The Cold and Pure-hearted Killer: I Swear on My Life, I Won’t Let Anyone Harm Her
The Netherworld Hall had long arranged everything—a game beyond even Xue Ningshuo’s ability to perceive.
All was ready, save for one crucial role, the most important piece.
The blade that would strike the emperor had to come from a top-tier killer—powerful enough, single-minded, unafraid of death.
If it failed, the responsibility absolutely could not fall upon the Netherworld Hall.
Thus, this top killer had to come from another organization, preferably one openly opposed to the Netherworld Hall.
The best choice was the Blood-Severing Pavilion.
As for Xue Ningshuo, he didn’t need to know so much about the tangled forces behind the Netherworld Hall, the division between the new emperor’s faction and the old emperor’s.
He only needed to know that the new emperor’s faction had struck a deal with him—one killer, in exchange for the Blood-Severing Pavilion’s future stability.
It was truly a profitable bargain.
Xue Ningshuo’s choice required little thought.
Fang Yunmo, the Blood-Severing Pavilion’s top killer, had a clean background, and most importantly, he had a weakness firmly in Xue Ningshuo’s grasp.
To allow Fang Xun’gui to cleanly break away from the Blood-Severing Pavilion, Fang Yunmo was willing to die.
Everything made sense now.
Fang Xun’gui slowly exhaled, but his mind was blank.
If this was the truth.
If this was the “truth” he had pursued for nine years.
Absurd beyond belief, yet simple to the extreme, and utterly logical.
Why had Fang Yunmo believed from the start that this was a mission from which there was no return?
Why did it have to be Severing Cloud?
Why had Xue Ningshuo never hindered his search for the truth?
Because even if he found it, what could he do?
Everything was settled.
Yet Fang Xun’gui couldn’t muster any reaction.
He thought he should be in agony, or furious—perhaps even laugh in extreme anger?
But there was nothing. All emotions in his heart had been drained, leaving only his unfocused, vacant gaze lingering on Yuyi Yue’s face.
“So Xue Ningshuo was right. There is no truth, only a simple fact.”
Fang Xun’gui said woodenly, “My brother took on a mission to the imperial city, and thus the imperial city fell into turmoil… So I had mistaken cause and effect all along.”
His fingertips trembled uncontrollably; forcing himself to calm down was impossible.
Fine, this was the truth.
His brother died in a royal upheaval—in fact, his brother was the very spark that ignited it.
What a grand mission, changing the world overnight, yet no one dared speak of it again.
And then?
Fang Xun’gui stared into Yuyi Yue’s eyes, and a sorrow that nearly overwhelmed him suddenly surged in his heart.
She was too clever, piecing together the answer he hadn’t found in nine years with just a few words.
And what had he brought her? Endless turmoil from this moment on.
After uncovering the cause of Fang Yunmo’s death, what should he do next?
Fang Xun’gui finally realized how naively he had thought of everything.
Well, you’ve found the truth. It’s all over.
Now pay the price for your arrogance and pride.
Revenge? What revenge? How to take revenge? Should he assassinate the emperor like Fang Yunmo?
Then go kill Xue Ningshuo, and then the mysterious master of the Netherworld Hall.
And then, Yan Zuoxiu and Yuyi Yue would both die before his eyes.
He couldn’t protect anything.
Fang Xun’gui suddenly laughed, his eyes devoid of life.His gaze was empty as he looked up at Yuyi Yue and said:
“Hate me.”
The Netherworld Hall would not care whether he and she had found the truth.
They would only eliminate the root of the problem.
This matter required no evidence—even before Fang Xun’gui realized it, it had already become an unchangeable fact that would occur in the future.
In at most two years, perhaps even sooner, Xue Ningshuo would cast him, this hot potato, out of the Blood-Severing Pavilion.
By then, even if Fang Xun’gui fought with his life, he would not be able to protect Yuyi Yue’s life while facing the Netherworld Hall alone.
He had ultimately harmed her.
