"Splash, splash, splash…" More than twenty men in black broke through the water, surrounding them from all directions. Brandishing streaks of white light shimmering with frigid coldness, they charged straight toward the boat.
The guards on the boat drew their swords to meet the attack, leaving a few men to protect the purple-robed man in the center. The purple-robed man grabbed the woman beside him and said in a deep voice, "Miss, just stay behind me. I will protect you."
Manyao was slightly stunned. At this moment, he actually still remembered to protect her, a woman he had just met by chance. It seemed a brutal battle was unavoidable.
The men in black possessed extremely high martial arts; each one was fierce and courageous. Wherever their swords reached, blood splashed like rain, and the guards on the boat were quickly outmatched. Those men in black had bloodthirsty gazes, like butchers risen from hell, killing anyone they saw. The women playing zithers and dancing were unarmed, without any ability to fight back. The long swords of the men in black swept through them, and waves of miserable screams filled the air. In moments, Manyao and the others were surrounded. On the deck, severed limbs and mutilated arms flew about, blood foam splattering everywhere. The lake water was stained a bright red, and the thick, pungent stench of blood endlessly permeated the humid air above the lake surface. This originally serene and tranquil Qingliang Lake instantly became a brutal Asura battlefield.
The purple-robed man had somehow already gripped his sword. The middle-aged man protected him from the front. Linger also seized a sword and blocked in front of Manyao, shedding her usual reckless and impulsive nature, assuming a desperate and serious posture.
"Who are you?" the purple-robed man asked.
The men in black didn't answer. They exchanged glances and attacked with their swords, their movements swift and fierce. The middle-aged man and Linger raised their swords to meet them and were soon besieged.
The purple-robed man's gaze sharpened. A fierce, domineering aura surged from between his brows. He shielded Manyao behind him, channeled his energy, and swept out with his sword. The sword qi was overpowering and tyrannical, carrying the momentum of crushing weight atop Mount Tai, temporarily keeping the approaching men in black outside the range of his blade.
The water accumulating in the boat grew deeper, and the hull swayed unsteadily. With the purple-robed man's sword technique, if he didn't have to divide his attention to the woman behind him, dealing with several men in black at once wouldn't be too problematic. The men in black seemed to have pinpointed this weakness—every move targeted Manyao, causing the purple-robed man to be distracted, and danger arose frequently.
Manyao's gaze suddenly darkened. She said to the man protecting her in front, "Young Master, don't worry about me." With those words, she flicked the tip of her foot, catching a long sword flying through the air. Steeling her heart, she thrust it through the shoulder of the man in black attacking her. Blood splattered, reflecting in her cold, beautiful eyes as a patch of scarlet. If at this moment she still harbored thoughts about how precious human life was, then she could only wait for a sword to pierce her throat and sink to the bottom of the lake. She didn't want to kill people, but she wanted even less to be killed by others.
Hearing this, the purple-robed man turned his head and was shocked on the spot. The white-clad woman he had protected behind him, whom he had thought weak and delicate, was now with her sleeves fluttering, her figure spinning rapidly, striking as fast as lightning, her movements clean and decisive—actually not inferior to him! He was extremely shaken in his heart—so she knew martial arts too! However, although her sword technique was extremely fast, the sharp sword piercing into enemy bodies never once aimed at the enemy's heart; it always deviated by a few inches, leaving room for mercy.
He looked at her, as if watching an enraged celestial fairy who had stirred killing intent and was struggling in her descent. He had an impulse to stop her, to let her stay safely behind him, to protect the fairy's holy hands from being tainted by bloodshed. Unfortunately, the reality of the situation didn't allow him to do so. A sword stabbed from behind; he suddenly came back to his senses and dodged barely in time.
