With light footsteps and a cheerful tune under the moonlight, her unadorned face radiated a luminous smile, eyes arched gracefully, and lips curled upwards, as if nothing had transpired moments ago. Perhaps something had happened, yet she appeared utterly unaffected.
The sounds of insects and birds in the woods grew increasingly faint, while distant echoes of clattering and clinking drifted from the streets. By this hour, stalls should be closing and doors locked for the night, and through the tall buildings and tiled courtyards, the lights outside flickered like distant stars.
A slender crescent moon hovered at the end of the alley; just a turn around the corner would lead her to her destination.
As she gazed ahead, darkness enveloped her surroundings. The low wooden houses looked decrepit, and along this long street, not a single lantern illuminated the night. The houses leaned precariously, as though a gust of wind might topple them.
On the other side of the street, life was a haze of indulgence and excess, while those on her side were burdened daily by the struggle for survival. Despite the prosperity that cloaked the capital, pleasure and extravagance remained the privilege of the ruling class alone.
A night breeze rustled, with trees leaning over the low earthen walls, casting dappled shadows of fragmented moonlight on the ground. As she paused, her joyous demeanor subdued, she stood with her hands behind her back, a trace of a smile lingering on her lips.
"Now that I'm here, it's time for you to reveal yourselves," she declared, clapping her hands with a raised brow and a relaxed, contented expression, her words laced with a hint of delight. Suddenly, she crouched down and picked up a stone from the ground, tilting her body back as if to take aim at something ahead.
In the dark, the stones, of various sizes, shot forth like arrows released from a bow, piercing the night and leaving a trail of brilliance in their wake.
"Ouch!" A muffled groan shattered the stillness of the night as a cloaked figure crumpled to the ground, clutching his bleeding face. "Crying out in pain for such a minor injury?" she laughed, tilting her chin defiantly into the night.
In the sweltering summer heat, a chill breeze swept by, and in the blink of an eye, nearly ten burly figures clad in black, wielding large knives, appeared beside her, exuding a palpable aura of menace.
Raising an eyebrow, she thought, "I merely wished to enjoy a fine drink; why must it be so difficult?"
"Do you wish to kill me?"
Her senses were sharper than any beast's. These individuals moved in unison, unmistakably trained for combat. For ten years, she had secluded herself on Pear Blossom Mountain, committing no sins against anyone. In her few months of stepping into the world, she had remained dutiful. Who would go to such lengths to put her life in jeopardy?
The black-clad figures regarded her with a mix of calm and indifference. Wounding someone with a stone was no challenge, but the speed that emanated from such a youthful and delicate figure was indeed surprising, reflected in their scrutinizing gazes.
"What's the delay? Why not reveal yourselves?"
Her tone dripped with disdain, clearly provoking them.
With a cold huff, she leapt into action, her toes barely grazing the ground as she soared like a white crane, her dark hair and white attire billowing behind her as she flew over the now-standing figure, whose face still bled.
The remaining figures, sensing her movement, swung their knives, conjuring gusts of wind. Under the moonlight, the gleaming blades reflected a chilling light, their murderous intent palpable.
With each swing, the blades infused with tremendous force struck with deadly intent, creating a formidable wall of flashing steel encircling her, as relentless as a swarm, rushing toward her with fervor.
In the midst of the blade's arc, a gust of white wind whirled around her. She pivoted gracefully, stepping onto the shoulder of one black-clad assailant. Her toes pressed lightly against the back of his head, and with a subtle push, she propelled herself upwards like an explosive firework, the clashing of swords resonating like thunder, igniting sparks against the obsidian night.
The man she kicked teetered forward, his weapon raised, blood spraying forth. Under the moon's gaze, a severed arm lay sprawled on the uneven dirt path, the black-clad figure silent, as if paralyzed by fear. His severed arm began to emit wisps of smoke, and green fumes curled from his head. In an instant, his dark visage transformed from purple to green, followed by a piercing scream that pierced the night sky, collapsing into a lifeless form with wide, vacant eyes.
If that blade had struck her, even with miraculous elixirs, her life would have surely ebbed away. Such ruthless intent aimed solely at her life could only lead to one outcome—death.
With steely resolve flickering in her bright eyes, she descended swiftly, her white silhouette akin to a celestial being scattering flowers, moving so quickly that her form was barely discernible.
In a flash, she seized one of the black-clad figures by the throat. The terror reflected in his eyes mirrored her own ruthless determination. Before he hit the ground, she snatched the knife from his grasp, her white garb stained with blood.
The remaining figures, witnessing the carnage, felt a pang of fear; this seemingly benign woman was swift, merciless, and precise. In the blink of an eye, she had already claimed two lives and left one injured.
While they hesitated, consumed by trepidation, her ethereal figure appeared before them with an impossible speed. The coldness from her blade seeped into their arms, blood trickling down their black garments. Their eyes widened in horror, faces reflecting the confusion of confronting death.
"Who sent you?"
Advancing step by step towards the last two figures, she brandished her knife with intent.
Though she had already formed a hypothesis in her mind, she needed affirmation.
The duo retreated, transfixed by the sight of her—the stark white of her attire, the ebony of her hair, a visage unadorned, yet surrounded by an ominous air of death. The silver blade, already drenched in blood, glinted darkly in the moonlight, revealing an alarming hue of crimson.
Imagining that blade cutting into their flesh sent shivers down their spines.
"Thud, thud."
Suddenly, the two remaining men fell, blood gushing from their mouths as they collapsed.
"Not even Yama himself can take my life now."
She had to survive—for another's sake.
With a dismissive scoff, she discarded the bloodied knife. The wind stirred around her, her hair cascading over half her face, yet could not diminish the terrifying aura that enveloped her—like a demon from hell. The scent of blood thickened in the air, mingled with a faint, rancid odor.
As she stepped over the sprawled bodies, the chilling wind of June sent a shiver down her spine. Looking down at her bloodied attire, the earlier joviality of stealing a drink vanished. She raised her gaze to the sky; returning in such a disheveled state would surely avoid unnecessary complications.
A smile graced her lips as she maneuvered past the lifeless bodies, but a sudden wave of dizziness engulfed her. Grasping the low earthen walls for support, she shook her head vigorously, but the world around her spun violently. She attempted to summon her inner strength, yet her body felt utterly drained.
Collapsing to the ground, her consciousness blurred, and a familiar voice echoed faintly in her ears.
"Take her to the Lord's manor."