Little Pink Starfish

The Six Doors agents under the bridge were starting to panic. Their commanding officer was still up on the bridge, and no one dared to act rashly without orders. Many people looked toward the eldest woman present, searching her face for a decision.

The question at hand was simple—should they save her, or not?

From the looks of it, halting everything and calling a physician would be the wisest move. But doing so would mean throwing away the entire setup, everything they had prepared…

Which, incidentally, had been Wang Lingchao’s goal from the very beginning.

Li Zixin glanced anxiously at the woman. Normally, Six Doors could be ruthlessly pragmatic, but Hua Rongyue was one of their own. Of everyone present, he was the last one who wanted her to die. His eyes, without meaning to, carried a silent plea.

And of course, with so many eyes watching, even if they decided to save her, they couldn’t just rush in. They had to make it look good. That kind of delay could cost everything.

Wang Lingchao thought to himself, If Hua Rongyue just happens to die during this time, that’d be ideal.
Too bad the swords weren’t coated with poison—then she’d die even faster. He clicked his tongue.

The older woman finally gritted her teeth and gave the order.

“Get Dr. Zhang over here. Then send a few men up in night clothes—make it chaotic. Take the chance to pull her out. Hurry.”

As soon as she finished, Li Zixin turned and ran to change into black clothing. Behind him, Wang Lingchao scowled.

A woman… too soft-hearted. No wonder she’ll never accomplish anything great. If Hua Rongyue slips away now, this whole thing falls apart.

He didn’t join in. He was afraid that if something went wrong, suspicion might fall on him. Instead, he made a subtle gesture, and someone else in the crowd slipped away to suit up. Around a dozen figures began preparing to storm the bridge at the right moment.

—

Hua Rongyue, still on the bridge, felt like some strange switch had been flipped inside her ever since that sword had pierced her.

If she were watching herself from the outside, she probably would’ve cringed—but since it was happening to her, there was surprisingly… no pain.

Even with a sword stuck in her gut, she raised her blade and attacked Jin Butou with a lightning-fast strike.

“Stop!” Jin Butou finally couldn’t hold back. “There’s still a sword in your body!”

Watching Hua Rongyue behave as though she felt nothing, Jin Butou was suddenly reminded of someone he’d encountered long ago. That man had been raised in the Demonic Sect, in an environment so cruel it twisted his soul. By the time Jin Butou met him, he had already fallen into madness.

That time, when Jin Butou’s sword was about to pierce him, the man had rushed forward—laughing—triggering a barrage of hidden weapons that engulfed them both.

That same smile—gentle, eerie—was now on Hua Rongyue’s face.

Jin Butou began to wonder if this was still an act. But Hua Rongyue didn’t give him time to decide. Despite the blade in her body, she launched into a series of movements unlike anything anyone had seen before.

“…Huh?” People watching from the riverbank blinked in confusion. Where had this blade style come from?

It looked a bit like Tianyi Tower’s, yes—but also not quite.

Hua Rongyue slashed forward. Blood sprayed from her wound, flung by the force of her motion, painting twisting, curved streaks on the ground—like plum blossoms.

Bright red. Strangely beautiful.

Everyone watching winced, as though they could feel the pain themselves. And yet, that blood, like plum petals, only added to the haunting beauty of the scene.

As if each stroke was painted in blood.

Jin Butou’s pupils shrank. He jumped back, just in time to see several strands of his own hair float down past his eyes. That strike had barely missed.

Behind him, the surface of the river rippled—split down the center for several long seconds before the wind returned and smoothed it over again.

“…Did it really split?”

“I saw it! The water split!”

Even the most seasoned martial artists were shaken. Had that strike landed directly, Jin Butou might have been cut clean in half.

It was practically a mythological scene—something out of a strange tale. And those who understood martial arts knew what it really meant: Hua Rongyue’s internal energy had reached a terrifying level.

Because only someone with truly overwhelming qi could make water seem to stay split for that long.

This level of blade work might have originated in Tianyi Tower, but Tianyi Tower alone could not explain it. No, this went far beyond that.

Not long ago, Tianyi Tower had caused a stir by naming Yi Guzhou its successor. But right now? The mere mention of that seemed laughable.

And yet the scariest thing wasn’t the blade—it was Hua Rongyue’s attitude.

“Wait… is he even really hurt?” someone asked, voice trembling.

“He is! Look at the blood on the bridge!”

Her once-blue robe was now dotted in red.

“Then… why doesn’t he look like he’s in pain?”

Indeed—some people had noticed that “Yi Linglong” had only become faster after being stabbed. A fact no one wanted to accept.

People are supposed to slow down when they’re injured. They fear pain. They fear death.

But this “Yi Linglong” had just thrown that idea in the trash. What if—terrifyingly—he only got stronger the more he bled?

At that thought, some in the crowd felt a chill: If he survives tonight, who will dare hurt him again?

Hua Rongyue didn’t care. She sensed that Jin Butou could still fight, so she gave a cold smile—and slashed a second time.

Jin Butou dodged again.

More blood pooled on the bridge. The rippling “scar” on the river lasted even longer this time.

Everyone stared wide-eyed. The spectacle was beyond belief. This was the kind of thing you’d only see once in a lifetime.

And now—a third strike was coming.

Jin Butou had a terrible feeling: this one, he might not dodge.

It was absurd, really. Was Hua Rongyue even human?

He couldn’t retreat. Couldn’t run. Not now.

Then it came—the third strike.

And at the very last second, the blade stopped.

It hovered just one centimeter from Jin Butou’s forehead.

Hua Rongyue stood there, heaving, like a machine pushed to its limits.

The riverbank erupted in shocked cries.

Why had he stopped? Out of strength? Or… was it something else?

Only Jin Butou saw clearly—Hua Rongyue had pulled the blow on purpose. The sudden halt had even caused a backlash: a thin line of blood trickled from the corner of his mouth.

His brain scrambled to make sense of it all.

Why had Yi Linglong stopped again?

No—wait. This wasn’t Yi Linglong.

This was… Hua Rongyue.

Hua Rongyue took a shaky step back. She didn’t know if Jin Butou had stabbed her intentionally or not. But regardless, she wouldn’t let her hands be stained with blood.

Just then, a group of black-clad figures burst onto the bridge. While some clashed with Jin Butou, others pulled Hua Rongyue away.

She had no idea who they were. But once she relaxed, she realized she had no strength left.

So they carried her off.

Jin Butou was also pulled away by his own men. It wasn’t until later that he learned the full story.

And when they returned—

“Hua Rongyue? Where is she?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” said a man removing his night-mask, confused. “Wasn’t she taken by someone else in night gear…?”