Surrounding the Drunken Breeze Pavilion were hundreds of high-level and low-level assassins, along with some highly respected Elders and seniors renowned across the martial world.

As the largest assassin organization in the Long Xia Kingdom, the Nether Sect had an incredibly deep well of resources.

Luo Wanchun showed not the slightest sign of retreat. She gripped her sword tightly, her cold eyes sharp and ruthless. With a shout, she charged forward to kill.

Out of the thousand people, no more than a few dozen survived. Grandmasters, venerable seniors, and experts fell one by one to the ground.

At some point, the clouds dispersed, revealing a full moon. Under its light, the ground in front of the Drunken Breeze Pavilion was stained red for miles, a bloody sea amid corpses. A woman in blue, her steps leaving scarlet footprints, ascended the fiery red steps into the pavilion.

The blood droplets dripping from her sword sparkled like gemstones.

A screen blocked Luo Wanchun’s path.

“Yan Zixu, come out and face your death!”

Luo Wanchun swung her sword. The sword energy cleaved through the screen like a rainbow.

From behind the screen, a murderous aura rushed towards her. Luo Wanchun retreated three steps as Yan Zixu’s slash hit empty air, sending tables and chairs flying apart instantly.

Luo Wanchun lightly tapped the ground and leaped several meters. Her sword strike sent up a whirlwind of dust.

Yan Zixu swiftly dodged, leaving Luo Wanchun’s blow to hit nothing but the floor, which splintered with a menacing crack.

Luo Wanchun raised her sword, and the fierce aura it exuded caused the surrounding temperature to plummet. Yan Zixu, alarmed, had no time to think as Luo Wanchun’s sword wave surged toward him, as powerful as a storm.

Yan Zixu took the hit squarely, crashing through a window and flying out of the building.

Coughing up blood, Yan Zixu’s face turned ashen.

With sword in hand, Luo Wanchun flew out and stood over Yan Zixu, looking down at him.

Yan Zixu was utterly baffled. How had Luo Wanchun become so powerful in just three days?

“Yan Zixu, it’s time for you to go to hell!”

Luo Wanchun said coldly, raising her sword for the final blow. But the voice of Zhuohua from behind made her freeze.

“Luo Wanchun!”

Zhuohua’s voice was filled with surprise and confusion.

Luo Wanchun was certain it was Zhuohua.

Even another ten or twenty years, she would be able to recognize her voice in a sea of people.

Luo Wanchun turned around dazedly, seeing the gaunt face of Zhuohua.

A surge of grievance, heartache, and guilt welled up in her, instantly reddening her eyes and choking her voice.

“Zhuohua…”

Luo Wanchun could barely hear her own voice. Her sword clattered to the ground, and much of the murderous aura around her dissipated.

Zhuohua’s weary eyes looked at her coldly and lifelessly, as if she hadn’t heard Luo Wanchun’s call.

Dragging her heavy steps, Luo Wanchun cautiously approached her. Taking advantage of their distraction, Yan Zixu launched a surprise attack. Zhuohua was about to shout a warning, but Luo Wanchun turned and struck Yan Zixu with her palm.

That blow was like an iron rod, piercing right through Yan Zixu, leaving a bloody hole in his torso. With eyes wide open in unwillingness, he fell, lifeless.

Luo Wanchun turned back, thinking that they could finally leave together, just like before. But…

When Luo Wanchun turned, all she saw was a cold sword plunged into her body.

Her pupils widened in shock, and she grabbed the blade, instantly cutting her hand deeply as blood flowed profusely.

The wounds on her body, the cut on her hand—none of it seemed to hurt as much anymore. Luo Wanchun slowly lifted her head, tears following suit.

Zhuohua’s expression remained indifferent and icy, her gaze as if she were looking at an enemy.

“Do you hate me?”

Luo Wanchun asked in disbelief.

Zhuohua, with teary eyes and gritted teeth, roared, “Why did you come back? Why did you come back!!!”

“You…”

Do you regret it?

Do you regret exchanging your fate with mine back then?

Luo Wanchun wanted to ask, to question her, but she didn’t dare, because Zhuohua’s eyes had already answered her.

Closing her eyes, Luo Wanchun couldn’t stop the tears from falling. With a heart-wrenching scream, she gripped the sword’s blade tightly and snapped it.

Luo Wanchun fell straight to the ground, her body shattering but feeling no pain.

Zhuohua, I don’t blame you!

As her vision blurred, memories flashed through her mind like a revolving lantern, only to be blown away by a gust of wind, disappearing completely.

Luo Wanchun closed her eyes, lying on the ground, silent and still.

Zhuohua slumped to the ground, her gaunt face pale and haggard. Tears rolled down her cheeks as she reached out to touch Luo Wanchun, but her hands trembled uncontrollably. She could no longer hold back her sobs and cried out, blaming her.

“We’re even now! We’re even! Why did you come back?”

That night, when Zhuohua chose to trade her life for Luo Wanchun’s escape, she had made up her mind. Luo Wanchun would leave and never return, using her life to settle their sisterly bond. From then on, they would owe each other nothing.

In truth, Zhuohua regretted the moment she was violated at the Drunken Breeze Pavilion. She regretted swapping the notes with Luo Wanchun.

She had thought, if they hadn’t swapped, she wouldn’t have been the one defiled.

Zhuohua knew such thoughts were selfish and despicable. That’s why she risked her life to save Luo Wanchun from the Torture Chamber and sent her away, wanting to settle their debt and regain a shred of her pitiful dignity.

But Luo Wanchun returned anyway. Zhuohua didn’t know how to face her. At the sight of the sword, she felt a murderous intent. She thought, would everything end if Luo Wanchun died?

Mesmerized, Zhuohua picked up the sword and stabbed her. It wasn’t until Luo Wanchun fell to the ground that Zhuohua felt the immense pain and regret.

Humans have emotions and desires. With these come both good and evil. Accumulated hatred turns into malice, a common human sentiment.

That night, the Nether Sect was reduced to ashes, and no one knew who did it. The largest assassin organization disappeared from the martial world overnight.

Some said it was a woman in blue. Others said they personally saw a frail, delicate beauty emerging alone from the sea of flames.

Rumors spread across the martial world, but there was never a final verdict.

At the peak of a mountain on the outskirts of Zhou City, Shuiyang and Shi Zhao waited for an entire day. As the sunset filled the western sky, Shuiyang let out a long sigh and said, “Let’s go. She’s not coming.”

Shi Zhao joked, “Could it be that she ran off with your sword?”

Shuiyang looked towards Zhou City, her eyes cold. “The sword is broken, the affection severed; when people die, like extinguished lanterns, past grievances are annulled. The living must live well, and the dead will be remembered.”

With that, Shuiyang turned to leave.

Shi Zhao immediately followed, “Where are we going now?”

“To find a place to stay in the city.”

“An inn?”

“No.”

“Then where will you stay?”

…

Zhuhua, Zhuhua, a lifetime of grace and beauty, only to end in desolation and sorrow.