“Matron, why is Sixth Lady not here?”
“She was separated from us by the rioters on the road. Enough, say no more. Leaving the city is urgent.”
“But…”
“What? Eleventh Lad is the Lord’s only son. Could he possibly be less important than Sixth Lady? Hurry and leave the city. A moment’s delay could cost us our lives.”
“Yes…”
Cui Shu Ruo’s head felt heavy and muddled. Faintly, she heard a conversation between a man and a woman not far away, followed by the rumbling sound of carriage wheels.
After that, her consciousness sank back into darkness.
She had no idea how much time had passed when the sky began to pour with dense rain. Raindrops fell on her eyelids, and Cui Shu Ruo trembled as she slowly opened her eyes. Still somewhat dazed, she pushed aside the objects pressing down on her and sat up groggily, only to hear a cacophony of noise around her.
Finally regaining her senses, her gaze fell upon her surroundings, and a chill rose from the depths of her heart, jolting her fully awake.
Why were there several corpses lying around her? Most had pale, bluish faces and were emaciated, and their clothing clearly looked ancient.
Where was this? She only remembered waiting for the bus on the street after work, and then…
A madman had rushed out, slashing at anyone in sight.
It happened to be just after elementary school let out, with students everywhere. In her panic, she had used her lifelong ability—the Crow’s Mouth—to stop that madman. What happened after that, she couldn’t recall.
Although she possessed the Crow’s Mouth, every time she used it, misfortune would befall her. The more exaggerated the curse, the greater the misfortune.
So, could it be that she had accidentally cursed someone to death, and then truly “died of misfortune” herself?
And then transmigrated into this body.
Before she could think further, a deafening crash echoed as a battering ram struck the heavy city gates. With a loud bang, the gates were breached, and only the corpses of the defenders remained on the city walls.
Rough cheers reached Cui Shu Ruo’s ears. Tall foreigners, dressed in left-lapelled garments, most with small braids in their hair, surged into the city like a tide. The few remaining soldiers were struck by stray arrows from who-knows-where or hacked to death by fierce, towering barbarians.
Cui Shu Ruo had just woken from her coma, with no time to gather her thoughts, and already she was faced with a scene of bloody slaughter.
She huddled among the pile of corpses. Though somewhat hidden on the side and not too conspicuous, someone still noticed her.
A burly, stout soldier with a thick beard approached her. Seeming to notice her fair skin and expensive fabric clothing, which differed from the commoners around her, he eyed her with a lecherous gaze, muttering words Cui Shu Ruo couldn’t understand—certainly nothing good.
As he drew closer step by step, Cui Shu Ruo wanted to run, but her feet were pinned. A damp, hairy hand was about to touch the sash of her robe.
Her body went numb. Without thinking, she blurted out, “Take one more step forward, and you will be pierced to death by a sharp weapon!”
The strong, burly man didn’t understand her words. He chuckled and continued to advance toward her.
Suddenly, the burly man stopped. He looked down at his abdomen, his distinctive braided hair swinging with the motion. The flesh on his face trembled, and his eyes widened in disbelief, as if unable to comprehend why a gleaming longsword had pierced through his body.
Cui Shu Ruo watched as he fell, his cheeks twitching as he spat blood, soon falling completely still.
The immediate threat was resolved, but Cui Shu Ruo remained tense. She knew all too well that although the angle of her squinting gaze had temporarily kept others from spotting her, if those bloodthirsty individuals advanced just a little further or glanced in her direction, her so-called visual advantage would vanish entirely.
In just a few breaths, would she meet the same fate as those hacked to death by random blades—or worse? Judging by the reaction of the Barbarian soldier earlier, whatever happened to those who fell into their hands…
It was easy to imagine.
Without time to think further, Cui Shu Ruo trembled as she carefully opened her mouth, murmuring in a voice only she could hear, “If you keep standing behind the gate, you’ll be crushed to death by the suddenly collapsing door.”
Her words seemed to carry a magical force. The city gate, which should have been sturdy and reliable, reinforced with large copper nails, suddenly shook and, in the next moment, crashed straight to the ground.
The change happened in an instant. The Barbarian soldiers who had already charged into the city had no time to react before they were crushed to death by the over-ten-meter-high gate. Those at the edges of the thick wooden door tried to crawl out, but it was impossible. They could only struggle and howl in agony.
The heavy city gate, crafted from the finest Red pine, had long since faded from weathering, now covered in mottled impact marks and bloodstains. It existed to defend against foreign invasions, and the mangled, bloodied bodies beneath it represented its final, desperate resistance.
But it was clearly effective. The previously high-spirited Barbarian soldiers, eager to rush into the city to loot and slaughter, seemed momentarily stunned.
Such a sudden turn of events felt like a warning from the heavens—extremely ominous. They scattered like frightened birds and beasts, chattering in incomprehensible tongues, panic-stricken.
Cui Shu Ruo finally had a chance to catch her breath. Trembling, she forced herself to take a deep breath, wondering if she should seize this opportunity to flee. But just then, the overseers behind them whipped several retreating Barbarian soldiers, driving the others forward again.
