I'll hate you for the rest of my life

"Director Xue has ordered that if we encounter the Demonic Cult's Holy Maiden, we kill her on sight."

The Eastern Depot's Chief Constable slowly advanced, saber in hand.

Min Ning's pupils contracted sharply. He instinctively retreated step by step, reaching out to shield Yin Tingxue as he barred the Chief Constable's way.

Noticing this, the Chief Constable barked:

"Thousand Household Min, you have some nerve! The Director has already given his orders. Do you intend to protect the Demonic Cult's Holy Maiden?!"

As his words fell, sharp pain flared in Min Ning's shoulder, and his grip on Yin Tingxue involuntarily loosened.

Yin Tingxue watched the gleaming saber tip draw closer. Crimson blood streamed from her shoulder, and rain battered her pretty face, pale as paper. Death approached, and her gaze gradually lost focus.

The rain abruptly intensified.

"Stop..."

Min Ning advanced with his saber, trying to protect Yin Tingxue.

But the Chief Constable gave a cold laugh. Before Min Ning could reach him, he decisively raised his saber and slashed down.

The long saber cut through the air.

Clang!

The clash of metal and stone rang through the rain, like morning bells and evening drums.

Amid the dense curtain of rain, a figure in a black official's uniform stepped forward. Five slender fingers gripped a saber, its blade firmly blocking the descending weapon. The hair at his temples was soaked.

"Min Ning, you certainly made yourselves hard to find."

Neither sorrow nor joy could be discerned in the man's voice.

Min Ning froze for a moment, his blood seeming to stagnate, then retreated.

The Chief Constable stumbled back several steps and shouted:

"Who goes there?"

The man did not answer. He merely pressed the Xiang Prince's Daughter's acupoints to stop her bleeding, then silently took her hand. Breathing rapidly, she stared blankly at his figure. Her body swayed as though she might collapse at any moment.

Yin Tingxue had never imagined that this man would appear at a time like this.

"How... how is it you..."

Blood loss muddled her thoughts. Feeling that she was about to die, she actually pleaded in a miserable voice:

"Save me..."

Chen Yi scoffed and unhurriedly lifted her onto his back. Utterly drained, she crossed her hands and could only lean against his broad back.

Yin Tingxue drifted into a daze. Patches of red and black filled her vision, constantly intertwining. Her muddled, chaotic thoughts began spinning like a revolving lantern. The patches of color merged, finally becoming the boundless snow of Silver Terrace Temple.

She hated him. Although she did not know where that hatred came from, hatred was still hatred. She had always been resolute; when she hated someone, she usually hated them for a long time. And so she did not know what to say, what words could make an enemy become her savior.

"Please save me..."

The Xiang Prince's Daughter was barely breathing. For some inexplicable reason, after pleading, she actually choked out a threat:

"I remember every way you've bullied me.

If you don't save me, I'll hate you for the rest of my life. You'll be the only person I hate for the rest of my life..."

After delivering this "tough" threat, she closed her eyes and fainted, looking as though she had died.

Chen Yi felt her head tilt and settle against the back of his neck. He paid little heed to her words. They were no different from a child's "I'll never talk to you again" and could not be taken seriously. She was plainly so weak, yet so resolute that it was laughable. Even so, he could not help feeling tenderness for her.

The alley was full of potholes. Chen Yi held his saber amid the rain, the air thick with killing intent.

One, two, three...

There were twenty-one people in the alley.

The Eastern Depot men stared at his official uniform. The Chief Constable leading them had already recognized him: he was that Hundred Household from the Western Depot.

The autumn rain rode the wind and struck his face. Chen Yi took a step forward.

His foot splashed through the rainwater.

A streak of saber light swept out in a horizontal slash.

The blade tore through skin and flesh. The Chief Constable hurriedly retreated several steps, but a spray of blood still burst from his shoulder. He grunted in pain, activated the Copper Bone Art, and kept backing away.

An Eastern Depot Agent stepped forward with a shout, passed the Chief Constable, and raised his saber to strike.

Chen Yi turned his saber from right to left, his body spinning with it. The surrounding rain surged with the blade's momentum like an overturning sea as it slashed into the agent's chest. Before the man could exert himself, he fell backward, then belatedly began groaning in agony.

The tip of the Embroidered Spring Saber plunged straight down into his throat. Chen Yi ended his suffering.

In the narrow alley, Chen Yi bent forward and charged. An agent raised his saber to thrust. At the same moment, Chen Yi raised his own without any flourish and stabbed forward at the perfect distance. The man ran straight onto the blade, his body coming to an abrupt halt.

Blood spattered across the alley.

Seeing that Chen Yi had yet to pull his saber free, the Chief Constable seized the chance to circle around and slash at him from the side.

Chen Yi's gaze sharpened. His body abruptly surged with strength, twisting as he swung toward the Chief Constable with a corpse still on his blade. The corpse collided with the Chief Constable, forcing him back several steps. In his panic, he slashed at Chen Yi's arm.

Clang!

It sounded like iron striking stone.

The sleeve over Chen Yi's arm tore apart, but only a faint bloody mark appeared on his flesh.

The same Copper Bone Art!

Realizing this, the Chief Constable could not help recoiling in shock. But Chen Yi had already pulled his blade from the corpse and thrust toward a vulnerable spot.

Just then, a man rushed in without fear of death, raising his arm to block the strike. Chen Yi flicked his blade slightly upward and cut through his throat without any flourish. The agent shuddered, then crumpled, his blood splashing onto Chen Yi's face.

In just a few breaths, three men had died.

Every Eastern Depot Agent was horrified.

But the fighting still had to continue.

Several agents exchanged glances, suppressing their terror with loud shouts as they charged with raised sabers. Carrying Yin Tingxue on his back, Chen Yi delivered two backhand slashes, one horizontal and one vertical. Two agents instantly tasted blood in their throats. Amid the rain, Chen Yi pressed his hand against an agent's body.

Two more agents circled around to attack. In this narrow alley, their numerical advantage meant little. Moreover, since all the Eastern Depot men used sabers, only three could attack at once. They roared to bolster their courage.

Chen Yi's strikes were crisp and clean, without the slightest wasted movement. Before that newly mustered courage could even reach their throats, the sweeping blade cut it short.

Seeing several of his brothers perish, the Chief Constable's eyes reddened. With a great shout, he charged, saber raised-not at Chen Yi, but at Yin Tingxue on his back.

Chen Yi's gaze turned icy. He twisted around and raised his arm, forcibly blocking the heavy, powerful blow. It cut through his flesh and stopped at the bone. His face impassive, he raised his saber and slashed.

Rip.

The blade struck where neck and shoulder met the collarbone, tearing through flesh like paper. The Chief Constable's eyes widened as his head was severed through skin and bone, his eyes remaining open even in death.

Chen Yi shook his saber. Blood splashed onto the wall with the raindrops, leaving vivid trails as it slid down. He turned and looked expressionlessly at the thirteen remaining men, who were almost scared out of their wits.

The eighteenth day of the tenth month, the third year of Huanglong, Great Yu. Heavy rain.

That night, Chen Zunming, a Hundred Household of the Western Depot, killed twenty-one men.