Chun's scalp screamed with a burning, tearing pain as she was yanked back, her body forced into an impossible bend.
Before she could even regain balance, the assassin's arm lashed again.
Her face slammed into the mud and gravel. The impact split her forehead in an instant, and blood ran down over her brow, stinging her eyes until everything was a blur of red.
Her body convulsed in pain, but before a scream could escape, the assassin's knee pressed down.
Precisely,
ruthlessly,
against the back of her neck.
Her breathing was half-choked. Her hands slammed against the ground, nails cracking, blood mixing with mud.
She arched her back and fell again, thrashing like a dying fish.
The assassin chuckled low, muffled behind his mask.
"Interesting… the more you struggle, the more I want to see how long you can hold on."
His knee pressed slower now.
She made tiny, strangled gurgling sounds. Her face turned a deep purple, tears and blood streaming together.
The assassin's patience was a taut string ready to snap.
Not far off, Wei stumbled forward, running.
"Let her go!"
In that instant, only one thought filled his mind:
Hold on.
Wait for me.
If the enemy demanded him to kneel, drop his weapon, trade places, he would have done it.
Anything.
Just so long as she lived.
The bridge swayed violently beneath him.
The more he panicked, the more missteps came.
He missed a step—
half his body dangling over the edge of the narrow wooden bridge.
His palm scraped along the rough rope, skin tearing instantly. Blood dripped between his fingers.
Below him, the abyss roiled in darkness.
Wei gripped the rope with all he had. Only the wind and his own ragged breathing filled his ears.
The bridge swayed again.
A faint tearing sound came from the rope.
A single fiber snapped.
It was like the last thread holding his courage had been cut.
Suddenly, he realized the truth.
He might not make it.
He could be hanging there, helpless, watching her die.
His chest collapsed—
not in pain, but emptiness,
as if something had been ripped out from inside him.
"Don't…"
The word forced itself out of his throat.
It wasn't an order. Not a threat.
It was a plea.
He looked down at the abyss.
And suddenly understood something—
He had never been a match for fate.
He was a useless man.
He could control nothing.
If the bridge broke first?
He wouldn't even deserve to stand before her.
On the other side, the bone blade still hovered.
Chun's face pressed to the mud. Motionless.
A ridiculous thought flashed through his mind—
Had she already stopped hearing him?
Whether he came or not, she wouldn't know.
At that moment, all the last threads of his rationality snapped.
His forehead pressed against the rope. His shoulders shook violently. Like a man who had lost everything.
"Please…"
His voice was hoarse, almost a whisper.
"Let her go."
He had never lowered himself like this. Never begged anyone.
But now—
Pride, honor, life—
they meant nothing.
As long as she lived.
The bridge swayed violently again.
His knuckles went white. Blood ran down the rope.
He let out a sudden, tiny laugh.
Cold. Hollow.
"If you want to kill her… you'll have to take me too."
He surged forward—
not climbing back onto the bridge, but dragging his half-hanging body toward the far side.
The rope bit into his wounds.
He felt like a string ripped apart. Completely torn.
"I said—"
His voice exploded like madness.
"Let her go!"
The bridge roared beneath him. The wind screamed.
The bone blade hovered above her.
Her consciousness had already been shredded by pain. The smell of mud and iron, the choke of the knee pressed into her throat, every breath scraping through stones.
She couldn't hear anything far away. The bridge swayed. The wind screamed. Everything felt muffled, as if submerged underwater.
Darkness rose inch by inch.
And suddenly, she felt a deep, overwhelming weariness.
Near death, it wasn't fear.
It was exhaustion.
Her body relaxed bit by bit. Her fingers stopped struggling.
But in her mind, the shadow of the wasteland she had been tilling appeared.
The patch of earth she had turned over three times.
The first wild fruit seed she had planted.
She had yet to see it bear fruit. The rabbits were still too small.
She had promised herself—
once crops could grow in that soil, she would tell Wei her family secret. Quietly, even if his parents had forbidden it.
Her consciousness sank lower.
Maybe she wouldn't make it.
Then—
A roar tore through the wind.
"Let her go!"
It cut through the night like a blade, slicing into her chaotic awareness.
She recognized the voice.
Even hoarse and distorted.
Even as if wrung from blood itself.
It was him.
She tried to open her eyes.
Couldn't.
And then, suddenly, she understood something.
He was fighting with everything. Not standing on the shore, not calmly negotiating.
He was gambling with his life.
Her chest jolted sharply. Not from pain, but from breath.
Like a drowning person gasping for air.
No. She couldn't die. Not now. Not while he was watching.
If she died here, he would remember it for the rest of his life.
A strange thought crossed her mind. Actually… this is kind of good.
Her fingertips twitched slightly in the mud.
The assassin did not notice.
Her consciousness still fell.
But the roar was like a lifeline, pulling her from the dark.
"…Wei."
Almost no sound. Only a faint rasp.
But she tried.
She could not let that collapse become her last word.
The bone blade still hovered above.
The assassin's eyes widened.
He saw not her despair, but the body that should have been unconscious.
Her fingertips, clutching the mud, tightening once again.