The story continued.
The black-haired assassin was, of course, Kenshin — the fifteen-year-old Kenshin, now grown.
He currently worked for a certain faction, acting as an assassin in ancient Kyoto on Sakura Island, eliminating corrupt officials who exploited the people and engaged in filthy political deals.
When Su Yan adapted Kenshin for the Xia Nation's version, he deliberately chose not to give the character the blood-red hair from the original. That kind of thing might work in anime, but in a live-action drama, it would come off way too edgy.
The next part of the story played out in a flashback.
It showed how Kenshin and his master, Hiko Seijūrō, parted ways due to a clash in ideals.
Their conversations at a waterfall and stream were filled with artistic tension and emotional depth:
"The sword is a tool of death."
"Swordsmanship is the art of killing. No matter how beautifully you dress it up, that will never change."
"Even so, I will use this strength to protect those in suffering. Even if it's just one person, just one life — I will protect them with my own hands."
"Viewing cherry blossoms in spring, stargazing in summer, admiring the full moon in autumn, and walking through snow in winter… With all of that, the wine will taste sweet. If it still doesn't — you're probably sick.
One day, you'll understand the taste of sake. When that time comes, let's raise our cups together again."
Nearly ten minutes of screen time were dedicated to Kenshin, Hiko, and the complex power dynamics of Kyoto. The script's language was so poetic that Chu Yumeng — like many other viewers — often paused to savor a line or two.
This is amazing.
Chu Yumeng couldn't find a single flaw.
The script's depiction of chaos and its epic tone were so vivid that she could genuinely feel the suffering of the people, tormented by bandits, corrupt officials, and local tyrants.
And she even felt joy watching Kenshin carry out those brutal assassinations.
As the flashback ended, we returned to the present.
The wound on Kenshin's cheek — inflicted by Kiyosato — still hadn't healed. Every full moon, blood seeped from it.
"I've heard a superstition: a wound inflicted by a deep grudge will never heal until that grudge is resolved."
That's what Iizuka, a bearded messenger for the organization Kenshin worked for, told him.
The live comment section lit up:
[Oh no, don't tell me we're going into supernatural stuff. I want proper wuxia!]
[Please don't turn this into some ghost-slaying martial arts nonsense.]
[Grudge? More like an infected wound — they didn't have antibiotics back then, okay?]
[Maybe it's scurvy. Kenshin probably hates veggies.]
[Anemia, maybe?]
Chu Yumeng stopped looking at the scrolling comments.
By now, she had realized — this show wasn't just some action drama.
The flashbacks showed Kenshin full of hope, dreaming of saving the world.
But the present-day Kenshin — a cold, silent, emotionally numb killer — was a heartbreaking contrast.
He might be Kyoto's deadliest assassin, but at heart, he was still just a fifteen-year-old boy who once believed in justice.
As the plot deepened, the loneliness surrounding Kenshin became more and more profound.
Then came four or five intense assassination scenes in a row.
The fight choreography kept pushing beyond Chu Yumeng's expectations.
Even the comment section started questioning reality:
[Even with wires and rigs, how are these fight scenes this real? Wires can't speed up an actor's reflexes! Kenshin's draw speed is insane!]
[It's almost absurd — Kenshin moves like he's on another level of speed and agility. Even if there's post-production enhancement, this actor is just ridiculous!]
[The multiple mid-run direction changes — how does the actor control his leg muscles that precisely without slipping? His balance is unreal.]
[Has the quality of Xia Nation's martial arts dramas seriously reached this level?]
[Came for the action, but the plot… unexpectedly amazing.]
Then the story took a turn.
On a rainy night, a woman in white entered a small tavern.
Bright eyes, snowy skin, icy gaze — the moment she appeared, Chu Yumeng's heart skipped a beat.
She was stunning. And her aura... unforgettable.
Chu Yumeng had a good memory. She immediately recognized her — the childhood fiancée of Kiyosato, the man Kenshin killed at the beginning of the episode.
She's in Kyoto too...?
The woman sipped quietly from her cup, her expression lonely and distant.
Then, umbrella in hand, she left the tavern.
At that moment, the iconic background music from the original 'Rurouni Kenshin' OVA began to play.
This track, "In Memories a Boy Meets The Man", came bundled with the 'Trust & Betrayal' Arc content Su Yan redeemed from the system.
He had transcribed the score by ear over the past month, hired a recording studio to professionally produce it, registered the copyright, and — under his screenwriter credit — convinced Shinozaki Ikumi to approve it as a key insert song.
The music started gently, but as the scene progressed, it swelled with a tragic, haunting grandeur.
Then the camera cut.
Kenshin walked alone into the darkness.
In a nearby alley, hidden in the shadows, a masked man armed with chains and blades lay in wait.
