Chapter 166 The Calm After the Battle
As the dark clouds dispersed, a pale waning moon hung in the narrow sky above Broken Soul Valley, casting its stark light upon the devastated valley floor.
Pei Yunjing's consciousness, like a wandering soul, slowly drifted back to that heavy and weary body.
He slowly opened his eyes.
What you see is no longer distorted, blood-red noise, nor a bizarre illusion.
The view was clear, and the night was as still as water.
The deafening roar that threatened to shatter one's brain was gone; all that remained was the soft whistling of the wind through the rocks and the surrounding... heavy, warm breathing sounds rising and falling.
The symptoms of sensory overload have subsided.
The world has been restored to its original cold, cruel, yet incredibly real state.
Pei Yunjing moved his fingers but did not feel the biting cold he had expected while lying in the snow.
Instead, he was cushioned beneath a huge, thick, and warm pile of fur, as if he were lying on a luxurious blanket.
In his arms, he was holding a soft, warm body tightly.
That is...
Pei Yunjing's pupils focused slightly, his gaze passing over the person in his arms and sweeping across the surroundings.
This one glance made even the regent, who was used to seeing mountains of corpses and seas of blood, hold his breath.
Under the moonlight, within a radius of ten feet centered on him, countless ferocious beasts lay densely packed together.
Hundreds of giant snow wolves formed the innermost circle, burying their heads in their front paws, closing their eyes to rest, their silver fur gleaming coldly in the moonlight.
The outer ring consisted of several black bears, as large as small mountains, like black walls of flesh, blocking the cold wind blowing in from the mountain pass.
On the high rock face, dozens of golden eagles and vultures folded their wings, like the most loyal sentinels, silently overlooking the area below.
They were as quiet as a group of well-trained assassins, guarding their sleeping master at the center.
And on the outer periphery...
It was a mountain of corpses of Northern Rong soldiers.
The blood had frozen, and severed limbs were scattered all over the ground, telling the story of the massacre that had just taken place.
This is... a miracle.
It was a miracle that this little woman achieved with her life.
Pei Yunjing's heart clenched.
As if suddenly remembering something, he abruptly withdrew his gaze, lowered his head, and looked at the person he had been holding tightly in his arms.
"Tang... Pear?"
He called out tentatively, his voice so hoarse it was almost inaudible.
The person in her arms did not respond.
Under the cool moonlight, Pei Yunjing finally saw what she looked like.
Tang Li's eyes were tightly closed. Her face, which usually carried a hint of cunning and liveliness, was now as pale as paper, almost blending into the white snow on the ground.
Her lips were cracked and bloodless; if it weren't for the faint breath emanating from her nostrils, she would have looked like a lifeless corpse.
What startled Pei Yunjing the most was the clothes she was wearing.
The bright red palace dress that he had personally chosen before entering the palace and praised as "dignified and domineering" was now tattered and worn.
The once vibrant red had turned into a dark, somber blackish-red. It was the color of blood that had been soaked in and then dried.
Blood was everywhere—on the hem of the clothes, the cuffs, the hem of the skirt…
There was the enemy's blood, but even more so... her own blood.
She was like a blood-stained butterfly with broken wings, quietly curled up in his arms, so fragile that it seemed a mere gust of wind would shatter and vanish completely.
Pei Yunjing's breathing suddenly stopped.
A pain ten thousand times more intense than sensory overload struck his heart without warning.
how so?
He clearly remembered that he was supposed to protect her.
He clearly remembered that he had shielded her behind him.
Why in the end...?
The person lying in a pool of blood was her?
Pei Yunjing's fingers trembled violently.
He wanted to touch her face, to check where she was hurt, but his hand hovered in mid-air, unable to bring himself to touch her.
He was afraid.
He was afraid that the blood on his hands would soil her.
What he fears even more is... that he might stumble upon some cruel truth that he cannot accept.
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