Chu Huaixu's eyes suddenly widened, no longer empty, but filled with fear.
He wanted to shout, to cry, but no sound came out; he could only stare blankly at the head.
Suddenly, the head opened its eyes.
Red blood kept flowing from her eyes, nose, ears, and mouth.
He heard his mother's hoarse voice repeating, "My child, my child, you must avenge us! You must avenge us!"
"Kill Song Ting! Kill the Emperor! Slaughter them all! Avenge your father and brother, and avenge our entire Duan Prince's Mansion!"
"Mother..." Chu Huaixu murmured, tears instantly blurring his vision.
His mother's head continued to bleed tears, endlessly repeating those curses.
"Promise me, my child, promise me you will avenge us! Kill Song Ting! Kill him!"
"He's the one who ruined our family, he's the one who killed your parents and brothers! Don't be soft-hearted, kill him!"
Chu Huaixu knelt before the severed head, weeping bitterly: "Fine, I promise you, I will definitely, definitely kill Song Ting, kill all of them."
He gently placed his palm on her unseeing face. "Mother, go in peace. I will kill them all, avenge you."
"Go...go...ave us with our revenge..."
"Huaixu, don't forget that my father and I died for you. Avenge us!"
"I died so tragically, young master, young master..."
The sounds were etched into Chu Huaixu's heart like a malignant tumor, and the scene of his father and brother being pierced by ten thousand arrows appeared before his eyes again and again.
Amidst the blood-red landscape, he also spotted a servant from the former Prince's mansion.
The child was only twelve or thirteen years old. He was sold into the royal palace by his parents because his family was poor.
But he was unlucky; just one month after he arrived, something happened at the Prince's residence.
The vermilion gate was kicked open, and before the child could react, a cold, long sword pierced his heart.
He stared blankly with his big eyes, turning back to look at Chu Huaixu:
"Third, Third Young Master..."
Chu Huaixu remembered that look for many, many years. That child never knew why he had suffered such a calamity until his death.
And at this very moment, that child stood atop the execution platform, tears of blood streaming down his face, calling out to him:
"Third Young Master, Young Master... I died such a terrible death! I haven't even seen my parents yet, I'm not reconciled..."
The cries were so heavy that Chu Huaixu, a coward, suddenly dared not look at or listen to anything around him.
So he closed his eyes and covered his ears, but the sounds seemed to truly exist in his soul, and even if he didn't look or listen, he still couldn't avoid them.
“Kill…kill Song Ting…”
Chu Huaixu clenched his fists and opened his eyes. This time, he did not run away; his gaze swept across the faces of everyone on the execution platform.
He looked around slowly and carefully, as if trying to memorize everyone there. "I will definitely kill Song Ting and avenge you all!"
The surrounding figures became more chaotic and mixed, with everyone shouting at Chu Huaixu, urging him to avenge them.
He gradually lost sight of his parents' and brothers' faces, and his consciousness became increasingly blurred.
When she opened her eyes again, she was no longer faced with faces covered in blood and tears, but with Song Ting.
The commander of the Embroidered Uniform Guard sat by his bedside, holding his hand and looking at him with concern.
The moment their eyes met, she smiled at him and gently touched his forehead with her warm hand: "Awake?"
Chu Huaixu's consciousness was still immersed in that blood-red dream.
Hatred made him lose his sense of where he was and why he was there. Instinctively, he swung a palm at Song Ting, aiming straight for the other's heart.
If he were at his peak, this palm strike would have almost killed Song Ting.
But now he was a useless piece of trash who had lost all his martial arts skills and whose meridians were broken. His palm strike to Song Ting's chest was weak and powerless, and the latter took the opportunity to grab his wrist.
"You can't kill me now. We'll talk about it when you're better."
That same phrase again.
As the bloodstains slowly faded, Chu Huaixu finally noticed that the man's complexion was not good, and even his lips were pale.
That previous stab wound had ultimately injured him.
This made Chu Huaixu feel relieved. But it wasn't enough.
He smiled coldly, approaching Song Ting, and as if in a dream, said to the man, word by word: "I will definitely kill you."
His family members all died under the butcher's knife of the man in front of him, and he himself had already become a wisp of a soul that should have died but had not died on that day.
The only thought that kept him going was revenge.
He will really kill Song Ting sooner or later.
Kill this person.
It's this very spirit that has kept him alive until now.
He can't forget, and he dares not forget.
Song Ting gently kissed his forehead, a faint smile playing on her lips: "Okay."
It was as if Chu Huaixu wasn't making a blood-soaked oath, but rather speaking the most touching words of love in the world.
Chu Huaixu was so angry that he couldn't help but cough.
Song Ting half-pulled him into her arms and gently patted his back to help him catch his breath. Before long, his cough actually stopped.
Chu Huaixu looked around and realized that he was in a room that he knew very well.
A rosewood bed with intricate openwork carvings, a landscape ink-wash screen, a chaise lounge covered with a snow fox fur carpet, and a jade-colored vase made by a famous artist from a previous dynasty…
This is clearly his room.
He was raised by the late emperor in his childhood, but his room was still kept in the Prince Duan's mansion. He returned to the mansion when he was thirteen years old and has lived in that room ever since.
Until he was seventeen, something happened at the Prince's Mansion.
Five years ago, a fire reduced the entire Prince Duan's mansion to ashes, but Song Ting restored the mansion and even preserved his room.
It was exactly as I remembered it.
Chu Huaixu pushed him aside, walked barefoot to the side wall, and stood in front of a splashed ink landscape painting.
This painting is an original work by a master from the previous dynasty, and it used to be kept in the imperial palace.
Later, Chu Huaixu took a liking to the painting, and the late emperor bestowed it upon him. When he left the palace, he also took the painting with him and hung it on this side wall.
Chu Huaixu roughly tore the painting down, ripping it in half and stomping on it in front of Song Ting, his words piercing the heart:
"Is it not enough for you, sir, to enjoy wealth and honor by taking advantage of the lives of my parents and brothers? Are you even going to steal from the Prince's mansion?"
"Or is it that adults are so used to being dogs that they don't know how to be human, so they imitate their former masters in everything?"
"Unfortunately, a dog is a dog, and no matter how poorly it tries to imitate, it can never become a human."
"Like this painting, the original was burned long ago. No matter how well it is imitated, it is still a fake."
"Your Excellency, you're a good dog. You should serve the Empress Dowager well."
"Perhaps by winning the Empress Dowager's favor, you might receive some good things in return!"
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