The maid’s anguished wails rang out like a drowning tide—thick, suffocating, and impossible to escape.
Bai Qingqing slowly reached for Ning Yan’s hand and pulled it down, inch by inch. She had to see. Only then could she truly understand how brutal the world’s cruelty could be.
The girl's face came into view, seared into Bai Qingqing’s eyes. Her pupils shrank violently. Even though Ning Yan swiftly covered her sight again, the image had already carved itself deep into her soul like a blade.
Her body reacted instinctively—she gagged, violently, unable to hold it back. She had forgotten she was still gripping Ning Yan’s hand, her fingertips digging in with unconscious force. Her reason shattered, and tears welled up uncontrollably, spilling down her cheeks.
Behind her, Ning Yan gently tried to steady her breath, but Bai Qingqing couldn’t hear anything. It was as if she could feel that girl’s despair, her pain. Her body curled in on itself like a shrimp, trembling again and again.
Ning Yan scooped her into his arms and strode swiftly back toward the carriage.
The door shut. Bai Qingqing was already sobbing so hard she could barely breathe.
“She didn’t do anything wrong. Why?” Her voice was hoarse and shaking. “She never hurt anyone! Why did this have to happen…”
Why did such horror exist? That young girl should’ve returned home in peace, waited joyfully for her husband-to-be. She should have bloomed like a flower.
“All because she took this road…”
Bai Qingqing clutched Ning Yan’s armor desperately. Her fingertips tore on the sharp edges of the metal, but she didn’t feel it. All she knew was fury—boundless, blistering rage—and a bewildered grief at the cruelty of the heavens.
“Those men deserved to die. And they did. Not a single one left. That girl, letting her maid escape even as she perished… in the end, she avenged herself.”
Ning Yan removed a shard of his own armor and placed it in her hand, letting her clutch it tight. He had seen countless corpses twisted in death, each more gruesome than the last—but for Bai Qingqing, this was too much. He held her in his arms and never let go, not even when she finally drifted into unconsciousness.
Stolen from NovelBin, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
…
Bai Qingqing stood in a haze of thick, indistinct smoke. In her ears, someone was crying—piercing, desperate. She hurried through the fog, searching for the source of the sound, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find it. All she could hear was the weeping, growing sadder, fainter…
She opened her mouth and called out, but she couldn’t hear her own voice. The white smoke seemed to have swallowed everything in the world.
Suddenly, someone lunged out of the mist in front of her, grinning grotesquely. In his hand dangled a torn scrap of fabric, and his eyes gleamed with greed and malice as he reached for her.
“…Wake up.”
Bai Qingqing’s eyes flew open, bloodshot and wild. In her blurry vision, she really did see a hand in front of her. Terror burst out of her throat in a scream.
Ning Yan realized she was trapped in a nightmare. He held her down gently but firmly, keeping her from thrashing. “It’s over. Just a dream. Open your eyes—look carefully. It’s me.”
Under his large palm, her trembling finally stilled. Bai Qingqing slowly raised her head. She was inside a room. Besides Ning Yan, Wen Jiang was also there, holding a porcelain bowl. Seeing that she was awake, he spoke in a calm, gentle tone: “Drink this first. It’s a sedative.”
It was… a dream.
Bai Qingqing finally returned to herself. But the terror of that hand reaching toward her lingered, like a shadow that refused to lift.
It had been a dream, yes—but also not a dream. The despair and agony that young girl had felt must have been a hundred, a thousand times more harrowing than her own.
Bai Qingqing stared blankly ahead. When something warm touched her lips, she blinked and looked up. Ning Yan was holding a spoon against her mouth.
“Open up,” he said.