Ink Burns

Chapter 202 Spitting Blood but Not Dying
For the first time ever, Chang Yusu's eyes showed an emotion other than anger.

It was shock, humiliation, astonishment, and fear.
An unusual emotion lingered in him for a long time.

When he came to his senses, the emotion called "anger" once again filled his mind and body—"He Shanyue," that pig! That crazy woman!

Born into a lowly family, did she think that by clinging to Xue Xiao, that mad dog, she could rise to power?

How dare they torture him! Intimidate him! Imprison him!

They actually thought they could get away unscathed!

I don't think about it!

I don't think about it!

I don't think about it!

"Stop right there! Stop right there!" Chang Yusu shouted in a rough voice, the last syllable of his voice trembling, his anger and embarrassment obvious!

“I advise you—I advise you—” Chang Yusu’s tongue flicked out like a worm, quickly licking the corner of his lips before retracting just as worms retract their antennae. His face was contorted, and his eyes flickered wildly like candle flames trembling in the wind: “I advise you not to let me out. As soon as I step out of this dungeon, I swear, I will skin you, cut off your flesh, chop it up, wrap it in dough, and make dumplings.”

Shan Yue stood with her back to him, turned her face to the side, nodded slightly, and looked down at her left shoulder.

My left shoulder hurts terribly.

"Oh? Dumplings? People in Jiangnan don't eat dumplings much." Shan Yue chuckled softly.

The young woman, illuminated by the firelight reflecting off the rock face, had a straight nose and gentle eyes: "Yu means Central Plains, Su means Jiangnan, one character means Chang family, and the other means maternal family—do you mean that by adopting the surname Chang, you are a dignified nobleman's son?"

"You're dreaming."

Shan Yue's voice was as soft as a ripe flower stamen floating on the water: "You will always be the son of the lowly people you despise, you will always have the blood of an actor. You are not a noble scion, you are merely a product of Chang Lin's compromise—a century-old martial arts family, a battlefield clan, for power and profit, abandoned family honor and bowed down to marry a lowly actor."

Shan Yue smiled and said, "Chang Yusu, your name is evidence that your father surrendered to power—you are many times more lowly than me."

After Shan Yue finished speaking, she walked out without turning her head.

In the dim firelight of the dungeon, she paused, then gracefully turned to the side, her slender fingertips moving rhythmically like waves, as if plucking the strings of a musical instrument.

"Goodbye, little pig." The woman smiled, her eyes and brows brimming with joy.

"Ah—ah—ah—" Chang Yusu roared angrily!

He is not lowly! He is not a member of the lowest class! He is absolutely not lowly!
The Chang family is a long-established military household in central Henan. They've climbed their way up step by step to their current position, their family genealogy filled with the deaths of countless members! He is a member of the Chang family! His mother has long since retired from opera! His uncle is a highly respected imperial son-in-law! He is not a lowly person! He is not!
He still remembers why he killed someone in the street for the first time!
As the lowly eighth-rank official helped him onto his horse, he flattered him: "In the past, I only heard of Young Master Chang's immense strength in the martial world, and I thought he was a reckless hero of great righteousness. Today, having met you in person, I realize that you have a refined demeanor, a clear and noble voice, and are indeed a esteemed young master from a distinguished family."

"What did you say about me?" he asked.

The minor official was taken aback: "Young master from a prominent family."

“The previous sentence,” he said.

"A crisp sound and a precious price—"

Before the clerk could finish speaking, he was kicked in the chest by a horse's hoof. Two sharp ribs pierced his chest and protruded from the middle of his eighth-rank official robes. The clerk didn't even have time to shut his mouth before he died. His eyes were wide open like a pair of exploding lanterns, and he fell backward with a "bang".

He cracked his whip, and the prized Ferghana horse, head held high, trampled over the clerk's head.

His skull was fractured, and white brain matter mixed with bright red blood stained a long street. Everyone said that it was he who had galloped too fast, causing the minor official's unwarranted injury and death.

