The shadowy figure was merely an insubstantial mist, condensed into human form. Even after such lengthy observation, they had failed to find any weakness.
To suddenly locate a vulnerability and attack now seemed like a fool’s errand.
Pan Chi circled behind the apparition. Wang Buzui showed no interest in him, focused solely on assassinating Shen Du.
Though he had stabbed Shen Du’s side earlier, Shen Du showed no sign of injury. This enraged Wang Buzui, who charged at Shen Du like a madman. Shen Du led him away, distancing them from Zhu Yan.
As Wang Buzui prepared to stab Shen Du again, Shen Du knocked the blade from his hand.
Disarmed, Wang Buzui froze momentarily. He reached to retrieve his weapon, but Shen Du kicked it away.
Wang Buzui glared furiously at Shen Du, intending to fight barehanded.
But as a mere phantom, he could not touch anyone, rendering him unable to attack.
Panicking, he tried to flee but found himself trapped by the Four Symbols and Eight Trigrams formation. As he turned, Pan Chi’s sword slashed through him. Though it caused no physical harm, it slowed his movements.
Once the apparition reformed, he attempted to escape again, only for another sword strike to cut him down. Shen Du noticed the previous blow had nearly struck Wang Buzui’s right chest near his heart, but he had dodged it.
A theory formed.
To test its validity, he instructed Pan Chi to slash at the apparition’s right side. The blow met empty air as Wang Buzui evaded.
He glared at the two men furiously, but inwardly he was terrified.
It seemed correct. Shen Du chuckled softly and conferred with Pan Chi: “His weakness is the right atrium. We just need to attack there.”
Though still somewhat displeased with Shen Du, Pan Chi knew his capabilities were no lie. Suppressing his misgivings, he agreed to cooperate, gripping his sword tightly as he thrust at the apparition.
Shen Du tensed, eyes gleaming as he awaited his moment.
Pan Chi feinted, withdrawing his sword just before it struck. As the apparition frantically dodged, a blade flew from Shen Du’s direction, piercing directly into his right atrium. This time the sword did not pass through, but lodged in place as the apparition flickered.
The phantom’s form wavered uncontrollably, its face contorting with the gamut of human emotions – greed, anger, joy, sorrow, fear. The visage seemed ready to burst from the strain of these seven emotions and six desires.
With another thunderclap, the apparition let out an agonized scream. Its shifting ceased as Shen Du’s sword clattered to the ground. The phantom vanished.
A solid person appeared, wearing a half-face demon mask. Gasping for breath, he clutched his right chest and turned to flee.
But Shen Du and Pan Chi seized his arms, immobilizing him.
Lai Luofu struggled desperately to break free, but they held him fast. Remembering Zhu Yan was still poisoned, a fierce light flashed in Shen Du’s eyes. He took up his scabbard and struck the man’s knees repeatedly. Half-Face Ghost lost his balance and fell to his knees. He glared up at Shen Du with murderous eyes, disgusting Shen Du. With a swift motion, Shen Du ripped off his mask.
As expected, this Half-Face Ghost was none other than Lai Luofu, who had escaped during the final battle at the city gates. He was the leader of the Fire Moth Party, the master of Guangchun Hall in Yingzhou, and the true mastermind behind Half-Face Ghost. A man of many identities, and the elder sister of Lai Luozhi.
“How pathetic. The mighty Half-Face Ghost doesn’t even dare show his true face?” Shen Du sneered.
Pan Chi mocked, “Using illusions to fake death and resurrection – aren’t you ashamed?”
Though captured, Lai Luofu continued to struggle, spewing venomous words: “Wang Buzui’s corpse was dissected by you – how could he be resurrected? But his spirit is immortal.”
Utter sophistry.
Shen Du slapped her several times. Pan Chi looked at him in surprise: “You hit women?”
Shen Du raised an eyebrow. “Is she even human?” Let alone a woman, did she even qualify as a person?
