CH 38

Of course, I’m going to kill you! (with a furious tone)

// Warning – Disturbing Contents

Murong Yan sat by the fire, casting a disgusted look at the bandits on horseback while trying to quell the throbbing pain in her head.

As the leading man dismounted his horse, his dirty attire hidden beneath a magnificent cloak and his unkempt black beard running wild along his cheeks, Murong Yan felt a wave of revulsion wash over her.

The man’s eyes glinted with greedy anticipation as he caught sight of Murong Yan sitting alone.

With a loud shout, he exclaimed, “Luck is on my side! Just a few days ago, the gods blessed me with a good merchant caravan, and now they’ve gifted me a beautiful wife!”

The remaining men dismounted from their horses one by one, each of them appearing more vulgar and rough than the last, deepening Murong Yan’s feeling of unease.

As she held her forehead in discomfort, Murong Yan attempted to speak, but a sudden itch in her throat caused her to cough. Despite turning her head and covering her mouth, she couldn’t stifle the noise.

The sound of her suppressed coughs sounded like soft moans in the ears of the rough men, intensifying their excitement.

One of the men, his hair braided, taunted loudly, “Hahaha, boss! Such a stunning woman. Let me have a turn, too.”

“Shan Meng, how can you have such a delicate woman? If she’s ruined, where will I find another one like her?” The boss sneered at Murong Yan, his rotten yellow teeth exposed in a lecherous grin.

“Pretty little thing, if you come with me, you’ll be the wife of the bandit leader. I promise I won’t mistreat you,” he continued, staring at Murong Yan with a predatory gaze.

Overcome with nausea, Murong Yan struggled to speak weakly, “You should leave now before the people from This Princess’ clan return.”

The men burst into laughter, their swords rattling in their sheaths.

Shan Meng, the man with braided hair, joked with his companions, “This beauty claims to be a princess! Does she truly believe she is one?”

Gazing at Murong Yan’s simple attire and the dilapidated carriage behind her, he couldn’t fathom it.

The bandit leader, growing restless, made a move to grab at Murong Yan’s clothing.

Despite her face turning an unnatural shade of red, Murong Yan displayed no fear in her eyes and spoke sternly.

“Step back,”

Murong Yan commanded, her lowered eyelids lifting to reveal a gaze that appeared to be seated on a throne rather than a wooden chair.

Her unwavering posture and sharp tone left the bandit leader momentarily stunned, seemingly convinced by her commanding presence. The man hesitated, unsure of how to proceed.

“Are you incapable, boss?”

The other bandits egged him on, shouting, “If you can’t handle it, let us have a go!”

Pride wounded, the man acted without hesitation and forcefully pushed Murong Yan to the ground, lifting her skirt to reveal a prosthetic leg that glinted unnaturally in the firelight.

“Ahhh! She’s even missing a leg?” The lecherous man’s gaze dropped to the prosthetic.

“Why bother pretending to be so proud when you’re not even whole?” he taunted, his earlier lustful intentions now replaced with disdain.

The man’s eyes wandered down to the patch of red cloth revealed under the woman’s neckline, his sleazy tongue flicking over his lips in anticipation.

But suddenly, the man’s face turned pale and he staggered back, clutching at his own throat and wheezing, “Air…air…I can’t breathe!” Foam bubbled at his lips.

The other bandits rushed forward, slashing at his clothes with their swords in a futile attempt to help him breathe, but it was no use.

They could only watch in horror as their leader gasped his last breaths and died before their eyes.

Struggling to sit up, Murong Yan’s hair fell in disarray on the ground as she held a small wooden box tightly in her hand.

Despite her body trembling slightly, she remained indifferent to the howling and shouting of the men in front of her.

Chongwen Princess Murong Yan was never willing to be a victim, even with an amputated leg.

The man named Shan Meng was the first to turn around, his face twisted with rage as he stared at Murong Yan and shouted, “What did you do to the boss!”

Without giving the woman a chance to answer, Shan Meng reached out to wrap his hand around her delicate neck, his lips curling into a snarl. “You—”

Before he could finish his sentence, he was abruptly interrupted.

『Thud!』

A deafening sound.

A frigid wind swept by, colder than the snow, and Shan Meng felt his skin split open as blood began to pour out.

In the next moment, he watched in sheer horror as his wrist was severed from his forearm and fell to the ground with a sickening thud.

A sharp dagger was deeply embedded in the tree trunk, with only the handle quivering slightly.

“What do you want to do?”

A voice demanded, infused with a surge of murderous intent like a raging wave.

A woman’s figure in a black robe emerged in the distance, with deep red blood stains on her chin and large bloodstains on her white clothes. She held a tiger cub in her arms.

As she beheld the lone woman sitting on the ground with her clothes disheveled, encircled by the mountain bandits, her pupils suddenly contracted.

In just a single breath, ignoring the screaming Shan Meng holding his arm, the woman in the black robe flashed to Murong Yan’s side.

