“I am here for my woman,” Wang Xie said succinctly to Emperor Canglong. “Oh, your woman,” Canglong’s eyes, hidden behind his messy hair, paused on Xiaotu. “Emperor Canglong, you should know well who this throne truly belongs to,” Baihua stood before him, speaking out. “You should also know that whoever lifts my seal, I will grant their wish, and I, Canglong, always do as I please,” he said with a frivolous smile. Hearing this, Murong Youxue sweated profusely, but upon hearing Canglong’s words, she smiled victoriously. Everyone knew Emperor Canglong’s power was limitless; with his help, her throne was secure, and she could eliminate Goddess Lingying, killing two birds with one stone.
“Revive,” he uttered, and miraculously, the fallen demons came back to life, engaging in battle with the thousands of soldiers. There was no suspense; humans could not match demons. Soon, blood flowed like a river, and Murong Youxue looked to Canglong for help. Canglong acted, and waves of demon soldiers fell, but the crowd fought back, engaging in a life-and-death struggle. Xiaotu, feeling drained, leaned against the side, waves of heart-wrenching sensations overwhelming her, unable to move a finger. Seizing the moment, Murong Youxue launched a poisonous needle at Xiaotu. Seeing the needle, glowing with a golden light, heading towards her, Xiaotu was powerless, like a lamb to the slaughter. A familiar scent of flowers brushed past her nose as the needle pierced through Baihua’s chest and into the pillar. Blood spread across her moon-white robe, turning it a vivid red.
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The Weeping Blood Peony he opened was such a vivid red, so enchantingly beautiful, yet so desolate. “Girl, are you okay?” Even as he fell, his concern was still so urgent. His heart could feel the slow tearing, blood flowing bright red; those tender, affectionate eyes slowly closed, and he collapsed into her arms. The pain was real, truly excruciating; the poisoned needle pierced his heart, and the venom spread within, his heart beginning to rot…
The slaughter continued, and even Wang Xie was marked with numerous wounds, the air thick with the scent of blood. The demon army began to riot; seeing their king injured and smelling blood, their innate bloodlust awakened. She wanted to lift her hand to touch his pale face, to wipe the sweat from his forehead with a silk handkerchief. But why? Why couldn’t she move? Her Hundred Flowers, her beloved Hundred Flowers… just collapsed in her arms, dark blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, staining her plain goose-yellow dress with an alien color…
Seeing Hundred Flowers’ bloodless handsome face, and Murong Youxue’s ruthless expression, she was furious. But her body seemed frozen, unable even to cry; tears swirled in her eyes, her fingers limp at her sides. She owed him, owed him love she could never repay, and now he had given his life to her again. Was she really so weak, so selfish? No, no!
“Why.” A heart-wrenching roar broke through the barrier of her throat, full of endless anger and pain. Her once black hair turned white in an instant, silver strands mixed with a few golden ones, covering her expressionless face, where the golden cherry blossom mark appeared, and at the corners of her eyes bloomed the enchanting silver poppies. Her eyes turned blood-red, burning with flames of rage; her lips, red as if just kissed by fresh blood. Her face turned pale, devoid of color. Her cold beauty lost its tranquil elegance, replaced by an overflow of wickedness. The large pool of black blood on her chest was chilling; she seemed like a death god emerging from the deepest abyss of the demon realm.
The demon lords seemed to sense an unprecedented demonic force, stopping in their tracks, clutching their heads, whimpering. All was silent, watching in terror at this white-haired witch. “Rabbit…” Wang Xie couldn’t believe that the creature before him, exuding such extraordinary demonic energy, was the sweet, serene girl he knew. Seeing Xiaotu like this, Liu Rumeng pulled out three cherry blossom-shaped hair ornaments from her bosom, gripping them tightly, seemingly calm but trembling.
Emperor Canglong frowned at the sight before him. “Why, why did you kill him?” A voice as cold as ice came from her mouth. “I intended to kill you; he died for you. The poison needle pierced his heart, and within a moment, his heart would rot. Hahaha, there’s no cure, no remedy.” Despite her trembling body, Murong Youxue’s words were filled with deep-seated hatred. What had happened a thousand years ago to make her hate someone so much?
“I intended to kill you; he died for you. The poison needle pierced his heart, and within a moment, his heart would rot. Hahaha, there’s no cure, no remedy.” That sentence lingered in her mind, seeping into her bones. It was she who had harmed him…
“No!” Her hair flew wildly, in chaotic splendor. She broke down, tears of blood streaming down her face. A heart-wrenching scream that chilled the heart and stirred memories. Her hands flailed wildly; around her, walls collapsed, crushing many…
One sharp scream after another, a sight too gruesome to behold…
“I will kill you.” A bloodthirsty smile of eerie beauty emerged from her lips, and she actually spoke these words. Her slender fingers reached for Murong Youxue’s neck.
Chapter Forty: The Doll “Emperor Canglong, save me!” she cried in panic, truly terrified by the current Xiaotu.
“Only one wish,” he said instead of helping.
“Save me!” she screamed in terror, with Xiaotu’s slender hands inches away, seemingly about to snap her neck. In the face of the throne, life was the most important. At that moment, those hands were knocked away.
“Looking to die!” An angry roar, her hand bled from an iron nail piercing through her palm, blood flowing freely. But she seemed not to care, her face under the disheveled white hair was one of anger. The pain in her heart far exceeded the pain from the nail. Her rationality had collapsed; she became irritable, cold-blooded, wanting to kill, to slaughter all for Hundred Flowers’ revenge, to make them pay.
Wang Xie gasped, wanting to check her wound, his heart aching, but was stopped by Liu Rumeng. Xiaotu approached Emperor Canglong; their eyes met. With a wave of her sleeve, she struck at Canglong; her power had greatly increased, and this palm was formidable. He dodged quickly but seemed flustered, as her power was profound, even turning a strand of hair beside his cheek to ashes.
A fierce battle ensued; the goose-yellow and silver figures clashed, neither giving an inch. Surprisingly, Xiaotu’s power was so formidable that she matched Canglong, the force of their magic causing the surrounding houses to collapse. Wang Xie and Shui Shui, trying to help, were bounced back by a powerful barrier that had unknowingly formed, a boundary of their warring world.
Her white hair flew, cascading to her waist, each move was beautiful, her white strands brushing past her face, exuding a bewitching cold, the smile of bloodlust deepening…
Suddenly, he transformed into a giant dragon, flying into the sky. “I won’t hold it against you, stop now, or don’t blame me for being impolite,” a deep male voice sounded, with a hint of anger, coming from the dragon’s mouth. Only then did she realize that in their earlier bout, he hadn’t used his full strength. Now, back in his true form, his power must have increased.
