I am invincible, that's why I lie down. You're using your entire clan to rebel?

Chapter 219: Sister Hong's One Hand for One Night with the Empress?

"His Majesty!!!"

Hong Jie's voice was so shrill it almost tore her throat apart. She frantically crawled towards Qin Mu on her knees and grabbed his leg.

"Your Majesty, you can't do this!! I've always been loyal to you!! I've always served you well!!"

"Whatever you tell me to do, I'll do it!! You tell me to discipline her, I'll discipline her!! I've always been obedient!! Always obedient!!"

"Your Majesty!! I beg you!! Please spare me!! I don't want to be crippled, Your Majesty!!!"

She cried her heart out, tears and snot streaming down her face, and she trembled like a leaf.

Qin Mu looked down at her.

His gaze was indifferent, as indifferent as if he were looking at an ant struggling for its last breath.

"Don't blame me," he said.

The voice was gentle, yet carried a despairing calmness.

"Blame it on—"

He paused, his gaze passing over Sister Hong and landing on the moon-white figure hanging from the beam.

The smile on his lips deepened even further.

"It's all the Empress's fault."

Hongjie's body suddenly stiffened.

She slowly turned her head and looked at Zhao Qingxue.

Those eyes were filled with a deep-seated hatred.

It's you.

You wretched servant girl.

You're the one who ruined me.

You traded yourself for my hand.

It's you—

She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but couldn't utter a word.

Only endless hatred surged in his eyes like a venomous snake.

Yunluan walked out from the corner.

Her movements were very light and slow, like a ghost.

The hem of her dark blue outfit swayed slightly with her steps, and her feet made no sound as she stepped on the floor.

In her hand, she held a rapier of dark silver.

The sword is about two feet long, with a strange dark silver color throughout. The spine of the sword is straight, and the edge is as thin as a cicada's wing.

In the afternoon sunlight, the sword gleamed with a cold, eerie light.

She walked up to Sister Hong and stopped.

Sister Hong looked up at Yunluan.

Looking at that cold, expressionless face.

Looking into those cold, deep, icy eyes.

Looking at the sword in her hand that gleamed with a ghostly light.

Her body trembled even more violently, her lips quivered, and she tried to say something but couldn't utter a single word.

Yunluan did not look at her.

Her gaze fell on Sister Hong's right hand.

That hand had just slapped Zhao Qingxue countless times.

That hand was trembling slightly, its fingertips white with fear.

Yunluan reached out and grabbed the wrist of that hand.

The movements were very light and steady.

Hongjie's body trembled violently, and she instinctively tried to struggle.

But that hand remained motionless, like an iron clamp.

Yunluan straightened that hand and held it out in front of her.

Then--

She raised her other hand.

The slender, dark silver sword slowly descended.

The tip of the sword was pressed against Sister Hong's wrist.

The touch was icy cold, as if it came from hell.

Hongjie's pupils suddenly contracted, her mouth opened wide, and she let out a barely audible, desperate sob.

"No...don't..."

Her voice was hoarse and broken, like a candle flickering in the wind.

Yunluan ignored her.

She only applied a slight force.

The sword tip pierced the skin, and a drop of bright red blood seeped out.

The drop of blood slid down the blade, leaving a thin trail of blood on the dark silver surface.

Sister Hong felt the icy, bone-chilling pain, and felt the sword tip slowly piercing into her wrist.

Her body began to tremble violently, her face was covered in tears and snot, and she made indistinct, beast-like moans.

But Yunluan's hand remained as steady as a rock.

The sword tip continued to penetrate deeper.

Piercing the skin, piercing the muscle, piercing the tendons—

"ah--!!!"

Hongjie finally let out a heart-wrenching scream.

The screams were so piercing and desperate, they seemed to come from the deepest part of hell.

But Yunluan's hands did not stop.

With a flick of her wrist, the sword sliced ​​through all the tendons in her wrist as easily as cutting tofu.

"laugh--"

A soft, tearing sound rang out.

Hongjie's right hand was severed cleanly at the wrist!

Blood gushed out like a flood bursting its banks!

The severed hand fell to the ground, its fingers still twitching slightly, before being engulfed by rapidly spreading blood.

Hongjie's screams abruptly stopped.

Her eyes were wide open and her mouth was agape, but she couldn't make a sound.

He felt as if all his strength had been drained, and he collapsed limply to the ground.

Blood gushed from her severed wrist, quickly spreading into a shocking red pool on the floor of the private room.

Yunluan sheathed her sword.

She turned around, walked to a corner, took out a plain white handkerchief, and slowly wiped away the bloodstains remaining on the sword.

The movements were slow and gentle, as if they had just done something completely ordinary.

Qin Mu leaned back in his chair, his gaze falling on the pool of blood, on Sister Hong's pale face, and on Zhao Qingxue.

The corners of his mouth always held that ambiguous smile.

Zhao Qingxue was hanging under the beam, watching this scene.

Looking at the severed hand, the pool of blood, and Sister Hong's face contorted with pain and fear.

A strange sense of pleasure flashed through her mind.

This kind of pleasure felt unfamiliar to her, yet it also excited and satisfied her.

Sister Hong lay sprawled on the ground, blood still flowing from her severed wrist.

Her eyes slowly moved, finally landing on Zhao Qingxue.

Those eyes were filled with a deep-seated, bone-chilling hatred.

The intensity and fervor of that hatred were enough to send chills down anyone's spine.

When Zhao Qingxue met that gaze, a chill ran through her.

She knew that from now on, this woman would spend the rest of her life hating her.

He will use any means necessary to take revenge on her and torment her.

Qin Mu will have this woman continue to "serve" him.

Continue to destroy what she has left, bit by bit, in this way imbued with deep-seated hatred.

Zhao Qingxue slowly closed her eyes.

A tear finally slid down her cheek.

Tears mingled with the blood on her face, sliding down her swollen cheeks and dripping onto her tattered, moon-white robe, leaving a small, dark stain.

Qin Mu stood up.

He walked up to Zhao Qingxue and stopped.

He reached out and gently lifted her chin.

This forced her to look up at him.

Tears blurred her vision in those deep purple phoenix eyes.

But she still managed to see Qin Mu's face clearly.

That handsome, smiling face that she hated to the core.

"Your Majesty," Qin Mu said softly, his voice as gentle as a spring breeze, "I will be waiting for you tonight."

His fingers gently stroked her chin.

The touch was warm, with a thin callus.

Then, he let go of her hand, turned around, and walked towards the door.

He took two steps, then stopped and looked back at Yunluan.

Yunluan nodded slightly, indicating that she understood.

Qin Mu withdrew his gaze and pushed open the door to leave.

A moon-white robe flashed at the doorway and disappeared at the top of the stairs.

Inside the private room, only Yunluan, Hongjie who was slumped on the ground, and Zhao Qingxue who was hanging from the beam remained.

Sunlight continued to stream in through the window, illuminating the shocking pool of blood.

The bleeding from Sister Hong's severed wrist has gradually stopped.

She remained sprawled on the ground, gasping for breath.

Those eyes never left Zhao Qingxue.

That gaze was as cold as a venomous snake.

Zhao Qingxue closed her eyes and stopped looking at her.

Only one thought remained in my mind—

tonight.

tonight.

She wanted to stay with him for the night.

I'll trade myself for one of Sister Hong's hands.

And how will this man treat her?

she does not know.

I don't even dare to think about it.

I felt like I was walking step by step into an abyss.

And at the bottom of that abyss lies unfathomable darkness.