Chapter 113 Pulling each other's hair
Wen Yao reached out and wiped the rain off his face.
The gray-robed man quickly explained, "It's just suppressing the internal force, there's no harm." They were able to follow the Xianyin Division out, and their martial arts skills were not bad, and they could be considered masters in Bei Liao. But facing the Xingyi Sword that defeated Diela, being cautious was far from enough.
Hao Chunhe couldn't hold onto Wen Yao's shoulder and fell sideways. Wen Yao lifted the old man up, reached for the porcelain bottle, opened it, and gulped down the icy liquid inside. This damn thing was actually sweet; Wen Yao tasted the flavor of acacia honey. Not only was it sweet, but it also worked quickly. Wen Yao concentrated his energy in his palms, his internal energy stagnating like half-dried mud and water, sinking to his dantian and unable to escape.
Wen Yao raised his eyes and looked at the two princes of the Li family: "I killed your Western Dynasty Emperor, and you can let him go?" What kind of deal did he make with Yelu Duhan?
Jinyun just got married, so she wouldn't turn her back on me and join forces with Northern Liao to attack Tianshui, right?
Li Fubai didn't answer her, as if he didn't hear her.
Wen Yao dropped the bottle and, without further ado, quickly sheathed her Xingyi sword and followed the gray-robed man out. Despite the chaotic situation, she remained remarkably calm, her thoughts splitting in two as if by a broadsword. One part felt Hao Chunhe's icy warmth, thinking about the heavy rain and the need to shield him from it. The other part drifted away, thinking about Yelu Duhan, Tianshui Xichao, and finally, Zhao Xuanxu.
This time it was a bit too much. If she couldn't return to Tianshui, she couldn't imagine how angry Zhao Xuanxu would be.
It will be difficult to coax her then.
Wen Yao walked silently along the way, carrying someone on her back. Behind her was Yelu Duhan, the sound of horse hooves falling at a distance. At the very back were the capture troops and the crossbow troops, escorting the two Western Dynasty princes towards the palace gate. It was a rather strange scene.
When she reached the palace gate, Wen Yao saw a carriage parked outside. A man in a gray robe came forward, took down a footstool, and motioned for her to get in.
Wen Yao didn't move and said, "I want Hao Chunhe to be buried with his wife and daughter."
"Okay." Yelu Duhan lowered his eyes, his emerald pupils hidden behind his long eyelashes. He nodded and instructed someone, saying, "Go prepare the coffin."
Wen Yao refused to get on the carriage and continued, "I want a big one. I want the whole family to lie together."
The gray-robed man took the order and left in a hurry.
Yelu Duhan suddenly asked, "You don't want to get on the carriage, are you waiting for Zhao Xuanxu?"
He spoke Tianshui dialect well, his pronunciation was soft and gentle, his voice was not loud, and he suppressed his emotions, giving people a strange and dangerous feeling, like a viper spitting out its tongue.
"If he's smart, he should leave Xingqing now." Yelu Duhan stared at Wen Yao and said softly, "If he doesn't leave, he will never be able to leave again in this life."
"I'm giving you a suggestion. Why don't you just kill me?" Wen Yao stepped onto the footstool and slowly placed Hao Chunhe in the sedan chair. He lifted the curtain with one hand, turned his head back, and said, "Otherwise, if the medicine doesn't work, you'll be the first to die."
The indifference and even hostility in her words were like a thin needle, which pierced Yelu Duhan's heart and spewed out thick poison on the surface of his meridians.
"Wen Yao." Yelu Duhan's handsome face darkened, and he couldn't help but sneer, "After just one year, you really think you love him this much? You're so vulgar, letting a good-looking man say a few nice words to fool you!"
These words were truly sour, like a jealous woman. The gray-robed men around Yelu Duhan now wished they could not understand Tianshui dialect.
Wen Yao loosened her grip, and the curtain fell, separating her from Yelu Duhan. Yelu Duhan was so angry at her behavior that he closed his eyes again, reached out and grabbed the reins fiercely, and turned away.
