Chapter 140 A Branch in the Nest Forest (3)
The surrounding temperature continued to rise, emitting an unpleasant odor that caused a headache, and debris from buildings charred by the fire kept falling down.
The dizziness in her head made her break out in a cold sweat.
What's even clearer is the feeling of nausea.
Shu Ningmiao arched her back, her right hand pressed firmly against her left ribs, sweat dripping down her face and instantly evaporating in the heat.
Several ribs on the lower left side broke instantly upon impact, and the bone fragments squeezed together in the chest, making a few crisp cracking sounds.
Before she could make a move, a deep, hoarse laugh came from afar. It would take time for the stone to block Pandora, but a mere instant was enough for the other party to react. Before large patches of necrotic skin could spread further, they were ruthlessly dug out and torn off by fingers.
Bullets rolled to the ground one after another. Wei Shengqianheng looked at her with a smile, but his pupils were full of death.
She was like a fish being roasted in a stove; even the slightest movement was excruciating, let alone any other action.
His laughter was like an invisible noose around her neck, tightening more and more. The flames burned her skin, but the icy feeling seeped into her very being. Ironically, this coldness made her mind a little clearer.
The micro-life was eerily quiet; even the creaking, teeth-grinding healing sounds of its body had vanished, and the silence only evoked a sense of dread.
That enormous, invisible, terrifying shadow made one break out in a cold sweat even in the raging fire.
She slowly raised her head. The bullet holes remaining on the man's gray skin were healing at an inhuman speed, like trembling snake scales. His eyes stared at her like dark, gaping windows.
The man's thin fingertips trembled, and his five fingers clenched together.
The instant his knuckles gripped the void, the surrounding air began to twist and crack abruptly, and a sword half the height of a person slashed out from mid-air, using his wrist as a point.
The airflow generated when the sword was drawn almost extinguished all the flames within a three- or four-meter radius. The tip of the sword dragged on the ground, spitting out bright white sparks.
The low pressure around my ears made my mind buzz.
The familiar, cold, sharp light swept across Shu Ningmiao's eyes like water, illuminating the burning fire in her eyes clearly.
He was the one who overthrew the parliament, he was the one who committed the crime in New Territories, he was the one behind Achini, and he was also the one who easily dragged her into this vortex.
She wasn't even his initial target.
Her death was nothing more than the death of an ant he crushed to achieve his goal.
So even though he knew she was rebuilding her body and was aware of her anger, he didn't treat her as an opponent. Instead, he approached her, gave her ambiguous hints, and pulled her into the quagmire beside him.
His leniency and friendliness were nothing but contempt.
Wei Shengqianheng brandished his sword.
Now the executioner's sword is in Shu Changyan's hands. He has somehow pulled the sword out of the past from some timeline. Three hundred years have passed, and the sword, like the person in front of him, is immortal and unchanged.
Do those eyes hold violence or murderous intent?
...No, there's nothing there.
His eyes... were empty, only a profoundly quiet blankness.
In the blink of an eye, the sword light had already sliced through the air, emitting a long, mournful cry, and was only inches away from her.
She gritted her teeth, turned sideways and fell to the ground. Taking advantage of the moment when the flames were temporarily dispersed, she rolled several times on the ground, using the momentum of the rolls to just avoid a sharp sword.
The pain intensified with each movement. Shu Ningmiao had no time to catch her breath. She quickly got up from the ground, gripping the gun tightly, and stared at him expressionlessly.
She bent her index finger, wedged the groove of the ejector lever with the base of her thumb, and slowly pushed the cartridge with her fingertip, producing a clicking sound.
However, there were actually no bullets left in the magazine of this Dian-05.
Perhaps because of its simple structure and greater controllability, the developers designed the Dian-05 to mimic the semi-automatic structure of a vintage revolver in order to minimize ejection and feeding malfunctions.
Most people's first gun in a shooting class is a revolver, and they hardly need much time to get used to it. The problem with this semi-automatic pistol is that after firing all six bullets, the spent cartridge case will remain in the chamber, and you have to manually eject the cartridge.
