Chapter 61

Chapter 61

A lunatic—the man before her was nothing short of a complete madman, a pervert.

Shen Anning was momentarily stunned by his sudden words, her soul startled and spirit wary, and equally terrified by his insane behavior, her heart, liver, and gall chilled, her spirit utterly shattered.

For a moment, she thought she was hallucinating, that he must be joking with her.

Soul transference ritual? Resurrection? Rebirth?

What kind of absurd and ridiculous nonsense was this?

Was this man joking, or did he truly believe such things?

How could the dead possibly come back to life?

And reassembling a new body, growing a new soul?

Was this man insane, or had he sunk so deep into delusions and fantasies that he could no longer distinguish reality from fiction? Had he gone mad from acting in too many operas?

Because these sudden, absurd claims were so unexpected and so outrageous, Shen Anning was left so stunned she couldn’t recover for a long time.

After the initial absurdity came fear and horror, washing over her one after another.

If he were a normal person, she might have been able to reason with him, but if he was a lunatic from the start, a pervert, someone already mentally unsound, how could she possibly deal with him?

Just as Shen Anning was utterly creeped out and her mind in turmoil, his slick hand happened to slide down to her neck. He gently stroked it inch by inch, then slowly closed his five fingers around it, suddenly gripping her entire throat.

Her throat was suddenly and effortlessly restrained in his grasp.

Just as Shen Anning thought he was about to snap her neck, his movements turned exceptionally gentle and careful. He held her neck and softly reassured her, "But don’t worry, sister. You and I have no grudges between us. I will be very careful and not hurt you."

He spoke with gentle, soft words.

After saying this, he suddenly released her neck as lightly as a feather.

Then he stood up, picked up a candlestick nearby, turned back to the center of the stage, and resumed his unfinished task—sewing together the dismembered corpse.

In that moment when he had approached her earlier, even though he hadn’t used much force—in fact, his touch had been gentle and careful—Shen Anning’s entire neck felt as if it had been violently strangled. She was gasping for air, barely breathing in, and nearly suffocated to death.

It wasn’t until he moved away that Shen Anning finally gasped for air like a drowning fish, able to breathe deeply again.

After that terrifying ordeal, she slumped onto the cold stage, unable to regain her composure for a long time.

She had died once before; she wasn’t that afraid of death. Yet, in that moment, she realized there were things far more terrifying than death in this world, and people far more horrifying than ghosts.

That was silent torment and torture.

Shen Anning didn’t know what the owners of those six dismembered remains in the distance had experienced before their deaths. If she had suffered so much, what about them? They had likely been tormented inch by inch, their bodies and minds destroyed, before dying in despair.

If she had felt even a sliver of sympathy for this perverted demon earlier, now, in this moment, Shen Anning felt nothing but disgust and loathing for him.

To think that after living a second life, with memories of two lifetimes, she would end up dying such a brutal death—was this the price of living an extra life?

For a moment, Shen Anning closed her eyes in despair.

Yet, the will to survive is perhaps human instinct. Even in desperate situations, even when Lu Anran had smothered her to death in her previous life, she had struggled and cried for help with all her might. Now, after a moment of despair, Shen Anning gritted her teeth and quickened her movements.

It turned out that Shen Anning wore a gold filigree carved phoenix bracelet on her left wrist. The bracelet was exquisitely crafted and intricate, but it also concealed a hidden mechanism.

Perhaps because she had experienced life and death, she had become more cautious. Not long after her rebirth, Shen Anning had commissioned this bracelet, secretly installing a small mechanism in its clasp. Inside the mechanism was a half-finger-long, thin blade. Unexpectedly, it had become her only chance of escape.

According to what this devil had said earlier, his perverted ritual wouldn’t begin until midnight. Since he was still sewing the corpse, it meant she still had a chance to save herself.

She had been missing for most of the day, and Lu Suian still hadn’t found her. Princess Fuyang’s brutal death in her previous life was a fact, so Shen Anning couldn’t possibly pin her slim hope of escape on someone else.

