Outside, the thunderstorm continued. Inside, Lai Luofu curled up in pain, whimpering. Soon, numerous white threads emerged from her exposed skin, intertwining to form white waves.
She was terrified. Would she die from the poison she invented? She couldn’t accept this. That person had promised her a bright future. She wanted to live, to live.
Pan Chi smiled coldly, his usually jovial face now stern. With a grim expression, he grabbed Shen Du’s collar and demanded, “Why did you include Zhu Yan in the plan?”
Caught off guard, Shen Du was pushed against the wall by Pan Chi.
“Couldn’t you catch Lai Luofu without involving Zhu Yan?!”
His anger exploded from within. Gripping Shen Du’s collar tighter, he slammed him hard against the wall, his eyes fiercer than Shen Du had ever seen.
Pan Chi was never just a domesticated dog; he was a wolf who had hidden his true nature.
Disliking being restrained, Shen Du grabbed his hand and threw him to the ground.
A loud thud echoed as Pan Chi’s back hit the floor. He used the momentum to pull Shen Du down with him.
Instinctively, Shen Du leaned forward, using Pan Chi’s hand as a pivot to stabilize himself. He stood up quickly, shaking off Pan Chi’s grip.
Pan Chi angrily propped himself up, holding his waist and grimacing. He stood in front of Shen Du, blocking his path to Zhu Yan.
The two men were at an impasse. Su Guang said something, but Pan Chi told her not to interfere, so she fell silent.
Despite writhing in pain on the ground, wanting to end her life immediately, Lai Luofu smiled smugly seeing the internal conflict. But she couldn’t laugh out loud as Jing Lin held his sword sheath in front of her eyes.
“You consider catching criminals more important than Zhu Yan. You don’t deserve her!” Pan Chi finally uttered the words he had been holding back, placing his sword at Shen Du’s neck.
These words enraged Shen Du. He moved closer along the blade, confronting Pan Chi.
Pan Chi glared back, unflinching.
The atmosphere was tense; it seemed they might fight to the death at any moment.
Pan Chi sneered, “What? You can’t admit it?”
“Shut up!”
Shen Du gripped his sword tighter, his eyes blood-red, as if he wanted to flay Pan Chi alive.
After a long moment, Shen Du closed his eyes, then opened them again. He exhaled deeply, sheathing his sword. His entire demeanor suddenly became dejected. His fingers clenched inside his sleeve as he spoke bitterly, “As long as Zhu Yan wakes up, I’ll give you a chance.”
With that, he put away his sword and said no more.
Zhu Yan’s poisoning hurt him more than anyone. The situation had been too urgent; there was no time to get Zhu Yan to safety.
Moreover, Shen Du didn’t know if the enemy would specifically target Zhu Yan if she wasn’t present. It seemed safer to keep her close where he could protect her. But he had miscalculated; he hadn’t protected her well enough.
Throwing his sword to the ground, he silently walked past Pan Chi’s angry gaze and carried Zhu Yan to the bed, offering no explanation.
Suppressing his anger, Pan Chi clenched his fists and looked at the person curled up on the ground.
Infighting was pointless now. It was more important to extract the antidote from Lai Luofu and cure Zhu Yan.
“Su Guang, how is it going?”
Su Guang shook her head, “This is the last vial.”
If the white threads didn’t recede, it meant none of these vials contained the antidote for “Breaking Cocoon Becoming Butterfly.” Zhu Yan would surely die.
Taking the last porcelain vial from Su Guang, Pan Chi crouched in front of Lai Luofu.
Her hateful gaze pierced Pan Chi as she cursed. Ignoring her, Pan Chi poured out all the pills. Lai Luofu’s eyes lit up, and she lunged forward with unexpected strength.
In a flash, Jing Lin unsheathed his sword and mercilessly cut off Lai Luofu’s hands.
“Ah!” Lai Luofu had suffered greatly today, but nothing compared to the pain of having her hands severed. Blood gushed out uncontrollably, quickly forming a small stream. In the dim lamplight, it was a ghastly sight.
Pan Chi clenched his fists, feeling a mix of relief and elation, “It seems this is the antidote.”
Lai Luofu, who had planned to snatch and swallow all the pills, saw her plan fail. She howled in denial, “No, it’s not the antidote.”
“Hehe, then it must be,” Pan Chi stood up, but Shen Du snatched the pills away. He took one and forced it into Lai Luofu’s mouth. Seeing her surprised expression momentarily forgetting her pain, Shen Du smirked,
“A reward for you.”
She wouldn’t live long anyway.
After taking the antidote, the white threads visibly receded from Lai Luofu’s body. Only then did Shen Du feel reassured. He fed the antidote to Zhu Yan, watching as the white threads quickly disappeared from her body. He couldn’t help but sigh in relief.
It was indeed the antidote.
After wiping Zhu Yan’s face clean, Shen Du coldly looked down at the person lying on the ground.
Having received the antidote, Lai Luofu’s poison was neutralized, but the physical pain intensified, becoming more acute and clear than before.
She glared viciously in the direction Shen Du was walking, “Shen Du, may you die a horrible death. May you all die horribly.”
A sword sheath struck her face. Jing Lin stood before her, “Noisy.”
Spitting to one side, Lai Luofu’s eyes filled with tears from the pain.
Her hand and foot tendons had been cut, rendering her immobile even if she wanted to move. This was the most fatal blow.
Gritting her teeth, she looked at Jing Lin standing before her, “Kill me. If you have the guts, just kill me.”
Seeing her suffering, Jing Lin snorted coldly, holding his sword as he looked at her, “Weren’t you immortal? Why are you afraid now?”
“Fool!” Her emotions suddenly spiraled out of control, and she shouted at Jing Lin, “Does being immortal mean I should be tortured to death?”
“Oh, my apologies then. It’s you who’s dying in pain, not me. I’m afraid I can’t help you with that.”
Shrugging, Jing Lin looked pleased, the corners of his mouth turning up. He had wanted Lai Luofu to die more painfully. She had harmed his Lord and Lady; hmph, a slow and painful death was fitting.
In the inner room, three people gathered around the bed, all eyes focused on Zhu Yan.
Although they had just fought, at this moment, they all wished for Zhu Yan to wake up soon.
Outside, the thunder and lightning had subsided, and the rain had lessened. The room was brightly lit, especially around Zhu Yan’s bed, which was as bright as day in the lamplight.
Under the watchful eyes, the white threads covering Zhu Yan’s skin receded one by one, all retreating towards the wound. Her skin texture reappeared. Only when the white threads had completely disappeared from the wound on her forearm did Zhu Yan wake up.
With a soft moan, Zhu Yan raised her uninjured hand to rub her eyes. Opening them in a daze, she saw three faces peering down at her. Her heart skipped a beat, and she lowered her hand, examining it closely:
“Am I cured?”
She remembered thousands of semi-transparent threads bursting from her wound, a terrifying sight before she had fainted.
Instinctively, she reached out to grab the person closest to her. Shen Du caught her hand, holding it in his, and said softly:
“I’m here.”
Beside them, Pan Chi stared intently at their clasped hands.