Chapter 293: My Lord, Never Forget Me
“Heavens!” Little Eight suddenly cried out. “Nan Xun—the big boss’s final 10 points of malice are gone! It’s zero now, zero! I can’t believe it—his malice just vanished like that!”
Nan Xun let out a weak laugh. Her gaze was distant as she looked at the fireballs continuously falling from the sky, her voice cold and flat.
“Yes… centuries of obsession are gone. With that, the last bit of malice should disappear too…”
Little Eight was still celebrating when something suddenly occurred to it. It let out a ghostly howl.
“Holy shit! The Child of Destiny and so many of his soldiers are inside this palace—Nan Xun, he can’t die! He absolutely cannot die! If he dies, the two of us are really finished!”
“I know,” Nan Xun said calmly.
Little Eight sniffed, on the verge of tears. “You know… then what? What are you planning to do?”
Nan Xun didn’t answer. She tossed the bundle in her hand to the ground, keeping only the Tengshe Divine Sword.
She unwrapped the cloth around it. Under the firelight, the sharp blade reflected a streak of blood-red light.
“Little Eight,” Nan Xun said, “help me block pain one last time.”
Little Eight was shocked. “Your blindness and deafness were just cured! If you use pain blocking again, you might immediately go blind and deaf all over again!”
Without any warning, Nan Xun aimed the tip of the Tengshe Sword at her own heart and stabbed it in.
Little Eight screamed in terror and instantly blocked her pain.
Nan Xun had only pierced in a small portion of the blade, yet she could clearly feel the sword tip greedily drinking her heart’s blood.
When it felt like enough, she let out a soft puchi and pulled the sword back out.
She set the formation, prayed for rain, and pointed the Tengshe Sword straight at the sky.
Just as she was about to complete the final step—whoosh—something suddenly shot through the air and struck her from behind, piercing straight through her back and heart.
Nan Xun looked down. It was a long arrow.
“Tsk… my hearing really isn’t as good as before…” she muttered.
Turning around, she saw the scattered remnants of the Eastern Lin army, and at their head stood Qi Hengqing. Beside him was a white-bearded old man, pointing at her and shouting something animatedly.
Qi Hengqing stared blankly at the white-robed woman. He stared at the arrow he had just fired, now piercing through her chest, blood spreading across her front.
He flung the longbow from his hand and said in a daze, “Not her… it’s not her! Elder Wu, you’re mistaken! The one setting the formation can’t be her—this fire rain wasn’t caused by her!”
The white-bearded old man said gravely, “But I clearly sense powerful witchcraft coming from this person.”
Nan Xun glanced indifferently at the disheveled Eastern Lin troops behind her. After considered Qi Hengqing briefly, she turned back around and continued her unfinished prayer.
She silently chanted the incantation, her left hand drawing formations in the air. The Tengshe carved into the sword grew ever more crimson. Suddenly, the blood-red snake opened its mouth and spat a cloud of bloody mist into the sky.
In an instant, dark clouds gathered. Thunder roared. Purple lightning and firelight intertwined, making the night sky blaze with brilliance.
Soon, a torrential rain poured down, washing over the burning palace halls.
The surviving Eastern Lin soldiers burst into cheers.
“Borrowing the heavens to pray for rain…” the old man beside Qi Hengqing murmured, staring in disbelief at the white-robed woman in the downpour.
Rain soaked her long dress. The large patch of blood on her chest spread rapidly, almost turning the white gown entirely red.
With a clang, the Tengshe Sword fell from Nan Xun’s hand. She collapsed weakly to her knees, the long arrow still lodged in her chest.
Little Eight wailed, “My dear, you’re almost out of breath—sob, sob…”
Nan Xun replied weakly, “Give me a heart-strengthening pill. I still want to do one last thing.”
Little Eight didn’t ask why. At this moment, it no longer cared about its precious pills and immediately fed her one.
Using her final strength, Nan Xun drew a blood formation on the ground. Sitting within it, she formed seals with her hands, spreading her arms as immense witchcraft surged outward.
The old man’s eyes widened. He couldn’t help but shout, “Who exactly is this girl, to know such a heaven-defying forbidden art?!”
Qi Hengqing frowned deeply and said urgently, “Elder Wu, let’s save her! Rose is a good girl—she must not die!”
The old man shook his head. “It’s useless. It’s too late. The backlash-transfer technique is the highest art of our Witch Clan—also a forbidden one. I don’t know whose backlash she intends to transfer onto herself.”
Qi Hengqing clenched his fists tightly. Just as he was about to rush forward, a white figure beat him to it.
That man was dressed in white. His jet-black hair had somehow turned silver, his face deathly pale—the sign of just having used a heaven-defying spell.
By the time Gong Moran arrived, Nan Xun had already completed the backlash transfer. The forbidden art caused the blood in her chest to gush out violently, and in the blink of an eye, she lay in a pool of blood.
“Duoduo?” Gong Moran called softly, lifting her up.
“My lord… you’re finally back… Duoduo has been waiting for you for so long.” Nan Xun slowly opened her eyes and wrapped an arm around his neck. Seeing him, she seemed to regain a trace of vitality.
Gong Moran’s eyes reddened, yet he still smiled faintly.
“I ran into some enemy troops on the way and was delayed. Duoduo, look—I brought the hairpin back.”
As he spoke, he inserted the hairpin into her hair.
Nan Xun’s eyes lit up. She grinned at him.
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s go. We agreed to live in seclusion together, to grow old together.”
“…Alright. I’ll take you away now.” Gong Moran looked at her with infinite tenderness, snapped off the arrow lodged in her chest, and lifted her from the pool of blood into his arms.
Holding the woman close, he walked forward step by step.
Her blood dripped all along the path, blooming into shocking flowers of red upon the ground.
Nan Xun’s breathing grew weaker and weaker. She tried to hold tighter around his neck, but her hands had no strength left.
“My lord…” she whispered.
“Yes?” Gong Moran responded softly.
“My lord, you won’t suffer on full-moon nights anymore. I transferred your backlash onto myself.”
“Duoduo… you’ve been naughty again…” he scolded softly, his eyes blazing red.
“My lord, you lied to me. You promised not to use heaven-defying forbidden arts again, yet you created the Heaven-Burning Formation. That was very improper.” Her voice carried a trace of reproach.
“I’m sorry…” The man’s steady voice finally broke with a sob.
“But it’s too late now, my lord…” Nan Xun cried softly as well.
Suddenly, she lifted her head and kissed him hard, then leaned close to his ear and whispered, “My lord, you must remember me. Never forget me. Never…”
Her voice grew fainter and fainter. At a certain moment, the hand tightly wrapped around his neck suddenly went slack and slowly slipped from his shoulder.
Gong Moran’s steps halted abruptly.
“Duoduo…” he called softly.
But the person in his arms would never answer him again.
After a long while, he continued walking forward. Only—his bloodshot eyes shed a single line of bloody tears.
The Eastern Lin army watched the white-robed man walk away, all of them stunned.
Elder Wu beside Qi Hengqing said, “Your Majesty, this demon’s witchcraft is boundless. Leaving him alive will bring endless trouble. He has just used the heaven-defying Heaven-Burning Formation—this is when his power is weakest. If we release a volley of arrows now, he will surely die!”
Qi Hengqing looked at Gong Moran’s retreating back, his gaze falling on the trail of blood on the ground. Filled with regret, he slowly loosened his clenched fist and said wearily,
“Enough. Let him go…”
When the soul is already dead, the body is not far behind. Why bother with more killing?
