Li Mochou's fingertips began to exert pressure.
Lu Wushuang's little face slowly turned red as she struggled desperately:
"Let me go!"
"Bad woman!"
Cheng Ying was being held by the collar, making it somewhat difficult to breathe, but she didn't thrash around.
Instead, she reached out and tightly grasped Lu Wushuang's wrist.
Li Mochou looked at them coldly:
"Look at you two, so devoted to each other as sisters."
Lu Liding and his wife shouted together, "Li Mochou, put the children down!"
Seeing the two girls' lives hanging by a thread, Yang Guo roared frantically as well:
"Beautiful Fairy!"
"Show mercy!"
As he spoke, he was about to charge forward to save them, but the moment he raised his foot, a surge of chaos welled in his chest.
Just now, in order to suppress the poison of the Ice Soul Silver Needle, the bit of Nine Yang true qi in his body had already been largely depleted.
In his state of panic, his qi and blood surged straight into his throat.
Pfft!
He spat a mouthful of blood onto the ground.
Yang Guo's vision went black, and he tumbled forward.
"Yang Guo!" Aniu quickly rushed forward, catching him from the left.
Little Shitou pounced over as well.
Together, the two managed to prop him up.
Li Mochou had originally been prepared to strike the killing blow.
Yet right at that moment, the movement of her hands suddenly stopped.
As Lu Wushuang struggled, her collar shifted to one side, revealing half an embroidered handkerchief inside.
Embroidered on the handkerchief were red flowers and green leaves.
Vibrant red flowers, lush green leaves.
Li Mochou froze completely, her fingers coming to a standstill.
In the next instant, she whipped her head around and looked at Cheng Ying.
Between Cheng Ying's collar, an identical half of an embroidered handkerchief was exposed as well.
Color seemed to drain from Li Mochou's face little by little.
Her fingers gently touched the handkerchief.
The stitching on that handkerchief—which needle had rushed, where the twin lotus knot was crooked by half a millimeter...
She remembered all of it.
Because this embroidered handkerchief had originally been embroidered by her own hands.
...
That year.
She was still a young girl who had yet to see the world.
She had no title of Scarlet Maiden, nor did she possess the Ice Soul Silver Needle.
She sat beneath the candlelight, holding an embroidery needle in her hand.
Lu Zhanyuan sat across from her. After watching for a long time, he could not help but ask:
"Mochou, what are you embroidering?"
Li Mochou did not look up and said:
"Can't you tell?"
Lu Zhanyuan looked very closely:
"A flower?"
The needle in Li Mochou's hand paused, and she looked up with a smile, glaring at him:
"Nonsense."
Lu Zhanyuan asked with a laugh:
"Then what kind of flower is it?"
Li Mochou answered:
"It's a datura."
Lu Zhanyuan asked again:
"Why are you embroidering leaves beside it?"
Li Mochou lowered her head, the tip of her needle piercing the handkerchief and drawing a line of green thread:
"If a flower doesn't have leaves to accompany it,"
"won't it be all alone?"
"It wouldn't look good."
Lu Zhanyuan looked at her and deliberately asked:
"Then who is this green leaf?"
The base of Li Mochou's ears flushed hot, but she refused to admit it aloud:
"No one."
Lu Zhanyuan laughed even harder:
"Really no one?"
Li Mochou said shyly:
"Ask me one more time,"
"and I won't give it to you."
Lu Zhanyuan instantly shut his mouth with a smile.
A moment later,
Li Mochou finally handed the embroidered handkerchief over.
The red flower in the center, nestled against the green leaves.
She turned her face away, feigning an air of indifference:
"Take it."
"If you lose it, I won't make you another."
Lu Zhanyuan took it, folded it slowly, and gently placed it in his bosom.
"Don't worry, I won't lose it."
At that time, Li Mochou believed him—believed him completely and utterly.
She likened the datura flower to herself.
The character for "green" (lü) sounded similar to "Lu" (lù), so the green leaves were likened to the Master Lu in her heart, signifying "red flowers and green leaves, snuggled and relying upon each other."
On his deathbed, Lu Zhanyuan had ultimately produced this handkerchief after all, leaving it to Lu Liding.
This handkerchief had been kept all along, but not out of longing for Li Mochou.
Rather, it was so that one day—they could use her past sincerity to buy a chance at survival for the Lu family.
...
Now, ten years had passed.
Lu Zhanyuan was dead, and He Yuanjun was dead too.
She had thought that token of affection from back then should have been burned long ago.
Or thrown away, rotted away.
In any case, it should never have appeared again.
Yet, against all odds, here it was, torn into two halves.
Tied to the two children of the Lu family.
Li Mochou's hands began to tremble.
She turned her head and looked at Lu Liding, who was sitting slumped to the side.
"This handkerchief..."
"Why is it still here?"
