To Death

The thirteenth.

Zheng Huaiyi was dead.

His face still bore traces of terror even in death.

Yet Wang Gou'er, who was still alive, found himself envying the dead man—after all, Zheng Huaiyi no longer had to fear anything.

Facing Yang An.

Facing the ghost-like Yang An.

Wang Gou'er's pants were soaked with filth and stench, his courage shattered, tears and snot smeared across his face. With his arms and spine broken, he used his chin to drag himself across the ground, legs kicking feebly, crawling toward the door like a maggot.

Even though the door had long been locked.

Even though he knew there was no escape, he still desperately clawed his way forward.

His chin scraped against the ground, skin and flesh torn away.

Blood smeared behind him in a gruesome trail, yet he barely noticed.

Watching Wang Gou'er flee,

Huff.

Huff.

Huff.

Yang An panted, his ears so quiet he could only hear his own ragged breaths. He could feel himself on the verge of collapse—maybe the next second, maybe if he closed his eyes, they would never open again.

He had to kill Wang Gou'er before he fell.

He had to kill him! Leave none alive!

"Ah!"

Yang An roared, his eyes bloodshot, as he wrenched his body free from the short spear embedded in him, collapsing to the ground in a bloody heap.

He picked up the dagger that had been knocked away.

Tried to push himself up with his still-functional right arm.

But now, he couldn’t even straighten his back.

He had no strength left to stand.

If he couldn’t stand, then he wouldn’t. Yang An clenched the dagger between his teeth and crawled toward Wang Gou'er, using his right hand to drag himself forward.

Wang Gou'er screamed in horror, "Stay away!"

"I’ll give you money! So much money you’ll never spend it all, not in ten lifetimes!"

"Spare me, Yang An! Please spare me!"

Yang An didn’t respond, only stared at him with death in his eyes, inching closer.

Keke, witnessing this scene,

Was so stunned she forgot to cry.

Clutching her swollen cheek, she scrambled up from the ground and grabbed Wang Gou'er’s pant leg. "You can’t run! You evil man, you can’t escape!"

"Get off me!!"

Bang! Wang Gou'er kicked her in the stomach, the pain turning Keke’s face ghostly white.

She wanted to cry but held it back.

Clutching his pant leg tighter, she screamed, "You can’t run! You did something horrible! You bullied people! How dare you try to escape now! Aren’t you shameless?!"

"Shameless? Screw you!"

"Bitch! Trash! Vermin!"

"Let go, you damn girl! Let go!!!" Two more kicks—Wang Gou'er used the last of his strength to stomp on Keke’s face.

Her cheek swelled.

Blood trickled from her nose.

Keke, just a girl of eleven or twelve, collapsed from the pain. But seeing Wang Gou'er about to escape, she sobbed and forced herself up. "Big brother, I’ll help you!"

Unable to stop Wang Gou'er,

She ran to Yang An’s side, gritted her teeth, and used her small frame to prop up half of his body.

Helped him stagger to his feet.

Supported him as they pursued Wang Gou'er together.

Yang An glanced at Keke, but he didn’t even have the strength to say thank you.

The two of them stumbled forward in pursuit.

Wang Gou'er crawled ahead.

Reaching the locked door, he bashed his head against it—thud! Thud! Thud!—until blood streamed down his face. He wailed, "Someone! Help me!"

"Please, anyone! Save me!"

"I swear I’ll change! I’ll do good deeds! Just save me!!!"

As if heaven heard his plea,

Just as Yang An was about to catch him,

A bone-chilling cold descended. The temperature in the hall plummeted, frost creeping across the floor, walls, and pools of blood.

A sword’s gleam, radiant as moonlight, sliced through the air.

The locked door.

Was shattered from the outside by a single slash. Wooden splinters froze midair, clattering to the ground like hail.

Wang Gou'er, sprawled before the door, froze in shock.

He lifted his head to look outside.

In the snowy night stood a woman in white robes, her cascading black hair adorned with delicate ornaments. Her presence was both sacred and aloof, faint luminescence swirling around her—like the moon goddess Chang’e or the Bodhisattva of the bamboo grove.

Her face was veiled, but her peerless grace was undeniable.

Seeing such a celestial figure, hope flared in Wang Gou'er’s eyes. He cried out, "Immortal Lady, save me! Please—"

Before he could finish,

A golden flash—the dagger plunged through the back of his skull and out his mouth, splattering blood as it pinned him to the icy ground before the woman in white.

The fourteenth.

And the last.

Listening to his own ragged breaths, Yang An stood in the blood-soaked hall, locking eyes with the white-robed woman across Wang Gou'er’s corpse.