Leaning against the carriage, the surroundings quieted down, and Wen Yao realized her heart was beating wildly, reaching an abnormal rhythm. She leaned against the wall for a while, then sat up with her arms propped up to wipe Hao Chunhe's face, saying as she wiped, "See? You're in big trouble now. You're the most comfortable one. After you get your revenge, you can go and be with your wife and children, without having to worry about anything."
The carriage was luxurious and cushioned. Wen Yao didn't hesitate, picking him up and wiping the blood off Hao Chunhe's body. "I think someone followed you when we went to see Wanniang that day. Wanniang and Xi'er need to move to another place. I think we should just bury you with them and return to Tianshui."
Hao Chunhe's wounds were deep, the flesh ripped apart, a hideous sight. Soaking in the rain for so long, the wounds had scoured to a pale pink, then turned white and swollen. Wen Yao wiped the last traces of blood from Hao Chunhe's body and let him lean back in a chair. Then she pulled a porcelain vase from her bosom, pushed the car window open a little with her fingertips, and gently tilted the vase downward toward the outside, letting a fine dust drift out.
Anything produced by Bai Rang must be a high-quality product.
A short while later, the sound of people falling could be heard from outside the carriage. Before anyone outside could react, Wen Yao took a deep breath, suddenly gathering all her internal energy and thrusting it towards her dantian. A sharp, tearing pain suddenly erupted, and she groaned, throwing her head back and spitting blood. Her internal energy had instantly returned to about 50% or 60%.
She wiped the blood from the edge of her lips with her fingertips and sneered. It was just a detoxifying powder, diluted with honey. Did he really think she could do nothing to him?
A cold light flashed, and the sword blossomed into autumn lotus flowers. The huge carriage was like a peeled orange, shattering into pieces and smashing around. Wen Yao seemed unaware of the burning pain in his dantian. With an expressionless face, he rushed towards Yelu Duhan. Without the slightest hesitation, the Xingyi Sword went straight to his heart!
"Zheng!"
Yelu Duhan quickly fell backward, narrowly avoiding the fatal blow. The Xingyi sword slashed a hideous bloody streak from his right heart to his left shoulder. He turned to draw his sword, but felt a pain in his neck. Wen Yao landed behind him, the Xingyi sword resting squarely on his neck. This strike, without any force, ripped his flesh from the meteorite blade, drawing blood.
The gray-robed men outside who had not fallen down yet were about to step forward, but when they saw this scene, they immediately stopped.
Wen Yao stuck close to Yelu Duhan, breathing heavily into his ear: "I've told you, it's better to kill me."
Even after being in the rain for so long, Wen Yao's body was still warm. A strong sense of warmth came from the point of their skin touching. Yelu Duhan's Adam's apple rolled, and he raised his neck a little, his eyes subconsciously turning back to look at her.
"Don't move." Wen Yao reached out, her fingers digging into Yelu Duhan's hair, firmly grasping the back of his head. She looked up at the gray-robed men around her and said, "I want you to do two things. If you can't do them well, I'll kill him."
The force in her hand increased, and the wound on Yelu Duhan's neck quickly deepened, and the blood flowed faster. A bearded man in a gray robe became anxious, his brown eyes fixed on Wen Yao, and he said in a strange accent, "Put down the sword, what do you want?"
"I need a carriage with good horses, and I want to take it to the city gate." Wen Yao paused and said, "I also want Hao Chunhe to be buried with his wife and daughter and taken back to Tianshui. It just so happens that someone of yours is guarding the grave, so take them here, also to the city gate."
Yelu Duhan didn't know why, but with the Xingyi Sword at his neck, he didn't show any nervousness or fear. Even his previous irritability disappeared. He sat in front of Wen Yao and sneered sarcastically, "Xingyi Sword is indeed loyal and righteous. He would rather kill me than let my beloved and old friends return to Tianshui safely."
