Just as he realized what was happening and tried to have someone recapture Shen Jintang, Shen Jintang suddenly pulled out the knife that was stuck in his abdomen. With a flash of cold light, he mercilessly slit the young master's throat.
Blood mist sprayed out instantly, like a blood-red flower blooming in the night sky, and a stench filled the air.
Blood splattered on her face, mixing with her sweat and sliding down her cheeks.
Her breathing became rapid and heavy, and with each breath, a piercing pain shot through the wound on her side.
But her gaze remained unwavering, which was chilling.
Shen Jintang staggered back two steps, her body swaying precariously.
Just as she was about to collapse, Gu Zhixing rushed over and caught her.
His arms were tightly wrapped around her waist, supporting her frail body steadily.
The bandit leader was dead, and the surrounding air seemed to freeze for a moment before erupting into a chaotic cacophony of sounds.
The chaotic footsteps pounded on the muddy ground; some staggered backward, some ran away, and others roared and charged forward with knives raised.
The clanging of blades clashing, the harsh curses, and the frantic breathing all mingled together, buzzing and echoing in Shen Jintang's ears.
A series of distorted faces flashed before her eyes: some stared in terror, some gritted their teeth in a ferocious grimace, and some lunged at her with their faces covered in blood.
The bandits stumbled around like headless flies, some shouting for revenge, others dropping their weapons and disappearing into the woods.
The night wind, carrying the stench of blood and dust, choked her and made her throat tighten.
In the midst of this chaos, she could only clearly feel Gu Zhixing's steady breathing behind her and the warmth of his hand holding her wrist—hot and firm, like the only mast that wouldn't topple in a storm.
His eyes were filled with worry and heartache, and his voice trembled slightly: "Shen Jintang, how are you?"
Shen Jintang leaned against his chest, slightly raised her head, and looked at Gu Zhixing's face full of concern, only a weak smile appeared on her lips.
It wasn't until later that Gu Zhixing understood her scheme: if he directly seized the knife and killed the young master, the bandits behind him would immediately finish him off; if he attacked the bandit with the knife, the other bandits would swarm him.
Only by harming oneself and others can one resolve the two immediate threats simultaneously without causing immediate death.
She had calculated that the bandits would panic at the sight of blood, that Gu Zhixing would seize the opportunity to save people, and even the angle at which the blade would avoid vital organs—this realization made Gu Zhixing feel a chill run through his body, as if a coldness was rising from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.
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