His face was streaked with blood, his black hair disheveled.

The woman’s gaze lingered on his striking features for a moment longer than necessary. Yang An, sensing she wasn’t allied with Wang Gou'er, looked away.

He pushed aside Keke, her face wet with tears.

Staggering, he dragged himself to Wang Gou'er’s body and yanked the dagger free.

"Did you kill all these people?"

The woman’s voice was ethereal, cold yet melodious, like a mountain spring.

Yang An didn’t have the energy to answer.

After wiping the dagger clean and sheathing it, he rifled through Wang Gou'er’s clothes, finding a pouch of silver and a stack of banknotes.

Then, mechanically, he moved toward Zheng Huaiyi’s corpse.

Ignored, the woman turned her attention to Keke. Gently touching the girl’s swollen face, she asked, "They hurt you?"

"Miss!"

Hearing the woman’s concern, Keke’s pent-up emotions burst. She leaped up like a koala, clinging to the woman’s waist, burying her face in her robes. "Miss, why did you take so long?! These people were so evil! They kidnapped so many girls like me!"

"They even tried to steal your jade flute!"

"And they hit me! Look at my face! If not for this big brother, they would’ve—sob—!"

The woman pushed Keke away in disgust.

Her fingers glowed with a faint light.

With a flick, she wiped away Keke’s tears and snot, even healing the swelling on her face.

Hearing that Yang An had saved her maid, the woman’s frosty demeanor softened slightly. She turned back to the blood-drenched man. "Your injuries are severe. Without treatment, you’ll die."

At that moment,

Yang An pulled a golden fruit from Zheng Huaiyi’s body—fragrant, gleaming.

He didn’t know what it was.

Didn’t care. He devoured it in three bites.

The moment it entered his stomach, a surge of energy jolted through his exhausted body.

Clutching that fleeting strength,

Yang An took a deep breath and distributed the silver notes he had confiscated from Wang Gou'er to the five unfortunate women who had been abducted and brought here.

If he didn’t want to implicate his sister and brother-in-law,

the best course of action would be to kill all these women.

But Yang An couldn’t bring himself to do it. Instead, he gave them the silver notes, making them accomplices. If they dared report to the authorities, they too would lose their heads.

He tucked the remaining silver into his robe,

intending to give it to his sister and her husband—to see them one last time—

before heading to the Princess’s estate to meet his fate.

With unsteady steps, Yang An walked out of the room. As he passed by the woman in white, she spoke again: "You saved my maid. I owe you a favor. Is there anything you need me to do?"

Yang An shook his head.

Clutching the silver, he walked toward home.

The snow and wind lashed at him. He longed to see Li Yan and Yang Ning one last time, but fate was unkind. After only a few steps, the darkness in the east began to fade, and the sky lightened.

It was almost Chen hour—too late to return home.

Yang An paused in silence for a moment, then turned back, his voice hoarse as he addressed the woman in white: "Could I ask you for a favor?"

The woman replied, "You may."

"Please deliver this silver to Li Yan and his wife in Wanshou Lane. Thank you." Yang An pulled out the bloodstained silver and handed it to her.

Noticing her pristine white robes, untouched by dust—

more radiant than the moon itself—

Yang An withdrew his hand, found a clean spot on his clothes, and wiped the blood from the silver before offering it again.

The woman in white studied him for a moment.

Without a word, she took the silver and asked, "Is that all?"

"Yes."

Yang An thanked her once more, then turned and walked in the opposite direction—toward the Princess’s estate.

The journey there had been through snow and wind.

Now, he retraced his steps through the same storm.

Watching Yang An’s figure gradually disappear into the blizzard, Keke complained, "Miss, that big brother was a good man. Why didn’t you save him?"

Recalling the calm resignation in Yang An’s eyes,

the woman in white replied indifferently, "Men like him don’t need anyone to save them." With that, she took Keke’s hand, and the two vanished into the snow.

......

As the sky grew brighter,

inside the Princess’s estate, maidservants moved in orderly lines—some carrying lavish robes, others holding cosmetics, and still others bearing jewelry and ornaments.

Princess Anle, freshly awakened,

had already washed her face under the care of her chief maid, Lan, and changed into a plain undergarment. She lounged lazily before a bronze mirror.

Three graceful maidservants—

one to her left, one to her right, and one behind her—carefully combed her long hair, while two quick-fingered attendants trimmed her nails.

Amidst the bustling service,

Qin Guo'er, her eyes still closed, leaned back in her cushioned chair and asked drowsily, "What time is it?"

