Chapter 74 A Wish "Then just kill me, Mengmeng."...

Mu Meng walked out step by step. Her face was pale, and her eyes were even a little unfocused, as if she couldn't stand the bright light. She squinted and looked around.

The scenery here was completely unfamiliar. Although it was no longer the endless darkness where the sun never shone, and she was no longer bound by iron chains, she still felt lingering fear.

Her gaze slowly fell on the back of a figure in a blue robe in front of her.

The man seemed to sense something, and slowly turned around, his clear black and white eyes gazing at her with deep and complex emotions.

Mu Meng clenched her fists tightly, staring intently at him, but when she saw Mu Qingheng's face clearly, she was stunned for a moment.

—Although she hadn’t seen anything beyond the darkness for a long time, she never expected that Mu Qingheng would suddenly become in such a miserable state.

After becoming the Demon Lord again, his clothes were always exquisite and noble. For some reason, he wore this plain and ordinary blue robe. But that was not the most important thing. His cheeks were covered with so many crisscrossing scars that even a gentle breeze could reveal his crippled legs.

When did Mu Qingheng become like this? Why didn't she notice it before?

No, none of that matters. Seeing him like this just makes her feel good!

Mu Meng was stunned for a moment, then she smiled coldly and couldn't help but rush forward, raising her hand and slapping him hard across the face!

Tears welled up in her eyes, and her lips trembled with hatred: "I'm going to find my sister, I'm going to take her home..."

Mu Qingheng's face turned to the side from her slap. Hearing Mu Meng's trembling words, the pain in his eyes deepened. He hurriedly grabbed her wrist: "Mengmeng, listen to me—"

"Get away! Don't touch me!" Mu Meng rudely shook him off, as if she were shaking off something utterly disgusting.

Mu Qingheng's face suddenly turned pale, and he bit his trembling lip with difficulty—although he had been prepared, seeing Mengmeng's appearance with his own eyes immediately tore at his heart.

It wasn't her gaze or her attitude that hurt him, but rather her state of being—her pupils trembling like those of a frightened young animal, trying desperately to hide but still unable to suppress a slight tremor, fear, dread, despair, and countless other emotions mixed in her clear eyes, making her seem like a withered leaf in the wind.

Mu Qingheng felt a metallic taste in his throat: "Mengmeng... don't be afraid, your sister is alright, she's still alive."

Mu Meng shook her head uncontrollably, clearly trying her best to hold back her tears, her large eyes brimming with tears she didn't want to shed in front of him: "You don't need to lie to me anymore. You look down on me so much, do you think I'm still a fool who trusts you completely? Do you think I'll still believe what you say?"

Mu Qingheng frowned, coughed violently twice, and took a step towards her: "Mengmeng, I..."

"Don't come any closer!" Mu Meng shouted through gritted teeth.

She held three fingers together and pressed them against the pulse point on her neck, her fingertips gradually gathering spiritual power. "Mu Qingheng, I know you have the Azure Phoenix Feather, but if you try to cut out my heart, I will immediately commit suicide and will never let you succeed."

Her other free hand gradually clenched into a fist, her nails digging deep into her palm. She knew she probably wouldn't leave this place alive. If she managed to escape with her life today, she would make Mu Qingheng pay for his crimes in blood, no matter what it took!

Mu Meng stared intently at Mu Qingheng with wary vigilance, waiting for his patience to wear thin and for him to reveal his true, ferocious fangs. But even now, he remained standing at a distance, still gazing at her with those sorrowful and pitying eyes.

His expression was truly laughable. Mu Meng had no idea what he was up to, so she tentatively took a step back.

Mu Qingheng stood rooted to the spot, afraid to move, lest Mu Meng truly harm him if he took a single step. But seeing the intense light emanating from her fingertips, he was filled with anxiety: "Mengmeng, put your hand down! It's dangerous! Don't hurt yourself… I won't go over there, look—"

As he spoke, he raised his hands and took a few steps back.

“Don’t hurt yourself. I’m not standing here to hurt you,” Mu Qingheng said, looking at her intently. “Mengmeng, I’m not lying to you this time. The war between the Heavenly Demons is over. The Heavenly Clan are all alive and well. Everyone is alive and well. Luo… your sister is not dead. She is in the Heavenly Clan. It’s true. You can see her when you go home.”

Every inch of his aura was gentle and harmless; even upon closer inspection, one could not find a trace of hostility in him.

Mu Meng still didn't believe Mu Qingheng's words. She neither lowered her hand nor approached him.

Mu Qingheng took a deep breath without making a sound, a muffled groan escaped his throat, and he silently swallowed a mouthful of blood that surged up, his face pale. "Mengmeng, the Demon Clan has been defeated and wiped out. There is no longer a Demon Clan in this world, and no one will threaten the Celestial Clan anymore. Don't be afraid."

