Chapter Twelve: Life and Death

Yang Lian’s sequence of actions seemed intricate and numerous, yet in reality, they all occurred in the blink of an eye. These maneuvers had utterly exhausted his strength, and after killing the second brother, he half-knelt on the ground, gasping for breath, sweat streaming down his forehead and cheeks, with no energy left to wipe it away.

Fortunately, within this dense forest, there remained an animal trap left by hunters, and it happened to be made of iron. Yang Lian had cleverly used it to kill the second brother—this was already his limit. He had no idea when the leader would arrive, so he knew he must make use of this fleeting respite.

After a brief rest, Yang Lian immediately crawled over, inserted a wooden stick into the trap, and, using the principle of leverage, slowly pried it open. His strength was failing, so he could only lift it a little at a time, wedging objects into the gap as he went. At last, he managed to open the trap, and a genuine smile of relief appeared on his face.

Yang Lian had seen this type of animal trap in rural areas in later times, so he set it up with ease, covering it with dead leaves so that nothing appeared out of the ordinary. The third brother was injured; Yang Lian reckoned he would be recuperating, so for now, only the leader remained as an enemy. This man was undoubtedly the most dangerous—he would need to be exceedingly careful.

Summoning what strength remained, Yang Lian dragged the corpse of the second brother next to the trap, then positioned himself at the other end. In this way, the second brother, the trap, and Yang Lian formed nearly a straight line. Having done all this, Yang Lian was on the verge of collapse. Summoning the last of his energy, he pushed himself up and staggered toward Princess Huairou. Suddenly, his body swayed, and he collapsed to the ground, motionless.

Princess Huairou stared blankly at the scene. Having spent her life in Jinling, residing in the prince’s mansion, she was at worst a little spoiled; she had never experienced anything like this. Now, with death looming so near, there was a man fighting desperately for her sake. As a woman made of water, her heart began to melt, bit by bit, feeling that Yang Lian was extraordinarily good to her. She completely forgot that he had once struck her, and forgot her vow, made not long ago, to exterminate his entire family.

Seeing Yang Lian fall, she let out a sharp cry, heedless of her wounded knee, and rushed toward him. Stumbling to his side, her knee was bleeding freely from the pain. Yang Lian lay prone on the ground, utterly still.

“You mustn’t die,” Princess Huairou said, reaching out to try and lift him, but she was too weak; it was futile.

In that moment, she felt more helpless than ever. She blamed her own willfulness—had she not been so stubborn, she could have already fled back to Changzhou and none of this would have happened. But now, things had reached the point of no return, and her eyes filled with tears as she began to sob quietly.

In the forest, the delicate and headstrong princess wept, unaware that a grim-faced man had appeared ahead. He was in his forties, the leader of the assassins. When he arrived, Yang Lian was already lying motionless on the ground, with Princess Huairou sobbing by his side. Not far away, his own brother lay covered in blood. The leader knew his brother’s skill well—anyone who could kill the second brother was certainly no ordinary man. Thus, he did not act rashly, but observed quietly, wary of falling into a trap.

The princess, lost in her tears, had no idea someone was approaching. She wept for the time it takes to burn a stick of incense, until her voice was hoarse, but the man on the ground did not move. She tried several times to pull Yang Lian up, but he, being over eight feet tall, was a giant compared to her—she could not budge him.

“It’s time to end this,” the leader said coldly, walking forward with a cruel smile. With the third brother wounded and the second dead, this blood debt must be avenged, even if it meant desecrating a corpse.

“That’s enough—weeping so much, aren’t you tired!” the leader sneered as he approached.

Princess Huairou, startled by his words, looked up in terror: “Ah, it’s you!”

“Hmph, so you still recognize me,” the leader replied, never letting down his guard, eyes fixed on the princess and the man on the ground. He was well aware of his brother’s prowess, and since his brother had perished, it was likely due to trickery—it was wise to remain cautious.

“Stay back! Do not come any closer!” Princess Huairou shouted, retreating two steps, but then, as if remembering something, she clung to Yang Lian’s body, refusing to move.

“Ha! You think you can stop me?” the leader sneered, advancing step by step.

Still, Princess Huairou would not give up. She tried to drag Yang Lian away, which caused the bandages on her hands to come undone, fresh blood flowing, the pain piercing straight to her heart.

“Prepare to die!” the leader declared, drawing his short blade and circling around the second brother’s body. He glanced down, saying, “Second brother, rest easy—I will avenge you!” He would subdue his enemies first.

The princess grew more terrified but would not yield until the leader was within ten paces, at which point she dropped Yang Lian in panic and turned to flee.

“You think you can escape? You must die as well!” the leader shouted in fury. This mission had gone disastrously, and regardless of the princess’s special status, he could no longer care.

