[Rotten-Clothes Lady] let out a long sigh, its bewilderment swallowed with it by the flashing blades on the battlefield.
"Why will you not save me from my plight?"
It questioned the void, questioned the Calamity Power that had brought it into being, questioned the humans about to lay it to rest.
If decay was its inescapable fate, then before that fate arrived, who could answer the confusion rooted in its heart from birth?
Blades tore through its long dress, and a mighty torrent descended like ten thousand devouring snakes. [Rotten-Clothes Lady] spread its arms and looked at those resolute souls with pure questioning.
"I know what the right answer is, yet I remain fixated, only because, in that incineration ground beneath the endless rain, noble souls passed away while gems of false Huacai were surrounded by admirers."
A downpour cannot wash away the decay of the spirit."
It was confused, it did not understand, and it questioned this vast universe.
"Why do you respect only silken robes and not the people wearing them? Why do you praise the lonely moon hanging high, yet bow before Huacai!"
A glint of steel came first. Without the slightest hesitation, Wei Hua brought his blade down.
The fluttering hem dissolved, and the gems turned into pitch-black rain that fell from the sky.
[Rotten-Clothes Lady] lay on its back amid the black curtain of rain, its clouded eyes open, staring stubbornly into nothingness. The patter of rain sounded like sobbing, so very like the day it had been born.
Soft footsteps sounded above its head. Gou Xiangwang crouched, raised a hand to cover those eyes, and sighed.
"Silken robes may be embroidered, but they lack the sincerity of plain hemp."
Gleaming brocade easily gathered dirt; plain hemp remained fresh through the years. Which was more