Chapter 7: Defeated Dog

The sword techniques of Qingxiao and others were all military moves. Three criminals, realizing the unfavorable situation, exchanged glances, then swiftly leaped over the wall to escape.

The wind ceased, and the stagnant water reflected the shadows of bare branches.

Yu Lingxi held her breath and approached. She looked at the motionless youth on the ground through the curtain of her hat, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Is he dead?"

Qingxiao sheathed his sword, walked over, and turned the black-clad youth lying in the blood-water over. Meeting the youth's deep gaze, Qingxiao suddenly loosened his grip, feeling an inexplicable shock.

This youth had eyes as dangerous as a wild beast.

But in just a moment, that bone-chilling sense of danger disappeared, and the youth in front of them seemed weak, as if he could die at any moment.

Qingxiao quickly suppressed his surprise, stood up, and reported, "Miss, he's still alive."

Yu Lingxi let out a slight breath, unsure if it was relief or something else.

The youth lay on the ground, facing Yu Lingxi, his head slightly turned, and his chest stained with dark blood.

Thinking of her original purpose, Yu Lingxi moved her hand, holding the riding whip. The madman from her previous life now looked like a defeated dog, lying half-dead in front of her. But for some reason, her whip, seemingly as heavy as a thousand catties, couldn't be lifted.

Ning Yin's eyes were like a quiet black pool, reflecting Yu Lingxi's graceful figure without blinking.

Yu Lingxi couldn't describe his gaze—pitch black and quiet, yet surging with hidden currents. Those eyes seemed to absorb her emotions like a whirlpool. Flashes of her past grievances, sorrows, and anger passed before her eyes like a revolving lantern.

The silent wind passed through, and the hand holding the whip tightened, but ultimately, it couldn't be raised.

Yu Lingxi suddenly felt a wave of fatigue, pursed her lips, and said, "Qingxiao, let's go."

Qingxiao glanced at the youth on the ground, hesitated to speak, but ultimately said nothing. He led the other four guards to catch up with the somewhat hasty steps of their mistress.

Yu Lingxi didn't look back and didn't notice that the youth lying on the ground was staring fixedly in the direction she was leaving, gradually propping himself up.

Unsteady, leaning against the wall, he lowered his eyes, retracting the sharp short blade that had already been unsheathed from his sleeve.

The cold crows perched on the withered tree seemed to sense the murderous intent and fluttered away.

Just now, if that woman had shown the slightest malice, the short blade in his hand would have pierced her delicate and beautiful neck.

But she didn't.

It was strange. Meeting her twice in a row, the emotions in her eyes were complex—seemingly fearful yet angry. Clearly, she didn't like him, yet she still wanted to save him.

Interesting. The woman had too many unknown mysteries.

With these thoughts, Ning Yin calmly wiped away the bloodstains from the corner of his mouth, supported himself against the mottled wall, and followed the inconspicuous carriage step by step.

The carriage swayed, shaking off Yu Lingxi's thoughts.

She doubted whether she had gone crazy. Clearly determined to beat someone up, she ended up accidentally saving a person. With one burst of energy followed by decline, she was the embodiment of "decline."

Lost in thought, she suddenly heard a knock on the carriage wall.

"Miss, that young man has been following us from behind," said Qingxiao.

Yu Lingxi immediately got up, lifted the curtain, and looked back. She saw Ning Yin holding his chest where he was injured, supporting himself against the dilapidated wall, limping and following the carriage.

Yu Lingxi couldn't help but think of a little black dog she had fed casually when she was young. It followed her with reluctance for half a street, and no matter how she tried to drive it away, it wouldn't leave.

They were about to enter the main street of the Immortal City, where people were coming and going. It didn't look good for him to keep following like this.

Qingxiao spoke, "Miss, should we..."

Yu Lingxi's intuition told her that she shouldn't have any more involvement with Ning Yin. She hardened her heart and interrupted Qingxiao, "Let the horse run faster, go."