Turning to face the crowd, her pupils dilated like a hunting black panther as she suddenly reached out and yanked on the braid of Shan Meng’s hair, then pinched his chin.

Ming Qin’s expression was emotionless as she stared at Shan Meng, who was startled in front of her, as if trying to discern who dared to act so recklessly towards Murong Yan.

“What… what do you think you’re doing?”

Shan Meng’s neck was tightly coiled, as if by a python. His body trembled as he struggled to breathe, his face turning from red to blue.

“What are you doing?”

Ming Qin tilted her head slightly, seeming a bit puzzled as to why the man would ask such a foolish question.

As she tightened her grip, the sound of bones being crushed could be heard. She answered in a flat tone, “Of course, I’m going to kill you.”

Ming Qin released her grip, and Shan Meng’s teeth and cheekbones shattered as her fist connected with his face. The man let out a piercing howl that made the other bandits shudder and draw their swords from their belts.

As the black-robed woman turned, her black hair floated in the cold wind, and her eyes tinged with red. She dragged the unconscious Shan Meng with one hand, and the bloodstains on her white clothes became more vivid against the falling snow, making her look like a fierce demon crawling out of hell.

With ease, Ming Qin lifted the man, who was twice her size, with one hand and threw him up in the air. As he fell, she kicked him hard between the legs, breaking several bones with a loud ‘crack.’ His body flew towards the other bandits like a rag.

As the group scrambled to catch Shan Meng, Ming Qin drew her sword. In the next instant, several sword flowers bloomed, cutting off the hands of the four or five men who had just drawn their swords.

The air was filled with the sound of wailing, but Ming Qin showed no mercy.

In fact, the sounds of the men’s agony only fueled her frenzied state.

The shadow guard raised her hand, her sword’s tip aimed upward. With a swift movement, the sword pierced through the chin and up to the top of the head of the man closest to her, denying him any chance to plead for mercy. With a flick of her wrist, the man’s face was split in half, and he fell lifelessly to the ground.

Witnessing the immense strength of their female opponent, the remaining men’s fighting spirit was shattered, and they turned around and fled for their lives.

Without giving them a chance to mount their horses, Ming Qin swung her sword without hesitation, cutting off the waists of two men who had their backs turned to her. Organs spilled out onto the ground, but she remained indifferent.

Then, she threw the long sword in her hand like a stone and pinned a man who was attempting to mount his horse to a tree trunk.

The winter trees were bare, and only the head impaled by the sword stared at the ground with wide-open eyes, blood pouring down from the forehead nourishing the earth.

The last man, who fell to the ground, looked at the woman walking towards him in fear and trembled, “Stop! Don’t come any closer… spare my life!”

The bandit’s face was now covered in snot and tears, devoid of the arrogance he had displayed earlier.

“Did you listen to Yan Yan when she asked you to stop earlier?” Ming Qin whispered in a low, icy voice. And before the man could even react, she punched him in the face.

Hard.

Over and over again.

The sound of heavy blows mingled with the man’s wailing, echoing through the quiet forest.

Even as the man’s pitiful cries faded into nothingness, the fists continued to rain down like drops of unrelenting rain.

Blood and flesh spattered in all directions, yet Ming Qin remained impassive, her eyes rolling with an unprecedented hostility, and a bloodthirsty aura enveloping her entire being.

Her mind was blank, more confused than ever, and all she could see was the blood-red hue on her fists.

“Ah Qin.”

“Ah Qin.”

The clear and melodious voice entered her ears, and the familiar call halted her uncontrollable swinging fists.

Raising her head, Ming Qin gazed at the woman not far away, who was holding the tiger cub and wearing her coat. She was still dazed and unable to regain her senses.

“Ah Qin, come here,” Murong Yan said, sitting on the ground and holding out her arm. Her eyes were gentle and she didn’t seem to mind the blood and fierce killing intent emanating from Ming Qin.

Ming Qin slowly regained her senses as she approached Murong Yan.

The sound of chains clashing filled the previously silent forest.

The beast had been captured.

Ming Qin stepped over the remains of flesh and limbs scattered on the ground and walked towards Murong Yan. She squatted down obediently and allowed the woman to fasten the chain around her neck. Her vicious gaze softened, and her mind gradually cleared.

“… I’m sorry.”

The previously vicious shadow guard now sounded choked up, lowering her head like a hunting dog waiting for its owner’s reprimand.

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“No need to apologize to me, Ah Qin. I knew you would come,” Murong Yan said with confidence and a comforting tone. She then smiled and asked, “Why did you bring back a little furball?”

“He lost his mother and couldn’t survive in the woods alone,” Ming Qin replied as she wiped her bloody hands. She then helped adjust Murong Yan’s clothes and tie her belt. “I remembered my promise for you to play with a tiger, so I brought it back.”

Murong Yan looked at Ming Qin’s serious expression and couldn’t help but want to laugh, but she coughed involuntarily.

This prompted the shadow guard to help her into the carriage and place the furry little ball on the floor inside. Ming Qin changed her dirty clothes outside the carriage before driving away.