The executioner sharpened his blade and grabbed Wang Buzui, kicking him in the knee. Wang Buzui cried out in pain and was forced to kneel. Shen Du’s hand was already reaching for the execution token – one toss and the blade would fall.
Xiu’xiu’s gaze remained fixed on Shen Du’s hand. Just as he was about to pick up the token, she suddenly pressed her knife against Zhu Yan’s throat, immobilizing her.
“Lord Shen,” Xiu’xiu called out, holding Zhu Yan firmly.
Shen Du’s hand, which had been touching the token, suddenly withdrew.
“Xiu’xiu, you…” Zhu Yan spoke carefully, fearing that any careless movement would cause her throat to meet the blade’s edge, ending her life on the spot. “I treated you well.”
Upon closer inspection, there was no fear in Zhu Yan’s eyes, as if she had anticipated this.
Seeing the sudden turn of events, Jing Lin prepared to act but was noticed. Xiu’xiu retreated several steps with Zhu Yan, exposing themselves to everyone’s view.
She whispered in Zhu Yan’s ear: “We were never on your side. I joined Guangchun Hall long ago. That day was just an act for you all. I can’t believe you fell for it.”
With that, she suddenly laughed. The laughter pierced Zhu Yan’s ears, making her extremely uncomfortable, yet unable to break free.
The laughter abruptly stopped as Xiu’xiu looked back at Shen Du. Before she could speak, Pan Chi interrupted: “Xiu’xiu, let go! Do you know what you’re doing? You must have been bewitched. Quick, let go! Do you want blood on your hands?”
“Shut up. You should worry about yourself first,” she glared at Pan Chi, her eyes completely different from before, causing Pan Chi to frown. The person before him was nothing like the gentle Xiu’xiu from Xiuxiang Pavilion, the man’s confidante.
He seriously doubted if this was the same person who had cared for him before.
“I’ve been poisoning the soup and medicine I gave you daily. Before worrying about others, you should worry about yourself first.”
This revelation was unexpected, not within Zhu Yan’s predictions: “You poisoned him? You were searched earlier, where did you get the poison from?”
As she spoke, a flash of realization crossed Zhu Yan’s mind. She had overlooked something.
Pan Chi hadn’t anticipated this either. Since Zhu Yan had sent Xiu’xiu to him, he hadn’t been suspicious. Even his recent plea to Xiu’xiu was sincere; he truly believed she had been bewitched.
Instinctively, he circulated his qi and immediately felt changes within his body.
As soon as he circulated his energy, it dispersed. His palms became moist with a sticky sensation that wasn’t quite sweat. He opened his palm to see strange threads emerging, the source of the stickiness. He looked at Xiu’xiu in disbelief.
This seemingly shy young woman he knew daily had acted so viciously, sending chills down his spine.
Seeing the glaring threads on his hand, Zhu Yan finally realized why they seemed familiar.
They were identical to the threads that had grown on her third sister Zhu Caiwei’s skin.
Shen Du had later explained that this was the Fire Moth Party’s signature poison, called “Breaking Cocoon to Become Butterfly.”
It was laughable – moths aspiring to become butterflies.
The scornful laugh was too piercing. Xiu’xiu’s knife pressed closer, and she hissed in Zhu Yan’s ear, “What are you laughing at? One slip of my hand and you’re dead.”
But Zhu Yan didn’t answer her. Instead, as if solving a puzzle, her eyes cleared, and she looked towards Shen Du.
At the same time, Xiu’xiu also looked at Shen Du and threatened: “Lord Shen, if you release Wang Buzui, I won’t kill Zhu Yan, and I’ll give Pan Chi the antidote. Please consider carefully.”
This sudden change caught the crowd off guard. Shen Du approached, but Zhu Yan shook her head. He hesitated slightly, stopping several paces away.
“Release Wang Buzui,” Xiu’xiu’s voice trembled as she gripped Zhu Yan tightly, afraid to let go.
Still, under the executioner’s blade, Wang Buzui let out a wild laugh, looking towards Xiu’xiu as if seeing his little sister through her.
He had always said it wasn’t over, that he wouldn’t die.
“Let Zhu Yan go, or else…” Despite appearing calm, Shen Du knew he was somewhat flustered, his gaze fixed on Zhu Yan.
One slip of that blade and she would lose her life.
“Can’t Lord Shen understand my words? Release Wang Buzui and I’ll give you both the antidote and the person.”
“The antidote was given to you by someone else, wasn’t it?” Zhu Yan, who had been silent, spoke slowly. “I’m afraid it’s from your Guangchun Hall’s leader, Chen Huoe?”
Suddenly, she looked towards the crowd. The slight movement almost caused her to touch the blade, and Xiu’xiu instinctively moved the knife away a bit.
Her gaze swept through the crowd. Chen Huoe was skilled at disguise, hiding among the common people. She had no way of finding her target.
“Chen Huoe, since you’re here, why not show yourself? You provided the poison, didn’t you?” Forced by circumstances, Zhu Yan finally called out, “Since you gave the poison, won’t you appear? Aren’t you here to rescue Wang Buzui, your Guangchun Hall’s vice leader?”
Her words fell, met with long silence from the crowd, save for the murmurs of the common people.
Zhu Yan called out a few more times but to no avail.
The lack of response surprised not only Zhu Yan but also the man kneeling on the execution ground.
With a knife at his throat, still, no one came to his rescue.
He began to doubt whether the person in the prison that day truly intended to save him, or if it had all been about Mo Qianzhi from the start.
It seemed that for those above, he no longer held any value.
Realizing this, he had been searching the crowd for Chen Huoe, but to no avail. Wang Buzui could only look back towards Xiu’xiu.
Perhaps all hope was truly lost.
Shen Du secretly signaled to Jing Lin, using gestures only their guards understood. He finally realized why Zhu Yan had insisted on watching Wang Buzui’s execution – she had intended to use herself as bait.
Meeting his gaze, Zhu Yan gave him an apologetic smile. Her plan had failed; Chen Huoe, or Lai Luofu, had not appeared.
So, Wang Buzui was undoubtedly a discarded pawn.
Xiu’xiu panicked too. She had never done anything like this before. Gripping Zhu Yan’s collar tightly, knife clenched in her palm, she cried urgently:
“Release Wang Buzui, release…”
Suddenly, a flash of cold light streaked past, dazzling everyone’s eyes.
When the crowd regained their senses, a small knife had already pierced Xiu’xiu’s main artery. The hand that had been on Zhu Yan’s shoulder instantly fell.
Seeing this, Shen Du’s anxious heart finally settled, his previous tension dissipating entirely.
Before Zhu Yan could grab the falling hand, Shen Du had already flown over to pull her waist away.
A figure leaped up from below – it was Wang Buzui.
He carried Xiu’xiu to a corner of the execution ground, the most spacious area.
Xiu’xiu’s body was arranged in a strange posture, identical to the arrangement on the altar on the day of the city’s massacre. Then they saw Wang Buzui’s mouth moving constantly, though no sound could be heard.
Could this be… Zhu Yan watched the scene carefully. Wang Buzui was still attempting to resurrect Wang Xiu’xiu.
So obstinate!