webnovel

Sound of the Rain

Love, loyalty, and destiny: the legend of the White Snake reimagined. In a world ruled by honour and power, where demons and spirits live among humans and immortals, the snake spirit Bai Suzhen has to decide how far she will go to protect her love for the mortal physician, Xuxian--when the relentless monk Fahai is determined to separate them. *dear readers: this is my first ever webnovel and I hope to be able to finish it! do leave a comment or rating to encourage me or give me feedback!

Lanhua · แฟนตาซี
เรตติ้งไม่พอ
232 Chs

The Snake Strikes

Ah Gui howled with pain, a hoarse ragged sound, and his body jerked violently in a spasm. Qingqing's face was like stone. She watched him writhe without any change of expression, a cold, intent glint in her eyes following each of his movements.

Her lips curled back, revealing a narrow line of white teeth, as she raised her hand. The green mist swirling around the claw-like fingers glowed intensely. Ah Gui saw that and knew instinctively it was the serpent baring its fangs before it struck. And this time, she would not need to strike again.

With a great effort he gathered all his strength and heaved against the beam despite the pain that seared through his body.

Qingqing lost her balance as the beam tipped sharply and one end hit heavily onto the ground. Springing back, she managed to land on her feet, gasping, and looked up to see Ah Gui stagger to his feet, clutching the bed frame for support. He knew that with her between him and the door, there was no way he could step over that threshold alive.

In a stumbling run he made it to the window and threw open the dusty shutters. Qingqing sprang forward as he climbed clumsily onto the windowsill.

"Don't think you can escape that easily," she snarled, and her hand flashed.

He managed to get one leg over the sill before her shot hit him squarely in his back.

Qingqing had put as much energy as she could muster in that short time into the shot, and the terrapin spirit would have had to be on Suzhen's level to take it without serious damage. His face turned ashy gray, and his lips parted to utter a strangled sound.

Qingqing flung one more shot, but it flew over his head as he toppled like a stone out of the window. She ran forward and saw him plummet downwards like a deadweight, crashing through the flimsy tent of a fruit stall. There was a shower of pears and persimmons and hysterical screams from the passerbys as he hit the ground with a dull thud, people scattering away from him like water droplets from a stone tossed into a pond.

Leaning over the windowsill, Qingqing stared closely at him, frowning. He lay quite still on his side, face twisted sideways and resting on one hand, almost as if he was sleeping. Except that one leg was crumpled at an ugly angle.

There was a dark trickle of blood coming out of his mouth, staining his hand. Her blows had dealt serious internal damage that could very well kill him on their own, given his low level of cultivation. Coupled with the fall out of the window, they were almost certainly fatal.

Qingqing fell back sharply from the window as she heard someone shout, "He fell from that window, I saw him! That maiden looking out, did she push him?"

She retreated quickly beside the window out of sight, not caring to see the pointing fingers and the gaping faces that would be instantly upturned, ready to see her face, and possibly remember it. If he was dead, it would not be good to be remembered, especially as people would connect her with his death.

Discovering the body of an ordinary man in a cheap motel, who had no connections, or enough money to be memorable, would not make much stir. The officials might not even get involved. But if he had fallen so dramatically out of a window in front of so many people, and caused such a sensation in the street, it would make his death more notable. Who knew, they might even bother to investigate, to ask for witnesses, for possible suspects...

"Who asked him to climb out of the window," she snapped vexedly under her breath. "The idiot. He can't even die properly."

Her face darkened. The door man would be able to attest that she had been the last visitor to Ah Gui, if he was questioned. Perhaps she should kill him off before he could do that.

Qingqing chewed her lip meditatively. She could possible manage it if she ran down now before the commotion reached the motel, before anyone was alert to what was happening. The sleepy little man would never know what hit him. Experimentally she flexed her fingers.

She moved forward decisively, then slowed down abruptly just before she reached the threshold, frowning.

"No," she muttered to herself. "I like him. Maybe I'm overthinking things. They may not bother to investigate after all. No, the sooner I get away from here the better. They can't suspect me if they can't find me, can they?"

Satisfied with this reasoning, she nodded to herself and started again towards the door with a quick, firm step.

Barely had she crossed the threshold when she heard a commotion downstairs, and footsteps. "What happened?" a man's voice demanded loudly, and a breathy, excited woman's voice shrilled, "There's been a suicide. Or an accident. Or something. Anyway, someone fell out of the window and ruined Old Tang's fruit store. Come and see. Everyone's going to take a look!"

"From our motel?" repeated the man's voice, horrified. "Which floor did he fall from?"

The woman sounded impatient. "What does it matter? He's dead. Come and see, quick, before there are too many people!"

Qingqing waited quietly by the top of the staircase until she heard their feet run out of the doorway. Her heart was beating faster than she would have liked it to. She had not expected this to become so complicated. Back in the mountains, you killed someone because your wits were sharper than theirs or you were faster, or more powerful, and that was considered a fair fight. No one would come after you for that. Animals knew that to earn your right to live, you could not be weak. It was no one's fault but your own if you were killed.

She had killed men before too, a few times; but it had always been at night, in quiet alleys, or on deserted roads. Once because she was afraid, twice in defence, and once because they would have given her away otherwise. This was the first time, however, that she had killed in broad daylight, in such a crowded place. She had not expected that the sheer number of people would be such a problem, just their presence and their stupid goggling gaze would cause her so much trouble.

Hastily she pulled her hood over her face, and hurried noiselessly down the steps.