"Fang Xing, have you really betrayed us?"
As Xue Lingtu raised the butcher's knife, all the Fuyao disciples were overwhelmed with grief and despair. It wasn't just because of the impending drop of the blade, but because of the suspicion in their hearts. At this point, they weren't afraid of death; they were only afraid of dying for someone who had betrayed Tianyuan. Such a death would be utterly meaningless. Among these people, none felt more tormented than Mu Xiaqing. In the throes of her first stirrings of emotion, she was nearly consumed by despair, silently weeping.
Seeing the blade about to fall, her spirits plummeted to the depths.
Feelings of self-blame, regret, and confusion all churned within her, making her heart tighten painfully at that moment.
All she wanted now was to answer the question weighing on the minds of her fellow Fuyao Palace disciples who ventured with her, but she found herself unable to respond.