This was the first time Cui Shu Ruo had used her Crow’s Mouth to cause so many deaths, but there was no room for fear. As she watched these Barbarians, two words surfaced from the deep-seated terror in her original body’s memories:
“Hu people”
“Two-legged sheep”
Even a fool would know how terrifying this situation was. If she fell into the hands of this Hu army, she wouldn’t even have the chance to become a violated corpse. Instead, she would be treated like livestock—lined up for violation at night and carved for meat as food during the day.
Extreme fear, however, ignited Cui Shu Ruo’s hidden potential. Gritting her teeth, she continued, “All the Hu soldiers I can see will slip and fall hard on the blood if they take another step forward.”
As soon as she spoke, the Hu soldiers forced forward collectively lost their footing, falling face-first into the mud. The luckier ones bruised their foreheads and tasted dirt, while the unluckiest even chipped their teeth.
If the sudden collapse of the city gate could still be dismissed as a coincidence, this incident almost certainly confirmed something was amiss.
The fierce Hu people also believed in ghosts and gods. Those who had witnessed everything from the front couldn’t help but retreat step by step, some even wanting to withdraw. Others made strange gestures, likely praying to their own deities.
But the intimidation before them could hardly affect those supervising the battle from behind. Seeing signs of the troops scattering, the supervisors swiftly raised their blades and killed several who attempted to retreat.
Thus, even if those in front were terrified, under the tangible threat of death, they could only continue advancing.
Cui Shu Ruo realized that merely injuring the Hu people at the forefront might not suffice. After the previous two attempts, her head throbbed unbearably, and her body endured pain akin to being torn apart. The Crow’s Mouth came with a cost; she didn’t know when she might collapse from unbearable agony.
Therefore, she must find another method.
Cui Shu Ruo endured the pain, striving to recall, and finally a flash of inspiration struck. Shivering, she suppressed the metallic taste rising in her throat and said, “The Hu general attacking outside the city, if he does not retreat, will be struck by birds and beasts falling from high above.”
The next moment, a dark shadow flashed across the sky, something plummeted down with lightning speed. Though far away, Cui Shu Ruo couldn’t hear the sound of impact, but she noticed sudden chaos erupting at the rear of the Hu army.
This unknown disturbance finally halted the Hu forces.
Yet Cui Shu Ruo had completely lost the strength to flee; she couldn’t even stand up. She could only muster her last shred of consciousness to mutter incessantly, causing nearby Hu soldiers to fall victim to various bizarre misfortunes, hoping to thoroughly intimidate them.
As her consciousness gradually faded, Cui Shu Ruo failed to notice that the small-scale chaos suddenly escalated, and the battlefield began to fill with sounds of slaughter.
After a while, Cui Shu Ruo was exhausted, her cheeks aching sorely. Moreover, her entire body suffered intense pain, and she lacked even the strength to open her mouth.
Without the obstruction of the Crow’s Mouth, Hu soldiers stealthily approached.
Just then, Cui Shu Ruo heard the sound of a blade slicing through air and flesh tearing open.
Then, with a thud, the Hu soldier who had just approached Cui Shu Ruo fell to the ground, blood flooding the area.
She opened her eyes, lifting her head with difficulty. A young general in white robes, wielding a red-tasseled spear and fighting on horseback, stood tall before her. Blood spots from slain enemies splattered on his face, remnants of killing intent lingered in his eyes, yet it did not diminish his handsome appearance. Instead, under the glow of blood and the setting sun, he appeared as radiant as polished jade, like a sharp blade unsheathed, exuding brilliance and spirited ease.
But when dealing with the Hu people, he raised his spear and struck down, its sharp tip easily claiming their lives.
Clearly, though extremely young, he was seasoned on the battlefield, indifferent to human life, and unmatched in bravery; otherwise, he could not gallop ahead alone, fighting single-handedly.
Across the field littered with corpses, Cui Shu Ruo met his gaze.
She didn’t know what he would do, nor whether she would be rescued or… face a worse fate.
While Cui Shu Ruo felt anxious, the young general sat on his horse, his aura akin to the blazing sun. Wearing bright armor, he stood robust and upright, with sharp, piercing features. He flashed a brilliant smile of white teeth toward Cui Shu Ruo, asking, “Are you well, lady?”
Cui Shu Ruo struggled even to lift her head, but her tense heart eased slightly, breathing half a sigh of relief—it seemed she would be saved.
She forced a smile toward Wei Cheng Huai, yet clearly felt her stamina had reached its limit. Perhaps the next moment she would faint outright; she must seize this opportunity.
Cui Shu Ruo used her last ounce of strength, but her words still came out fragmented, “Hu… Hu people, Luoyang… Luoyang…”
Before she could finish speaking, she fainted.
Yet, just as her consciousness began to sink into darkness, she heard not only the expected anxious inquiries from the other person but also a sharp, piercing reminder echoing in her mind.
“Lifespan insufficient! Lifespan insufficient!”
“Lifespan remaining: one day!”
With no time to think further, she fell into a deep, exhausted slumber.