Li Meirong opened her eyes and was greeted by the sight of Zhou Shang, dying, impaled by one of his own arrows.
The arrow was lodged deep into his chest, right through his heart. Zhou Shang's eyes bulged alarmingly out of their sockets like pressured tulips, blood poured from his mouth and nose.
A heavy river of red trickled from where the arrow pierced through the front of his chest. He tried to speak, but could only produce a wet, gurgling sound. It was then that Li Meirong noticed his throat had been ripped out. Still hanging over her, a shower of Zhou's blood dripped down on her like hot rain. Her entire body quivered uncontrollably as she held up Zhou Shang's lifeless body. Struggling, she pushed hard with her own two hands against his chest to try to prevent him from collapsing onto her.
"Help! Help me, please!" Li Meirong cried out. She had never in her life seen someone die so viciously.
Now, added to the list of firsts since transmigrating to this new body, a man was killed right on top of her, nearly crushing her with all of his dead weight. The shock was almost too great to endure. Her throat was so awfully dry from screaming and dehydration. She felt dizzy and disoriented from trauma, a struggle after another struggle. One after the other, the shock was piling up on her senses like the very weight of the dead man she was forced to prop up. Arms starting to shake, weakness began to overcome Li Meirong. Her body was burning up as if running a fever. She started praying for death just to be done with it all.
"That was to express my gratitude for capturing me at my weakest moment and selling me to taoist phonies." The words were spoken by a voice so deep, it made Li Meirong shiver.
It was a cold and striking voice, one with much intensity. From somewhere in the dark room, the killer was bidding farewell to the departed "Huntsman," Zhou Shang.
Slightly startled, Li Meirong fearfully stretched her neck around Zhou's corpse to peek at the long-limbed man to whom the voice belonged. Devastatingly beautiful was Li Meirong's first impression as she stared at the person. She let out a short gasp of wonder. The person, the killer, whom she assumed was a man despite his somewhat feminine appearance, was simply too hypnotizing. This almost felt harmful, like an evil spell from a fairy tale. The kind that would suck out your soul if you were accidentally bespelled by it.
The killer's skin looked as if it was carved from alabaster. His chiselled face was all high cheekbones and sharp angles, giving him a more masculine balance to the otherwise delicate features of his face. Long, flowing hair the color of freshly fallen snow cascaded down the front of his broad shoulders. The silvery, glistening strands were spattered with drying blood. The robes he wore were worn and ragged, but everything else about him still managed to give the unmistakable impression of an overbearing, majestic ruler.
As the killer dislodged the arrow from Zhou Shang's corpse and tossed it aside, Li Meirong found herself locking eyes with the mysterious stranger.
She couldn't believe there were really people as beautiful as this in this world.
Hazily forgetting her position, Li Meirong lost herself in the newcomer's captivating phoenix eyes. The slight upward lift at their outer corners made him look both mischievous and seductive, like a trickster. And yet, more prominent than their shape was the stunning color of his eyes; they were truly golden. A glaring metallic gold, dazzling as if they were made from the precious metal itself. The color shouldn't have been humanly possible, yet there it was staring back at her. This was a terrible time to be thinking such a thing, but this killer was quite possibly the most beautiful man Li Meirong had ever seen. He didn't seem really human, but more like a bewitching fairy.
Towering over her, he held her gaze. He was so tall that he would be a giant in comparison to her even if she were to stand. At that moment, Li Meirong came to realize that not only was his voice cold, his gaze was even colder, frightening even. Something told her that he was not one that you would want to cross paths with...
If she had to compare his demeanor at that moment to anything it would be to that of a serial murderer right before the kill.
Even though rational thought urged her to stay clear of this stranger, Li Meirong couldn't stop the smile that slowly stretched across her face. An unstoppable wave of euphoria washed over her, causing her to ignore all the warning signs of this feral creature that had just slaughtered someone right in front of her. She had been saved by this silver-haired fairy, um, man. Could it be that her transmigration would not be a tragedy, but a blessing after all?
The silver-haired man stared incredulously at the bloodied young girl foolishly smiling up at him, unable to suppress his disgusted sneer. "Girl, be quiet or speak softly. I won't hesitate to kill you as well if you screech again," he said. His voice was chilling and domineering, allowing for no argument.
The declaration was like a bucket of ice on Li Meirong's happiness. She was thankful now for the blood that coated her face and hid her furious blushing. She gulped and whispered, "I'm sorry, could you give me a moment to put my clothes on in privacy?" She grabbed the thin blanket she had been laying upon and wrapped it around herself to hide her nakedness.
The man turned around with an impatient snort. With his back turned to her, he stared at the wall. "Relax. I won't be touching you. You have my word." He sounded very sure of himself, his tone laced with loathing. He made it seem as though it would be beneath him to even consider such a notion.
Li Meirong didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Not five minutes ago she was nearly forced into having sexual intercourse, and now someone was basically insinuating that he wouldn't touch her even if she was the last girl on the planet.
Quickly grabbing up and wrapping her torn up garments around herself in a feeble attempt to look presentable, she then wiped the blood from her face with one of her sleeves. One way or another, the silver-haired man did save her, even if that fact meant he was a ruthless killer. No matter what else he said, for that she would at least thank him. She dared to hope that he might be the miracle she so desperately needed.
"Thank you so much for rescuing me. I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't acted. May I please know your name?" Li Meirong asked timidly.
The silver-haired man glanced back at her. Seeing that she was dressed, he turned back and replied, "And here I thought you were just doing your job. My name is not to be uttered by the likes of you."
'Endure,' Li Meirong silently told herself, swallowing her indignation. 'Endure.' He may be rude, but so was everyone else she had met since arriving here. She didn't need to know his name, she was just trying to be civil and express her gratitude.
Her throat and entire body felt on fire, but she continued on. "Ahem," she began, trying to clear her throat of the uncomfortable burning. "I should thank you anyway… If you are leaving, can you please take me with you? I beg of you, just help me get out of here. I would owe you a favor for life." Li Meirong knelt down on the ground and curtsied to him three times to show her sincerity.
The silver-haired man looked down upon the pitiful girl with a subtle smirk playing on his lips. He flexed his fingers, the long nails caked in Zhou Shang's blood, and appeared to consider the idea. "What could you possibly offer me?"
Li Meirong opened her mouth to respond, but the man held up his hand to prevent her from doing so. He let out a tired sigh. "Don't bother. I will take you out of here. But, we will have to spend the night in this room, with the stench of this corpse, without you making a sound. I have annoying pests hunting me down right now, and I need a place to hide for the night."
Li Meirong nodded repeatedly. "Absolutely! I'll follow your instructions, just get me out of here in the morning." She worried that she sounded too enthusiastic and tried to keep a calm exterior, as well as remain focused on the conversation. Meanwhile, her vision became more and more blurred.
The domineering man of mystery tugged at his blood crusted collar and loosened it. He exhaled deeply and said, "Why is it so hot in this tiny place?"
Unable to answer, Li Meirong shook her head. She was just as confused as he, and was wondering the very same thing. At first, she had thought she was getting sick, but now it seemed to be something in the room. With her foggy eyes, she glanced vaguely at the long, burnt-out candle in the corner.
The smoke from the extinguished flame lingered on like a frail ghost.