Carrying a heavy scent of medicinal herbs.
Wen Yue lay simply on the stretcher borne by two men, with his attendant Chu Jiu at his side.
Hearing Wen Yue's call.
Xiang Hu paused mid-swing.
His wrist trembled, but he did not turn back.
Instead, he resolutely raised the standard-issue long saber of the Embroidered Uniform Guard.
"How dare you!"
The disheveled woman shrieked.
With one slash, the beauty's head was severed.
Blood scattered through the air.
A fine head flew skyward.
"Mother!"
The young man with bound hair and a crown roared, struggling as he lunged forward.
The stench of blood and sweetness, fury, filled his chest.
Pain, grief, and indignation exploded within his mind.
Like a volcano erupting.
His eyes brimmed with hatred.
Did he regret it?
He did.
He regretted even more that he had not acted sooner. That cripple deserved to die, and everyone who followed the cripple deserved to die too.
They all deserved death.
But Xiang Hu gave him no chance to repent.
Another slash.
The saber flashed.
It severed the second branch's young master's head.
The second young master of the Marquis Manor had his head parted from his neck, the killing intent and resentment still lingering in his eyes.
Along with the faint bewilderment of his dying moments.
His head rolled across the ground.
Like a broken watermelon.
Covered in blood and smeared with dust and grass.
A noble young master was no different from a commoner after all.
Blood dripped from the blade.
Falling to the ground.
Xiang Hu stood where he was.
He had taken his revenge.
How satisfying!
This was the fierce, unrestrained vengeance he had once sought but could never attain.
Ten thousand armored troops could not stop him from exacting his revenge.
Yet it was also tragic.
Because