The horse neighed, and the buildings on the street rapidly receded. Ning Yin's figure gradually moved away, becoming a smaller and smaller black dot. Until his stubborn figure completely disappeared, Yu Lingxi let out a sigh, feeling a sense of relief as if finally coming up for air.

She left with a fierce momentum and returned with exhaustion.

After returning to her room, Yu Lingxi didn't say a word. She threw the small whip onto the table and slammed her face into the bedding, lying still.

Regret, a deep regret.

She refused to admit that she was softhearted, only frustratedly thinking: it seems being a villain also requires talent.

...

On the Winter Solstice, snow fell overnight, covering the entire capital in a vast expanse of white.

The incense at the Cien Temple was the most divine in the middle of the month. Mrs. Yu had planned to go to Cien Temple to fulfill her vows at this time. Unexpectedly, she fell ill before leaving, unable to bear the wind, frowning in worry.

Earlier, she had made vows at Cien Temple, praying for the early recovery of her husband and son who were "seriously ill."

Now that her wishes had come true, she couldn't neglect the matter of offering thanks to the Buddha.

"Let our daughter go and fulfill your vows for you," suggested Yu Lingxi, serving her mother medicine.

It happened that she also wanted to pay respects to the gods, ward off evil, and pray for Ning Yin.

"That's fine. Fruits, oil, and incense have all been prepared. When your brother finishes his business and comes back, have him take you to Cien Temple," Mrs. Yu said.

Yu Lingxi, still with a gentle and bright gaze despite her slight exhaustion, reassured her mother, "On a snowy day like this, I'll be careful."

At the evening hour, as the sun fell and the lanterns were lit.

The winding lights of the capital cast a beautiful reflection on the snow, unbelievably picturesque.

The carriage of the Yu Family entered the wide Yongning Lane, passing by another luxurious carriage with a precious canopy.

As the wind lifted the hanging flower curtains, Yu Lingxi caught a glimpse of the passing carriage and couldn't help but be stunned: she had seen that carriage in front of the Immortal Capital's arena.

"What's wrong?" Yu Huanchen reached out and waved in front of her.

Yu Lingxi came to her senses, thinking it was probably just a coincidence, and shook her head, saying, "Nothing."

The luxurious carriage turned a corner, and the side street of Yongning Lane continued for over a hundred feet, stopping in front of a secluded mansion.

The carriage sank, and a fat, richly dressed man walked out from inside. It was none other than Prince Ning Changrui, who had appeared in front of the arena.

Ning Changrui, immersed in alcohol and lust all year round, owned this mansion to raise slaves and concubines. He deliberately chose a quiet place away from the bustling market.

He, full of alcohol, held a carved walnut cane in his hand and stepped on a kneeling servant's stool as he descended to the ground.

The courtyard's snow remained uncleared, and Ning Changrui almost stumbled. Just as he was about to get angry, he heard a melodious sound of the zither coming from the hall.

Among the concubines, only one person could play such a melody, a woman who could make even bones go soft.

A lecherous smile appeared on Ning Changrui's purple face, and he impatiently dismissed his attendants, pushing open the door with a heavy breath, shouting, "Little girls, why are you indulging in this when I haven't seen you for so long..."

A "squelch" sound, his foot that just entered the door stepped on a slippery and sticky substance.

His smile froze, and he looked down at his feet, suddenly horrified.

It was blood! A lot of blood!

The ground was filled with the corpses of the mansion's attendants, and his beloved concubine sat in the sea of corpses, her face pale, tears of fear in her eyes.

A sharp dagger was pressed against her neck.

A black-clad young man with crossed long legs sat on the grandmaster's chair, supporting his temple with one hand and holding a dagger against the concubine's neck with the other, looking up, he said, "Continue playing." 

A sob, and the zither sound started again, intermittently.

"It's really a good day for listening to music today."

Ning Yin's posture remained unchanged, displaying a ruthless calmness different from the arena. He looked towards the grim-faced Prince Ning Changrui, lips curved, and said, "Isn't it, Second Uncle?"

