"Chanjuan!"
He An lunged forward and gathered her into his arms. His hands met warm, sticky wetness, and blood gushed from her chest like a spring.
He looked down at the woman in his arms. Her exquisite face was white as paper, blood spilled from the corner of her mouth, yet she still struggled to open her eyes and look at him.
Those eyes had entered his dreams on countless nights, bright as stars, radiant as peach blossoms. Now they were like a guttering candle in the wind, dimming little by little.
He An's mind went blank with a thunderous crash.
He opened his mouth, wanting to call her name, but something seemed to block his throat. He could not force out a single word.
He could only stare fixedly at her face, at the shocking crimson at the corner of her mouth, and at the bloodstain spreading steadily across her chest.
There, his Immortal-Slaying Finger had pierced her through.
There, it should have been Han Zhan's heart.
"No... no..."
He An finally made a sound, his voice as hoarse as sandpaper scraping his throat. One hand cradled the back of her neck while the other frantically covered her wound, trying to stop the blood pouring out.
But it welled between his fingers, warm and sticky, staining her clothes red, staining his hands red, staining every color in the world red.
"Chanjuan, Chanjuan... don't move. I'll stop the bleeding... I have medicine. I'll take you to a doctor..."
He was already babbling incoherently, fumbling for the Spatial Treasure inside his robes. His fingers shook violently, sweat covered his brow, and his eyes were red as he kept muttering, "Medicine... where's the medicine... it was right here..."
"He An..."
An icy hand gently covered the back of his.
He An shuddered