He had barely taken two steps when something felt wrong. He tried to lift his foot but was too late—a seemingly ordinary patch of ground suddenly revealed an animal trap that snapped shut on his ankle. The sharp teeth pierced his skin, biting deep into the flesh, making him break out in a cold sweat from the pain.

“So that’s how he killed my brother,” the thought flashed through his mind, but almost immediately, another grim realization followed.

The leader’s reaction was quick, but Yang Lian’s was quicker. Though the pain had sent him to the ground, in that instant he decided to feign death, remaining motionless. He had not expected Princess Huairou to try so desperately to save him, which further convinced the leader.

As the trap snapped shut with a metallic click, clamping the leader’s ankle, Yang Lian sprang up, thrusting his short blade forward.

The leader, unflinching in the face of danger, endured the pain and stood his ground like a mountain, raising his blade to parry. Yet as Yang Lian’s blade came within three inches, he abruptly drew it back. With his other hand, he suddenly flung a gleaming dagger directly at the leader’s face.

“Wretch, so cunning!” the leader bellowed in anger and alarm—this young man was truly treacherous. He was forced to chop at the dagger with his blade.

With a clang, sparks flew as dagger met blade, the dagger falling into the dead leaves.

Yang Lian, having spent the last of his strength, swung his short blade at the leader. Another sharp clang rang out as the leader, with excellent reflexes, turned and struck back—their blades collided, but Yang Lian’s weakened body could not withstand the blow. Thrown to the ground, his blade flew from his grasp.

The leader laughed coldly. Even trapped, he could now see Yang Lian’s true state—he was no longer a threat.

Yang Lian lay prone, his body simply too weak, his skill no match for this foe—it was no wonder he suffered. His palm numb, he clenched his fist, pondering his next move.

The leader, seemingly impervious to pain, dragged the trap with him, advancing slowly—each step bringing Yang Lian closer to death.

Suddenly, Princess Huairou saw that Yang Lian was alive and exclaimed with joy, “Ah, you’re still alive!”

“Not for much longer,” the leader replied icily.

Yang Lian flexed his wrist, raised his head, and looked calmly at the leader. “Are you certain?”

The leader was taken aback. Was this man truly unafraid? That last exchange of blades had shown him Yang Lian’s poor skill. Killing the second brother must have required both cunning and luck—who would have guessed a hunter’s trap lay hidden in the forest? The authorities had placed them there to deal with wild beasts, not knowing they would become Yang Lian’s weapon.

The leader had been sure Yang Lian was doomed, but his calm retort made him hesitate. Could Yang Lian have more tricks up his sleeve? The leader fell silent, remaining wary, glancing around the forest. The leaves rustled in the dappled sunlight—was someone else hiding nearby?

Impossible. If anyone were there, they would have shown themselves by now—why resort to such traps? The leader’s mind raced, but he dismissed the thought, his expression clouded and uncertain.

“Consider yourself lucky,” he finally said, crouching to force the trap open. With great strength, he pried it apart in just a few tries.

Throughout, Yang Lian watched coolly, making no move.

“Be glad you know your place,” the leader said again. He had deliberately set his blade on the ground, and while opening the trap was his most vulnerable moment, Yang Lian had not attacked—proof he had no tricks left. He was no longer a threat.

The leader picked up his blade again, gritting his teeth against the pain, and advanced step by step.

“You must run!” Yang Lian urged, pushing Princess Huairou.

But the princess, unexpectedly resolute, shook her head. “I won’t go. I can’t leave.”

“Neither of you are going anywhere—you will both pay for my brother’s death!” the leader declared, stepping forward.

Yang Lian suddenly sneered. “Be careful—look behind you!”

“Pointless!” the leader retorted, taking another step, ready to strike. Suddenly, the ground moved again—a second, larger trap snapped shut on his other ankle. The iron jaws bit deep, leaving his foot a bloody mess. Howling in agony, he collapsed to his knees.

“I warned you to be careful—why so careless?” Yang Lian shook his head with a smile. Though pleased, his wounds flared with pain, making him draw a sharp breath.

Both of the leader’s ankles were now wounded, sweat streaming down his face as he cursed through gritted teeth, “You wretch—how cunning you are!”

“It was only self-preservation. If you hadn’t pressed so hard, we wouldn’t have come to this,” Yang Lian replied, though in truth, even with the leader injured, he wasn’t sure what else he could do.

The leader gripped his blade tightly, watching Yang Lian with suspicion, wary of further tricks. Yet Yang Lian remained motionless, cool and composed.

“This can’t continue,” the leader thought, searching for a way to break the stalemate. At that moment, he suddenly felt a chill at his neck—a broadsword appeared before his eyes.

Ps: Wishing all readers a happy Lantern Festival—may you be reunited with family and enjoy sweet happiness!