In the dead of night, Xiao Yu'er's eyes snapped open. She screamed, "You lunatic! If you want to kill, kill me alone! Why must you kill my mother? Even if my mother is dead, will you kindly spare me?"
As Xiao Yu'er's voice rang out, Qingyao was startled. The child was warning her. Even if she followed Hua Wenbo's words, this sinister man would not spare her. So why sacrifice another life?
Seeing that Xiao Yu'er had ruined his plan, Hua Wenbo, enraged, reached out and slapped the back of Xiao Yu'er's head. The child's small body swayed precariously within the city walls.
Xiao Yu'er ignored Hua Wenbo completely and did not cry out in pain. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she choked out,
"Mother, you must be happy. Even if I don't get to see it, you must be happy. I will bless you."
As soon as she finished speaking, she bit down hard on the hand holding her. Although small, her grip was firm. Hua Wenbo hadn't expected this sudden turn of events, nor had Qingyao and the others behind her. Caught off guard, Hua Wenbo cried out in pain and flung his hand away. Xiao Yu'er plummeted downwards, and maternal instinct, faster than a shooting star, propelled Qingyao to rush towards where Xiao Yu'er was falling.
Hua Wenbo seized this moment and struck towards Qingyao's upper back. At the same time, Yin Xuan leaped up. The cold glint of his sword deflected the force of the palm strike, but it still hit Qingyao's back, accelerating her descent. She managed to catch Xiao Yu'er, and blood spurted from her mouth, blossoming like an eerie flower in the night.
"Mother, Mother, are you alright?"
Xiao Yu'er cried out anxiously. The mother and daughter were falling through the air. Qingyao shook her head and slowly replied, "I'm fine."
Yes, Yin Xuan's sword energy had diffused the palm's force. Although she was spitting blood, her life was not in immediate danger. She knew this very well. The wind lifted her hair, and her veil slid down, revealing half of her disfigured face. On the high wall, An Dingfeng and his men cried out in alarm, several of them immediately leaping down after them.
On the city wall, Yin Xuan's heart ached. A bloodlust surged through him. His long sword pointed forward, like lightning, like surging clouds, he lunged forward. Hua Wenbo's face darkened as he looked at Yin Xuan, a sardonic smile playing on his lips.
"Who are you? You're going against me for an ugly woman. What's so good about her?"
He finished speaking and watched as the sword, swirling with sharp sword flowers, thrust towards him. He dodged, realizing this man's martial arts were unfathomable. He was no match for him and could only hope to escape. But Yin Xuan gave him no chance. Thinking of Yao'er's suffering, his heart felt as if it had been struck by a blunt object, causing unbearable pain.
"You not only cursed her, but you also wanted to kill her. Tonight is your death day."
Yin Xuan's attacks became even more ferocious. His sword seemed infused with spiritual energy, bloodthirsty and sharp as a dragon, exuding immense power. His first move was aimed at Hua Wenbo's lower body. Hua Wenbo was greatly alarmed. He quickly shielded his lower body and retreated. For a man, to lose his lower body would be a fate worse than death. Having dodged the attack, he couldn't help but laugh arrogantly, "Tell me, in this world, how many people can truly love? I know how to cure the Ugly Face Curse. With just a drop of blood from a truly sincere person, the curse will be lifted. Conversely, if this person has even a sliver of insincerity, the curse will not only fail to be lifted, but it will also engulf their heart, causing them to die in agony."
He laughed heartily. In his opinion, true love was a mere fantasy, so that woman could only remain ugly for a lifetime.
Yin Xuan ignored his words and his stances shifted unpredictably. His long sword attacked again. He feinted, and as Hua Wenbo scrambled to defend himself, the sword tip veered sharply, heading straight for his cheek. With a single stroke, amidst the dark night, his mournful cries echoed, and he retreated rapidly, a jade-like hand covering half of his face, blood dripping down.
He, Hua Wenbo, who had always considered himself the most handsome man in Danfeng, had his beautiful appearance brutally disfigured. Not only was his face ruined, but one of his eyes was also blinded.
Even so, Yin Xuan did not intend to let him go. He lunged forward again like a hawk, determined to ensure this man met a miserable end.
Just then, An Dingfeng's voice called from below the city wall, "Marshal, Marshal?"
His voice was mournful. Yin Xuan's heart skipped a beat, his attention diverted. Hua Wenbo seized this opportunity and swiftly slipped away. Yin Xuan gazed into the darkness, no longer able to concern himself with the heavily wounded Hua Wenbo, and leaped down from the city wall.
In the darkness, Qingyao's eyes were tightly shut, a trace of blood at the corner of her lips. Coupled with the red blotches on her face, she looked even more hideous. However, Yin Xuan couldn't see the ugly marks on her face; he only felt the pain of her suffering. He stepped forward and lifted her into his arms.
"Let's go back to the city. She'll be fine. She only has internal injuries, and I will heal her."
He leaped up like a roc, his black cloak like a vast expanse of dark clouds, obscuring all light. By the time everyone reacted, he had vanished.
They all got up and looked below the city gate. A gruesome sight greeted them: corpses piled high, with some unextinguished embers flickering gently in the wind.
Although they had won this battle, the thought of their Marshal being severely injured and the uncertainty of what would happen next weighed heavily on everyone's hearts...
In the back quarters of the Chen Tang Pass military camp, in Qingyao's room, Yin Xuan was channeling his inner strength to heal her. Qingyao's internal injuries were not life-threatening, as his sword energy had diffused the power of the palm strike, posing no immediate danger to her life. However, seeing the suffering she had endured filled his heart with immense pain. The thought that he might have been a moment slower filled him with a chilling dread.
Qingyao's face was very pale, sweat trickling down her temples, clinging to strands of her hair. She looked weak and frail. This weakened version of her struck his heart profoundly, causing him pain.
Yin Xuan's inner strength was profound, and it flowed ceaselessly into Qingyao's body, making her feel comfortable and warm, so much so that she didn't want to open her eyes. But she knew Yin Xuan was healing her and must be very worried. To put him at ease, Qingyao weakly opened her eyes, a smile gracing her lips. She slowly said, "I'm fine. Don't worry too much."
"Mm," Yin Xuan withdrew his hand and pulled her into his embrace. His long, slender fingers gently brushed her hair away from her face, his movements soft and protective, as if she were the most precious treasure. His pupils deepened, and he slowly said, "You're tired. Rest for a while."
"Okay."
Qingyao nodded weakly and leaned against his chest, falling into a deep sleep. Vaguely, she thought that she, who had always been strong, also craved a shoulder to lean on.