Lu Gui’s face twisted with rage. “You—”
"Shut it." Hua Ren didn’t let him finish. How dare he use such underhanded means to fight and confuse Sheng Fei?
Hua Ren shot forward, his sword a blur as it carved through the air, forcing Lu Gui to stumble back under the onslaught. A savage slash aimed for his chest made Lu Gui twist his body at an impossible angle, just barely avoiding being gutted.
"Wow..." Sheng Fei whispered, watching his mate force Lu Gui back with his sheer strength. He had seen Hua Ren fight before which was amazing but seeing Hua Ren fight for him was spectacular. Not to forget that Hua Ren was dressed in his very own robes while doing so. It made him feel a sense of right upon Hua Ren and it really felt good.
Suddenly, Lu Gui lunged forward, nearly slashing Hua Ren on the arm but Hua dodged by a hair’s breadth. Sheng Fei’s golden eyes sharpened and in an instant, he was back in the fight.
With a single step, he was beside Hua Ren, his sword joining in a seamless, synchronized assault.
"Are you sure you’re okay?" Sheng Fei asked, his voice laced with concern even as he parried Lu Gui’s counterattack. "I can handle him while you rest."
Hua Ren just huffed. His body coiled, muscles tensing, before he unleashed a brutal roundhouse kick straight to Lu Gui’s jaw. The force sent the possessed Emperor crashing into a tree with a sickening crack. Bark splintered on impact, leaves trembled from the sheer force.
Hua Ren raised a brow at Sheng Fei, as if to say, ’Does that answer your question?’
Sheng Fei chuckled, shaking his head. He shouldn’t have worried. Hua Ren was, without a doubt, the strongest omega he had ever seen. With the name Hua Ren made for himself in battle over the years, it was like Hua Ren lived to fight.
"Fuck!" Lu Gui roared, staggering to his feet. He rolled his shoulder with an audible pop, fixing the dislocation as if it were nothing. His glare snapped toward Hua Ren, eyes burning with rage.
He had completely forgotten about the Ivory Warlord and was focused on Sheng Fei so when Hua Ren popped out of nowhere, he was shocked and momentarily disoriented. He really hated the Ivory Warlord. Not only because of his strength and strong sense of justice but there was something more. Something he couldn’t pinpoint. The hatred was almost...natural.
"This doesn’t involve you, General." He growled, stepping forward. "Leave while you can."
Hua Ren scoffed, pointing his sword at him. "I knew it couldn’t be true, my Emperor selling people, being involved in illegal activities, ordering the death of a whole village, it was all you. You were the one giving those orders, participating in such disgusting horrid events. You’re a parasite.” he spat, glaring at him.
Lu Gui only grinned, his eerie, sharp-toothed smile stretching unnaturally wide. He tilted his head, feigning amusement. “Oh, dear Warlord. That foolish devotion of yours is almost touching. You think I did all those things by myself?" He sneered. "Your beloved Emperor had all those thoughts you call horrid and disgusting. I merely influenced them, amplified them."
He began to laugh—loud, unhinged, completely deranged. “I only made his most darkest wishes come true.” His dark eyes gleamed evily as he spread his arms wide, as if welcoming them into his madness. “There is no difference between us anymore. He is me and I am him. Every fear, every moment of doubt he ever had, every dark thought he buried deep—I unearthed them all. And he let me. Do you want to know why? Because I gave him something no one else did.” He leaned in slightly, eyes narrowing. “I gave him freedom. I freed him from the moral constraints of the this world. I freed him from judgement, from fear. Even from the shadow of his older brother. I freed him and made him the Emperor!"
Hua Ren’s stomach twisted in disgust, but before he could respond, Sheng Fei took a step forward, his golden eyes burning with unrestrained rage.
“You talk too much,” he said coldly. “All I hear is the pathetic wailing of a coward hiding behind my brother’s face. You think you’ve won just because you’re wearing Minxiu’s body? You think that means he’s gone?” His fingers tightened around his sword hilt. “You’re wrong. My brother is still in there. Stop blaming him for all the evil things you did and are still doing. I’m going to get him back no matter how long it takes."
Lu Gui shook his head, laughing. “You want to blame me for everything? Fine. But deep down, you know the truth.” His voice turned sickeningly sweet. “Your beloved brother was never as good as you thought he was.”
Sheng Fei’s grip on his sword trembled. “Lies.”
Lu Gui sneered. “Oh, but you know I’m not lying. Do you truly not remember the things you caught your brother secretly doing? Do you really not remember him brutally killing those chickens, deliberately pushing that boy off the cliff?" Then, his gaze darkened as his lips curled into something truly vile. "Do you truly not remember him poisoning your mother?"
That was when the air changed.
Sheng Fei’s entire body went rigid, a tremor passing through him as he recalled that very day.
"That was before the journey, wasn’t it?" Lu Gui asked, his voice like that of a devil, inciting memories that were deeply buried in Sheng Fei’s mind. "That was before the accident. Before he entered that cave and released me from my prison. Can you still say that was my doing? Can you still say his mind wasn’t corrupt from the onset?"
Sheng Fei’s breathing grew uneven, confusion, sorrow, and anger all raging withing him. For a brief moment, the world around him faded and his mind pulled him back—back to a time he had tried so hard to forget.
It was supposed to be an ordinary day. His mother had been sitting by the window, sunlight catching the delicate embroidery of her robes as she sipped tea, smiling at them both. He had been happy. They had all been happy. But then—
The servant boy collapsed.
Sheng Fei could still hear the gasps of the palace attendants, the chaos as the boy convulsed on the floor, foam spilling from his lips. The tea cup had shattered at their mother’s feet, dark liquid seeping into the rug.
Then, the servant, barely able to breathe, had pointed with trembling fingers—at Minxiu. He had told them all that Minxiu poisoned the tea but no one believed him. To prove his accusation, he had to drink the tea and die.
The memory stabbed through Sheng Fei’s heart.
Minxiu had stood there, wide-eyed but silent, his small hands still clutching the porcelain teapot. He didn’t deny it. He didn’t beg for forgiveness. He had simply watched as the boy’s life slowly slipped away.
Sheng Fei squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block it out. But he could see it all so clearly now. The satisfied glint in Minxiu’s eyes when the servant boy died and how it quickly changed to disappointment when he sat them on his mother.