"you……"
His lips moved with difficulty, the sound seeming to be squeezed out of his throat, but before he could finish speaking, he collapsed forward limply.
Shen Jintang reached out and gently caught his falling body, her movements as tender as if she were holding a fragile piece of porcelain.
She carefully placed Gu Zhixing beside the gnarled tree roots, and casually brushed away a withered leaf that had fallen between his eyebrows.
The withered leaf drifted gently from her fingertips, like a silent sigh.
Her face held a gentle expression, as if she were simply coaxing a willful child to sleep.
Then, she stood up, picked up the longsword that Gu Zhixing had dropped, and coldly asked, "Who wants to die first?"
The voice was so soft it sounded like a soliloquy, yet it carried an undeniable chill.
The warmth of Gu Zhixing's palm still lingered on the sword hilt, as if he had never left.
As she slowly straightened up, the bloodstains on her plain white skirt blurred in the twilight, like red plum blossoms suddenly blooming in the snow, dazzling and alluring.
The men in black exchanged glances, a hint of surprise flashing in their eyes, before bursting into sneer, as if mocking her overestimation of her abilities.
The man in black at the front wore a bronze demon mask, and a hideous scar ran across half of his face, resembling a twisted centipede.
He drawled out his words with a mocking tone: "A little brat like you dares to spout such nonsense..."
Rough fingers rubbed the rope wrapped around the knife handle, making a "crunching" sound, as if enjoying the impending killing.
The last note was still lingering in the air when Shen Jintang's figure had already turned into a white shadow.
Her movements were so fast that they were almost invisible, as if she were just a phantom in front of one's eyes.
Scarface felt a chill on his neck, and a coldness instantly spread from his spine.
He raised his hand blankly to his throat, and when his fingertips touched the warm liquid, his pupils suddenly contracted, his eyes filled with disbelief and terror.
He tried to shout, but could only let out a gasp. Blood gushed from between his fingers, drawing a tragic arc in the setting sun, like a blooming blood-red flower.
His body began to tremble violently, his hands flailing wildly in the air as if trying to grab onto something, but finding no foothold.
Finally, he slowly knelt down, clutching his throat with both hands. Blood gushed from between his fingers, staining the withered leaves at his feet and the desolate forest red.
"Thump—"
Only when the body collapsed to the ground did the other men in black seem to wake from their daze.
They watched in horror as the frail figure stood in the pool of blood, her longsword pointing diagonally at the ground, a drop of blood clinging to its tip, slowly falling and splashing onto the withered leaves, creating a dark flower-like pattern, as if silently proclaiming the end of life.
The others finally realized something was wrong, but it was too late.
Shen Jintang's figure weaved through the crowd like an elegant yet deadly cheetah.
Each sword strike precisely pierced the vital points, without the slightest hesitation or flaw.
Her movements were fluid and graceful, only her slightly furrowed brows and gradually paling face betrayed the bleeding wound on her abdomen.
However, this did not affect her skills in the slightest.
In her eyes, these well-trained men in black were nothing more than lambs to the slaughter, utterly powerless.
"Thump—"
Another man in black fell, and Ye Qingzhou was completely stunned.
He slumped to the ground, even rubbing his eyes mechanically and unconsciously.
Is this really the usually delicate and pampered Miss Shen?
This is clearly a god of death!
How could his eldest son say that the Shen family girl was weak and unable to take care of herself?
Ye Qingzhou even began to doubt whether the person he heard from Gu Zhixing was the same person he was seeing now.
"My lord! There's something strange about this girl!"
A man in black retreated in terror, his voice trembling.
The head servant's expression finally changed; he realized that the woman before him was no ordinary opponent.
However, the Crown Prince gave them a death order: if they did not obtain the heads of Gu Zhixing and Shen Jintang, they would have to return and offer up their own heads.
Therefore, no matter what happens today, he cannot back down.
"Whoosh—"
Shi Shu drew her twin swords and attacked like a ghost, her blades flashing with a fierce killing intent.
Shen Jintang dodged the first blow by turning to the side, but the tip of her sword grazed her opponent's wrist, leaving a deep bloody mark.
The second cut grazed her neck, severing a few strands of her hair, which drifted in the air like flower petals brushed by the wind.
After three moves, Shi Shu's twin swords clattered to the ground. He clutched his bleeding shoulder, his eyes filled with horror: "Who are you—"
Shen Jintang didn't give him a chance to finish his question. With a flash of sword light, Shi Shu retreated several steps and then fell heavily to the ground.
The death of Shi Shu seemed to be a signal to retreat. Upon hearing this, the remaining men in black immediately scattered and fled, as if driven by this sudden fear to escape this land of death.
She did not pursue, but stood quietly in place, blood dripping from the tip of her sword. The blood dripped onto the withered leaves, making a faint sound.
The night breeze brushed against her blood-stained skirt, causing it to sway gently, like a lotus flower blooming amidst the crimson, proud and aloof.
"Whoosh—whoosh—"
Two dark figures swooped down from the treetops, like deadly ghosts, silent yet incredibly swift.
The fleeing man in black let out a series of short screams, then the sound abruptly stopped, followed by silence, as if swallowed by darkness.
Xinghui and Liuhuo knelt on one knee in front of Shen Jintang, their black clothes stained with undried blood, making them particularly conspicuous.
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