Bai Qingqing’s smile slowly faded as her eyes grew wider, and her brother’s words echoed in her mind.
She turned to Bai Yan with a wooden expression, her voice trembling just slightly, “Brother, the Lord Ning you mentioned before…”
“That’s him. Lord Ning has helped the Bai family a great deal in the past, but we’ve never had the chance to properly thank him.”
Ning Zhao was even more polite. “It was nothing, Lord Bai is being too kind.”
Bai Qingqing remained expressionless, her mind buzzing. So, it wasn’t Yaoyao who made the mistake; the one who had made the mistake was her?
This Lord Ning Zhao was the very one her brother had spoken of. But who, then, was Ning Yan?
She began to doubt herself, but she clearly remembered seeing Ning Yan entering and leaving the Jin Yi Wei headquarters. Was that a place one could just enter and exit freely?
“Lord Ning, is there another Lord Ning in the Jin Yi Wei headquarters?”
Bai Yaoyao also reacted, “Yes, is there someone else? Otherwise, who is the Lord Ning my sister knows?”
“Another Lord with the surname Ning?”
Ning Zhao blinked, “Now that you mention it, there is indeed another one, but he…”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
Before Ning Zhao could finish his sentence, a sharp scream suddenly pierced the air from not far off, cutting through the joyous atmosphere of the banquet like a knife, bringing everything to a halt.
Bai Yan and Ning Zhao immediately exchanged glances and ran toward the direction of the sound, sensing that something had happened.
Bai Qingqing quickly asked Yaoyao to calm the guests down and followed her brother and Ning Zhao, running as fast as she could, her skirt held up, sweat dripping from her face. She passed through a moon gate, and just a few steps ahead, Bai Yan turned and grabbed her, covering her eyes with his hand, “Don’t look.”
But the scene had already imprinted itself in her mind. Bai Qingqing slowly pulled Bai Yan’s hand away.
On the flagstone path, a man lay on the ground, his left arm severed from the forearm. Blood sprayed out, staining the stone path completely. The severed arm lay not far away, still clutching something in the hand.
In front of him stood a figure dressed in red, with a black crown atop his head. The knife in his hand dripped blood, and his familiar, handsome face was splattered with some of it. His appearance was even more eerie and demonic, as though he had stepped from the depths of hell, walking over the bones of the dead.
Bai Qingqing stared blankly at Ning Yan, the sharp screams still ringing in her ears. The sounds faded like receding tides, and she saw Ning Yan move his lips. She couldn’t hear the words, but she could clearly read his lips.
He said, “Here’s a gift for you.”
Bai Qingqing couldn’t remember exactly how the family banquet ended, but it certainly wasn’t on a pleasant note.
She had been shielded by her brother, and she didn’t know what happened to the man on the ground. She had heard he was an old acquaintance invited by their father, but how Ning Yan came to be in the Bai residence and why he had attacked him was still unclear.
However, she had overheard some of the guests talking about Ning Yan, saying he was cruel by nature, bloodthirsty, and warlike, a sword in the Emperor’s hand with no humanity.
Countless souls had perished under his blade, and even children and women were not spared. He was as terrifying as a devil.
Bai Qingqing sat absentmindedly under the corridor, and Zidai came over with a bowl of calming soup. “Miss, drink it while it’s warm. The master specially asked the doctor to prepare it, fearing you might have been frightened.”
She numbly took the soup, sipping it slowly, unable to taste anything.