Silence filled the room, with no one uttering a word.
Shocked by Marquis Mo’s suicidal act, Shen Du felt bewildered. It was as if he had returned to the moment before his father’s death – a sea of blood engulfing the young boy in the crowd. At that time, he felt anger, injustice, and above all, a desire for revenge. The world was unfair, and he wanted to kill those evil people to establish a just world.
His father’s severed head opened its eyes and cursed, “Unfilial son! The world has never been fair, but justice resides in people’s hearts. Why would I force you to seek revenge?”
As consciousness returned and his mind cleared, Shen Du realized something was amiss.
His blood-stained hands were choking Zhu Yan’s neck. She was already showing signs of suffocation – her eyes bulging slightly, her nostrils flaring, and her breath weak.
“Ah!”
Suddenly regaining his senses, Shen Du released his grip and caught Zhu Yan. Cupping her face with his hands, he could barely find his voice:
“Zhu Yan, Zhu Yan…”
Before he could finish, he broke into a fit of coughing and vomiting blood, collapsing to the ground.
Marquis Mo’s death triggered him, causing him to unleash all his inner force on Zhu Yan. His qi and blood were in chaos. Fortunately, the poison in his system was weak, preventing him from strangling Zhu Yan to death.
“Zhu Yan…” Were they all destined to die here tonight?
“Cough, cough…” Zhu Yan gasped for air, coming to her senses. She frantically searched for Shen Du, only to find herself lying in his arms, both their clothes stained with blood.
On the verge of breakdown, Zhu Yan leaned in to listen. His heartbeat was faint but still there. She wept with joy, “Good, good, good.”
She had stabbed Marquis Mo and couldn’t accept it at first. Then she saw Shen Du approach and choke her neck as if he had become a different person. She couldn’t wake him, and as her consciousness faded, she thought she was going to die.
Shen Du closed his eyes and held her hand to his chest, breathing with difficulty. “I’m fine.”
He opened his eyes and looked towards Marquis Mo.
Zhu Yan followed his gaze to Marquis Mo, a wave of fear washing over her. She slowly raised her trembling hands, looking down at them with mixed emotions.
“Shen Du,” her face filled with terror and guilt, though it was too late, “He… he’s dead. I killed him.”
Marquis Mo’s eyes were wide open, but his pupils were dilated and lifeless. He had died with his eyes open.
Shen Du shook his head. He knew there was no point in excessive pity for the dead. “His world collapsed.”
So he lost the will to live.
The hand that had been gripping his shoulder finally loosened. The recent torment had left Zhu Yan looking haggard, and with the added injury, her spirit was now on the brink of collapse.
Fear crept up like the white silk on Pan Chi’s body, wrapping around her bit by bit. Zhu Yan murmured:
“I perform autopsies to uphold justice, to let the dead speak. But why did I kill?”
Her fear was so great that she even forgot to cry.
Before Shen Du could catch his breath, he saw Zhu Yan tightly gripping the autopsy knife and stabbing it toward her arm. Shen Du’s pupils dilated. Despite his body being at its limit, he struggled to move, fighting against his fading consciousness to snatch the autopsy knife from Zhu Yan’s hand and toss it aside.
His trembling hands cupped Zhu Yan’s pale face, his heart aching as if scraped by a knife.
Zhu Yan’s whole body shook violently, but gradually calmed as she felt the warmth of Shen Du’s palms.
Tears finally burst forth, washing over her already swollen eyes once again.
“What… what have I done?” Zhu Yan felt a wave of fear, clinging tightly to Shen Du.
Shen Du managed a weak smile. “You didn’t do anything.”
Zhu Yan shook her head, looking at Shen Du with a hint of sobbing in her voice. “Marquis Mo is dead. We can’t get the antidote now. You’re going to die.”
“I won’t. I’m tough. It’s not my time to die yet.”
Unwilling to see her cry, he raised his hand to wipe away her tears. Shen Du just wanted to comfort her. “I survived when my entire family was executed. Why would I fear this?”