Shu Ningmiao pushed the ejection lever upwards, and empty cartridge cases fell to the ground one after another.
With a series of crisp clanging sounds, five spent cartridge cases rolled to her feet one by one.
There were only five cartridge cases.
One shot to the forehead, two shots to the chest, and two shots to the throat.
She fired five shots at Wei Shengqianheng.
But this gun... has six bullets in total.
Shu Ningmiao staggered back a few steps, coughed again, and struggled to brace herself against the wall to prevent herself from sliding down: "Want to guess where the other bullet is?"
The blood she coughed up slid down her lips. She tilted her head back, a sneer rising from her throat. She flicked her wrist, and the six empty chambers inside the chamber spun with inertia.
Wei Shengqianheng raised his eyebrows slightly, as if sensing something, and looked down at his palm.
Click.
The faint cracking sound was quickly masked by the crackling of the raging flames, but for his body it was no less deafening than the sound of earth collapsing.
His hands, arms, and face were cracked inch by inch. His pale skin, as thin as paper, began to break apart. Countless cracks extended from his chest to his limbs, and his flesh and bones shattered in an instant.
This strong rejection reaction originated from within his own body.
...So that's how it is. The five bullets she just fired into his body were all just a smokescreen.
The purpose of hitting these specific locations was merely to conceal the growing abnormality of the stone bullet that had been embedded in his body for some time.
Wei Shengqianheng stared intently at her, his lips moved slightly, and when he spoke, he had already regained his composure: "When?"
"There's one bullet left." Shu Ningmiao closed her eyes tightly, and when she opened them again, she was calm.
Soon, that emotion turned into mockery, which gradually magnified in her dark red pupils: "I gave it to him while I was dancing."
When Shi Yu extended the invitation to her.
As their dance steps slid into the center of the dance floor, the flowing white skirts, in their twirling motions, obscured the moment their palms touched. At that moment, she discreetly slipped the bullet she had plucked from the magazine into Shi Yu's hand.
For a superhuman to swallow a bullet made of stone is tantamount to self-destruction, but Shi Yu swallowed the bullet.
Everyone thought he wanted to live, but only Shu Ningmiao knew that he longed to die.
Without any discussion or planning, they hadn't even exchanged a single word or sent a single message before today.
The object of that "belief" was never something as small as a thousand rivers.
She has eyes; she can tell the difference.
Pandora's constructed body collapsed rapidly under the influence of the foundation stone, engulfing his senses. Wei Sheng Qianheng glanced at her indifferently, his brows furrowed with barely concealed anger.
The silence they maintained until this moment had actually concealed the truth from him flawlessly.
Wei Shengqianheng's body was like a porcelain doll or a clay figure; its pale skin crumbled and shattered, falling off with a crackling sound as it shattered into pieces, completely destroyed.
Beneath the shattered, peeling shell, a pale hand and platinum blonde hair soaked in grime were revealed.
Shi Yu looked up, and streaks of black liquid and scarlet blood flowed down her forehead from her once clean and fair face, mixing together and obscuring her features. Only her pale gray eyes stared at her from afar.
Blood gushed from the gruesome bullet holes, his knees buckled, and he slid down, only to be caught by a hand just in time by his collar.
Shu Ningmiao rushed over and grabbed his collar, preventing him from kneeling down like that.
Blood had soaked his entire forehead. His cold fingers gently rested on the back of her hand, sliding down her hand wearily and listlessly.
He gasped nervously, "Dirty."
Her clothes were soaked with clumps of dirt, and Shi Yu stood there as if she would collapse at any moment. She grabbed her wrist and used it to lift her head with difficulty. Her mouth and nostrils were full of blood.
Large patches of scarlet blood mixed with muddy black blood clung together under the scorching heat of the flames, and large patches of bluish-purple blood streaks appeared on the skin, revealing an extremely wretched appearance.
He scratched the skin on his neck with his fingertips, making more blood flow out, as if he wanted to drain all the blood out of his body.
He repeatedly wiped away the thick black and dust from his face with the back of his hands until his slender hands, which he used to play the piano, were also covered with blood and dust.