The blood drawn by the sword in Manyao's hands dyed large patches of her snow-white clothes crimson. Watching living people fall under her sword, her vision filled entirely with flying flesh and blood, sinister winds gusting by her ears, a chill rising straight from her heart—this was her first time killing! There was no fear, no panic, only a bone-eroding coldness invading her lungs, spreading inch by inch across her heart. In this scorching summer, cold sweat covered her entire body, and her hands trembled uncontrollably.
When all the men in black around them had fallen, she tightly pressed her lips together, her face pale, the fingers gripping the sword somewhat numb.
Only the four of them remained in the entire pleasure boat. Linger had suffered two wounds on her arm; blood was gushing out. Seeing Manyao's expression wasn't right, she ignored the pain and hurriedly ran over, grabbing Manyao and asking nervously, "Master, what's wrong? Are you injured? Where? Is it serious?"
Manyao shook her head, her voice ethereal. "I'm fine. It'll pass in a while." Only after speaking did she see that Linger was injured, and she hurriedly said, "You're injured? Let me see."
Hearing that she was fine, Linger let out a breath of relief and said, "It's good that Master is fine."
Manyao saw that Linger's injuries weren't serious. She reached out and tore a strip of the light gauze from the boat, hastily wrapping it around her to stop the bleeding.
The purple-robed man looked at her and said, "Miss, is this your first time killing? These people aren't worth your sorrow. If you don't kill them, they will kill you."
Manyao didn't turn back. Of course she understood this, but understanding was one thing; doing it was another. Killing these people, she didn't feel guilt or remorse—she just... wasn't used to it.
The purple-robed man said again, "The boat is going to sink. We need to quickly find a way to leave. There may be more than just these people lying in ambush around here."
The accumulated water in the boat was already deep, shaking fiercely, and the hull was rapidly sinking. Manyao frowned. They were currently in the middle of the lake; the distance to the shore was too far. With her lightness skill, directly crossing to the other side was impossible. They could only go as far as possible, then swim underwater. She proposed this idea, and the middle-aged man immediately objected.
Linger asked, "Why?"
The purple-robed man showed an embarrassed expression and said, "I... I can't swim."
Manyao was slightly stunned. A person who couldn't swim could actually watch the cabin fill with water and still respond to the black-clad assassins with such composure and calm, without showing a trace of panic. She couldn't help but admire this person's mental fortitude.
The purple-robed man raised his head, his gaze locking onto the not-tall cliff nearest to them; there was a gap in the middle. He said, "With our martial arts, leaping up to that mountain pass shouldn't be a problem. However... there are likely even more people waiting for us there. Miss, you all should follow the method you suggested earlier and go to the opposite shore first. The two of us will head up that mountain. If... we can get out safely, then I will definitely prepare generous gifts and visit your residence to express my gratitude for your assistance just now."
Manyao instead said, "Let's go up the mountain together. Linger is injured; she's not suited for diving." Moreover, she wasn't certain if they would have the strength to swim to shore across such a distance.
The purple-robed man was not a wishy-washy person. He nodded immediately. The few of them exchanged glances, then leaped up one after another, flying straight toward the mountain pass opposite them.
Dark clouds split apart, scattering in all directions as if cleaved by the scorching sun hanging in the sky. The blazing sunlight filtered through the dense branches and leaves, casting mottled traces at the mountain pass. The stone walls on both sides were rugged and uneven. The cliff edge where they landed could just accommodate the four of them standing shoulder to shoulder.
Before their heels could steady, a strong, chilling killing intent assaulted their faces. The purple-robed man's prediction was indeed correct! There was indeed an ambush here, and the numbers were no fewer than before, perhaps even more.
At a distance of more than three zhang, countless men in black had surrounded the entire exit, a dark and dense mass. The pleasure boat in the lake had already sunk. The four of them stood in place, gripping the long swords in their hands, with no route of retreat left.
On a massive rock right above this mountain pass, a masked man in black stood with his back to them. In his eyes was a confident expression in his flawless calculations.
