Ning Yan remained silent.
How could she not know that Dong Dao had chosen a road that led to certain death?
As an Xinglin Physician, Dong Dao had no choice. Neither did Ning Yan, who had been entrusted with her lord's complete confidence. If anyone told Ning Yan that sacrificing a life could turn danger into safety, she would not hesitate. She would spare neither her own life nor anyone else's—she wanted only the result!
[The Medical School's resolve: nine deaths, no regrets.]
Miao Ne was startled by the sudden reply and put a hand on her sword hilt.
Afraid of startling the physicians in the distance, she lowered her voice and snapped, "Who's there?"
"Someone spoke? What did they say?" Though Ning Yan hadn't heard a voice, she didn't doubt Miao Ne's judgment. There was a living person nearby? Who? Could an enemy spy have slipped through the net?
Miao Ne bit her lower lip and calmed her mind, trying to discern where the voice had come from. Strangely, when she deliberately tried to recall it, she couldn't remember what she'd heard, much less which direction it came from. For a moment, she wondered if she'd imagined it...
[No need to look. I'm here.]
An apricot tree beside them was wrapped in a gentle breeze.
Apricot blossoms fluttered through the air, then in an instant turned into a hazy phantom whose face could not be made out. It wasn't just this tree—all the trees in the grove did the same. Some of the figures' shapes resembled Ning Yan and Miao Ne, while others wore clothes with strange, three-dimensional cuts.
Every indistinct figure stood a zhang tall.
Like pilgrims on a holy journey, they drifted toward the enormous apricot tree.
They became streaks of white light and sank