With several broken ribs, Shu Ningmiao had just recovered a little when her ears started ringing and she could barely breathe. After a long while, she whispered, "Don't wipe it, it's not dirty."
Shi Yu leaned closer, released his hands, buried his face in her shoulder, and ran his cool hand through her waist. His doll-like face was expressionless.
Her dress was burned to ashes in the flames, and he was covered in blood and mud, stripped of all the glamour and splendor, all the desires, the fragility, the ugliness, the most understanding, the most complete and authentic self.
Shu Ningmiao slowly knelt on the ground, staring blankly at his hair, which was soaked in blood and almost unrecognizable.
Shi Yu hugged her with all his might like a child, and she didn't push him away.
The shadows dancing in front of the trellis in the garden, the petals falling from her head—he found it amusing that the girl's attitude towards music class was "just enough to get by while chatting." He casually pressed the keys and asked her to guess the pieces. She was clever; she could guess 80-90% of the pieces he played. If she guessed correctly, she would take the opportunity to extort money from him; if she guessed incorrectly, she would pretend nothing had happened. Shi Yu closed his eyes, recalling this ordinary scene again and again, sketching the girl's less-than-gentle expression.
"I don't understand." Shi Yu stared blankly at a point in the void, her expression indifferent and somewhat numb. "How can I become a normal person?"
The garden that lingered in his dreams, and the sunlight so beautiful it seemed unreal, were only there because someone was watching him. Only Shu Ningmiao clearly saw all his struggles and hidden pains; only she truly saw herself.
He could pretend to be perfect forever, but without her, he could only live in fear.
"Who am I?" he asked her softly, opening his eyes. "I don't think I'm quite sure myself."
She called his name softly: "Shi Yu".
This time she wasn't impatient.
The stone spread throughout his body, limbs and bones. The wounds that were pierced through him would not heal, but would only deteriorate until they collapsed. He knew that the mess of tears and blood on his face must be an ugly sight that he could not tolerate.
“It’s alright…” He raised his face, his vision already blurred from blood loss, and traced the blurry patches of color to her face, his fingers trembling tightly: “It’s alright.”
“Because of me…you.” Shi Yu swallowed a word whole, ignoring the blood trickling down his forehead and neck. His pupils began to dilate, and his voice gradually lowered: “So even if I am so pathetic in front of you, I can endure it.”
He lowered his head helplessly, curled up, lay on his side on her knees, and closed his eyes.
Shu Ningmiao remained silent throughout, listening quietly to him speak. Her fingertips stroked his soft hair as if to soothe him. A stream of black blood flowed from his ear and onto her hand.
Shi Yu's tired face held an extremely peaceful and serene expression. His slightly lowered gaze fell on the stairs. His mother rushed out of the room, blocked by the fire curtain between the floors. Her eyes were wide open, staring blankly at him, her lips moving, when she suddenly burst into loud wailing.
He had never seen Lady Grana look so ferocious before. He was stunned for a moment, then just smiled faintly, unmoved.
A soft singing voice reached her ears, and Shu Ningmiao withdrew her gaze from the top of the stairs and lowered her eyes.
Shi Yu hummed very softly, casually and intermittently, to a familiar melody.
Tiny specks of fluorescent green light fell on her shoulders as she hummed, drifting upstairs on the hot wind and forming an invisible protective shield that kept the flames out.
Shu Ningmiao said, "It's Rachmaninoff's Second Concerto."
Shi Yu gave a nonchalant "hmm," and her soft breathing gradually faded as the fire began to subside.
He closed his eyes and lay on the swing in the garden. The wind carried the sweet fragrance of flowers. He twitched his ears and heard her calling him "Shi Yu".
This world has already consumed him in flames.
He didn't want to go out anymore.
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Author's Note: Young Master Shi is a truly awful person. He killed every single one of the people Wei Sheng ordered him to kill, without any remorse. He's a genuinely dangerous individual... but he's also a truly awful person. And while Shi might break down, he'll never say, "I'd die for you." He didn't really want to live anyway.
Miaomiao's Little Classroom: Shi Yu is the one who's smelly and a clean freak, and Wei Sheng has no highlights in his eyes.
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