After marrying a sickly and powerful official, Jiaojiao cries every day

"Do not--"

Sang Muye's eyes were red with anger, and for a moment he felt as if a huge rock was pressing down on his heart, and his throat was difficult to swallow.

"Swoosh——" a sharp arrow flew past.

Because of Yang Xuelian's sudden action, the arrow full of murderous intent only pierced through the corner of his clothes.

After all, I was a step slow.

Yang Xuelian was lying in a pool of blood, her silver hair disheveled on the ground, and the splattered blood dyed her snow-capped robe red, just like the white snow dyed red plum blossoms, tragic and majestic, yet revealing a beauty that was about to wither.

He raised his head with difficulty, his amber eyes seemed like pearls covered with dust, gray and dark, but when he looked at Feng Qiwu from afar, a faint smile of victory appeared on the corner of his mouth.

"My fate is up to me, not you..."

The voice was as ethereal as the wind, as if it would soon fade away and return, "Also, I have no regrets—"

He does not regret falling into depravity and becoming a demon, wreaking havoc on Feng Mansion, nor does he regret insisting on sending troops, only seeking the destruction of Beilang.

Everything you do should be worthy of yourself.

He has no regrets.

Feng Qiwu looked at him, his face hidden in the moonlight, only a deep and cold expression remained, nothing else. However, when his black eyes moved, he seemed to be slightly in a trance, still making it difficult to see clearly.

"He is very determined this time. He didn't use the Gu. He is really going to die." Wen Ranyan looked at Yang Xuelian who was slowly withering. The smile in his eyes had long since disappeared, and he stated in a calm voice.

Feng Qiwu said nothing, his dark eyes were silent. He did not feel any comfort in his heart as his enemy died before his eyes. Perhaps he was regretting that the arrow was a step too slow and he missed the chance to kill his enemy.

"uncle……"

Sang Muye pushed aside the heavy armor, flew over, and hugged the still bleeding Yang Xuelian in his arms, then put his hand on the side of his neck to try to stop the bleeding.

But the wound was too deep and the blood was gushing out, and nothing could stop it. Sang Muye was so panicked that his heart was beating violently and his face turned pale.

His lips trembled, and his voice was urgent and hoarse: "I will call a doctor right away, and the bleeding will be stopped soon...Uncle, you have to hold on..."

Even though his uncle really wanted to kill him just now, his uncle had taught him carefully when he was young and treated him as his own son.

He lost both his parents when he was young, and his uncle was the person closest to him, both his teacher and his father.

Even though my uncle's personality has changed drastically twenty years later, that happy and warm time cannot be faked.

Now that his closest relative is dying in front of him, he can no longer remain indifferent.

“……”Yang Xuelian knew very well that he was doing useless work.

The wound he had cut was too deep and he had lost too much blood. He no longer had the strength to speak. He just slowly and with difficulty stretched out his hand towards the full moon hanging in the sky.

The most beautiful thing was the crescent moon, whose clear light roamed freely between heaven and earth, illuminating his ghostly pale hands.

He bent his fingertips, trying to catch the ray of light, and the light flowed through his fingers.

Through the sparkling bright moon, he seemed to have returned to his youth. He and the falcon flew freely in the woods, using the sky as their roof and the ground as their bed, and fell asleep at night with the sun, moon and stars.

He used to be as naughty as Sang Muye, climbing trees in the mountains, fishing and picking fruits.

I still remember that the fruits from the century-old tree on the mountain were the sweetest, and the fish in the Baishui River were the freshest and fattest.

Suddenly, I miss their taste so much...

Yang Xuelian raised her thin lips, her eyes seemed to be filled with the light of the sun, moon and stars. In the distant memories, a smile filled the corners of her eyes. It was the purest smile.

At the moment of death, he suddenly felt his whole body light, and the weight pressing on him disappeared completely, and there were no shackles that could restrain him anymore.

He seemed completely free.

The raised hand suddenly fell down, Yang Xuelian closed his eyes with a smile, and there was no sound anymore.

"Uncle, uncle..."

