Ma Sanniang raised her head, feeling the rain run down her cheeks.
She closed her eyes, as though recalling the past.
Everything that had happened seemed vivid before her eyes, yet indistinct at the same time.
When she opened her eyes, she faced the entire underworld of the Anbei Four Garrisons.
Ma Sanniang was bound to a pillar, her gaze cold as she looked at the crowd.
Each of them held a blade as slender as a finger, in accordance with Jianghu rules.
Each would stab Ma Sanniang once, until she died.
The blades were thin, ensuring she would not die too quickly.
Over the years, the Bearfire Gang had gradually grown into a force to be reckoned with.
That was why Liu Er could stand among the crowd without the sea of people in front blocking his view.
He watched Ma Sanniang, watched this woman who looked too frail to withstand a gust of wind.
Sympathy rose in his heart.
He knew Ma Sanniang of the Spring Beauty Courtyard was a good person. He had heard all sorts of stories about her.
Once upon a time, he too had dreamed of becoming someone like Ma Sanniang.
But in a world like this, he had long since lost that kind of courage.
He remembered holding a wooden stick, imagining himself punishing evil and championing good.
Only after growing up did he feel all the more that those youthful days could be cherished but never relived.
Sympathy was one thing, but what could he do?
With some things, there was often no choice. One could only keep walking forward, step by step.
Jia Wan of the Eastern Market approached first, saying with a vicious grin,
"In the twelfth year of the old calendar, you killed twelve disciples under me, plundered my