He knew in his heart why he wanted this minor official dead!
Sound, sound, sound!

His voice is just like his mother, Zhou Shi!

It's so brittle, so very hard to hear. Like a theatrical performance! He drinks vinegar, scalds himself with hot water, eats spicy food, and even burns his throat with red-hot sand, all to ruin his voice! To make it hoarse and awful!
This petty official actually dared to comment on his voice!

Did this minor official know something?
Is it implying something?
Is this a sarcastic remark?
The past and the present scene rapidly intertwined before his eyes. Chang Yusu suddenly felt a surge of intense anger rush to his head. His voice was hoarse as he threw his head back and shouted. The anger that tore at his heart and liver but could not be relieved poured down like a tide that swept over his head, blocking his mouth and nose! Blocking his five senses! Blocking his seven orifices!

He's about to explode!
He's about to explode!
The hatred and rage rising in his chest was like a ghostly infant extending its sharp, long fingernails, screaming as it tore through the skin of his chest, ripped apart his flesh, broke his bones, and strained to stick its head out!
"Pfft pfft pfft—" Chang Yusu spat out several mouthfuls of blood into the sky!

The fresh, intense, and scalding scent of blood filled the tall, enclosed dungeon.

"After vomiting blood, he fainted," Luo Feng reported.

Xue Xiao followed closely behind Shan Yue, saying, "Pour some ice water on him to wake him up. Keep an eye on him these next few days. If he runs away, I'll let you go home."

Luo Feng shuddered: "Yes!"

His exile to Tianbao Temple shows that there is still hope for him!

Letting him go home means he's completely beyond saving.

Luo Feng retreated into the darkness, rubbing his hands together as he retreated back to the dungeon: In this life, he was a vicious assassin, and he would use his utmost patience to reclaim the honor that belonged to him—that son of a bitch Ji Feng must have been following the master closely these past few days, trying to shake his position!

The dungeon's exit wasn't at Tianbao Temple, but rather by going up the tunnel and emerging from a secluded courtyard in the east of the city.

As soon as I emerged from the dungeon, I saw the stars and the moon.

The carriage was already waiting there, but there was no coachman. Xue Xiao mounted the horse first and reached out to help Shan Yue, but he saw that Shan Yue could not raise her hand to the required height even after several attempts. Xue Xiao looked closely and saw that she was trembling all over, her lips were pale, and her face looked extremely ugly.

Before he had fully recovered from his serious injuries, he turned his words into a sharp sword, piercing through Chang Yusu—such a mentally and physically exhausting battle must have left the commander-in-chief utterly depleted.

Xue Xiao got off the carriage, his body slightly hunched, hooked one hand around Shan Yue's knee and gently supported her shoulder with the other, and lifted her into the carriage.

"You—" Shan Yue's voice trembled, "Put me down. I can, I'm fine."

"I didn't say you weren't good enough." Xue Xiao's face was hidden in the darkness of the carriage, his voice calm and deep: "It's precisely because you're so capable that you won the battle on your first mission. As an ally, I'm proud, and I'm happy to give you a hug, isn't that enough?"

He Shanyue was as stubborn as an old ox with a nose ring, and as foul-smelling as a rock in a latrine. She had a strong aversion to men in their forties or fifties—she absolutely could not be told that she was incompetent.

We have to go along with it.

One must adopt a humble attitude.

You can't blame her for not taking care of her health and insisting on expending all her energy at this moment—her logic in doing things never needs anyone else's approval.

Xue Xiao spread his fingers and used his large hand to hold the woman's thin back, gently putting Shan Yue down so that she could lean against the carriage for comfort: "You rest for a while, I'll drive slowly and call you when we arrive."

Severe pain in my left shoulder.

It must have been that the wound was just reopened.

Shan Yue gritted her teeth and forced herself to nod. As the carriage curtain was lowered and darkness returned, she closed her eyes and drifted into a drowsy state of self-healing.