After saying that, he smiled slightly at Mu Meng, then suddenly lifted his robe and knelt down straight in front of her.

He spoke slowly and deliberately, his voice low but sincere: "Mengmeng, I'm sorry."

Mu Meng was startled for a moment. Although he did not lower the hand that was pressed against his throat, the light at the tip of his finger gradually dimmed.

Mu Qingheng... what is he doing?

Having experienced such a drastic change, she could no longer distinguish between what was real and what was fake. Mu Qingheng's demeanor and actions were flawless. If it weren't for the hatred and grievances in her heart, she would almost believe that Mu Qingheng was genuinely kneeling before her.

He said the Celestials were all well, and his sister was alive and well...

He said the demon army had been completely wiped out...

He was apologizing to her...

If the demon army is still strong, if he is still the high and mighty Demon Lord, why is he in such a miserable state, why would he say these things, and why would he kneel down before her?

No, it's definitely not that simple. But besides the Crimson Heart Pill, what else do I have that he would go to such lengths to obtain?

Mu Meng's temples throbbed, and her eardrums rang faintly. She couldn't help but tremble, but she still stared at Mu Qingheng warily. "Stop acting. What exactly do you want?"

Mu Qingheng gave her a dazed and gentle smile.

He had wanted to do this for a long time.

He took the dagger from his waist, held it high with both hands, and presented it to her. "Mengmeng, I'm so sorry. I bullied you and hurt you like that... You may not believe it, but the feeling of regret is truly heart-wrenching. I've always dreamed and hoped for this day to come. I never expected that heaven would be so kind as to grant my wish. Mengmeng, don't be afraid anymore. Come and take your revenge on me."

Vent all your grievances and suffering. Whether you hit me, scold me, or stab me as many times as you want, you can treat me however you like.

Mu Qingheng reverently raised the dagger, his bright and gentle gaze fixed on the little girl not far away.

This is his Mengmeng, Mengmeng from his past life.

Not the reborn, meticulously planned, and mature Mengmeng who took on all the burdens with her frail shoulders; but the Mengmeng who suffered endless hurt, endured much injustice, and was filled with despair and fear, still not grown up.

Although they were all her, at this time, Mengmeng had not yet avenged the grievances and harm she had suffered. After enduring so much hardship, she was pitifully and tragically killed, which was a pain that he could never erase.

Mu Qingheng held the dagger steadily, kneeling obediently. Mu Meng remained silent and motionless, waiting in silence.

Mu Meng wasn't ignoring him; rather, her mind went blank for a moment. She stared at Mu Qingheng kneeling before her—his face was disfigured, half his leg was gone, and even two of his fingers had been somehow severed. He knelt before her, holding a dagger high, almost pleading, begging her for revenge.

Has she finally gone mad, or has Mu Qingheng gone mad?

Mu Meng slowly lowered the hand that was pressed against her neck, carefully examined Mu Qingheng once more, and silently walked towards him.

Why did you do that?

Mu Qingheng looked up, his gaze gentle and deep: "I want to atone for my sins."

Is there something else you want from me?

"no."

"So what new tricks have you come up with to deal with me?"

"No."

He didn't answer many questions, but you could hear the barely concealed grievance in his brief words.

Mu Meng gritted his teeth: "Mu Qingheng, I admit that I am not as smart as you, and I will never be able to do as much as you. I don't know what you want to do. If you are trying to use me, I can neither beat you nor match your cunning. Only death can thwart your plan."

Mu Qingheng shook his head repeatedly, his movements so large that even his hair became a little messy: "No, Mengmeng, it's not what you think. I know that I have no trust in you anymore, but only this time, this last time, please believe me."

After he finished speaking, he raised the dagger to its highest point and handed it to her.

Mu Meng hesitated for a moment, then his gaze gradually hardened. He slowly reached out and touched the hilt of the dagger, gradually tightening his grip.

She slowly drew the dagger from its sheath.

The dagger was real; its gleaming tip clearly showed it was a fine blade capable of cutting through iron like mud. Mu Qingheng remained motionless, his expression unchanged, gazing at her with tenderness and expectation, as if she were not about to take his life, but rather to help him fulfill his lifelong wish.

Mu Meng gripped the dagger tightly, his palm aching from the force, the gleaming, sharp blade exposed between them. "Whether what you just said is true or not, even if the war between the Heavenly Demons is over, even if my people are safe and sound, you have insulted me, imprisoned me, and trampled on my trust and sincerity. Every day I think that if I could, I would kill you."

Mu Qingheng looked up at her and smiled: "Then kill me, Mengmeng."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Mu Meng plunged a knife into his heart.

Mu Qingheng groaned, and a trace of bright red blood oozed from the corner of his lips.