"Your Highness, it’s nearly Chen hour," Lan replied after a moment’s thought. "Are you thinking about that hunter? Given the time, he probably won’t come. Country folk like him are all talk—given a chance to live, they’d abandon even their parents, let alone a sister and brother-in-law."

Princess Anle neither agreed nor disagreed. Casually, she said, "If he comes, kill him. If he doesn’t, kill his entire family."

"Right, Manman?"

Manman, who had just woken up and was munching on a meat pie, nodded vigorously.

Whatever the Princess said, nodding was the correct response. As she chewed the savory pastry, she felt much wiser.

Just then,

a maidservant rushed in from outside!

Qin Guo'er disliked close contact, especially with strangers, so only a dozen or so people in the entire estate were permitted to enter her inner chambers.

The maidservant stopped at the door,

bowed, and reported, "Your Highness, that young hunter has arrived!"

At this,

Princess Anle’s phoenix eyes flew open.

Lan, who had been attending to her, gaped in disbelief. "He came? That hunter isn’t afraid of death? He actually dared to show up!"

Qin Guo'er suppressed a smile.

She turned to order the maidservant to summon Yang An inside—

but forgot her hair was still being combed. The sudden movement caused the maid to accidentally pull out a few strands.

Qin Guo'er frowned slightly.

The maidservant immediately dropped to her knees in terror.

Something similar had happened years ago—a maid who had hurt the Princess while combing her hair had been whipped dozens of times, her back flayed raw! It had taken months to heal.

Now, with hair torn out,

wouldn’t the punishment be death?

The guilty maidservant trembled, kowtowing desperately. "Spare me, Your Highness! This lowly one deserves death!"

Lan knew the Princess’s cold nature well.

If she waited for Qin Guo'er to speak, the girl would surely die.

To save the clumsy maid,

Lan kicked her with just enough force to send her rolling across the floor, then scolded, "You reckless fool! How dare you harm the Princess? Go and receive fifty lashes!"

The maidservant shuddered, preparing to leave for her punishment.

But Qin Guo'er, in an uncharacteristically good mood, waved it off. "It’s just two strands of hair—no need to be harsh. Later, she can take ten lashes and be done with it."

Lan stared at the Princess in shock.

Was this really the same ruthless woman she knew? Since when had she become so lenient?

Spared from death

and granted only ten lashes, the maidservant kowtowed repeatedly in gratitude.

Distracted by news of Yang An,

Qin Guo'er had no patience for the maid’s fate. She asked the messenger, "Where is he? If he’s here, why hasn’t he come to see me?"

"Your Highness, the hunter is outside the estate, but... it’s inconvenient for him to come in..."

"Inconvenient? What could possibly inconvenience him? Does he expect me to go to him?" Qin Guo'er’s expression darkened.

Lan sneered in agreement. "A mere hunter dares to put on airs before the Princess? Send guards to drag him here!"

Qin Guo'er said, "No need."

Lan: ?

The Princess’s lips curved. "I’ll go see what game he’s playing myself."

Lan: ?

Princess, are you feeling alright today? Did you eat something strange before bed last night?

Qin Guo'er rose from her dressing table.

Bare-faced, her silken hair loose, and clad only in her plain undergarment, she moved to leave.

Lan gasped and grabbed her. "Your Highness! My Princess! You haven’t done your hair or put on outer robes! You can’t go out like this!"

"True."

Qin Guo'er had the offending maid fetch a crimson fox-fur cloak and draped it over her shoulders. With a bewitching smile, she said, "This will do."

"But you haven’t done your makeup!"

"Even without it, I remain the most beautiful woman in the world."

Lan was speechless.

Having grown up with the Princess, she knew better than anyone how much Qin Guo'er cared about appearances. Never had she seen her step out without being perfectly groomed!

Before she could protest further,

the Princess was already out the door. Lan grabbed the still-eating Manman

and hurried after her.

Seated in a carriage drawn by azure phoenixes, Princess Anle swiftly traversed the estate’s courtyards to the front gates. Through the curtains, she caught sight of Yang An.

Resting her chin on her hand, she froze.

There, in the snowstorm,

The eccentric young hunter, his black hair disheveled, leaned against the manor gate, his scorching blood seeping from countless wounds and melting the snow beneath him.

At the faint sound of movement,

he lifted his gaze toward the ornate carriage where she sat.

The curtains obscured Qin Guo'er from view,

but Yang An knew all too well—that spiteful woman was surely watching him from within, no doubt sneering at his wretched state.

He refused to appear any more pitiful before her.

Snow slid from his shoulders as the icy wind whipped through his bloodstained hair.

Bracing himself against the wall, Yang An forced himself upright, mustering the last of his strength to declare, "Princess... I have come to die."