Ning Changrui's drunkenness disappeared in an instant, and he clenched his teeth with a cracking sound.

"It's you." Ning Changrui glanced around, confirming that the young man had intruded alone into his mansion, and the fear in his eyes turned into disdain.

Even if he was formidable, he was just a wounded brat. Could he contend with the dozen or so slaves trained with human lives?

"I wanted you to die in the arena, but who knew your luck was so good, escaping time and time again."

Thinking of this, Ning Changrui played with the walnut, sneering, "Escaping is fine, but you dare to come to my mansion to seek death! Heaven has a way you don't take, hell has no doors you barge through!"

He waved his hand, and ten personal slaves armed with knives and swords surrounded the young man.

The strings of the zither snapped with a resounding twang, and the zither music abruptly stopped.

The cold wind swept through, and the gates of the mansion suddenly closed, concealing a ground covered in blood.

At the same time, in front of the Cien Temple:

High monks were lighting lamps and chanting scriptures, thousands of oil lamps burning brightly, dazzling like a sea of stars, creating a lively atmosphere that surpassed the daytime.

Yu Huanchen, carrying fruits, oil, and other offerings, helped his sister down from the carriage, teasing her, "Hurry and pray for a good marriage, let the Bodhisattva bless you with a perfect husband this year."

Pausing for a moment, he leaned in and whispered, "It would be best if his surname is Xue."

Thinking that his sister would blush as usual, Yu Lingxi just glanced at him, casually chuckled, and said, "First, let's pray for a good marriage for my elder brother, preferably a well-read and reasonable young lady."

Poked in a sore spot, Yu Huanchen kept quiet.

When he was eighteen, he had been arranged in a marriage by his parents following traditional customs. The girl came from a scholarly family, similar in age to Yu Lingxi, a quiet and beautiful young lady. However, Yu Huanchen, who favored straightforward women from the martial world, disliked the delicate, weeping young ladies. He was dissatisfied with the arranged marriage.

Yu Lingxi knew that in her previous life, her elder brother, using the pretext of going north, avoided the marriage. Later, she heard that the girl, unwilling to break the engagement, remained unmarried and, in a fit of rage, cut her hair and became a nun.

Yu Lingxi, in front of the enormous Buddha statue, folded her hands together and devoutly kneeled. In this lifetime, may all the regrets be fulfilled.

...

The wind swept through the sky, carrying fragments of snow that fell onto the courtyard of Yongning Lane's mansion.

In a brief moment, it covered the muddy dark red ground in front of the steps.

A splash of blood splattered on the window paper, followed by the sound of a sturdy body falling heavily. The fallen servant had a dark face, a fierce scar on his brow, the same person who had been the leader in the "Nest" when he was assassinated.

Ning Yin crouched down and retrieved a blood-stained sealed letter from the dead servant. Opening it, a hint of darkness flashed in his deep eyes: there was indeed a traitor by his side, colluding with this fool.

His five fingers clenched, and the sealed letter turned into powder, scattering from between his fingers.

Ning Yin kicked the corpse at his feet, pulled a piece of iron pendant from his neck, and examined it in the light for a moment. Then, he took the ten or so identical iron pendants from his waist and combined them with the one just obtained.

On the doorstep lay a fat man covered in blood, his limbs twisted in a strange posture.

Just fifteen minutes ago, he was mocking Ning Yin for seeking death. Now, he lay in a pool of blood, unable to shout or move, his limbs twisted and broken.

All the bodyguards in the mansion were killed by this young man!

Ning Changrui's eyes were filled with fear and resentment as he watched the black-clad youth carrying the blood-stained iron pendant, walking gracefully towards him, and then bending down.

"All thirteen people you sent to kill me are here."

The bloodstains at the corner of Ning Yin's eyebrows gave a cold and ruthless touch to his appearance. His fair face gained a touch of radiance. He loosened his slender fingers, letting the thirteen iron pendants fall in front of Ning Changrui, smiling innocently, "Can you count them?"

