"I'll listen another day." Song Tingke was reluctant to let him play the piano for her with his hand injured, and wanted to treat his wound first.
However, Chu Huaixu insisted, "But I want to play. Since the adults don't have anything they want to hear, I'll just pick one that I like."
Chu Huaixu has always been a strong-willed person, and Song Ting usually can't stop him from doing what he wants. This time was no different, so Song Ting didn't say anything more and just sat quietly.
To be honest, he wasn't very knowledgeable about music, and he couldn't understand what Huai Xu was playing. All he could see were those hands that were freely plucking the strings.
Before the wound on his fingertip could be properly bandaged, the wound medicine sprinkled on it fell off during the movement, and the wound was cut open again by the strings, with bright red blood covering the strings and a faint smell of blood filling the air.
Song Ting was a former shadow guard, and he was more skilled at killing than a street vendor chopping melons. Seeing blood was commonplace for him, so such a wound should hardly be a sight to behold.
However, at this moment he couldn't bear to see such a scene. This was because the injury was on Chu Huaixu's body.
He had already seen this person covered in wounds and blood, and he couldn't bear to see even the slightest injury appear on the other person's body again.
This reminded Song Ting of the slap he had been forced to give Chu Huaixu across the face.
"Stop playing." He stepped forward and grasped Huai Xu's wrist, cradling the scarred wrist in his hands with tenderness in his eyes. "Don't play anymore."
Chu Huaixu was still wearing that white robe, with a few drops of blood splattered on it, leaving mottled blood stains, and some even somehow landed on his face.
He suddenly burst into laughter: "Hahahaha... Hahahahahaha..."
Against the backdrop of crimson blood, the smile carried a hint of wickedness, possessing a... indescribable beauty.
Song Ting swallowed, feeling as if hot coals were rolling down her throat.
Song Ting held his hand tightly, squatted down at his feet, looked at him, and let him do as he pleased.
"Song Ting!" Chu Huaixu suddenly grabbed his collar and pulled him close. "If it weren't for you, Chu Minghuan would be the one dead today!"
Song Ting changed out of his wet clothes before coming. Since he was meeting Huai Xu, he did not wear his official robes again, but changed into a blue casual dress.
At this moment, Chu Huaixu's blood stained his clothes, just like the hatred that he couldn't hide in his eyes.
“You won’t.” Song Ting turned around and grasped his hand. “I don’t know who your original plan was to kill, but you gave me a hint that you didn’t want the little emperor to die.”
"You're talking nonsense!" Chu Huaixu glared angrily and retorted, "I want the little emperor dead more than anyone else! But I'll be happy no matter which of you dies."
"Do you think that old bastard Zhang Bingzhi ever imagined that he would die like this after scheming his whole life? Hahahaha... That's satisfying, truly satisfying!"
Chu Huaixu laughed incessantly, as if he was so happy that he was almost incoherent. As he laughed, his eyes became moist, and his gaze was shrouded in mist.
He was smiling.
She was crying too.
It's impossible not to feel fear when lightning strikes; mortals have an innate sense of dread about it.
At that moment, Song Ting also thought that if he were the one who went to receive the ceremony on behalf of the emperor today, he might be the one lying in a pile of charred stones right now.
I wonder if Huaixu really hates him to that extent?
But he soon realized that it was only natural for people in Huaixu to hate and resent him.
But he also realized that Huaixu wasn't going to kill him right now; he had been giving him hints from the very beginning, making him suspicious.
Because of the incident involving empty carriages, Zhang Bingzhi was eager to curry favor with the emperor and would inevitably try to take the opportunity from him.
So from the very beginning, what Huaixu wanted was Zhang Bingzhi's life.
Song Ting didn't care about any of the other reasons; this was enough for her.
“It’s my fault.” He kissed Chu Huaixu’s fingertips reverently. “But Mingyu, please tell me, are you the one behind the Red Lotus Sect?”
One of them sat down, while the other knelt. Chu Huaixu looked down at him, the tears in his eyes already held back. Many emotions flashed through his eyes, but quickly subsided, leaving his brows icy cold.
He hooked his other arm around Song Ting's neck, mercifully placed a kiss on Song Ting's forehead, and then ruthlessly pushed him away when Song Ting tried to kiss him back.
“No,” he said. “I don’t have that kind of ability.”
Song Ting: "Brother Zhou, he..."
"In that battle, the Xuanjia Army was completely wiped out, and only Brother Zhou survived. In the Prince Duan's mansion, only I survived. We both crawled out of mountains of corpses and seas of blood to seek revenge on our enemies."
"But the two of us alone are not enough..."
From the moment Song Ting saw Zhou Tong, she guessed that he was related to the Red Lotus Sect, and Chu Huaixu obviously already knew this.
Another reason he didn't immediately ask the other party was that he thought the person behind the Red Lotus Sect was Huai Xu.
He thought that besides Zhou Tong, there might be others still alive, and those who were alive had followed Huai Xu to establish the Red Lotus Sect. After all, the timing of this organization's emergence was too coincidental.
But now, Huaixu has denied his guess.
The current situation is exactly the kind of scenario he least wanted to guess.
“You have joined the Red Lotus Cult,” Song Ting said with difficulty.
Chu Huaixu smiled again, without denying it.
Song Ting's heart sank even further. An organization like the Red Lotus Sect would not allow anyone to join casually. Anyone who joined would have to pay some price or exchange something.
"Young Master," Song Ting hugged Chu Huaixu tightly, saying anxiously, "I will definitely keep my promise to you. Don't associate with them anymore."
Chu Huaixu pushed him away, his tone full of disdain: "You are good at saying nice things. I have heard countless promises from you."
"But what have you given me, sir? The Empress Dowager is not dead, the Emperor is not dead, and even Zhang Bingzhi did not die at your hands. Under such circumstances, how do you expect me to trust you?"
"Do you remember, sir, that you promised me you would let me personally cut that old bastard into a thousand pieces?"
Song Ting naturally remembered, but at this moment, what she cared about most was no longer whether Huai Xu blamed her or not.
"Then tell me, what do they want you to do?"
Chu Huaixu placed his blood-stained hand on Song Ting's throat, his fingers slowly tightening:
"All they want is for me to get close to the adults and pass on their messages; the rest will be taken care of."
"So it doesn't matter that the Empress Dowager and the young emperor are not dead yet, because they will die soon anyway."
"It doesn't matter if you're not willing to help me sincerely, sir. There are others who will help me, besides the young emperor and the empress dowager, there's also you, sir. I'll keep track of all your lives."
"A blood debt... must be repaid with blood. Song Ting, either you kill me now, or I will make you regret what you did back then."
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