Chu Yumeng's tension spiked.
The camera panned higher.
From above, it became clear: the alley Kenshin was about to walk through intersected with the one where the woman with the umbrella had just passed.
As thunder crashed, the masked man launched a surprise attack — but Kenshin dodged, and the fight began.
The two of them moved like beasts, bouncing off walls, flipping through the air, trading blows on the ground — their expressions and movements full of raw killing intent that practically leapt off the screen.
It was another spectacular battle — the best so far in the episode.
Because for the first time, Kenshin wasn't one-shotting his opponent.
Meanwhile, in the adjacent alley, the woman with the umbrella kept walking, unaware.
The BGM surged toward its peak.
The masked assassin lashed out with his chain, wrapping it around Kenshin.
Then, from above, he dove — blade aimed straight at Kenshin's heart.
Kenshin's expression remained calm, cold as ever.
With a twist of the wrist — so fast Chu Yumeng could barely follow — his forward-held sword flipped into a reverse grip. He twisted his waist, leveraging the chain wrapped around him to yank the assassin toward him.
RIP!
Under the moonlight and rain, two flashes of steel crossed midair.
The assassin's body was sliced clean in two, blood spraying through the rain in an arc that landed…
…right in front of the woman in white.
The music reached its crescendo.
Blood splattered across the umbrella.
Her delicate hand — holding the umbrella — was now stained red.
The woman froze.
Kenshin dropped to one knee, breathing heavily, his eyes still burning with bloodlust.
Then, the wound on his left cheek — the one that never healed — began to bleed again. A trickle ran down his jaw.
He looked up.
In that instant, the killing aura vanished from his face — melting away like snow under the sun.
Standing before him was a woman in a snow-white kimono, now stained with blood, her face as pale as the snow, smeared with red — her eyes calm, cold, and silent.
White plum blossoms dyed in blood.
It was a scene that made Chu Yumeng — and every viewer watching the first episode of Kenshin — shiver.
Violent. Beautiful. Fated.
Two destined enemies meeting for the first time — on a rainy night.
The woman looked at Kenshin, her voice quiet but clear:
"You truly are... a man who brings storms of blood wherever he goes."
Upon hearing her words, Kenshin's expression shifted — for the first time, not cold or ruthless, but confused and afraid.
The bleeding from his cheek intensified.
And the sword in his hand slipped from his grasp.
Chu Yumeng was stunned — but immediately understood.
This woman had seen through Kenshin.
Deep down, he already knew — the vow he once made to his master, to use his sword to protect the weak, had long since lost its meaning.
He was just a tool — unleashing bloodshed in Kyoto, numb, used by others.
And this woman was the first person to speak that truth aloud.
The rain washed the blood from their bodies.
The camera froze.
Their gazes locked.
The ending theme began to play.
For a full ten seconds, no one posted anything in the comments.
Chu Yumeng's heart was pounding.
That final shot... was pure art.
How could a drama carry such a powerful sense of fate?
This is just... insane.
Even after the ending theme ended, Chu Yumeng was still lost in the story.
Her takeout had gone cold.
She didn't care.
She wasn't even thinking about the work she still had to finish.
She opened the Kenshin episode page again and checked the credits.
Two key names stood out:
Screenwriter: Su Yan.
Actor for Kenshin: Su Yan.
Su Yan... who the heck is that?
She searched online, but found no information about him — not in the actor database, not in the screenwriter archives.
"Seriously? A total newcomer's first project?"
How is that even possible?
Chu Yumeng looked genuinely stunned.
'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' wasn't a show for everyone. Some would find its ancient setting, slow pacing, and heavy themes unappealing.
But for those who liked it?
They'd fall in love at first sight.
Chu Yumeng was definitely one of those people — completely smitten.
"Only four episodes total, with one new episode every Monday…"
She gritted her teeth in frustration.
She wanted to leave a comment — something ranty — on the show's page.
But someone had already beaten her to it.
The top liked comment summed up exactly how she felt:
[SakuraNet, are you stupid?! This is a four-episode miniseries — just upload the rest at once! You think I can't afford to watch them?! Weekly release? And the editor/director is clearly brain-dead! Who ends an episode there?! Everyone in the production team — except the actors — is an idiot. Certified.]
Normally, Chu Yumeng didn't support angry online comments.
But this time?
That one spoke straight to her soul.
She took a deep breath, replayed some of Kenshin's most explosive scenes, and finally exited the page.
One glance at the trending list:
'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal', which had originally ranked somewhere beyond 30th…
…after just one hour, had climbed to #13.
After thinking for a moment, Chu Yumeng shared the purchase link to 'Rurouni Kenshin: Trust & Betrayal' in several of her friend groups.
Great stories are meant to be shared.