Ning Changrui's plump figure trembled violently, and he spat out blood bubbles from his mouth.

"You... Are you pretending? Why..."

Ning Yin casually wiped the blood off his hands and continued, "Why would someone with my skills be so miserably beaten by you earlier?"

As if recalling something pleasant, he smiled, "Not hiding my true strength, using myself as bait, how else could I catch all of you big fish in one net? Fishing requires patience, you know."

Ning Changrui widened his eyes, and everything suddenly made sense.

The seemingly weak prey turned out to be the most cunning hunter.

"No, it wasn't me..." Ning Changrui struggled to utter a few broken words, desperately explaining.

"Of course, I know you're not the mastermind. Someone as foolish as you, like a dumb pig, only deserves to be used as a tool by others."

Ning Yin walked to the ancient blood-stained zither, his slender fingers brushed over the strings, and he played a few notes casually. "But what does it matter? Tonight, I just wanted to kill you."

Ning Changrui began to regret, stammering anxiously, "Since you know, spare me, I can... act like you never came..."

"Sure, cousin, answer me a question."

Ning Yin played the zither absentmindedly, smiling as he asked, "Who is that woman?"

Ning Changrui was taken aback, and with blood foam at the corner of his mouth, he mumbled, "Which... woman?"

A tremor in the tone, and the hand strumming the strings stopped.

"In the Black Market, she had a prescription that only I knew. In the Nest, she appeared just in time."

He raised an eyebrow, "Don't say it's just a coincidence."

When things go awry, there must be a conspiracy; Ning Yin never believed in such coincidences.

Moreover, everyone wanted him dead, who would save him without a reason?

"I don't know who... who you're talking about..."

Seeing Ning Yin's cold gaze, Ning Changrui, trembling with his fat, sobbed, "I didn't lie to you! I really... really don't know!"

Could her appearance really be an accident?

Impossible, he had never shared the Nine Abyss Fragrance's secret recipe with anyone.

He shook his head to clear his mind.

However, he didn't anticipate that the black-robed man, originally "dead" in the pile of corpses, suddenly opened his eyes, leaped up, and swung a wolf-tooth iron hammer at Ning Yin fiercely!

Ning Yin's body sensed the killing intent subconsciously and instinctively raised his short blade to block.

With a clang, sparks flew.

Ning Yin heard a crisp sound of bones from his right wrist, followed by a sharp pain in his chest, causing the short blade to slip from his hand.

Reacting swiftly, he spun to release the force and simultaneously drew a dagger from his left hand, slashing across the dark man's neck.

The man froze, a thin bloodline appearing on his throat. He stared with wide eyes before collapsing to the ground, completely lifeless.

Beneath the corpse, thick purple-red blood flowed out, quickly staining a large area on the floor tiles.

Ning Yin shook his right hand, which had no strength, hanging limp. He observed the swollen wrist for a moment, concluding, "Tsk, dislocated."

Then, he grabbed the wrist and twisted it. With a crisp sound, the displaced bones returned to their original position.

Throughout the process, Ning Yin didn't blink, as if his hand had no sensation at all.

Bending down, he picked up the man by the back of his collar. Astonishingly, he effortlessly dragged the heavy body with just one hand, then casually threw it in front of Ning Changrui.

Seemingly dissatisfied, he touched his chin, adjusted his posture, making Ning Changrui and the lifeless corpse face each other.

Next, Ning Yin picked up the fallen short blade, placing the hilt in Ning Changrui's twisted and broken hand, making him grip it.

Ning Changrui's cloudy eyes were filled with fear and confusion.

But not for long. Soon, he understood Ning Yin's intention.

"The Prince of West Xichuan's manor's slaves rebelled, attempting to assassinate their lord and flee. In a duel, the slaves and the Prince of West Xichuan perished together..."

Ning Yin leisurely lifted the candlestick on the table, squatting down, and chuckled, "This is the ending I've chosen for my cousin. Are you satisfied?"