Sang Muye suddenly grabbed his falling hand, but it was icy cold. He tried his best to warm the hand, but it was like thick ice in the winter and could not be warmed up no matter what.

With trembling hands, he tried to smell Yang Xuelian's breath.

After a while, his expression became desperate and sad. He could no longer hold back his tears, streaming down his face like a child.

His dearest person died.

From then on, he was alone again.

The night wind was raging, making the poplar trees outside the building rustle. The wild sound was filled with the broken sorrow of being cut into pieces, as if it was also crying for it.

A ray of moonlight fell on Sang Muye without any obstruction, and his thin and lonely figure fell. He cried for a long time, and cried so much pain that he lost consciousness. Then he stood up in despair.

The road ahead is long, and in a blink of an eye, he is the only one left carrying the burden forward.

Feng Qiwu watched coldly as the battle flag that belonged exclusively to Beilang fluttered in the wind behind him. Just like his eyes, it looked down upon and overwhelmed everything, revealing its own aura and pressure.

The death of the Miao King happened suddenly, and everyone was unable to react in time. By the time they reacted, it was already too late to reverse the situation.

Suddenly, there was a riot among the Miao army. Shining blades were raised high, and the glaring cold light was blinding. Many of them attributed the death of the Miao King to Feng Qiwu.

Their eyes were bloodshot and filled with resentment.

"It was Feng Qiwu who forced the king to death—"

"It's him--"

"kill him--"

Someone roared, and it was like a stone sinking to the bottom of a lake, causing huge waves. Many people joined in, and the shouts shook the sky, as if the sky was collapsing and the earth was splitting apart.

Wen Ranyan was neither surprised nor afraid, and subconsciously turned her head to glance at Feng Qiwu.

Faced with the sudden riot, the smile on Feng Qiwu's lips became more and more obvious, and for a moment he even looked a little happy and eager to try, which was extremely crazy and terrifying.

The wind blew, his black hair flew, his red clothes fluttered, and he was filled with murderous aura, as if he could tear everything apart while talking and laughing. He was like a ghost, shocking the soul.

"Go back."

Sang Muye suddenly came back to his senses, and the sound of his landing was full of majesty.

The riot came suddenly, as if there were two invisible forces pushing it. Otherwise, why would the soldiers and generals act on their own initiative?

Fortunately, he quickly got over his grief, otherwise, it would have led to an irreparable disaster.

When the soldiers heard the majestic voice, they paused for a moment, but they exploded in anger the next moment, as if they would not listen to anyone. The scene was chaotic and embarrassing for a while.

Sang Muye frowned and drew the long sword from his waist without thinking.

The long sword swept across easily, and his cold eyes were just like the long sword, ready to drink blood as soon as it was unsheathed.

"I repeat, stand down—"

"My uncle's death was just a way to repay karma. It has nothing to do with the Emperor of Beilang. If you violate this, you will be killed without mercy."

There was a sharp coldness in his words, no longer the playful smile and slick words of the past. The death of Yang Xuelian seemed to have made him grow a lot overnight.

The soldiers looked at each other, the shock in their hearts disappeared at this moment, they dropped their swords and knelt on the ground tremblingly.

"Your Majesty Beilang." Sang Muye changed the subject and looked up, his figure determined: "It was all a misunderstanding just now. My Miaojiang has no intention of hurting you. Please keep your promise and do not invade Miaojiang land."

He was indignant and resentful of Feng Qiwu's plot.

But if you think about it carefully, if it were just due to his indecisiveness, the matter would not have been resolved so cleanly, and there might have been even more casualties.

What's more, it is true that his uncle brought disaster to the Feng Mansion and brought such harm to Feng Qiwu. He has not experienced it, so what qualifications does he have to persuade others to be kind and let go of their hatred.

It's all just a cycle of cause and effect.

What he had to do was to prevent the cycle of cause and effect from repeating itself and to put an end to all hatreds at this moment.

Only in this way can one achieve transcendence.

A hundred meters away, Feng Qiwu met his eyes and said, "Of course, I have no interest in Miaojiang at all."