She even imagined that Yan Hui must be exhausting every last ounce of strength in a final, desperate struggle.
But in truth, the young lord of Sunset City had most likely already fallen into utter despair.
She had not experienced the power of that arrow firsthand, but she could imagine it.
When the arrowhead pierced through the space between his brows, when his consciousness gradually blurred, when his Sea of Consciousness shattered bit by bit like porcelain dropped to the ground—
What would that feel like?
She did not dare to imagine it.
The instant Yan Hui closed his eyes, he saw her amid the wind and snow.
Such a proud and outstanding man, yet at the lowest point of his life, he had shown his most wretched side to the woman he loved.
It was probably more painful than killing him.
Half-awake and half-dreaming, she seemed to see that bamboo arrow piercing through the wind and snow again—its shaft black, its fletching white, flashing through the blizzard, swift as a streak of light.
She saw Yan Hui's face twisted in agony, his Sea of Consciousness collapsing bit by bit after he was struck by the arrow.
That pain was more terrifying than being sliced into a thousand pieces. Being sliced into a thousand pieces was merely suffering of the flesh, but the collapse of the Sea of Consciousness tore apart a person's very foundation—
cultivation, memories, consciousness—all of it.
In that instant, a streak of sword qi seemed to slash across the heavens within her Sea of Consciousness!
This sword carried not the slightest imposing aura, yet it was so silent. There was no howl, no light, no warning whatsoever. It simply appeared out of thin air.
It was even more shocking—so shocking that it made one suffocate in