"Get out!" the young master roared, kicking the man hard in the shoulder.
The man screamed and was kicked away, rolling several times before daring not to utter another sound.
The young master stared at Shen Jintang for a moment, his eyes filled with malice.
Then, he had his men re-tie Shen Jintang's hands, held a knife to her neck, and said viciously, "Go!"
Shen Jintang was pushed forward by two burly men, the rough hemp rope digging deep into her slender wrists, chafing her skin painfully.
At the gate of the mountain stronghold, the night wind swept by, carrying dust that stung people's cheeks.
Shen Jintang was pushed outside the gate, the moonlight shining on her, making her appear exceptionally cold and aloof.
Young master Chen Jingshan hid at the very back of the crowd, only revealing half of his sinister face.
"Don't move!" Chen Jingshan's voice came from behind the human wall, trembling with a hint of ruthlessness. "Your Highness, have your men retreat down the mountain! Otherwise—"
He gave a signal, and the burly man holding Shen Jintang immediately pushed the knife toward her neck.
Gu Zhixing stood at the front of the formation, his eyes gleaming coldly in the firelight.
When he saw Shen Jintang's appearance clearly, his pupils suddenly contracted.
Her hair was disheveled and stuck to her pale cheeks, but the most striking thing was the thin bloodstain on her neck—a bead of bright red blood slid down her snow-white skin, staining her collar.
He stared intently at the young master, his eyes surging with a violent killing intent.
"Chen Jingshan." Gu Zhixing's voice was terrifyingly low, each word seemingly squeezed out from between his teeth, "You're courting death."
Hiding behind the crowd, Chen Jingshan couldn't help but shrink back, but still forced himself to shout, "Enough nonsense! Retreat! Otherwise, I'll have her killed right now!"
Shen Jintang was pushed forward, the rough hemp rope chafing her wrists until they ached.
The knife was pressed tightly against her throat, the blade still stained with the trace of blood from the earlier cut.
She could feel the bandit behind her breathing rapidly and erratically, and his hand holding the knife was trembling slightly—he was afraid.
Gu Zhixing's pupils suddenly contracted, his knuckles clenched until they turned white, and his knuckles made a slight "crackling" sound.
He stared intently at the young master, his eyes surging with violent killing intent, but his voice was terrifyingly cold: "Release her."
Outside the gate of the stockade, a dark mass of soldiers stood in formation, their torches forming a continuous line that illuminated the night as if it were daytime.
At the very front, Gu Zhixing stood tall and elegant, holding a long sword. His cold and stern face was as sharp as if carved by a knife in the firelight, and his eyes were so cold that they seemed to freeze everything.
"I told you to have your men back off!"
As soon as Chen Jingshan finished speaking, the burly man behind him tightened the rope, causing Shen Jintang to groan in pain.
She gritted her teeth, not letting herself make any more noise, only slightly furrowing her brows, but her eyes remained firm.
Gu Zhixing clenched his fist tightly, his knuckles cracking, and veins bulging.
He stared intently at the burly man who was holding Shen Jintang in a chokehold, his eyes so fierce it seemed he wanted to tear him to pieces.
His breathing was slightly rapid, but every movement was extremely restrained.
"Back off! Everyone back off!" Chen Jingshan, hiding at the very back of the crowd, shouted shrilly, "I'll count to three! If you don't back off, I'll have someone slice her alive, piece by piece!"
His voice came from behind the human wall, carrying a desperate, reckless edge, as if he was prepared to perish together with everyone else.
Ye Qingzhou approached from behind, the fabric of their clothes making a slight rustling sound.
He lowered his voice and said, "Boss, we can't trust this thief's words. If we retreat now..." He stopped midway and his gaze fell on Shen Jintang's blood-soaked collar. His Adam's apple bobbed. "Not to mention Shen Jintang, even we are at their mercy."
This puts him in a completely passive position, and he believes his boss figured it out long ago.
But because the person tied up on the other side was Shen Jintang, he was afraid that his boss might not be thinking clearly.
The veins on Gu Zhixing's hands, hanging by his sides, bulged.
He saw that Shen Jintang's hands, which were tied behind her back, had turned blue and purple, saw her eyelashes trembling slightly from the pain, and saw the resolute look in her eyes when she looked at him.
His heart felt as if it were being violently gripped, the pain almost making it hard to breathe.
Gu Zhixing took a deep breath and slowly raised his hand: "The entire army—"
His voice was deep and powerful, yet trembled slightly. "Back off."
"Boss!" Ye Qingzhou's eyes widened, but when he saw Gu Zhixing's gaze, he knew he couldn't influence Gu Zhixing's judgment, so he could only sigh.
Gu Zhixing's gaze never left Shen Jintang, his eyes swirling with suppressed anger and heartache.
His hands, hidden beneath his cloak, were already bulging with veins, yet he had to suppress his killing intent and wait for the perfect moment.
Shen Jintang could clearly feel Gu Zhixing's piercing gaze fixed on him. His breathing became noticeably heavier, and his chest heaved violently, as if he was trying his best to suppress the turmoil in his heart.
She gently shook her head, her eyes firm and calm, signaling him not to act impulsively.
Gu Zhixing's jaw was clenched, and his voice was low and dangerous: "If you hurt her even a little, I'll make you wish you were dead."
Every word seemed to be squeezed out from between his teeth, carrying a strong killing intent.
The young master's hands trembled even more violently, but he still forced a cold laugh: "Enough nonsense! Withdraw your troops! Or I'll slit her throat right now!"
"Step back."
Gu Zhixing suddenly raised his hand, his voice like sandpaper scraping against stone, deep and powerful, "Everyone, retreat to the foot of the mountain."
The torchlight, like the receding tide, meandered down the mountain path. Only when the last spark disappeared around the corner did the young master peek out from behind the human wall.
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