Dan Shuang couldn’t care less about the water—her sleeves and wrists were already soaked with it. But as she rose to her feet, she inadvertently glanced up and through the open window saw Senior Sister Mei standing outside, calmly taking out a mask to put on.

The mask had a strange design, almost completely sealed, without even eye holes, and was silver-white in color.

Dan Shuang had only seen it once before.

Once when she went to find Senior Sister Mei, she saw her emerging from a compartment deep within the laboratory, removing such a mask as she walked while instructing the assistant personnel left behind in the lab: “…Remember to perform decontamination at least three times. Residual materials go into the processor—there must be no traces left, or there will be serious consequences.”

Like a thunderbolt striking overhead, a flash of white light seemed to appear before her eyes, and Dan Shuang was completely stunned.

Then her gaze fell and she saw the deep red traces seeping through Tie Ci’s five fingers pressed against her ribs.

Another thunderbolt struck Dan Shuang’s head.

His Majesty was injured!

Who in this world could still harm her!

Earlier, Master had said she would enter the palace to have a talk with His Majesty, then His Majesty was injured, and now she had suddenly left the palace…

All this happened in a split second, thoughts flashing like lightning. Only instinct drove her actions—almost the instant Dan Shuang saw Senior Sister Mei putting on the mask, her hand changed direction.

With one hand she grabbed the rolling bottle, with the other she pushed Tie Ci.

Tie Ci, still recovering from her injury and caught off guard, was pushed and tumbled off the bed. The liquid from the bottle flowed down from the table’s edge, with several drops splashing onto her clothing.

Dan Shuang drew her sword.

The snow-bright blade was dazzling. Tie Ci, who had fallen to the ground, looked up.

The people waiting outside saw this through the window and were about to rush in in alarm, but Tie Ci shouted sternly: “Don’t come in!”

With a “snip,” a piece of clothing hem fluttered to the ground.

Tie Ci braced herself with her hands to get up, reaching out to pull Dan Shuang while saying urgently: “Dan Shuang, is this…”

Before she could finish speaking, Dan Shuang suddenly flung something at her.

Caught off guard once again, Tie Ci immediately fainted.

After sprinkling the sleeping powder, Dan Shuang caught Tie Ci and carried her to the door.

Then she turned back to look at the room. The vase was still rolling around, but the liquid inside had already spilled completely—on the bed, on the table, on the floor, splattered everywhere.

She looked down at her own hands, which were not only wet from the vase’s contents but also had wounds from experiments she’d done a few days ago.

Then she called out: “Senior Sister Mei, please come in. His Majesty has questions for you.”

As she spoke, she poked her head out and gave Senior Sister Mei a meaningful look.

Senior Sister Mei was a laboratory researcher who, apart from being devoted to her research, never cared about the people and affairs of Da Qian. She only knew she had come with a mission today—once the vase was overturned, the mission was complete. At this moment, that room and the people in it were already hell and the dead. Naturally, she wouldn’t approach, standing far away and saying: “If there’s anything to discuss, Junior Sister, you should come out and talk.”

Dan Shuang held out the vase partway, saying: “There’s a question…”

When Senior Sister Mei heard “there’s a question,” professional habit immediately drove her to instinctively walk over, asking: “What question…”

Just as she reached the doorway, Dan Shuang suddenly grabbed her pulse point with one hand and yanked her violently into the room. At the same time, she tore off her mask and pressed it onto Tie Ci’s face, then threw Tie Ci outside.

In an instant, she completed the switch of pulling someone in and pushing someone out.

Tie Ci tumbled out and was caught by Jingxu, Wan Ji, and the others who were waiting outside.

Pingzong was about to leap over when Dan Shuang grabbed Senior Sister Mei by the throat and shouted: “Don’t come over! Stay back!”

Pingzong stopped and looked down at Tie Ci, saying: “What did you do to her!”

Dan Shuang ignored her and looked down at Senior Sister Mei, saying: “The antidote.”

