Chapter 15 Qin Wenxue is her god. A glint of light flashed in her peripheral vision...

A sharp white light flashed in her peripheral vision, and a chilling sword aura swept across, sweeping away the rotting bones and corpses on her body. Limbs and flesh fell to the ground with a clatter. Shi Wenzhe's mind went blank. No matter how noisy the surroundings were, all she could hear was the buzzing of the sword. Everything in front of her began to slow down. She saw Qin Wenxue stepping through the gate, saw the sharp, spinning sword tip shooting straight at her, saw the silver chain swinging in Qin Wenxue's hair, and saw the other's cold, snow-white eyebrows and eyes.

And there were the trembling eyes when looking at Ming Shu in his arms.

"Hmph." Shi Wenzhe chuckled foolishly, and actually laughed out loud.

“It doesn’t matter that the gods can’t hear us, Qin Wenxue can.”

She sighed, a string of tears falling from the corner of her eye. As if she were utterly exhausted, she sat there motionless, facing the direction of Qin Wenxue.

Crows took flight, the blood moon hung high in the sky, and the sound of bells suddenly rang out. The fresh, cold fragrance of snow swept in quietly and silently, like a heavy snowfall, filling her embrace.

A warm touch came from my cheek, and I could hear my eyelashes fluttering slightly, as if in a faint response to the person who came.

“I hear the sound of breaking the law.” She heard the man shout.

"Um."

The powerful hum of the longsword ripped through the night, and the sound of it was like being in a sea of ​​fire. All that could be seen was the scorching flames sweeping away the endless corpses and bones in the courtyard. The roars around him vanished in an instant, leaving a silent and desolate place, like an empty hell.

"Ming Shu!" she heard the girl's voice.

"It's her, isn't it?" Shi Wenzhe thought, "Is it Yun Jin that Ming Shu can't forget? She looks so powerful. The sword in her hand is also very powerful, but Qin Wenxue is more powerful, and Qin Wenxue's sword is more powerful."

She had been holding Mingshu with all her might, and was already at her limit. When she heard Shi Zhe's hand loosen, she slumped to the ground. Mingshu, as she had expected, slowly slid down to the ground and finally landed in her warm embrace.

Yun Jin embraced him, channeling her spiritual energy into his empty body as if it were free, but his body was as empty as an abyss, bottomless.

Shi Wenzhe closed her eyes, her body involuntarily leaning towards the person. The cold ground she had imagined did not come; instead, Qin Wenxue steadily lifted her and placed her in his arms. She smelled that familiar, cool fragrance again, the one she had longed for day and night, the one that kept stimulating her fragile nerves.

The silver chain swayed gently in the air. Shi Wenzhe's fingertips gripped Qin Wenxue's clothes tightly, his half-closed eyes following it involuntarily, like a kitten being teased, holding onto the silver chain tightly.

Shi Wenzhe stared intently, his voice barely a whisper, and asked, "You came to save me?"

Thinking she couldn't hear the reply, she continued, "I'm in a little pain," her tone full of grievance.

But Qin Wenxue said, "It won't hurt in a while, go to sleep." He held Shi Wenzhe with his left hand and channeled his magic power into her, while gently patting her back with his right hand, as gently as if coaxing a child. Her wounds slowly healed, and Shi Wenzhe sniffed the air; the nauseating smell of blood was finally gone.

A triumphant smile spread across her lips as she glanced lightly at Qin Wenxue. Qin Wenxue frowned slightly and looked in Ming Shu's direction. His lips moved slightly, as if he were saying something to Yun Jin, but Shi Wenzhe couldn't hear him.

She felt strangely that her flesh and blood were all newly grown, as if she were not fully tamed and her five senses were almost nonexistent, but her sense of touch was so clear. Qin Wenxue's embrace was so soft that she was immersed in it.

Warmth emanated from the palms of her hands on her back, spreading throughout her entire body. She felt as if she had returned to that afternoon when she was sunbathing with the little white dog, a time of comfort, ease, and warmth.

Beside Qin Wenxue stood a sword, its aura magnificent, its light as clear as the cool moonlight. The sword energy spread out in layers, enveloping the two of them. They could hear the buzzing sound of the sword from time to time, and their eyelids were too heavy to lift.

"Asking about snow while wearing a quilt is a perfect match, like the white snow on distant mountains."

In the last second before closing her eyes, Qin Wenxue's pupils flickered slightly. She couldn't help but think, "That must be concern, right? But... I've caused trouble, and Ming Shu's life is hanging in the balance. Ming Shu... Ming Shu..." she murmured, biting her tongue. The taste of blood filled her mouth. She regained consciousness for a moment and tried to sit up to look at Ming Shu.

Unfortunately, her limbs were weak, and she often felt powerless. Her palms were already stained with blood from rubbing against the sand, but she still stubbornly refused to close her eyes, staring intently in Ming Shu's direction, like a stranded fish.

Qin Wenxue frowned slightly, letting Shi Wen tug at the silver chain in his hair. He patted Shi Wen's back with his hand, then softened the pressure and said in a deep voice, "Go to sleep."

"Alright." Shi Wenzhe thought, "Qin Wenxue has already coaxed her like this, so let her go to sleep."

Before we knew it, dawn was breaking. The ravaged courtyard seemed to be covered with a layer of gray, a thin mist at daybreak. The light timidly reflected in the sky and on the only remaining withered tree in the courtyard, adding to the desolate and bleak atmosphere.

The ground was covered with a mess of withered leaves, which were blown up by the wind and swirled before finally settling in a corner of the ancestral hall. As the daylight grew brighter, the thin mist gradually dissipated, and a few beams of light shone directly into the ancestral hall, landing on the hem of the robe of the statue with its lowered eyes. The statue still stood, quietly watching Ming Shu, whose fate was uncertain, without sorrow or joy.

