Chapter 64
Chapter Sixty-Four
Meng Yingying tried her best to break through, but her magic was restricted and she couldn't activate it. She felt a lump in her throat, and breathing became difficult: "I don't need your help, all of you, leave, all of you, leave!"
"Meng Yuan, don't you believe anything I said?" Tan Yuhua tapped the wooden fish and said, "As long as you kill the ghost fetus, all of this will end. No one will be sacrificed, and you can leave this world."
Meng Yingying looked up, and there stood Tan Yuhua, speaking to her across the four of them, each word striking at her heart, as if trying to break down her defenses. The entire land seemed to be faintly groaning.
"Earth, you cannot distinguish between good and bad, what kind of earth are you! Heaven, you have wrongly judged the wise and foolish, what kind of heaven are you!"
"Earth, you cannot distinguish between good and bad, what kind of earth are you! Heaven, you have wrongly judged the wise and foolish, what kind of heaven are you!"
"Earth, you cannot distinguish between good and bad, what kind of earth are you! Heaven, you have wrongly judged the wise and foolish, what kind of heaven are you!"
"Earth, you cannot distinguish between good and bad, what kind of earth are you! Heaven, you have wrongly judged the wise and foolish, what kind of heaven are you!"
Countless voices overlapped, voicing resentful and demanding questions, causing Meng Yingying's skull to throb with pain.
They began to fight, and the black hands kept growing. Their strength was limited, and these black hands absorbed the resentment from underground, which they could not exhaust or cut off.
The entire land has long since become a place where the resentful spirits of the dead dwell.
The source, the source, the source—where is it? If we kill the source, all this will end. Meng Yingying's eyes scanned rapidly; the dense black mist, seeping into people's noses, was suffocating and unbearable.
Tan Yuhua chuckled softly. He'd encountered some of the world's rarest fools: Ning Yue was one, and Meng Yuan was another. They were all fools who would do anything for someone. How could such people survive? Was it just their hearts?
Zhou Xiuqi, wielding the Evil-Repelling Sword, charged straight at Tan Yuhua. Tan Yuhua easily dodged. Behind him, Xiao Zheyu thrust forward with a short jade sword. Tan Yuhua reached out and grabbed her hand, forcefully twisting it backward. Xiao Zheyu's expression changed instantly. He retaliated by stabbing straight down at the hand that had been gripping him. The jade sword pierced through Tan Yuhua's palm, connecting to it, while Xiao Zheyu's wrist was also severed. Blood splattered, but Tan Yuhua laughed maniacally. He leaned close to Xiao Zheyu: "Your Highness, does it hurt?"
Xiao Zheyu smiled contemptuously, gritting her teeth, and raised her eyes to look at him as if he were dirt: "You think I'm afraid of pain?" She gripped the hilt of her sword and slowly turned it. A slight smile played on her lips: "Seeing your face makes me feel hypocritical."
“Don’t you hate him? Do you know what he used to be like? Just like you are now, crazy, obsessed, disgusting.” Xiao Zheyu said each word with a tremor in his voice.
Do you know how he died?
Xiao Zheyu laughed coldly, his clear and cold eyes looking at him seriously: "My sword is not sharp enough. It took one strike, one strike, one strike to cut off his head."
Tan Yuhua squinted and frowned slightly.
Xiao Zheyu's blood flowed down her skirt. Tan Yuhua tried to pull his hand away, but Xiao Zheyu smiled and pressed his hand down with her other hand: "Don't turn around."
A sword, shimmering with magical power, pierced Tan Yuhua's heart. Zhou Xiuqi, without changing his expression, pulled the sword out. Tan Yuhua stared at the wound for a long time, then forcefully pushed Xiao Zheyu away, causing the jade sword to fall to the ground.
Tan Yuhua: "We all prosper together, we all suffer together. How many times can you use this method? How long can your body bleed like this?"
Xiao Zheyu wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth: "If it goes wrong once, then we'll just have to cut it a few more times."
Zhou Xiuqi squatted down and forcefully lifted her chin. Xiao Zheyu was startled as he placed a pill into her lips with his fingertip. The bitter medicinal aroma spread in her mouth, and she gently pursed her lips.
Tan Yuhua stood still, without making a move. The black hand remained motionless in the ground. He smiled slowly and said, "Unfortunately, I'm not the main character today."
The words had barely left his mouth.
Before Meng Yingying could react, her vision was blurred by blood. A chilling coldness crept up from the depths of her heart, and her ominous premonition grew stronger and stronger. Her fingertips trembled; she could move her hand again, but she dared not move it. Only when the person who cast the talisman removed it could it be removed, or only when she died.
[We've detected significant emotional fluctuations in the host!]
[We've detected significant emotional fluctuations in the host!]
[We've detected significant emotional fluctuations in the host!]
[Erase some memories, start anew—]
She opened her eyes, letting out a piercing scream, unable to maintain her composure. She lunged forward, picking up their severed limbs, her robes clinging to the ground. She couldn't believe it: "How could this be... how could this be... they were the main characters... how could they be dead..."
She was trembling all over when a pair of boots stopped in front of her.
Holding her other hand, he placed the sword hilt into her grasp. Meng Yingying's mind went blank. This cold touch... Tan Yuhua. It was all Tan Yuhua, all Tan Yuhua.
They are all epiphyllum flowers.
Kill him, kill him.
Kill him.
Kill him!!!
Meng Yingying gripped the sword hilt tightly, tilted her head back, and the sword pierced through the wound. A pair of hands stroked her cheeks, wiping away the blood.
He smiled, his fox-like eyes gleaming.
From his heart, spider lilies began to bloom, and thousands of blood vessels uncontrollably gushed from his chest. Meng Yingying felt a chill at her temple and asked helplessly, "How come it's you?"
Shang Mang approached her, stabbing her sword deeper. Blood threads, like cocoons, enveloped them. Shang Mang raised her left hand, hovering it between them. The blood threads, as if finding their home, rushed to burrow into the red mole on her hand.
Shang Mang grinned, pressed his face against her wrist, and sniffed carefully. Apart from the fishy stench, he could not smell anything else. He laughed, his chest heaving, blood flowing incessantly.
"I gave you a choice."
"To love me or to hate me."
“But you neither want to love me nor hate me, you’re lying to me.” His voice was hoarse, like a ghost that had locked away a soul. “In that case, it’s better to be dead than alive.”
"Then I can only hate you, to gain your pity, and to make you look at me."
Meng Yingying's head was throbbing, as if something had forcibly invaded her mind. She could only listen to him speak, and countless fragments of thoughts surged forth from the depths of her mind.
"Now is the time."
Meng Yingying screamed in agony, her heart pounding with pain. She slowly opened her eyes and saw Shang Mang holding Sha Du, piercing her chest, his expression sinister.
Her lips moved, but only Shang Mang could hear what she said. As she fell, Shang Mang's eyes returned to normal, and he instinctively caught Meng Yingying and pulled her into his arms tightly.
His brows were furrowed, his expression pained, and he seemed to want to cry, but no tears came.
Shang Mang picked up the calamity beside her, and fiercely carved a line in his palm. His bleeding palm covered her tightly holding hand, and the blood flowed through his pulse.
Meng Yingying stood at a distance, raised her arm, and looked at the red mole on her wrist. How did she get this red mole?
Shang Mang bent down and said, "My fate is not in the lines on your hands."
He released his grip, and the gruesome bloodstains on his hand overlapped with the handprints on Meng Yingying's hand.
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