Yuyi Yue reached out, covering Fang Xun’gui’s cold hand and gripping it tightly.
There was not a trace of panic in her eyes, and her voice was deliberately softened:
“I don’t hate you. I have no reason to hate you.”
“I harmed you.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“I harmed you…”
Fang Xun’gui used all his strength but could only repeat these words.
He had muddled through all these years, never expecting that the hardships along the way were only meant to repeat the same mistakes.
Fang Yunmo had exchanged a mission with no return for Fang Xun’gui’s future.
And Fang Xun’gui, for his own absurd obsession, had sacrificed Yuyi Yue’s future.
He asked himself if he had ever regretted it, and the answer remained no.
He did not regret betting his life for the truth—this life had been saved by Fang Yunmo in the first place, and at worst, he could simply return it to him.
But he regretted choosing that inconspicuous, desolate courtyard on that rainy night.
The moonlight was bright, illuminating his disheveled, dust-covered figure.
A warm sensation touched his cheek, and only when he looked up did he realize his vision had long blurred.
Yuyi Yue wiped away a tear that had unconsciously fallen from the corner of Fang Xun’gui’s eye with her thumb, her gaze sorrowful:
“Why say you harmed me when you’ve done nothing wrong?”
He was merely forged into a ruthless blade by Xue Ningshuo’s design—why should he not be allowed to have his own obsessions and emotions?
But Fang Xun’gui choked on his words, unable to utter a single sentence.
What could he do? Even if there was the slightest possibility, how could he protect her life?
The Blood-Severing Pavilion’s influence was deeply entrenched in the martial world, while the Netherworld Hall was inextricably linked to the imperial court.
Even if he fought with his life, he could not topple either of them.
If he died, could Yuyi Yue survive? If he delivered his own life into the hands of the Youming Hall Master, would he spare Yuyi Yue?
At that moment, Fang Xun’gui inappropriately recalled what Yuyi Yue had once said—
If you like someone enough to give your life for them, that is love.
So it was love.
Something he had never dared to hope for in this lifetime had descended upon him in his darkest hour.
Of all times, it had to be now. Of all people, it had to be her.
He had hesitated time and again, seeking a sliver of luck, clinging to a trace of warmth, until those indescribable emotions finally entangled tightly between them, weaving their fates into a cocoon.
At the very moment when he should have been heartless, Fang Xun’gui finally had no choice but to admit it.
He had long loved her to the bone.
And apart from a vague, empty apology, he had no right to say anything more.
Especially those three words he least deserved to utter: “I love you.”
Love and guilt intertwined, simmering into the thickest pain, sealing Fang Xun’gui’s throat before transforming into the most useless tears, sliding from the corner of his eye onto her fingertip.Yuyi Yue patiently caught the teardrops filled with confusion and despair, then patiently waited for Fang Xun’gui to process everything.
Nine years had passed. Suddenly learning the truth, then suddenly being assaulted by the cruel reality—Fang Xun’gui deserved some time to digest it all.
After all, once the truth was revealed, how to face it was what mattered most.
Moreover, the cruelty Fang Xun’gui had to confront went beyond this.
…
[Master, did you really not use points to exchange for story plot analysis? How did you guess it?!]
[Because I still have some intelligence.]
[As expected of you!]
[There is still one year and three months until Fang Xun’gui turns twenty-five and leaves the Blood-Severing Pavilion.]
[Yes, Master.]
[Less than a year and a half… It’s a bit of a pity, but it’s enough.]
[Master, what are you planning to do this time?]
[This time, I don’t plan to do anything. I just want to stay by his side, at least for this year and three months, to accompany him.]
Yuyi Yue leaned forward and gently pressed a kiss onto Fang Xun’gui’s forehead.
She whispered softly:
“I will die, won’t I?”
Fang Xun’gui’s eyes remained tightly shut, but his tears stopped at these words.
His voice was hoarse, as if making a promise to Yuyi Yue, or as if etching these words deep into his soul:
“I won’t let anyone harm you.”
He would swear by his life, sparing no cost.