Zhou Jingan pursed his lips and gritted his teeth, "You deserve to be punished."
For those innocent people who died, for those displaced people, and for the destruction of the Dashun.
Pei Yu's smile grew brighter as she looked at him, "I said before, I'd rather die than be a prisoner."
The raindrops were fine and dense, washing over the two of them, staining their eyelashes and wetting their lips.
Pei Yu's slender eyes were half closed, and his cheeks became white and transparent due to the cold rain and the loss of blood. His lips were bloodless, but they were raised, outlining a hearty smile.
Zhou Jing'an was about to put away his knife and hold him hostage, but when he heard him utter these words, he felt something was wrong.
But his situation was not much better than Pei Yu's. His brain started to work slower. When he thought that Pei Yu might commit suicide, as this thought flashed through his mind, Pei Yu also committed suicide with a smile in front of him.
He used his knife, and the sharp cold blade cut across the neck. A blood mark instantly appeared on the fair skin, and bright red flowed out, like a wild horse running out of control, just like the iron hoof that trampled on Pei Yu on the battlefield that year.
Zhou Jing'an watched him slowly fall down, blood staining his neck red, but his smiling lips were bloodless, gray and fragile.
The iron hoof that failed to kill Pei Yu back then was reincarnated as a result of this sharp blade today.
"Your Majesty, the young master..." Ye Song couldn't help but worry.
Ye Bai also frowned, looking at the shaky figure in front of him.
Feng Yu pursed his lips, took the umbrella, walked over, and held it over Zhou Jing'an's head.
"Let's go back."
Feng Yu looked at the injuries all over his body and frowned, saying, "Your injuries need to be treated quickly."
Zhou Jing'an lowered his head, with raindrops hanging on his long eyelashes, hiding the emotions in his eyes.
His fists were clenched tightly, and the sword in his hand was still stained with Pei Yu's blood, which had not been washed off.
Just as Feng Yu patted his shoulder, Zhou Jing'an suddenly swayed and fell to the side.
"No words!"
"Young Master!"
Fine rain threads formed a rain curtain. Ye Song and Ye Bai strode over. Lin Yi and his men rode over following the traces. When they saw Feng Yu, they breathed a sigh of relief and immediately dismounted and ran over.
Before he could say anything, Feng Yu urgently ordered, "Quick! Send Buyan back to the palace!"
Several people hurriedly lifted Zhou Jing'an. His clothes were already soaked, and the dark color was like the black of dark clouds, and his pale and almost transparent face made him look even more fragile.
His eyes were tightly closed, his brows were furrowed, and his lips were tightly closed, just like Pei Yu, who was also lifted up and shackled behind him, as if he had no breath.
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