"Have your leader come out and speak," the purple-robed man shouted loudly at the men in black, his voice resounding and spreading through the mountains.
No one responded to him.
The purple-robed man said again, "What you want is my life; it has nothing to do with these two ladies. They are strangers whom I met by chance; we have no deep friendship. Please let them go."
Truly the conduct of a gentleman, but how could those men in black care about such things?
The men in black still ignored him. The purple-robed man wanted to speak again, but Manyao stopped him: "Young Master, there's no need to waste words with them. Today, I was fortunate enough to be invited by you to tour the lake; that counts as fate. Now that we've encountered this predicament, how could there be any reason to abandon you and leave? It would be more practical for the four of us to go all out."
She might be cold and indifferent by nature, but toward those who treated her sincerely, she could never, under any circumstances, abandon them.
The purple-robed man was so moved by her words that hot blood surged straight up. This woman seemed to always surprise him. He couldn't help looking at her, his expression excited: "If we can get out safely today, I will definitely..."
What he would definitely do, Manyao didn't hear. Manyao only saw the masked man in black on the rock above suddenly turn around after hearing her speak, looking over in their direction.
The moment the man in black's gaze touched her, his expression clearly changed. He then leaped down from the rock, landing in front of the crowd of men in black. Pointing at the purple-robed man, he said in a suppressed voice, "We only want this person. The others... may leave on their own."
This obvious voice disguise vaguely carried an indescribable sense of familiarity. Manyao's gaze was sharp, staring straight at the man in black. He wore a mask, his body wrapped in a wide black robe; he looked very strange. She lightly furrowed her brow, wanting to look straight into those cold eyes behind the mask, only to discover the other person's eyes flashing as he actually avoided her gaze.
"What if I don't leave?" she said, her gaze unwavering, tightly locking onto the other person's eyes. She felt that she knew this person.
The man in black's body slightly trembled, as if the wind had accidentally stirred his robes—so slight it was nearly imperceptible.
There was a moment of silence in the air, where even floating dust did not settle.
The man in black raised his hand to the side, and immediately a three-foot green-edge longsword was passed to him. The blade was as thin as a cicada's wing; the white cold light imprinted on the edge through the branches was chilling. He tightened his five fingers, the knuckles revealing firm strength. The sword tip pointed horizontally through the air, and sword qi burst forth with a whistle, shattering leaves into ash that instantly scattered in all directions.
Then, he commanded: "...Take them alive."
Another brutal battle ensued!
Manyao suppressed all the discomfort in her heart; her eyes were completely clear and cold. Looking at the pile of corpses before her, even breathing carried the nauseating smell of blood.
Before long, all four of them had suffered injuries to varying degrees, their movements clearly much slower than before. But those men in black remained fierce, charging forward wave after wave, as if they could never be completely killed. If not for the man in black saying "take them alive," they likely would have been killed or forced back into the lake. Their physical strength was gradually failing, yet the men in black opposite them still surged over in layers like tidal waves.
Manyao felt that her entire arm was numb, as if it no longer belonged to her. Utterly exhausted, she was still desperately wielding the sword in her hand. Another fierce thrust pierced into an opponent's body; warm, wet blood sprayed out, plastering her eyes.
The purple-robed man hurriedly said, "Are you alright?"
Manyao reached out and wiped her face; her hand was completely scarlet, just like when she had crawled out of the car before her death in her previous life, when she had wiped her hand across her forehead—that was the last sight she had of herself in that world. The pungent smell of blood filled her nose, inch by inch seeping into the bottom of her heart, stirring her insides to tremble. The scarlet color couldn't conceal the pallor of her face. She shook her head firmly, fingers that had nearly lost sensation still struggling to grip the sword hilt tightly.
The man in black looked at her, his pupils contracting, and spoke again: "It's still not too late for you to leave now."
Hearing this, the purple-robed man immediately said, "Miss, you all hurry and leave. Don't mind me."
