The courtyard was shrouded in silence, yet beneath that silence lay the residue of violence. Broken ice vines melted into pale mist, scorched wood exhaled faint threads of smoke, and the scent of blood lingered like a stubborn ghost unwilling to disperse.
On the wooden floor of the residence, Meng Ruyan lay collapsed.
Her lower body had been severed cleanly at the waist. Blood seeped outward in slow streams, staining the planks beneath her as though the ground itself sought to drink her life away. Yet the pain in her body was nothing compared to the fracture within her heart.
Her eyes were wide, fixed upon the youth before her, not with hatred, not yet, but with a soul crushing disbelief that seemed to hollow her from within.
"Why... Kai... why?" Her lips quivered, her voice hoarse and fragile as a candle in the wind.
Meng Kai lay nearby.