"It's not that I'd rather." Wen Yao said slowly, "You—I don't know whether to call you Lou Chengyi or Yelu Duhan now. Anyway, you'd better shut up. I really want to kill you. If you talk too much nonsense, I might lose control and kill you. Your grand plan of revenge will be ruined, which is a pity."
After saying this, Wen Yao ignored Yelu Duhan's suddenly frozen expression, turned his head to look at the gray-robed man, and whispered, "Hurry up and go!"
The city gate was completely quiet, with only the occasional barking of dogs echoing from the distant woods. The chaos in the palace had been deliberately suppressed, and no word of it reached this side.
Zhao Xuanxu stood beneath the tree, the rain obscured by the dense foliage above his head. As it fell, it quietly flowed along the ground, pooling around his boots and wetting a circle of his robe. Not far away, three carefully selected horses stood grazing. Several stalls had been waiting nearby for a long time, gradually noticing something was amiss and growing restless.
One person whispered, "Isn't it too late? Why not go to the palace and take a look?" Entering the palace and killing the emperor—such a big thing, only two people were going to do it. Even if one of these two people was Fei Ye Ke and the other Xing Yi Jian, he still felt it was truly audacious.
The other few people secretly watched Zhao Xuanxu, but didn't dare to speak at all.
Their master was truly strange. He was so gentle and kind in front of Commander Wen, but as soon as Commander Wen left, he immediately became terrifying. With his black robe and pale complexion, he looked like a ghost when he stood there.
As they pondered this, a sudden movement erupted from the silent city gate ahead. Two tightly closed doors slowly opened, and a strange carriage emerged.
Why is this carriage so strange? Because there is a huge coffin lying horizontally behind it.
The spy didn't understand what was going on, so he looked over and saw a group of people behind the carriage, a group of Liao people with shaved heads. The commander, Commander Wen, whom he had been waiting for, was sitting on a horse with a green-eyed man, holding the man in front of him with a sword at his side. His face looked unsightly, as if he were injured.
Aren't they going to the palace to kill the emperor? What's going on with this coffin and these Liao people?
As the spy was thinking this, he suddenly felt his hand lighten. The longbow slung over his shoulder was taken away by Zhao Xuanxu, and three swords were missing from his quiver.
The rain pattered against the woods, and the darkness was so great that only silhouettes could be seen. This was the first time the spy had been so close to Zhao Xuanxu. He watched him walk out, longbow and arrow in hand.
The woods weren't far from the city gate, and even though it was raining, the Liao soldiers noticed the movement immediately. They turned their heads and watched Zhao Xuanxu, arrow in hand, step through the dense grass and walk to the center of the road.
"You—" Yelu Duhan, upon seeing Zhao Xuanxu, was instantly overwhelmed by a surge of murderous intent, unable to stop it. He glanced at the longbow in Zhao Xuanxu's hand, then smiled maliciously, his voice hoarse, "It's a pity that the arrow wasn't fired with enough force to kill you."
"What a coincidence." Zhao Xuanxu said, "I want to kill you too."
Qiong Yulou had this thought since their first encounter, and it had only intensified over and over again. He felt Yelu Duhan deserved death, and now he felt he was stupid.
That arrow that had pierced Ning'er's heart and sunk into his palm was like a thorn firmly lodged in A'yao's heart. He had kept silent about it out of fear that A'yao would feel bad, but how could Yelu Duhan, the instigator, dare to say so?
What an idiot.
Northern Liao relies on such a fool. It seems that Zhang Yun doesn't need to spend much effort to be on guard against him, as he will kill himself.
Zhao Xuanxu emerged from the woods and stood in the rain, his face instantly soaked by the rain. His damp eyes and brows shone with a cold, strange, and hostile aura. His gaze flickered from Wenyao's arm draped across Yelu Duhan's shoulders to her pale cheek and the blood-stained corner of her lips.
The spy who followed him out widened his eyes and listened with pain as the bow and arrow he had spent a lot of money on creaked in Prince Yan's hand.
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