Gu Jinghong smiled faintly, though the expression was barely visible on his aged face. “Divine Doctor Mo said he could save my life.”
Chu Dingjiang pondered for a moment. “I’ll find a way to send you back.”
“No need.” Gu Jinghong produced a dagger from somewhere, seemingly out of thin air. “You’re currently hovering at the second level of the Transformation State. My blood can help you break through quickly. It’s something they desperately want, and I’m giving it to you.”
“You’re offering me the Dragon Guard and your heart’s blood. What do you want in return?” Chu Dingjiang asked.
Gu Jinghong replied, “If you get the chance, destroy the Yelü royal clan for me.”
Chu Dingjiang remained silent. Gu Jinghong wasn’t usually talkative, but he spoke so clearly now, suggesting he had already resigned himself to death.
“When I first met you, I knew you harbored great ambitions,” Gu Jinghong said, noticing Chu Dingjiang’s hesitation. Using his mind-reading ability, he sensed the subtle changes in Chu Dingjiang’s thoughts. He paused, his cracked lips parting slightly as despair showed on his face for the first time. “You…”
“You’ve seen through me,” Chu Dingjiang said slowly. “I’ve been considering giving up, though I’m still thinking it over.”
“Why?” Gu Jinghong murmured. “Why?”
“Because of that dark-hearted female shadow,” Chu Dingjiang smiled. “Life is short. I’m wondering whether to pursue my ambitions or retire early and return to a simple life.”
He knew An Jiu had joined the Crane Control Army to find Mei Yanran. Once she found Mei Yanran, she would likely try to leave the army, possibly settling down somewhere to herd sheep and marry. Chu Dingjiang had used countless strategies, but he didn’t want to use schemes to keep a woman by his side.
He thought that after An Jiu found Mei Yanran, he would either let her go gracefully or accompany her.
“If you have a grudge, live on and fulfill it yourself,” Chu Dingjiang said, taking the dagger from Gu Jinghong’s hand. “I enjoy getting things without effort, but I won’t take advantage of a dying man.”
Gu Jinghong lowered his eyes. “Take the blood.”
Chu Dingjiang was stunned for a moment.
Gu Jinghong, now disheartened, continued, “I’m just a broken body. Living only to watch the Yelü royal clan remain in power would be torture for my heart. At least I’ve tried… You’re the first person in this life to reach out and save me. I owe you a great debt. In the next life, I’ll repay you, even if I must be reborn as grass or a bird to do so.”
Born to serve others, struggling to survive, and choosing death for release—this was Gu Jinghong’s life.
Chu Dingjiang saw a trickle of blood escape Gu Jinghong’s lips, flowing down his cheek towards his ear. The light in his phoenix eyes focused for an instant before quickly fading. An assassin knew many ways to kill others and just as many ways to end their own life.
The heart’s blood had to be taken while the person was alive. If Chu Dingjiang missed the moment of death, extracting it would be useless.
He gripped the dagger in his hand, then relaxed his grip.
Chu Dingjiang’s rapid advancement to the Transformation State was due to the teachings of a predecessor. Without a solid foundation, hastily increasing his power by taking advantage of this opportunity could lead to cultivation deviation.
While Chu Dingjiang had done despicable and ruthless things before, he had always relied on his abilities to achieve his goals. Taking Gu Jinghong’s heart’s blood now felt beneath him as a man of honor.
He gently closed Gu Jinghong’s open eyes. “Rest in peace.”
Chu Dingjiang had witnessed countless brutal deaths, but Gu Jinghong’s last words had touched him.
In truth, with Gu Jinghong’s abilities, he could have continued to cause trouble for the Yelü royal clan while alive. But he had grown weary of living this way, tired of his monotonous existence.
Chu Dingjiang removed his outer robe to shroud the body and found a quiet place for burial.
Standing before the bare grave as snow slowly covered it, he said, “May you find a hint of warmth in your next life.”
One moment Gu Jinghong was there; the next, he had become smoke.
Chu Dingjiang’s figure vanished, leaving only a solitary grave in the vast snowy plain. Surrounded by endless snow, it seemed to exist outside the mortal realm.
There had been moments of color in Gu Jinghong’s life: the woman who lay in a tree reading while tending sheep, the woman who fiercely knocked off his mask, the woman who was sometimes weak and sometimes strong, the woman who berated him yet drank with him until dawn…
On a moonlit night in Bianjing.
Inside a room lit by a small lamp, An Jiu soaked in a steaming medicinal bath, her brows furrowed.
Waves of pain washed over her, numbing her body. Her consciousness wavered for a moment, and she seemed to see dappled sunlight. She lay in a tree reading, with a flock of white sheep grazing below.
Suddenly, a figure hung upside down from a branch, his ink-black hair cascading down like satin. An Jiu saw his jade-white forehead and picturesque eyes, the lower half of his face covered by a black mask. His long phoenix eyes sparkled with mirth, clearly reflecting her image.
She knocked off the man’s mask and jumped down from the tree. He followed, bending to pick up the fallen mask from the grass, his long hair sliding off his shoulders with the movement.
“We’ll meet again,” he said, and his jade-like figure dissipated into dust with a gust of wind.
An Jiu’s heart skipped a beat, and she suddenly opened her eyes.
Mo Sigui, who was about to lean in to examine her, was startled by the sudden movement. “What are you doing?!”
“I had a dream,” An Jiu said hoarsely. “About a man.”
Mo Sigui stroked his chin, his peach blossom eyes twinkling with amusement. “Spring has arrived… It’s normal. But to dream of a man while enduring such excruciating pain—that’s quite an achievement. I’m in awe.”
“I dreamed that person disappeared. He probably…” An Jiu lowered her eyes and said solemnly, “Died.”
Mo Sigui was elated. “Was it Chu Dingjiang?”
“No,” An Jiu replied.
Disappointed but intrigued, Mo Sigui said, “You have another man besides him? Well, I suppose that’s good news too.”
An Jiu glared at him. “We only met a few times. You might know him—Gu Jinghong, the Deputy Commander of Shence.”
“What?” Mo Sigui’s expression turned serious. Angrily, he said, “I went to great lengths to save him, and he dares to die just like that?!”
“It’s just a feeling. I didn’t say it was certain!” An Jiu said coldly.
Mo Sigui was still fuming. “If he dies without my permission, he’s truly ungrateful!”
“Give it a rest,” An Jiu said weakly. She had a clear feeling that Gu Jinghong was gone, though she didn’t know where this feeling came from.
Mo Sigui crossed his arms and sat in the chair in front of her. “I’ve purposely positioned myself here so that when you open your eyes, you’ll be greeted by my beautiful face. The sight should alleviate some of your pain. No need to thank me for my thoughtfulness.”
An Jiu, her body stiff, struggled to turn her face away. “Go away. My situation is difficult enough without you making it worse!”
“Tch!” Mo Sigui stood up and said irritably, “You’re just like that Gu Jinghong, ungrateful!”
Mo Sigui walked to the window. The clear sound of bells came from outside. He opened the window and gazed at the soul bells swaying in the wind, sighing wistfully, “How could he just die like that?”
Why should I be the shattered jade, crumbling to dust, trampled underfoot?
I will be an ugly tile, standing firm at the highest point, fearless of wind and rain, scorching heat and bitter cold, looking down on you all as you become the mud on the ground.
In essence, this is a story of revenge, a work by Liu Anhuaming, book number 3103042.