He had just taken a breath when Mu Meng pulled out the knife without hesitation, and then plunged it in again.

"I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!! Why did you treat me like this... Why you of all people? Why me of all people?"

Mu Meng burst into tears. For days, she had been locked in endless darkness, enduring endless grievances, which had repeatedly driven her to the brink of collapse. Now, she finally had an outlet to pour out her emotions.

The dagger kept thrusting in and out, blurring the fabric of Mu Qingheng's clothes and skin. Blood had long since soaked through his clothes and even flowed onto the ground where he was kneeling.

The blood seeped into the soil, turning it into a dark red stain.

Mu Qingheng's chin was already stained red with blood. He knelt upright, letting Mu Meng vent his anger.

She drew her knife once more, looking down at him with a complex expression in her eyes. She pursed her lips and said, "Mu Qingheng, you're a madman, a complete and utter madman. Do you think I'll forgive you just because of this?"

Mu Qingheng closed his eyes and smiled. When he opened them again, the tenderness in his eyes was almost overflowing: "Mengmeng, do whatever you want. Don't be soft on me. I'm not worth it."

"Don't worry, I won't be soft on you. I just feel that since your heart is made of stone, no matter how many times I stab you, you won't feel what my heart feels."

She lowered her eyes, refusing to look into his gentle gaze, and unwilling to discern the truth from falsehood. She stared only at the bright red bloodstains on the dagger. "I am not like you. You tortured me inch by inch, making me wish I were dead, but I disdain doing the same thing. From beginning to end, all I wanted was to kill you."

After Mu Meng finished speaking, he raised his hand again, and the sharp blade plunged into Mu Qingheng's throat!

His neck was pierced by the dagger, and blood spurted out, even splashing onto Mu Meng's hands and snow-white cheeks. A low gurgling sound escaped his throat as copious amounts of blood gushed out, as if he would lose all his blood in less than half an incense stick's time.

Mu Meng slowly drew her dagger, tears welling up in her clear pupils. She looked at Mu Qingheng, who was almost soaked in blood, and at the irreversible fatal wound on his neck. Hot tears slowly streamed down her cheeks.

Countless beautiful memories flashed before her eyes like a revolving lantern; they had once been inseparable, regarding each other as the most important person in their lives.

She was raised by her older brother. He accompanied her to read and write, took care of her when she was sick, indulged her willfulness, taught her cultivation, made her laugh, and wiped away her tears.

But what was once a mirage ended up like this.

Her youthful admiration and the flutter of first love—she never imagined she would kill him with her own hands.

Mu Qingheng finally couldn't hold on any longer and slowly slid down to the ground.

In my memory, his body was strong and powerful, with every inch of his skin exuding strength. But now, as he lay on the ground, one could sense that beneath his thin blue robe, his body was weathered and withered, so fragile that it seemed unable to withstand even the slightest breeze.

Blood was streaming from his broken skin. He could no longer make a sound because his throat had been pierced. Only his loving eyes gazed at her gently and quietly, as if they had a thousand words to say.

But gradually, even the slightest twitching disappeared, and everything returned to deathly silence, his eyes still not closed.

Even without closing his eyes, he quietly lost all breath.

Mu Meng watched for a while, then finally let out a long sigh. There were still traces of tears on her cheeks. After a moment, she reached out her slender white hand and slowly covered Mu Qingheng's eyelids, gently helping him close his eyes.

Then she stood up, dropped the dagger, and left without looking back.

A cool breeze swirled and swept away a few withered leaves, also carrying away the heavy, cold, bloody smell from the courtyard.

Mu Meng didn't see that when Mu Qingheng fell, his sleeves fluttered up, revealing a thin, pale arm with a red line on his wrist that was constantly moving upwards.

It crawled up the entire forearm until it disappeared deep into the sleeve.

...

Mu Meng kept her head down and walked quickly. She originally wanted to go directly from the desolate border to the Heavenly Clan, but she suddenly stopped when she passed a stream. She looked down at the bloodstains on her hands.

Her face felt a little sticky, so she thought for a moment, then walked to the stream, squatted down, and washed her hands.

The stream was clear and clean, and her beautiful and graceful figure was faintly reflected in it. Mu Meng had no intention of looking closely. She scooped up the stream water with her hands and washed away the bloodstains on her face little by little.

Finally, after washing away the dried blood from his face and hands, the stream gurgled and flowed downwards, carrying away all the filth. Mu Meng shook his hands and was about to get up when he suddenly stopped.

After a long pause, her gaze cleared from a daze.

? ?

Mu Meng looked up and around—where was this place?

Why is she here... washing her hands?

Wasn't it supposed to be fighting that damn monster at the edge of Endless Cliff?

Yes, she knocked the monster off the endless cliff, and then...

What about covering the green?