Senior Sister Mei laughed coldly. “You really are ignorant ancients. Since you’ve been in contact with the laboratory, you should know that many things in the laboratory aren’t poison at all. If it’s not poison, where would there be an antidote?”

“What was in that vase!”

“It’s called ‘Wild Game,'” Senior Sister Mei said. “It’s the mission Master entrusted to you—to let this capital city taste some unusual wild game.”

Dan Shuang dragged Senior Sister Mei over and pressed her face down into the water on the floor. After a moment, she pulled her up: “The antidote!”

Senior Sister Mei cursed: “Lunatic! Lunatic!”

When she raised her head and met Dan Shuang’s gaze directly, meeting that bloody red stare, she was so shocked she immediately fell silent.

A fierce aura grew between Dan Shuang’s brows: “So what if I’m a lunatic? Why did Master treat me this way!”

“How did Master treat you?” Senior Sister Mei said. “You feel deceived? Didn’t you say you were willing to give up everything for Master’s ideals? Do you understand what ‘everything’ means?”

“I only know that His Majesty is above my everything!” Dan Shuang growled, desperately pressing her head into the water. “The antidote!”

Senior Sister Mei spat out the dirt in her mouth and sneered: “As I said, you ignorant ancients think this would affect me too? You pitiful creatures, how could you understand that we modern people’s bodies have already been tempered by countless vaccines and harsh environments. Our immune capabilities are far stronger than you ancient people who grew up in pure water.”

She continued: “Want me to drink the vase water for you to see? Let’s see whether you die first or I die first?”

Dan Shuang stared at her and finally understood she was telling the truth. She laughed coldly and was about to smash Senior Sister Mei’s head against the hard redwood bed frame.

“If there’s no antidote, then die!”

“Stop!”

Dan Shuang glared at her fiercely.

“What are you rushing for?” Senior Sister Mei pouted. “The specific medicine was originally prepared for you. However, we don’t have much of this stuff left either. The future world environment is harsh with scarce resources, too much has been used… So this is the only portion. Master instructed me to prepare it beforehand, so you don’t need to go crazy—you won’t die.”

She took out a small silver-white box and handed it to Dan Shuang: “See, Master treats you so well. Don’t be wishy-washy. Since you’ve chosen to follow Master, you should break with all feudal thoughts and the ruling class. We’re helping you make a choice—between Master and Tie Ci, you have to choose one…”

Dan Shuang took the small box and threw it out the window with a flick of her wrist: “Catch it!”

Pingzong outside caught it with one hand.

Inside, Senior Sister Mei looked at Dan Shuang in shock: “What are you doing! You’re already infected! This time I’m not lying to you—this really is the only portion. Even if you wanted more, you couldn’t get it in the short term… Do you know what happens when you’re infected with this thing? Do you know how contagious it is? Do you know how high the mortality rate is? Do you know it constantly changes its genetic sequence? Do you know it…”

“Pfft.”

An extremely faint sound, but it immediately ended her shock and questions.

Large amounts of pink foam poured from Senior Sister Mei’s mouth. She trembled as she looked down at her chest—a short sword had pierced through her chest, pinning her firmly to the ground.

She looked at Dan Shuang with infinite bewilderment, clearly unable to understand these ancients’ thinking even in death. But Dan Shuang didn’t even look at her, getting up to find oil lamps and lamp oil, gathering the room’s gauze curtains, scrolls, paper, and other materials together, spreading them on the floor, then pouring oil over them.

Da Qian Academy’s curriculum included infectious disease prevention education, where proper disposal—deep burial and incineration—were essential measures.

Senior Sister Mei clearly understood what Dan Shuang intended to do. After her shock, she suddenly burst into loud laughter.

“Good… good… Master said you ancients, though backward and ignorant, are often more passionate and fierce than us, fearless of death, unwavering in resolve… But I’m sorry, your sacrifice will probably only move yourself, because what was meant to happen has already happened… Remember that flock of birds I fed earlier?”

Dan Shuang spun around sharply.