Manyao tightly pressed her lips together, her gaze fixed on the man in black's eyes, not speaking.
"Master..."
"Miss, hurry and leave."
Manyao suddenly smiled and said, "I don't want to die, but I'm not one who clings to life in fear of death."
Her smile was very faint, very faint—so faint it made people feel somewhat sad.
The purple-robed man looked at her twice, then suddenly threw down his sword and said to the man in black, "I surrender. Have them all stop."
The middle-aged man was greatly horrified and cried out in alarm, "No! You cannot do this! Don't forget your identity and the mission you bear on your shoulders!" He no longer indulged him in everything, but in a very serious tone of an elder, reminded him of what should and should not be done.
The purple-robed man raised his head and said, "I also cannot let a woman die in vain for me. Otherwise, how could I stand tall between heaven and earth and educate my people in the future?"
"You..." The middle-aged man was rendered speechless by him and could only block before him with his sword.
Manyao frowned and was about to speak when she suddenly heard a loud, powerful voice from the distance: "Everyone stop!"
Along with this voice, many archers suddenly appeared on the mountain, surrounding the entire hilltop. Every one of them had their bows drawn to the full, numbering more than a thousand.
"Xiang Ying! Master, it's Xiang Ying! The General sent people to save us..." Linger shouted happily, but Manyao could no longer smile.
Hearing this, the man in black's gaze changed. Countless thoughts instantly welled up. Taking advantage of the moment when everyone was stunned, he let fly the green-edge sword straight at the purple-robed man, making one last desperate gamble.
With a whoosh, the green-edge sword tore through the air, incredibly swift. The purple-robed man had no sword in hand and simply couldn't defend. They stood at the edge of the mountain pass, lined up in a row; they couldn't even dodge, and could only watch helplessly as that sword stabbed straight toward his heart.
Manyao didn't think at all. She and the middle-aged man simultaneously used their swords to block, but they hadn't expected the internal force imbued in that sword to be so powerful. Even using all her strength, she only slightly altered the sword's direction. And that direction was exactly where she was standing.
The green-edge sword followed the direction of her arm and buried itself in her shoulder. Excruciating pain swept over her. Before she could even cry out, her body had already been struck flying by the sword's momentum, plunging straight down toward the center of the lake...
At the cliff pass, Linger cried out in terror: "Master!" And besides Linger, the one whose expression showed utter shock was actually the masked man in black who had rushed to the cliff pass! At this moment, he was stretching his hand toward her, his opened five fingers seeming to desperately want to grab her but in a futile, powerless manner.
Manyao couldn't help laughing sadly—so it really was him!
The bone-eroding pain came from her shoulder, but it couldn't compare to the desolation in her heart. Actually, death wasn't so terrifying to her; at least, that's what she felt at this moment. With eyes open, this world was still blue skies and clear waters, green mountains and white clouds...
In a trance, there seemed to be a white figure descending from the heavens, treading on water across the lake surface, rushing toward her. The speed was so fast—like an arrow released from a fully drawn bow, shooting toward her so urgently, so urgently—his posture was so perfect it seemed like an illusion.
She couldn't help mocking herself. She felt so tired. She had killed so many people today, overturning the ideological education she had received for more than twenty years. And on this day, she accepted a fact: in this world, life was fundamentally worthless.
Closing her eyes, she quietly waited for death to arrive, not hoping for a miracle. However, before her body could touch the water surface, it suddenly jolted. She was pulled by an extremely powerful force into a warm and hard chest.
A familiar, refreshing scent instantly filled the tip of her nose. She seemed to hear the violent heartbeat of the owner of that chest. With an expression that seemed both angry and fearful, he tightly bound her in his arms. In that instant, she had an illusion that she was the most indispensable part of that person's life. She wanted to raise her head to see that person's face, to see who else in this world would be so anxious for her? But before her eyelids could lift, the excruciating pain from her shoulder had already caused her to fall into unconsciousness.