She could only save herself.

She had lived an extra life; she refused to believe that fate had granted her this second chance only for her to die for no reason.

With this thought, Shen Anning forced herself to calm down bit by bit.

Then, she pulled out the blade and began painstakingly sawing at the rope binding her wrists.

Because her hands were tied very tightly, she could only grip the blade with her fingers in an awkward, reversed position. The blade cut into her wrists multiple times, blood streaming down, but she didn’t dare stop.

After what felt like an eternity, the focused figure in the distance finally stopped what he was doing, and a bright moon had quietly climbed to the top of the sky.

Finally, after admiring his handiwork with satisfaction, Li Yu picked up the candlestick again and walked step by step toward Shen Anning. This time, he was also holding a brand-new axe.

Watching his leisurely, stroll-like steps and the gleaming axe sharp enough to cut iron, Shen Anning’s face turned deathly pale.

She propped herself up with her hands behind her and began squirming backward like a silkworm pupa, inch by inch. Her face was drained of color as she screamed in panic at the demonic figure, "What about me? They were all your enemies. You had reasons to harm them. But what about me? What grudge do you have against me? Why are you targeting me for no reason?"

Shen Anning scrambled backward, trying to escape while screaming hysterically and questioning.

But with her hands bound, how far could she possibly go?

In just a moment, Li Yu caught up to her. He easily grabbed one of her legs and slowly dragged her from the edge of the stage back to the center. Then, he crouched down and smiled at her, saying, "Sister, you are kind-hearted and have no grudges with me. But what can I do? I originally planned to target Princess Fuyang. Although Princess Fuyang’s face isn’t as beautiful as yours, it still has a noble quality. But you had to interfere. This is all your own doing—"

As he spoke, Li Yu glanced at the distant moon, as if regretful, and said, "The time is almost here. There’s nothing I can do—"

With that, he dragged her by the foot until she was lying beneath him. Then, he gently stroked her face and comforted her softly, "But your face is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. Don’t be afraid, sister. I’ll make it quick and ensure you don’t suffer."

He smiled slightly and added, "In the future, I will live on wearing your face. I will take good care of it, so you can consider your death worthwhile."

After saying this, Li Yu’s hand moved to Shen Anning’s neck, as if measuring its size, contemplating how to proceed.

His damp fingers felt poisonous wherever they touched, making her flesh crawl, layer upon layer trembling.

After confirming the position, Li Yu considerately covered her eyes with his hand and said with a faint smile, "Rest in peace, sister."

Then, he turned to pick up the axe beside him.

In the moment he turned his head, the terrified Shen Anning finally freed her hands, pulled out a phoenix hairpin from her hair, widened her eyes, and shouted fiercely, "Die—"

With a swift motion, she thrust the hairpin deep into Li Yu’s neck.

With a spurt, blood gushed from Li Yu’s body as her action landed.

Shen Anning was horrified—she had killed someone. She had killed a person.

Terrified and panicked, she scrambled backward, rolling and crawling to escape. But whether it was because she had been bound for too long or the drug had left her feeling weak and lightheaded, she stumbled and fell to the ground multiple times.

But when she looked up again, the fiend across from her did not crumple to the ground as expected. Instead, he suddenly raised his hand to tightly cover the wound, then fixed her with a savage, murderous glare.

He wasn’t dead?

Shen Anning stared in horror and only then noticed that the place he was clutching tightly was actually his collarbone.

She had missed.

Even though blood gushed like a waterfall,

He stood rooted like a mountain.

He wasn’t dead?

The moment this thought crossed her mind, Shen Anning trembled as she shifted her gaze, and her terrified eyes met a pair of blood-red pits like twin abysses.

This time, those pools were sinister and pitiless, devoid of any trace of gentleness or kindness.

She saw him glaring at her with pure malice.

His face was twisted, his whole body twitching, blood staining half of him. He looked like a demon dragged up from hell's depths to claim her life.