Ming Shu's white hair fell all over his shoulders, and even a few strands of his eyelashes were faintly white. Yun Jin gently touched them with her hand and watched him flutter his wings like a butterfly, as if he was annoyed that someone had disturbed his peaceful dream.

The vanished mist returned, enveloping Ming Shu's entire body. He seemed about to ascend to immortality, his white robes bathed in the light of the heavens.

Yun Jin kept channeling spiritual energy into her hands, but unfortunately, Ming Shu's demon core was empty and could not be filled no matter how hard she tried. She was just a mortal and had long since reached her limit.

Her lips were tightly pressed together, stubbornly refusing to stop. The body beneath her hands was covered in blood and as cold as a block of ice that would never melt. She held Ming Shu's head in her hands, her heart pounding with panic as she looked at her blood-stained hands.

She was at her wit's end, she really had no other choice, and subconsciously cast a pleading, panicked look at Qin Wenxue.

The Three Thousand Swords was the last peerless sword forged by the Yun family while they were still alive. With the appearance of this sword, the last glory of the Yun family was exhausted, and from then on, the family was destroyed and its members died.

She was rescued from a pile of corpses by Qin Wenxue, and all she cared about were the few people in front of her.

The raging flames had long since subsided, scorching away all the filth, bones, and rotting corpses. Peace returned to the world. Yun Jin withdrew her three thousand guests, and the scabbard emitted a dissatisfied hum. It floated around Yun Jin, curiously examining the unconscious Ming Shu, as if wondering why this person, so old, was still as lazy as before, even though it was already dawn.

It poked Ming Shu's body, wanting a response, but the person ignored it and continued to act as if nothing had happened.

“Your Excellency…” Yun Jin said softly.

Qin Wenxue raised her finger, and a faint light shone from her fingertip. Ming Shu's figure gradually shrank in the white light, and his clothes fell to the ground. He turned into a white fox that was only the size of a palm.

The white fox's fur was matted and covered in dust and blood. It curled up in pain, its head buried in its belly, looking utterly pitiful. Yun Jin gently stroked the little white fox, her movements careful and tender as she combed its matted fur.

Qin Wenxue frowned slightly as she looked at Shi Wenzhe in her arms. The man's grip had become even stronger as he fell asleep, and he held onto Shi Wenzhe's hair domineeringly.

She gestured for Yun Jin to pick up the little white fox and place it in his arms, where there was still some room for it.

The little white fox smelled the familiar scent, curled up, buried his head, and began to sleep. Feeling that the space was a bit cramped, he kicked Shi Wenzhe, who was vying for his territory, before finally settling down to rest contentedly against Qin Wenxue's chest.

Not to be outdone, the three thousand guests tried to get close and rub against each other, but Yun Jin glanced at them and they reluctantly floated back to Yun Jin's side.

Seeing that Qin Wenxue was carrying too heavy a burden, Yun Jin said, "How about giving Miss Shi to me, Your Majesty?"

Qin Wenxue shook her head: "It's alright, I'm healing them."

"Your Excellency still needs to take care of your health," Yun Jin said. "Your poison is about to flare up again."

"It's alright." Qin Wenxue gestured for the other to lead the way: "Let's go, the courtyard's barrier has been broken, we shouldn't stay any longer."

Yun Jin nodded in agreement. The Three Thousand Swordsmen emitted a clear sword cry. She gripped the hilt and swept the sword out. Flames appeared out of thin air, and the sound of the sword cutting through the air swept away the withered branches and fallen leaves. The fallen leaves in the courtyard were like snowflakes dancing in the sky. They were silently extinguished under the flames, and the dust particles slowly fell, burying everything.

Even in the glaring daylight, the oil lamp in the ancestral hall remained lit, its flame trailing straight up to the top of the hall. It silently watched the people who rushed in and then left, like an old man in his twilight years, waiting in place, only able to watch one deceased person after another quietly depart. Those flickering and dimming sparks were its silent plea for them to stay, as if it were saying in the instant the deceased turned away, "You came, and I am still here."

At this moment, Qin Wenxue seemed to sense something. He turned around and glanced at the lonely earthen niche in the center of the ancestral hall. The lamp on the niche flickered and looked so fragile that it could not withstand even a slight breeze.

The statue above the earthen niche remained unchanged. He stared blankly for a moment, then a hoarse, deep voice echoed in his mind, saying to him, "Little butterfly,"

A strange emotion suddenly welled up in his heart, causing his thoughts to tremble. The emotion quietly departed, leaving him unable to grasp it, but the lingering aftertaste in his heart was so haunting that it seemed absurd to him.

"Your Majesty," Yun Jin reminded her. The morning breeze was cool, and in such a place filled with resentment, Qin Wenxue's body couldn't hold out for long.

The hem of her clothes stepped over the lintel, and the sound of her footsteps faded into the distance. Occasionally, in her drowsy state, she seemed to hear a sigh from a very, very distant time and space.

The voice was so helpless and sorrowful; she felt that only when a person was about to die, remembering that they still had unfulfilled wishes, could they utter such a wistful sound.

She couldn't bear to hear such a sound and wanted to run over and ask, "What's wrong? Do you still have any unfulfilled wishes? Why are you sighing? Are you unhappy?" A surge of righteousness rose in her heart. Just kidding, Shi Wenzhe had won the Good Deeds Award countless times in school. So Shi Wenzhe's fingertips twitched, as if she was struggling to get up and help the other person fulfill their long-cherished wish.

A wind blew up from underground, bringing with it an unpleasant, earthy smell.

A note from the author:

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