Pan Chi laughed in agreement. “Indeed. Neither male nor female, not man nor woman.” He kicked her, his expression turning solemn as he snarled, “Hand over the antidote for ‘Breaking the Cocoon’ now.”
Lai Luofu spat out a mouthful of black blood. “Never.”
Pan Chi raged, “You-!”
A pained whimper interrupted them. Both men rushed to Zhu Yan’s side.
Zhu Yan’s body shook violently, curled into a ball. She clenched her jaw against the pain, a thin sheen of sweat on her brow. Still, she refrained from crying out, not wanting to disturb their capture of the culprit.
Before Pan Chi could react, Shen Du gathered her into his arms. Feeling the familiar embrace, Zhu Yan’s furrowed brow relaxed slightly. She opened her eyes to see the one holding her and managed a faint smile.
“How is your wound?” they asked simultaneously, then both froze in surprise.
Shen Du shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, tightening his arms around her. “You’ll be alright too.”
Pan Chi glared fiercely at Shen Du, full of reproach: “If it were me, I would never leave the woman I love in danger.”
Shen Du already regretted it deeply. For once, he didn’t argue with Pan Chi’s words.
“It seems I really won’t live past three months. The Grand Commander’s wish is fulfilled,” Zhu Yan said with a bitter laugh, fighting through the pain. Her words pierced their hearts with sorrow.
Shen Du’s face hardened, regret deepening in his eyes. The final “Three Delusions” – “Once you enter the Shen household, don’t expect to live more than three months.”
It was as if he had cursed Zhu Yan’s fate today.
“Cough, cough… Don’t worry about me, quickly stop the bleeding,” Zhu Yan urged, pushing Shen Du away. He didn’t budge, his expression conflicted.
“He’s not injured. It’s just a blood pack on his abdomen,” Pan Chi said angrily. “Chicken blood mixed with lime, that’s why it looks like the bleeding won’t stop.”
Hearing this, Zhu Yan relaxed in relief. Then her eyelashes fluttered and her body went limp as she fainted in Shen Du’s arms.
Like a candle suddenly snuffed out by a hated hand.
Holding her tightly, murderous intent rose in Shen Du’s heart. He looked at Lai Luofu kneeling on the ground, handed Zhu Yan to Pan Chi, and drew his sheathed sword.
As the blade left its scabbard, a cold light flashed. Shen Du’s gaze darkened as he stared at Lai Luofu.
Feeling the killing intent wash over her, Lai Luofu shuddered, her right chest aching even more.
If she hadn’t dodged in time, causing the sword to deflect slightly, she would already be dead.
“Heh, you think being a mirror person means you can’t die?” Shen Du sneered.
The sword’s cold gleam reflected in Lai Luofu’s eyes – the light of death. She couldn’t help but feel fear and panic, but she didn’t want to show this trepidation to Shen Du.
She lowered her head, then suddenly let out a chilling laugh. The sound was grating.
The laughter grew louder, devoid of any emotion save arrogance – a contempt for all things.
The laughter cut off abruptly. Lai Luofu raised her head to look at Shen Du, the fear in her eyes well-concealed.
Their gazes met. Shen Du’s deep eyes were crimson with rage. His usual calm rationality had been consumed by anger; his eyes held no room for this person’s existence.
“Die!” he snarled.
Pan Chi shouted urgently, “Don’t kill her! The antidote is still on her person.”
If they killed her, Zhu Yan’s chances would be slim.
Shen Du drove his sword through her shoulder blade, then viciously yanked it out. “I’ll ask you one last time. Where is the antidote?”
Lai Luofu gritted her teeth, refusing to speak. Shen Du stabbed through her other shoulder. At last, Lai Luofu couldn’t endure. Her body crumpled like a leaf in the autumn wind. She lay on the ground, panting heavily and glaring hatefully at Shen Du.
“You’re asking for death!”
“Hehe,” Lai Luofu laughed without fear. “You don’t dare kill me.”