“Those little birds that ate the grain scattered and flew to people’s homes. They perched on people’s heads, in garden branches, under windowsills, in grass… They appeared somewhat weak and dispirited… And you ancients who are always lamenting spring and mourning autumn, constantly chanting about heaven’s benevolence toward all living things, might very well approach to take a closer look, rescue them and build them nests… As for those poor people who have no time for romantic musings, a bird is still meat—they’d take it home to braise with wine…” Senior Sister Mei’s voice grew fainter and fainter as she murmured with closed eyes: “They’ll soon be like those birds—headaches, fever, diarrhea, coughing… large black spots appearing on their bodies, all extremities slowly falling off—fingers, toes… They’ll go to medical halls for treatment, countless people curiously gathering to watch… Their corpses will lie in courtyards while wives and children weep and cling, refusing to let go… Before long, the wives and children will lie in the same courtyards… Human lives falling like cut grass, truly a poignant and magnificent scene… Inferior races don’t need so many people—too many and they become restless. I’ll help you screen out a batch first…”

As she finally closed her eyes, she whispered softly: “…Thinking that this virus’s genes were edited by me personally, I’m actually a little excited…”

Dan Shuang stood frozen in place, hands and feet ice-cold. When she finally snapped back to awareness, she found she had doused herself with lamp oil.

The door was knocked on, and Pingzong asked from outside: “What’s wrong? What are you sneaking around doing? I’m coming in.”

“Don’t come in!”

Pingzong was startled by Dan Shuang’s hysterical shouting, smoothing down her bristling fur irritably: “What are you doing! If I’m not coming in, I’m not coming in—why shout so eerily! When His Majesty wakes up, I’ll definitely have her beat you, you dead girl!”

Dan Shuang said: “Give His Majesty the medicine I threw out just now!”

“Jingxu is examining it. Who knows what that thing is? What are you hiding in the room doing? Come out.”

“No matter what happens later, don’t let anyone approach, especially His Majesty.” Dan Shuang said, “Tell His Majesty that Senior Sister Mei has already spread the poison. Have her pay attention to the birds in the city…”

“What? What birds? What happened?”

“I… have made a grave error.” Dan Shuang looked up, swallowing down that sob, but couldn’t stop the tears that had already covered her face. “An unforgivable sin.”

She raised her head. In the sky were light clouds and bright sun, sunlight like ten thousand swords crisscrossing, piercing through earthly mists, yet in her tears it all dissolved into chaos.

The fire starter in her hand fell silently.

With a whoosh, a ball of fire leaped from the ground, instantly enveloping her entire body.

Bang! The closed window shattered, revealing Pingzong’s anxious and shocked face.

“What are you doing!” She yelled, about to rush into the room.

“Don’t come over!” Dan Shuang held her sword to her throat.

Pingzong didn’t dare move anymore, watching her covered in flames, so anxious her cheeks chattered: “You’re crazy! How am I supposed to explain this to Little Aunt!”

Jingxu, unable to figure out the small box, simply slapped Tie Ci awake: “Just wake up and decide for yourself!”

As soon as Tie Ci opened her eyes, she saw the wide-open window opposite with a person on fire inside.

This scene was so shocking that for a moment she thought she was having a nightmare.

Then she recognized who the burning figure was and stood up abruptly.

Pingzong turned back: “…She suddenly went crazy for some reason! She said something about birds spreading poison…”

Tie Ci stared intently at Dan Shuang, instructing Wan Ji without turning her head: “Quickly go give orders! Kill all birds in the city—no, kill all animals!”

Before Wan Ji could respond, she added: “The government will pay to purchase them!”

“Yes!”

“If any strange infectious disease cases appear, treat them according to the previously established infectious disease prevention laws. Even if there’s only one case, no one may be negligent. Violators need not request permission—execute them on the spot!”

“Yes!”

Wan Ji ran off frantically. Tie Ci stared at Dan Shuang: “Dan Shuang! Don’t do this! It’s not necessary! Don’t give up—listen to me this once!”

