Wandering Swordsman |

"Young lady, not long ago a woman covered in wounds came to me for help, so I came here..." Shen Mo's voice was calm and gentle, trying to offer some comfort to the woman who was clearly on the verge of collapse. As he spoke, he gently stroked the hilt of the sword at his waist, as if the sword could give him strength and keep him calm in this chaotic situation.

Upon hearing this, a glimmer of hope suddenly ignited in the woman's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by deep worry. Before Shen Mo could finish speaking, she urgently asked, "Where is she now?!" Her voice trembled slightly with excitement and anxiety. Her eyes were filled with a longing for an answer, and she seemed to be suspended in mid-air, awaiting Shen Mo's reply.

Shen Mo remained silent for a moment, seemingly weighing something. His brows furrowed slightly, a hint of hesitation in his deep gaze. Finally, he slowly turned and walked towards the mansion's gate, each step unusually slow, as if bearing a thousand-pound weight. He reached the gate, paused, and turned back to whisper, "Follow me..."

The woman followed closely behind Shen Mo, her steps hurried yet somewhat unsteady, as if each step carried a heavy burden. Her heart was filled with fear and unease. As they rounded the last corner, the cold figure in the pool of blood suddenly appeared before them. The woman recognized her at a glance as her closest maid, Xiao Yue.

"Xiaoyue!" The woman's voice was filled with uncontrollable grief and despair. Her steps quickened suddenly, and she almost rushed to Xiaoyue's side, then without hesitation, she tightly embraced the cold body. Tears streamed down her face like a burst dam, dripping onto Xiaoyue's pale face. She wept uncontrollably, her cries echoing in the quiet alley, as if even heaven and earth were moved.

Shen Mo stood to the side, his heart deeply moved by the scene, but he couldn't offer any further comfort. He bit his lower lip, a hint of helplessness and heaviness in his eyes. "I'm not good at comforting people, and I don't know how to comfort you," he said in a low, hoarse voice. "But think about it carefully. Even if you cry until dawn, she won't wake up. If she's important to you, the most important thing right now is to find a place to bury her. Then you can leave this place."

The woman looked up at Shen Mo through teary eyes, and seemed to see a glimmer of determination in his gaze. She knew he was right; although she didn't want to accept this cruel reality, she had to face it. She gently put Xiao Yue down, stood up, wiped away her tears, and nodded in understanding.

The two then left the alley and headed out of the city. The biting wind was so strong it almost made them lose their footing, but they didn't stop. Finally, they found a suitable spot in a wasteland outside the city. The land was undeveloped, and the surroundings were quiet, broken only by the occasional cry of a night bird.

Shen Mo silently dug the pit, the shovel cutting into the ground again and again with a dull thud. The woman sat to the side, clutching Xiaoyue's belongings tightly in her hands, her eyes vacant as she stared ahead, her thoughts seemingly drifting into the distance. Whenever she thought of the beautiful times she had spent with Xiaoyue, tears would well up in her eyes again, but she stubbornly held them back.

Once the pit was dug, Shen Mo gently placed Xiaoyue's body inside, arranging it carefully as if afraid of disturbing her peace. The woman stepped forward, gently stroking Xiaoyue's face, bidding her final farewell. "Xiaoyue, may you find peace in another world," she said softly and sorrowfully, her voice filled with endless longing and blessings.

Shen Mo filled in the pit, covering everything with soil. The woman stood quietly to the side, as if time had stood still at that moment. Her eyes were empty and deep, staring at the newly turned earth, as if trying to see Xiaoyue's face through it.

A gentle morning breeze stirred, lifting a few strands of the woman's loose hair, which swayed softly beside her cheek, like a silent lament. She slowly stepped forward and stood before Xiaoyue's grave. The woman murmured to herself, "Xiaoyue, if I hadn't been so willful and insisted on coming to Jinzhou for sightseeing, none of this would have happened. In the end, it was my willfulness that ruined you..." Her voice was low and hoarse, as if swallowed by sorrow, each word seeming to be squeezed from the deepest recesses of her heart.

As she spoke the last sentence, the woman's voice suddenly choked, and tears welled up in her eyes again. She knelt down, gently stroking the newly piled-up earth with her hands, as if this could convey a final warmth to Xiaoyue. She sobbed, her shoulders trembling slightly, seemingly unable to bear the guilt and sorrow in her heart.

"It's almost dawn, let's leave quickly. Otherwise, we'll be in trouble when those men in black arrive with their reinforcements." Shen Mo's voice broke the brief silence, his tone filled with urgency and worry.

Hearing Shen Mo's words, the woman looked up, her eyes still brimming with tears. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her agitated emotions. "You're right," she said, her voice weak but filled with determination. She stood up, brushed the dirt off her clothes, turned to face Shen Mo, and her eyes showed a newfound strength.

The words had barely left his lips when a chilling laugh suddenly echoed around them, seemingly coming from all directions simultaneously, making it impossible to pinpoint its source. "Hahaha, kid, you killed my men, are you just going to run away like this?" The voice carried an indescribable mockery and threat, like the hooting of an owl, particularly jarring in the pre-dawn darkness.

Shen Mo immediately became alert, instinctively gripping his sword tightly, his eyes scanning his surroundings like lightning. Every movement he made was filled with vigilance, as if he were ready to respond to a sudden attack at any moment. Looking around, he saw only overgrown weeds and a few withered trees shivering in the cold wind, but no one in sight. Shen Mo took a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady, and raised his voice, saying, "I wonder which expert has arrived here? Please show yourself!"

A tense atmosphere seemed to hang in the air, even the wind seemed to grow heavy. Just as Shen Mo finished speaking, a figure suddenly leaped out from behind a large tree not far away, landing lightly in front of the two. It was an old man wearing a tattered robe, his face covered with wrinkles, but his eyes were sharp as knives, exuding an undeniable air of authority.

"Young man, you're so young, I really couldn't tell you were the one who killed my men." The old man's voice was deep and hoarse, with a hint of unfathomable amusement. He slowly walked forward, each step seemingly deliberately provoking the surrounding air, making the atmosphere even more tense.

Shen Mo warily drew his sword, immediately shielding the woman behind him. The tip of the sword trembled slightly, showing that he was not taking the upcoming battle lightly. His eyes were fixed on the old man, his voice calm but full of vigilance: "Who are you!" There was no hint of retreat in his words, but rather a resolute determination.