Turning into the familiar alley again, Shen Qing stopped.
"There's no one here, why don't you come out?"
Rong Xuan appeared in front of Shen Qing. He recognized this place.
It was from here that Rong Xuan brought back Rong Qing, whose arms were dislocated.
"Hey, Murong Zhi has found someone else to follow me. Where's Rong Qing? Is his injury not healed yet?"
Shen Qing’s words were enough to make Rong Xuan furious.
"It was you who did it!"
"What are you referring to?" Chen Qing asked doubtfully, "Is it the bloody right hand in the hunting ground? Or the gurgling boiling water in the deserted cold palace?"
"Chen Qing, you deserve to die." Rong Xuan clenched the sword in his hand, his chest heaving violently.
"Don't you deserve to die?" Shen Qing smiled and approached Rong Xuan, "He is your own brother. While he was suffering, you were enjoying the singing and dancing!"
"I..." Rong Xuan's pupils trembled slightly.
"Many times, he longed for you to come and save him, to rescue him from the water and fire!"
"Perhaps, when he was enduring the pain, only thinking about the moments he spent with his brother could ease the pain a little."
“What a pity…”
Shen Qing's eyes were reproachful and her voice was slightly seductive.
"No, stop talking!"
"Rong Xuan, aren't you the one who deserves to die?"
"It's me, the damned one, it should be me..."
The sword in Rong Xuan's hand was trembling, his expression was blurred and his eyes were lifeless.
"Yeah, who can I blame..."
Just as Rong Xuan put the sword on his neck, a stone came from the side and hit the tip of his sword.
It also made Rong Xuan wake up.
Murong Zhi's appearance was beyond Shen Qing's expectations.
"Oh no, I've been discovered..."
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