Chapter 171 Devout Believers
At the bottom of Soul-Shattering Valley, the night was as dark as ink, with only the cold, waning moon casting its pale light upon this battlefield that had just witnessed carnage.
The cold wind remained biting, swirling with fine snowflakes and whistling softly. But this piercing wind could not dispel the heavy yet poignant warmth that permeated this place.
All around, hundreds and thousands of ferocious beasts lay silently, like a group of silent guards, witnessing this incredible scene with their wild eyes.
In the middle of the snow.
The most esteemed regent of the Great Sheng Dynasty, the man who could command the kneeling of thousands with a single glance, was now kneeling on the cold, frozen earth.
Pei Yunjing's gaze was fixed on the mangled arm that was presented to him, as if it had been welded shut.
He reached out his hand, trembling.
Those hands, capable of crushing an enemy's skull with bare hands and wielding a sword to cut through the blizzard, were now stiff beyond belief.
He dared not touch her with his palm, or even fully grasp her wrist, for fear that the calluses on his palms from years of wielding a sword would once again chafe her delicate skin.
He simply extended a few fingers and, with the gentlest touch of his fingertips, carefully supported Tang Li's wrist.
The movement was so light, as if it were holding a snowflake about to melt, or a feather so fragile it was almost imperceptible.
"Whoosh..."
In this desolate snow valley, a discordant yet heartbreaking sound rang out.
Pei Yunjing did exactly as instructed.
This regent, who struck fear into the hearts of the people, now resembled a child who had done something wrong and was clumsily trying to make amends.
He leaned closer to the gruesome wound, puffed out his cheeks, and blew on it repeatedly.
The heat, mixed with the faint scent of ambergris and blood emanating from him, sprayed onto the rolled-up flesh, bringing a tingling, warm sensation.
He played the flute with great seriousness and focus.
It was as if as long as he kept blowing, the wound would heal, time would turn back, and that sword... would never have been swung.
"suck……"
Looking at his devout yet clumsy appearance, Tang Li felt a lump in her throat and sniffed hard.
She endured the pain, not wanting to make him even more upset, but tears still involuntarily streamed down her face.
A hot, glistening tear slid down the corner of her eye, hovering precariously on the tip of her chin.
Pei Yunjing abruptly stopped blowing air.
He slowly raised his head, his phoenix eyes, now bloodshot, filled with immense panic and heartache.
He saw that teardrop; it was her pain, her grievance, and even more so, an accusation against his crimes.
In that instant, his heart felt as if it were being torn apart by a thousand knives, the pain so intense that even his breath tasted of blood.
He remained kneeling in that humble posture, moving closer to her face, his movements as slow as a frame of a painting.
Finally, those two cold, thin, and even slightly chapped lips were reverently imprinted on the corners of her eyes.
The tip of my tongue darted out, scooping up that salty, scalding tear—bitter and astringent.
Those were her tears, which scalded his heart.
"Don't cry..."
He murmured softly, his voice broken and hoarse, like a mournful cry squeezed from his chest:
"Please...don't cry..."
That was her pain, and now he would repay it, even if it took a lifetime, he wouldn't mind.
Then, his kisses traveled downwards.
It landed on her left cheek, on the thin, long bloodstain slashed by the sword energy, where blood beads were still seeping.
Pei Yunjing's lips trembled, lingering on the wound for a long time.
His warm breath sprayed onto her skin, as if he wanted to use his body heat to soothe the scar caused by him.
Finally, Pei Yunjing lowered his head and gently pressed his forehead against her injured arm.
He looked at the gaping wound, the bloodied flesh, and the blood-stained edge of his sleeve. He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to the bloodstains at the edge of the wound.
It was a kiss, but more than that, it was a brand.
There was no rage of lust, no predatory possessiveness.
Only endless regret and unwavering atonement until death.
On this snowy night, in this life-or-death battlefield...
At this moment, he was no longer the regent who was high above and controlled life and death.
He was her most loyal and fervent follower.
He was a demon born to kill, and she was the only goddess who could redeem him.
"I swear..."
Pei Yunjing's lips remained pressed against her wound, without leaving.
His voice was low and hoarse, each word like blood vomited from the depths of his soul, carrying a chilling determination and obsession:
"From this day forward..."
"My sword will only be drawn for you."
"My life..."
He raised his head, and in his deep eyes burned two flames of "faith," which locked tightly onto Tang Li's eyes:
"Living only for you".
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