Her gaze was fixed on the man sprawled on the throne at the end of the hall. His golden robes were covered in dried blood, and his pale body lay unusually still.
Her hand, which held a sword drenched in blood, shook uncontrollably. She comprehended what she saw, her mind racing. The King was dead.
At that moment, men in golden armor holding spears stormed into the hall, weapons drawn and pointed at her.
A man in his thirties bitterly glanced at the body on the throne before his voice thundered, "This assassin has murdered my father, the Emperor of Yue! Arrest her!"
---
The dungeon walls were carved from cold stone, each cell barred with iron gates. Fire torches flickered along the corridor. Royal guards stood watch, spears in hand, their eyes sharp as they guarded the entrances.
Her battered body lay on the cold stone floor of one of the cells. Each torture session blurred into the next.
At that moment, a tall figure with striking features, wearing blue silk robes, walked through the corridor until he eventually stopped in front of her cell.
Meiyin, leaning on the bed with her hair covering most of her face, remained as she was, indifferent to his presence.
"Tomorrow is your execution," said the man, trying hard to sound cold. "Don't you have anything to tell me?"
Meiyin raised her eyes and faced the young man at the gate. Yue Xian. He was the son of the prince who had locked her in the dungeon. He asked what she wanted to say to him? What could she say to that naive man who had trusted her so blindly?
"You..." she said, "were a fool."
Xian's hands clenched into tight fists. Indeed, he was a fool. Because of him, she had entered the palace to meet the King, which had proven to be a grave mistake.
What did he even wish to hear from her? An apology? He was a fool. Thinking that, he turned and started to leave, every step dragging.
---
Early in the morning, the people of the Yue Empire rushed to the execution ground to witness the punishment of the infamous assassin known as the Noble Reaper.
He was a threat, having slaughtered many officials and members of the royal bloodline. Mentioning his name was a curse, especially among nobles, which was why he was called the Noble Reaper.
Their attempts to arrest him had failed countless times, but now they had barely managed to succeed—and only after he assassinated the King. His crimes were clear and unforgivable, and today was the day of his execution.
Thousands of citizens arrived, even those who couldn't bear to witness a death, eager to see his doom. Their eyes focused on the arena.
Soon, a voice announced, "His Highness is here!"
All the people rose as an elegant man in his mid-thirties, wearing golden robes with his hair pinned neatly with a golden hairpin, walked in. Maids and eunuchs followed behind him.
He arrived at the front chair, crafted with carvings of mythical beasts, and stood there watching the crowd.
It wouldn't be long until he took the throne. Now that his father was dead, everything was still in chaos.
"I hope this monster will be torn to pieces," one of the people spat.
At that moment, a woman in thin white clothes stained with dried red marks slowly walked toward the arena. She looked pitiful, with chains on her wrists and ankles, but no one pitied her.
She climbed the stairs with difficulty due to the injuries from torture until she arrived at the center, near the ugly man with a huge saber on his shoulder. Today was her last day to see the sun.
She didn't seem afraid, merely resigned. It was as if she had already accepted her fate.
A certain man opened a scroll and began to read her crimes.
As he read her crimes, she turned to the man on the throne. Meeting his eyes, he tensed. She smiled faintly before turning her gaze forward.
It didn't take long for the man to finish reading her crimes.
The executioner toyed with his sword, trying to instill fear in her, but it was futile—or so it seemed to the onlookers.
At last, the executioner raised his saber. Its sharp edge gleamed in the sunlight, allowing all to see the weapon that would sever her neck.
However, someone on the chair watched everything with clenched fists, struggling to stop himself from intervening.
Would it be better if she died? Could he bear it? He was too conflicted, unsure of what he truly wanted.
Then, in that moment, something unexpected happened, sending his eyes—and the eyes of the crowd—wide with shock.
The executioner's head was the one missing, with blood splattered on the girl kneeling on the ground, creating an eerie situation. Did she chop off his head? No, it couldn't be.
Instead, there were three arrows shot from afar, targeting his head. Someone was here to help her.
People witnessing the scene didn't think twice before jumping to their feet and fleeing.
"Protect His Highness!"
They shouted to protect the prince, but Xian, the second son, was already rushing toward the arena where Meiyin remained nonchalant, watching the people running frantically.
More horses arrived, and the riders mercilessly slaughtered the guards. Before Xian could reach Meiyin, someone else did. The man placed her on his horse, seated behind him.
"Forgive me, my lady. I was late."
She smiled and closed her eyes, gazing at the morning sun. "What a funny day."
"His Lordship can't wait to see you."
Her smile vanished, replaced by a frown. Her father was alive. She glanced back, where Xian followed them on his horse. If her father was alive, he wouldn't let Xian survive. She could already tell her allies were cornering Xian somewhere. They were now in the middle of the forest.
"Stop," she ordered.
"I won't allow you to return to that bastard—"
"Zixin, I ordered you to stop!"
At her command, Zixin halted the horse and turned to face Xian, who stopped as well, pointing three arrows at them.
"Hand her over!"
"And you think I'd listen to you?" Zixin retorted, pulling his sword and pointing it at Xian.
Meiyin jumped off the horse and walked to stand between them, facing Xian. The narrow path was flanked by a mountain rock on the left and a cliff on the right.
"Meiyin, don't try anything stupid!" Zixin warned, his hateful gaze fixed on Xian.
"I was almost deceived again. Why did I expect a monster like you could change?" Xian spat with rage.
Meiyin watched him for a moment. "You're right. A monster will always be a monster."
"He's the monster! You've done so much for him, and all he wants is your death," Zixin shouted.
"Do you think her death will satisfy me for what she's done?"
"You—"
While they argued, Meiyin moved to stand at the edge of the cliff. She thought her death would be the last thing she could leave him, if that was what he wanted. Her mission was already complete, and as she had promised herself, it was time to accept her punishment.
She didn't regret what she had done. She believed they deserved it, but she also knew she didn't deserve a good life.
Zixin and his brothers panicked. "Meiyin, don't be foolish!"
Xian flinched at Meiyin's bizarre action but hid his panic. He hated to admit it, but he didn't want her to die. Even now, his mind and heart were in turmoil, gripped by the fear of losing her.
Before he could act, Meiyin let herself fall off the cliff without a second thought, as if she had planned it all along.
"Meiyin!!" Zixin shouted, running toward the cliff, almost throwing himself off before his brothers stopped him.
Meanwhile, Xian froze, unable to believe she had actually jumped.
In the following days, the Yue Empire was about to search for Noble Reaper's body at the bottom of the cliff. To no avail.
The talk of the town was about the Noble Reaper's death and the man who had caused it: Prince Xian.
Days turned into months, the search ceased, and then years passed.