The bright candlelight illuminated his handsome yet twisted face. Ning Changrui, however, regarded him as if he were a demon, struggling to move his muddy, fat body.

But with broken limbs, he couldn't budge an inch. He couldn't even get rid of the short knife that was framed on him. 

Ning Yin admired his desperate expression. Then, amidst Ning Changrui's panicked cries, he slowly released the candlestick.

With a clatter, the flames swiftly climbed up the curtains, instantly devouring the entire ceiling. Amidst the towering flames, the scorching waves rose. Ning Yin's laughter was beautiful and distorted.

The main hall of the mansion was on fire, and Ning Changrui cried out in anguish.

But what was the use? He could only watch as the flames licked his clothes, burned his flesh, and finally engulfed him entirely. Today, the wind was strong. When someone discovered it, everything would have turned into ashes.

Ning Yin walked out of the courtyard, stretched lazily, and looked up. Fine, fluttering snowflakes began to fall.

"It's snowing."

"Snow is good; it can bury all the dirt..."

Before he could finish his sentence, Ning Yin suddenly covered his mouth and spat out a mouthful of blood. Thick crimson oozed from his pale fingers, dripping onto the snowy ground with a color more red than the towering flames behind him.

The sneak attack he endured earlier resulted in severe internal injuries, and he had reached his limit by now. His vision began to blur, and the snowflakes seemed to pour double, yet he only paused for a moment before continuing to move forward. With every few steps, fresh blood spilled from his mouth and nose.

He took a shortcut towards the direction of the Immortal City. He couldn't stay in the Immortal City any longer. For safety's sake, it had to be burned completely, burned clean...

The sound of drums echoed urgently on Yongning Lane, and the flames soared.

Military officers on horseback raced past, loudly shouting and organizing manpower to extinguish the fire.

The carriage carrying Yu Lingxi back to the mansion was stuck on the main road, unable to move.

"Where did such a large fire start?" Yu Huanchen jumped down from the carriage and asked.

Qingxiao rushed out of the crowd, panting, and said, "Young General, it's the Prince of West Xichuan's manor. The fire is spreading rapidly, and the whole street is blocked."

Tonight, the wind was strong, and if the fire wasn't brought under control, the entire Yongning Lane might be burned.

Yu Huanchen subconsciously took a step forward, then stopped and looked back at his sister inside the carriage. "Yu Sui, you..."

Seeing her older brother hesitating to speak, Yu Lingxi understood that he wouldn't stand by and watch. So, she lifted the curtain and smiled helplessly. "Brother, go and help with the firefighting. I have guards to take care of me; I can go back on my own."

Only then did Yu Huanchen mount his horse with relief and shouted, "Qingxiao, use my command token to mobilize the city guards. Exert all efforts to put out the fire!"

With a flick of the reins, he galloped towards the blazing fire.

Watching her brother's stalwart figure advancing against the snow, Yu Lingxi's heart stirred.

He was still as passionate and spirited as in the previous life.

"Miss, it's impossible to proceed in the direction of Yongning Lane. We need to take a detour through Shengping Street to return to the mansion," a guard reported while holding the restless horse outside the carriage.

Shengping Street?

Wasn't that adjacent to the Immortal City?

Suppressing thoughts about that pale and handsome face, Yu Lingxi controlled herself and said, "Then, let's go."

Shengping Street.

Ning Yin staggered, unable to sustain his injuries. He eventually collapsed into the snow-covered alley. Perhaps due to the loss of body heat, he felt no cold. Instead, he found it pleasant as he lay there. Looking up at the falling snowflakes, he marveled at their beauty and melancholy.

"Sigh..."

A passing carriage spotted him, urgently pulled the reins, and stopped. The steed let out a distressed neigh under the heavy load.

Someone carrying a lantern approached through the snow, hesitated, and shouted, "Who's blocking the road ahead?"

The faint words "Yu Mansion" could be vaguely seen on the swaying lantern of the carriage.

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