He raised the axe high, staring fixedly at her, advancing on her step by step. As he walked, his face twitched, his features contorted, and he gritted his teeth, hissing through clenched teeth: "So, you too are a poisonous snake!"

"You have a scorpion’s heart, far more despicable and deserving of death than those whores!"

"Bitch, venomous woman, burn in hell with them!"

The moment death truly arrived, fear spread through her entire body, reaching its extreme—

At that moment, Shen Anning could only watch, paralyzed, as he swung the axe high.

At that moment, Shen Anning could only watch, paralyzed, as his contorted, monstrous face advanced toward her step by step.

Her eyes were filled with a crimson fog, nothing but the torn, distorted reflection of the demon.

At that moment, she collapsed weakly to the ground, forgetting to dodge, to struggle, to scream, even to close her eyes.

Like a statue, frozen and dazed, she stared blankly, watching as the sharp axe blade swung toward her neck.

Unexpectedly, at the moment when her life should have ended, a swift wind brushed past her ears, followed by a whistling sound—

The pain she had anticipated never came.

It wasn’t until some time later that she slowly emerged from her dazed state and belatedly realized a magnified, corpse-pale face had suddenly appeared before her eyes. The face was ghastly white and twisted, his eyes wide open, blood-red eyes seemingly about to fall from their sockets.

This face… this face was actually that of the murderous fiend!

And now, this demon stood motionless like a statue.

At some point, a sharp arrow had already impaled through his neck.

This person, this person had actually been impaled through the throat!

This horrifying, ghastly face hung suspended in mid-air for a moment before plummeting straight toward Shen Anning.

Finally, Shen Anning couldn’t hold back a piercing scream of pure terror. She desperately kicked her feet, trying to escape, to hide, but found her entire body had gone limp, with no escape, no refuge.

Just as that terrifying face was about to crash into her, suddenly a dark figure materialized like a gust of wind. That face was kicked away, flying more than a dozen steps before landing heavily on the ground.

At the same time, her eyes were firmly covered by a large, comforting hand, shielding her from all the bloodshed and horror in the distance.

Then, a heavy wool cloak was flung into the air and landed steadily on her, tightly wrapping her icy, shivering body. Immediately after, she, along with the thick cloak, was entirely enveloped by a powerful force. Two arms, unbreakable iron, pinned her entire body into a broad, robust embrace—

"Madam—"

By the time Shen Anning came to her senses, her entire person, her whole body, her face, everything had been firmly protected within an impenetrable net, isolating her from all external danger and harm.

"I came too late."

Someone had, at some point, vaulted onto the stage, kicked the corpse away, and tightly embraced the trembling Shen Anning in his arms.

That person held her whole body in his embrace, crushing her against him so forcefully, so tightly.

"With me here, Madam, do not fear."

That person held her and spoke with a hoarse voice.

As he spoke, his whole body trembled slightly, and the arms holding her seemed to swell with tension.

That person held her tightly, his chin pressed firmly against the top of her head. He pressed her into his embrace, as if trying to meld her entirely into his very bones and blood.

That person whispered reassurances in her ear, over and over again.

Her eardrums were struck by the low, trembling voice. That person’s voice was so unfamiliar, yet so familiar.

It was Lu Suian.

Lu Suian had actually come to save her.

He was like an avenging angel descended from heaven, shattering through the darkness, through the thorns, through all the cold and danger, appearing so vividly before her.

At her most perilous and desperate moment.

The moment this realization reached her heart, her hands tightly clutched the front of his robe.

Shen Anning barely raised her head, barely opened her eyes, managed one blurred glimpse of a familiar, anxious face swaying slightly in her vision before she threw herself into his embrace. She held him tightly too, trembling within this unshakable fortress of his chest. Before long, all the strength she had mustered throughout the entire day was finally completely drained at this moment.

Lu Suian looked down and saw that his wife, Lady Shen, had lost consciousness in his arms. Gritting his teeth, he barked to those outside, "Call the doctor," then firmly picked her up and strode urgently from the scene.