These were mere words of comfort. The poison was even more potent than “Breaking Cocoon to Become a Butterfly.” How could Zhu Yan not know this?
She reached out to gently touch half of Shen Du’s face.
Though still very weak, he was trying to comfort her. This filled her with remorse, feeling utterly useless.
If she remained dejected, wouldn’t it hinder important matters? With this thought, Zhu Yan quickly steadied herself and carefully considered their current situation.
“Don’t worry, I won’t die just like this,” he grasped Zhu Yan’s hand touching his face, “I won’t give you the chance to remarry as a widow.”
Zhu Yan smiled knowingly, allowing Shen Du to hold her hand as she gazed at him quietly.
After a long while, Zhu Yan turned her gaze back to the body lying on the ground.
Fearing she might lose control again, Shen Du was about to cover her eyes, but Zhu Yan dodged his hand.
“No one will blame you,” he lowered his head and softened his voice near Zhu Yan’s ear, “You were only trying to save me. Anyone in that situation would have made the same choice as you.”
Zhu Yan didn’t respond, her eyes still fixed on Marquis Mo.
Life is full of unexpected storms, and fate seemed to be toying with them, presenting the worst possible scenario.
Originally, they thought the worst outcome would be his death and Marquis Mo attacking the city. But now Marquis Mo was dead, and the situation hadn’t improved.
The commotion attracted Jing Lin to investigate.
The scene before him made his heart tighten. Three people lay in a pool of blood. Not daring to think further, he drew his sword and stepped forward to protect Shen Du and Zhu Yan, pointing the sword tip at Marquis Mo.
He quickly realized something was wrong. Marquis Mo’s eyes were lifeless, devoid of any light.
“He’s dead.”
Jing Lin was shocked. After a quick check, he turned back and knelt before Shen Du: “This subordinate arrived too late. Please punish me, Grand Chancellor.”
Shen Du didn’t respond. He reached out to close Marquis Mo’s eyes, silently gazing for a while before instructing Jing Lin:
“Go find a set of clean clothes. Locate the graves of Madam Mo and their child. Bury Marquis Mo with them.” His tone was devoid of any emotion.
Jing Lin quickly found a set of clean clothes. Shen Du, with a solemn expression, personally changed Marquis Mo out of his blood-stained garments.
By the time he finished, Shen Du was drenched in sweat and completely drained of energy. He had to instruct Jing Lin to change his clothes for him.
It was already the hour of Mao (5-7 am). Jing Lin hurriedly led several imperial guards to prepare Marquis Mo’s body and transport it out of the city by cart.
Along the way, they answered any inquiries truthfully.
Soon, the citizens of Yingzhou learned that their former governor had been stabbed to death.
Watching the coffin disappear into the distance, Shen Du said self-mockingly, “Senior brother wasn’t wrong. I truly am a person who will use any means necessary.”
Even with Marquis Mo dead, he was still using him.
Zhu Yan silently took his hand, her gaze solemn. “This is for the best. The people of Yingzhou would want to bid farewell to Marquis Mo as well.”
Zhu Yan was right. Upon hearing of Marquis Mo’s death, the citizens came out to pay their respects. Some even wept bitterly, clinging to the coffin in grief.
Regardless of everything else, they had all once benefited from Marquis Mo’s care. It was Marquis Mo who had led them to transform from a barren land into a prosperous border city.
Before they could watch the entire procession, Shen Du lost consciousness again, nearly toppling over with Zhu Yan.
It took considerable effort to move him onto the bed. Zhu Yan felt a heavy weight in her heart as she silently kept vigil by the bedside, her brows furrowed, holding Shen Du’s hand.
She didn’t sleep all night. Zhu Yan’s mind drifted in and out of focus, but she didn’t dare relax for a moment. She was afraid to close her eyes, fearing she might miss Shen Du waking up.
Jing Lin arrived, but Zhu Yan didn’t notice.
Sighing, Jing Lin’s mood was also low, but discipline prevailed. After some consideration, he still stepped forward to report:
“Madam, the matter has been handled. What should we do next?”