Jing Ji was about to speak when a gunshot suddenly tore through the silence of the forest.
The shot came from deep within the dense woods, sharp and piercing.
Jing Ji’s body tensed instantly, her gaze cutting like a blade toward the direction of the sound.
She grabbed Mu Xi’s arm fiercely, her tone commanding: “Follow me.”
Mu Xi staggered as she was pulled, her heart pounding wildly at the gunfire, her face turning pale.
Jing Ji’s attention was completely drawn by the gunshot.
She hurriedly dashed deeper into the forest.
She guessed that the other members of the Lin Jun Squad had encountered Li Xin, and a firefight had already broken out.
Who was winning or losing was still unclear, but the outcome had to be witnessed firsthand.
Mu Xi trailed closely behind Jing Ji, her small frame looking especially fragile under Jing Ji’s towering figure.
Passing by the tree where she had earlier seen the purplish-red wildflower, Mu Xi’s eyes brightened briefly as a thought surfaced.
She slowed her pace, pretending to be curious about the flower.
She bent down and cautiously brought her fingertips close to it, as if afraid of getting pricked by thorns, gently plucking the flower.
Then, softly, she called out to Jing Ji, who had walked several steps ahead: “Jing Ji.”
Jing Ji stopped, her burly frame turning around, eyes flickering with a hint of impatience.
But Mu Xi seemed oblivious to the irritation and, with an innocent expression, held out the purplish-red wildflower to Jing Ji, cooing, “Jing Ji, look, this flower is so beautiful.”
Jing Ji frowned, unable to understand why Mu Xi could be admiring wildflowers at a time like this.
She was about to scold her when Mu Xi flicked her wrist.
The purplish-red flower flew like a hidden weapon, heading straight for Jing Ji’s face.
Jing Ji’s pupils contracted sharply, her body instinctively reacting—grab it!
As an elite of the Lin Jun Squad, she possessed combat skills and reflexes far beyond normal.
A seemingly fragile wildflower was nothing to fear.
Confidently, Jing Ji raised her hand, her fingertips pinching the flying flower precisely.
The moment her fingertips touched the petals, an indescribable sting instantly spread through her whole body.
It wasn’t just a simple prick—it was a cold, decaying numbness, like countless tiny ice needles piercing flesh and blood, or the stench of a corpse seeping from a grave wrapping around her.
The poison wasn’t fierce, but it was insidious, nibbling away at her nerves bit by bit, spreading rapidly from her fingertips upward.
“Poison!”
Jing Ji immediately realized and shook her wrist hard.
The purplish-red wildflower was flung violently, tracing a strange arc in the air before landing on the pile of decayed leaves.
The petals twisted as if burned by an invisible force.
She instinctively brought her fingers to her lips, her tongue quickly licking the skin that had touched the petals.
The numbness was still spreading, but slowly, like ink soaking slowly on a rainy day—just like the feeling Mu Xi gave: sluggish, yet treacherous.
The poison was not lethal but disgusting enough.
Fortunately, Jing Ji had long been building up her toxin resistance by continuously taking medicine; otherwise, her legs would have already gone weak.
Spitting on the ground, Jing Ji’s eyes turned fierce, sharp like a poisoned blade as she stared at Mu Xi.
“You little brat, looking for death, huh!”
She was about to raise her hand to slap her.
The palm sliced through the air, but just as it was about to hit Mu Xi’s cheek, it was interrupted again by a sharp gunshot.
“Bang!”
The second shot was closer and clearer than the first, exploding somewhere at the other end of the forest, vibrating in their ears.
Jing Ji’s anger was instantly doused like being splashed with ice water, and she calmed down immediately.
She glared at Mu Xi as if to carve the girl’s face into her memory.
Then she grabbed Mu Xi’s arm again, this time with even greater force, nearly crushing her slender wrist.
“Run!”
Jing Ji shouted sharply, not bothering to reprimand Mu Xi further.
She sprinted toward the source of the gunfire.
She judged that the firefight was in full swing; the other members of the Lin Jun Squad were very likely engaged in direct combat with Li Xin.
The situation was unclear, life or death unknown.
The most important thing now was to reach the battlefield as soon as possible and confirm the circumstances.
Mu Xi was dragged along, stumbling behind.
Deeper into the forest, a strong stench of blood hit them, almost making them gag.
Before their eyes was a glaring patch of crimson, as if a whole bucket of cinnabar had been spilled, or someone had accidentally overturned an alchemy furnace, flooding the ground with heart’s blood.
Li Xin lay on her back in the center of the blood pool, her eyes wide open, hollowly staring at the gray, misty sky as if questioning the cruel heavens.
Before seeing it with her own eyes, Mu Xi could never have believed that Li Xin—who had just sworn to take her away from the Manor—could become a cold corpse.
A sharp pain gripped her chest as if a chunk of her life was being ripped out, leaving a hollow void that made even breathing difficult.
Li Xin was dead.
Truly dead.
That realization was like a dull knife, cutting Mu Xi’s heart again and again—dull pain, yet unavoidable.
She opened her mouth to say something but found her throat painfully dry, unable to utter a word.
All she could do was stare helplessly at Li Xin’s lifeless face—the eyes that were once always full of determination and love now dim and empty, like a puppet stripped of its soul.
There was so much blood, almost soaking the surrounding decayed leaves and pooling into a small puddle.
Mu Xi could even see the blood slowly spreading outward, like a deathly flower continuously blooming.
No need to get close for confirmation; one look was enough to tell that Li Xin was completely dead.
She had lost too much blood.
Even if Hua Tuo were reborn or Bian Que returned, there was no escaping the grasp of Yama.
Jing Ji scoffed a few times, breaking the suffocating silence.
“I thought Li Xin was supposed to be formidable, but turns out she’s nothing special.”
Her tone was scornful, as if commenting on a wild beast’s carcass by the roadside, completely devoid of sympathy.
Jing Ji’s gaze swept the surroundings, her brow furrowing with slight confusion.
“Strange, Li Xin is dead, but I don’t see any other squad members.”
However, this little doubt was soon dismissed by Jing Ji.
To her, Li Xin was the greatest threat.
As long as Li Xin was eliminated, everything else would be easy to handle.
As for the other members of the Lin Jun Squad—dead or alive—what did it matter to her?
Jing Ji turned her head, her eyes dark and fierce as she grabbed Mu Xi’s arm again, her nails almost digging into the flesh.
“You little brat, daring to play tricks with that poisonous flower.”
Her voice was as cold as ice shards, thick with a threatening tone.
“I’ll remember this debt. Once we’re somewhere safe, I’ll ‘educate’ you properly.”
Mu Xi’s arm throbbed painfully under Jing Ji’s grip, her face growing even paler, but she stubbornly raised her head, her eyes flashing a barely perceptible challenge.
“I’m not afraid of you.” Her voice trembled slightly, weak but still managing a final cry.
Jing Ji sneered.
She clenched Mu Xi’s wrist tightly, her nails like they were steeped in venom, eager to tear away chunks of flesh.
“Brat, don’t try any funny business,” she warned, her tone impatient.
Then the two retraced their steps.
The icy creek water reached past their ankles, feeling like countless tiny needles stabbing their skin, making Mu Xi shiver involuntarily.
The chill of the night deepened, the sound of flowing water rushing past, like a quiet mocking laugh.
She hated this cold, damp sensation—it crept from her feet all the way to her heart, like a dark omen.
Crossing the creek, before them lay an even denser, deeper forest.