Zhang He's Death (Part Two) [Request Moon Tickets]

Crack—

A faint, brittle sound.

The Literary Scholar beside Zhang He spat out a great mouthful of blood.

The illusion shattered with a sound, and the battlefield shrouded in smoke and flames was replaced by a wilderness strewn with wreckage. The instant Zhang He broke free of the illusion, his eyes bulged with rage and his chest heaved violently. The first thing he saw was a familiar head being severed by a scythe.

Its eyes had yet to close, filled with unwillingness.

As if saying—

[My lord, run!]

The headless Literary Scholar's corpse lay face-down on the ground, with Shen Tang standing on it. In her right hand, she gripped a huge scythe taller than a man! She had used that very scythe to behead the Literary Scholar and slice off his head! Her expression was utterly impassive.

And just then—

The hot night wind carried an even stronger stench of blood.

The scents rushed into Zhang He's nostrils one after another, triggering a reflexive spasm in his throat. At his feet, corpse after corpse lay sprawled in every direction, robbed of life. Judging from the traces of struggle left beside them, they had died with shocking abruptness.

Zhang He had escaped from One Leaf Obscures the Eye entirely because the Literary Scholar had burned his Literary Heart. Otherwise, Zhang He would have realized only at the moment of death that he had never escaped alive from start to finish. He crouched down and lifted the head, then used his sleeve to wipe the bloodstains from the face.

When he finished, he brushed a hand across the Literary Scholar's face.

A mocking laugh escaped Zhang He's throat.

"Shen Youli, you win."

It was not that he did not want to flee. He simply understood even better that he could not.