83 Don’t You Dare (1/2)

”Shing!”

Tie Cheng's refined sword flashed luminously in mid-air before landing powerfully onto the lock but did not leave the slightest mark.

Tie Cheng was stunned. He then felt a cold gaze falling upon his back. Turning around, he caught sight of Hu Sang, who was standing outside of the noisy crowd and looking at him quietly.

Dazed, he remembered that Hu Sang's father was a reputable craftsman.

”My father refined it from a thousand-year steel piece that he had been keeping,” Hu Sang informed him, somewhat mockingly. ”You can't break it.”

”Why? Why?” Tie Cheng growled. ”Why must you do this?”

”She deserves to die.” The hatred and jealousy Hu Sang felt toward Meng Fuyao was evident in her eyes. ”She deserves it!”

Tie Cheng stared sluggishly at her, sensing immense agitation, despair and madness within her eyes. Standing in shock, he felt his heart slowly sinking.

”Thud.”

The dull collision of the human body against city gate sounded like a muffled thunder on a summer's day. Blood seeped through the creaks and splattered all over Tie Cheng's fingers. He lowered his head. 'Is that Meng Fuyao?'

The specks of blood reminded him of the loneliness, desolateness, helplessness, and determination in her slightly reddened eyes before she left. They contained a warm and unyielding persistence, in which green smoke rose in spirals.

Such eyes shouldn't belong to a girl who was only 18 years of age.

A fate that involved blood and tears wasn't a responsibility this courageous girl should have to shoulder.

Tie Cheng fell onto his knees.

In the 19 years that he had been alive, he had never felt his knees or even neck turn weak. Yet, before the city gate and amid the dust he collapsed, solidly, onto the ground.

He started kowtowing before Hu Sang's eyes.

”Please, I beg you. Let her go. She's innocent...” Tie Cheng pleaded with blood and mud stuck on his face. Together with the bruises on his forehead, he was almost unrecognizable. Regardless of that, he continued smashing his head onto the ground and pleading in grief. It was his first time going down on his knees and begging for a girl who wasn't even a friend. Yet, in comparison to what the whole city owed her, he felt that he could never ever compensate for it.

”Please, save her. Key... where's the key? Give me the key... I'll exchange my whole family asset for it–––”

Hu Sang looked at him coldly, her eyes full of hatred. Some time later, she turned to leave.

”There's no key.”

Tie Cheng knelt in a daze, his mind completely blank. Another thud sounded from behind him, and he knew not whose body had slammed against the door once more before falling to the ground. Tie Cheng daren't turn to look at the corpse. He was afraid of recognizing it as the girl he had so admired. He was afraid that he would never get to see those bright and firm eyes of hers. He was afraid that he would have to live with the permanent fact that he had watched her, with his own eyes, go out there and battle her way out of the enemy's hands, only to die by his own people's selfishness and doubt.

”Ah!”

Tie Cheng raised his head and let out another shrieking cry.

”Ah!”

Yet another anguished wailing could be heard as the second last man in black died under a fierce wave of attack.

The Rong army did not release their arrows. They let out a cold smile and looked at Meng Fuyao like how a cat would a mouse. They enjoyed seeing how she was unable to enter the city, how she was being betrayed by her own people upon killing countless of their young soldiers, and how the city guards simply looked on at her, unmoved and unconvinced.

They laughed at their heart's content.

Meng Fuyao had already fallen into silence at this point.

She was as quiet as a bare yet pencil-straight tree, her expression as cold as frozen water.

She leaned against the door that probably wasn't going to open, the blood over her body transforming into mottled prints on the wall. It was the last gift she could give to the city. Right here, before the city gate where her blood-filled body rested and where corpses lay beside her, Meng Fuyao was ultimately unable to clear the doubt and anger of the city guards. She had no future.

She swept her gaze across the field of the blood-stained ground.

On it were three corpses with missing skeletons, and only the leading man in black was left by her side, and even then, he was already severely injured.

This elite team had almost been wiped out because of her. The leader of the team was struggling as he retrieved a dagger meant for close-range combat. He staggered forward, prepared to use his remaining breath to take on the bloodthirsty enemy with him.

Meng Fuyao dug her fingers into the city wall, causing blood to ooze out from her fingertips.

It was blood from her heart.

It was a city she had resided in for two months. She was truly fond of it and truly felt the warmth within it. She enjoyed the cordial greetings that traveled around during the morning and evenings, and she enjoyed the warmth that she had never experienced before this. She cherished and yearned for more of it, and because of that, precisely, she had chosen to assume the responsibility of protecting the city at the most challenging time instead of ignoring it. She hadn't expected an outcome like this.

In response to her sacrifice and investment, the citizens had cast her outside their door.

She had never expected them to throw their lives away for her.

Was there any logic in the affairs of the world?

And in regard to such a deranged situation, was there a reason for her to continue?