“Listen to me once—you promised to listen to me about everything!”

“Dan Shuang!”

“Don’t come over!” Dan Shuang’s voice in the fire was nearly torn apart. “Your Majesty, it’s too late! Too late!”

“I’m infected! If I live, there will be endless troubles!”

Before her words finished, Tie Ci’s figure flashed and disappeared.

But Dan Shuang reacted faster. The instant Tie Ci’s figure vanished before her eyes, she turned her wrist.

A cold light passed like a rainbow.

A blood arc fell upon the uniform red flames, disappearing instantly as the flames erupted with more intense crackling sounds.

Her black hair spread out, turning to ash in the fire instantly. That ball of flame splattered open with a whoosh, like a fire phoenix swaying in the autumn wind of the magnificent hall.

Dan Shuang’s eyes looked straight toward the sky through the flames.

There it was smooth as a mirror, as if reflecting this life and the next. There she could see herself walking alone on the streets, suddenly encountering a white, fluffy steamed bun in the cold wind, and those smiling eyes beyond the bun.

She could see the nunnery in the monk’s temple, the first glimpse of that delicate little girl before the small building.

She could see those two girls reading together in the imperial study, flying kites in the imperial garden, training through the hottest days of summer and coldest days of winter in Ruixiang Hall, running hand in hand through every inch of the palace, small shoes adorned with pearls gradually becoming light, swift boots in their racing.

She saw the young girl standing on plum blossom branches smiling at her, saw herself practicing sword beneath the tree while Chi Xue embroidered knee guards for them both inside the window. Falling petals continuously drifted down—startled loose by sword energy, and because the season had arrived.

She saw bright moon and vast sea, a small boat on the sea, herself and that tall, thin man glaring at each other on the boat.

She saw her master and that man exchanging punches and kicks amid the sea winds and waves, while she and the tall one each clung to broken ship planks, kicking at each other on the sea.

She saw inside Dongming Charity Hall the sneaky A’san and A’si, the needling confrontation between Apricot Blossom and Plum Blossom.

She saw on Ghost Island around the bonfire, the dancing figures and awkward smiling faces—who was holding whom, swaying back and forth, countless starlight spinning down into their eyes.

She saw finally in Chongming Palace, sword light splashing down like snow from the beams, that deeply pained face after the mask fell.

She saw that year when the Da Feng embassy’s grand procession came through Zheng’an Gate. She watched from atop the palace walls, and the moment she saw the Da Feng banners, she turned and descended the walls.

She saw that year on the rooftop of the inn, someone drinking alone under the moon night after night, raising cups in distant toasts.

Blue sea and azure heaven, night after night her heart.

But never to be seen again.

Never again, Mu Si.

“Dan Shuang!”

A cry pierced the heart. Through blood and fire, she saw His Majesty’s flickering figure, His Majesty reaching out as if to pull her.

Dimly in her heart she thought, please don’t—don’t get my blood on you, my blood is tainted.

Two hands appeared ghostlike behind Tie Ci. Jingxu and Pingzong, one on each side, forcibly pulled Tie Ci back.

A burst of fire and a splash of blood fell past Tie Ci’s fingertips, landing on the ground before the door, hissing as they formed a blood-red line.

One line, separating a lifetime of mutual support, separating childhood companions who regarded each other as family, separating life and death, love and hate, separating her from her.

Dan Shuang’s hands rose high—those hands still pristine white as ice crystals, untainted by blood or fire, raised toward the heavens like a graceful gesture seeking freedom and self-determination but ultimately denied.

Or perhaps a final helpless attempt to hold on.

She lived decisively, lived decisively, and died without hesitation. But who knew that the more resolute one was, the more regret remained.

A life without room for compromise, a life that ended abruptly, a life full of unwillingness.

Like tossing a handful of sand to the wind, scattered in an instant—from now on, only the wind knows her heart.

With a thunderous crash, she fell into the center of the flames that filled the room. In that final moment, her lips moved slightly.

She said, “Please don’t, Your Majesty.”

…