The short-haired woman didn’t have time to draw her weapon; she was ambushed from behind, a dagger stabbing into her kidney.
The pain made her arch her back.
“Ten minutes.” Mu Xi’s voice was still calm, but her fingers clenched tightly at her clothes.
This was the first time she had ever witnessed such a direct fight to the death—nothing like the one-sided executions in the dungeon.
The death caused by the Tears of Oblivion was quick and clean, but this massacre in front of her was filled with the agony of flesh and the collapse of the spirit.
Lin suddenly stood up and charged at her opponent with astonishing speed, her dagger striking like lightning.
But her injuries were too severe; her movements were still half a beat too slow.
The enemy’s weapon was already embedded in her abdomen, flicked upward, and her viscera nearly spilled out.
She fell to her knees, the light in her eyes quickly dimming.
“Miss…” Blood foamed at the corners of her mouth as she looked at Mu Xi with a gaze full of hopeless pleading, “Save…me…”
“We’re not close.” Mu Xi’s voice was light, like a feather drifting down.
“Not long ago, you tried to catch me, remember?”
Little An, standing to the side, clenched her fists so hard that her nails dug into her flesh without her even noticing.
She had never seen Mu Xi like this—so calm, so ruthless, as if she were a different person.
Could this be her true nature?
“Five minutes.” Mu Xi announced, standing up and walking to the window.
She seemed unwilling to watch the bloody spectacle, but in reality, she couldn’t let others see her trembling.
Only three remained.
They were like three wounded beasts, gasping, eyes darting between each other, searching for weakness.
One had a wounded leg, another’s arm was nearly severed, and only the last one seemed less injured because she had the best skills.
She suddenly attacked like an arrow leaving the bowstring, dodging an assault with a graceful spin, and drove her dagger precisely into her opponent’s eye.
Amidst a shrill scream, another person fell.
“Three minutes.” Mu Xi turned around, her gaze meeting those of the last two standing.
The wounded woman, dragging her crippled leg, retreated step by step, eyes filled with despair.
She suddenly pointed her dagger at her own throat and said, “Rather than be killed by you, I’d rather…”
Before she finished, her opponent lunged forward, twisting her wrist aside, and plunged the dagger into her chest.
The last female bodyguard stood up, covered in blood but smiling, as if she had victory in hand.
“One minute.” Mu Xi walked back to the bed, sat down, and folded her hands on her knees.
“You’ve won.”
The woman lying in the pool of blood coughed up a mouthful of blood and looked up.
A cunning glint flashed in her eyes as she said, “If I’m dying, you’re dying with me…”
The dagger that had been pinned beneath her suddenly stabbed into the victor’s calf.
That woman screamed and collapsed to her knees.
The dying woman used the last of her strength to pounce.
The two of them struggled and rolled into an even larger pool of blood.
“Time’s up.” Mu Xi announced calmly.
On the carpet, seven corpses lay in twisted positions, the blood gathering into a small stream that slowly flowed toward the corner of the room.
Not one person survived.
The last two female bodyguards perished together—one with her throat slit, the other with her heart pierced.
Mu Xi stood up and walked toward the pool of blood.
Her fair ankles stopped when they neared the deep red liquid.
Her gaze was complicated—part shock, part a strange sense of release.
This was the first time she truly held the power of life and death.
Though the outcome was unexpected, it was still within reason.
The Escort Team members began to efficiently clean up the mess.
Mu Xi sat on the edge of the bed, her feet dangling, silver hair falling over her shoulders.
She quietly watched everything, as if the bloody scene just now had not been orchestrated by her own hand.
“Clean everything up. Leave no traces.” The captain of the Escort Team quietly instructed the maids.
When his eyes brushed over Mu Xi, he quickly looked away, a faint trace of awe hidden within them.
The seven corpses were stuffed into black bags, dragging across the floor with a dull, scraping sound.
Bloodstains were dealt with using a special solution, the carpet was replaced, and broken objects were cleared away.
In less than half an hour, the room looked brand new, as if seven lives had never been lost here.
Only the irreparable door reminded everyone of what had just happened.
“The Seventh Floor is now under strict orders—no one is allowed near, except the master’s Escort Team.”
The captain bowed slightly to Mu Xi, a barely perceptible tremor in his tone, “Your safety is now under the highest level of protection.”
Mu Xi nodded lightly, her slender fingers unconsciously drawing circles on the sheets.
“Thank you, you may go now.” Her voice was gentle, completely different from the coldness with which she had sentenced them to death.
The last Escort Team member at the door left, heavy footsteps fading away.
The air still carried the faint scent of disinfectant, mingling with the sweet, milky perfume on Mu Xi, creating a bizarre blend.
Little An stood at the center of the room, arms hanging at her sides.
Her gaze couldn’t leave Mu Xi, curled up at the head of the bed.
That small, adorable figure who seemed to need protection actually harbored such an icy soul.
Little An’s throat tightened, her heart beating faster.
She felt her beliefs begin to waver—the pure loyalty to her master and her simple admiration for Mu Xi were both being corroded by a strange, unfamiliar emotion.
A mix of fear and excitement spread through her veins like poison.
“What are you afraid of?” Mu Xi suddenly looked up, her gaze stabbing straight into Little An’s eyes like two sharp knives.
Little An instinctively took a half-step back, swallowing hard.
“No, Young Mistress, I just… I was thinking about what happened just now.”
Mu Xi hugged her knees tighter, tilting her head as she observed Little An, trying to understand her strange reaction.
Actually, she just felt a little cold and wanted to warm herself by hugging her knees, but Little An’s gaze left her somewhat puzzled.
“The way you look at me… it’s like you’re looking at a monster.” Mu Xi pointed out bluntly, her voice carrying a hint of hurt she herself hadn’t noticed.
Little An’s face changed instantly and she hurriedly shook her head, “No, Young Mistress, I was just… shocked by your decisiveness.”
Her fingers twisted unconsciously, the pain of her nails digging into her palms keeping her alert.
Mu Xi gave a soft laugh, but there was no warmth in that laughter.
“Shocked? Or afraid? You think I’m cruel, don’t you?” She released her legs, slid gently off the edge of the bed, and stepped barefoot onto the carpet, walking toward Little An.
Each step made Little An’s heart pound faster.
That petite figure now carried an indescribable sense of oppression in her eyes, like a wolf in sheep’s clothing drawing near.
“In this place, you either kill or get killed.” Mu Xi stopped in front of Little An, lifting her head, her silver hair shimmering coldly under the light.
“I just chose the former.”
Little An’s muscles tensed, her whole body radiating alertness, yet paradoxically she wanted to draw closer to this dangerous existence.
She didn’t understand why she was drawn to this side of Mu Xi—this feeling made her ashamed yet excited.
“Would you ever betray me, Little An?” Mu Xi suddenly asked, her voice as light as a feather, yet as heavy as a mountain.
“Never!” Little An blurted out almost instinctively, her voice much louder than she expected.
“I would never betray you, Young Mistress.”
Mu Xi stared at her quietly, as if evaluating the truth of that statement.
Her gaze pierced through Little An’s disguise, reaching deep into her soul.
After a moment, she turned and walked back to the bed.
“I’ve been thinking about He Yi.” Mu Xi suddenly changed the subject, her tone becoming gentle.
“Tomorrow, I’ll go to the Garden to see her.”
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