Lu Liding opened his mouth, but said nothing.
Li Mochou's voice dropped several pitches lower:
"Did Master Lu leave it?"
Lu Liding still gave no answer.
Yet this silence in itself was already an answer.
Li Mochou suddenly let out a faint cold laugh, her laughter very light:
"Good."
"Truly good."
A tear fell without warning.
Plop.
It landed on the back of her hand.
Everyone was stunned.
They only knew Li Mochou as ruthless and cruel in the jianghu; none of them had ever heard of Li Mochou crying.
Li Mochou's tears fell one by one just like that.
She looked at the handkerchief, her hands trembling and her gaze hollow. Her lips moved several times before she squeezed out a sliver of a voice, muttering to herself:
"Didn't you throw me away..."
"Didn't you say..."
"that the one in your heart wasn't me?"
Her voice grew softer and softer:
"Then why..."
"why did you still keep this?"
Li Mochou's fingers clutched the handkerchief, her mind tumbling over and over.
Nothing remained except that sentence from back then:
"Don't worry, I won't lose it!"
Amidst her low murmurs, two streams of tears rolled down endlessly from her eyes.
Li Mochou suddenly raised her head, letting out an extraordinarily mournful, cloud-piercing howl:
"Ah—!"
A loud roaring reverberated in everyone's ears.
Immediately following that, a wave of violent true qi burst outward from all around Li Mochou.
Boom!
First, the blue bricks beneath her feet shattered.
One, then two, cracks rapidly spreading outward.
Several teacups on the stone table in the courtyard bounced up simultaneously.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
They exploded into shards in midair.
Tea mixed with porcelain splinters splashed in all directions.
Half of a ruined rockery was violently blasted into the air by the shockwave.
It burst in midair into a dense rain of gravel, shooting out everywhere!
A small tree as thick as a bowl in the corner of the courtyard was forcibly bent down, breaking on the spot with a sharp snap.
Leaves swirled loudly up into the midair.
It was as if a violent gale had suddenly swept through the courtyard.
Lu Liding and the other two were already heavily injured, and being struck by this airwave, they tumbled backward on the spot.
Ke Zhen'e had just used his iron staff to pull himself up when he was knocked back to the ground by the shockwave once more.
Yang Guo was held up by Aniu and Little Shitou, leaning against the crooked tree behind them, his hem fluttering wildly in the blast.
Squinting his eyes, he watched Li Mochou before him.
For the first time in his heart, he truly understood.
Why this woman had been able to forge such a fearsome reputation in the jianghu.
His own pitiful half-year of Nine Yang...
was still far, far behind.
Truly far behind.
...
The long howl finally ceased.
The courtyard was in absolute ruins.
Tear traces still remained on Li Mochou's face, but her expression had turned cold once more.
She lowered her head and glanced at the two pieces of embroidered handkerchief.
Suddenly, with one hand for each, she tucked Cheng Ying and Lu Wushuang directly under her arms.
Lu Liding's face paled drastically:
"Li Mochou, what are you trying to do?!"
Li Mochou did not answer; tapping her foot, she leaped backward two steps.
Seeing this, Yang Guo violently flung off Aniu and Little Shitou's hands and stumbled forward.
The moment he mustered even a bit of Nine Yang true qi, a sharp twitching pain struck his dantian.
He simply lunged straight forward; his fingers even managed to reach Li Mochou's hem, yet failed to grasp it.
The chilly hem of her apricot-yellow Daoist robe slid away between his fingers, carrying a whiff of cold fragrance.
Heavily injured Lu Liding clawed at the muddy ground with both hands as he crawled forward, roaring heart-wrenchingly:
"Li Mochou!"
"Leave them here!"
"Shuang'er! Ah Ying!!"
Lu Erniang clutched her bleeding abdomen, crying out as she stumbled forward:
"Give me back my children!!"
Aboard the courtyard wall, the night wind howled furiously.
Li Mochou stood atop the broken blue tiles, her Daoist robe fluttering loudly in the wind.
Lu Wushuang was suspended upside down in midair, the splint on her lower leg swaying as she kicked her legs and thrashed desperately in a panic:
"Let me go! You old witch, let me go!"
"Father! Mother! Save me!"
Tucked under the other side, Cheng Ying did not cry or shout; she merely reached back and tightly grabbed Lu Wushuang's wildly flailing hand.
She looked back down at Yang Guo, her uncle, and her aunt on the ground, her voice trembling yet strangely calm:
"Shuang'er, don't move."
"It's too high, we'll fall."
Li Mochou sneered, tapped her toes against the blue tiles, and instantly vanished into the boundless darkness.
Ke Zhen'e used his iron staff to haul himself back up.
He bellowed furiously into the empty night sky:
"Demoness!"
"If you have the guts, come at this old man!"
"What kind of skill is it to bully two children!"
"Leave them behind!"
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