Himmlischer König

Kapitel 41

"Yes, Lotus will obey the sect leader's orders!"

It was as if a thunderclap had exploded in his ears!

Murong Yin's composure was shattered in an instant; his entire body, every inch of his skin, was as cold as snow.

Behind him, the slow footsteps drew nearer. He knew them so well, because every morning, in his study, he would unconsciously wait to hear… these very footsteps…

The owner of these footsteps would smile gently and happily every morning, bringing him a bowl of lotus seed soup that she had personally cooked.

Every night, she would go to his side as he slept at his desk and drape a warm coat over him.

He finally turned around, trembling.

When his clear pupils reflected the pale, thin girl dressed in white, a crimson hue appeared on his face, like fresh blood.

The world seemed to go mad in an instant.

Lotus stood before him.

But at this moment, Lianhua was no longer the helpless, pitiful orphan girl. Her face, though pale, was the color of ice.

Her figure was still thin, yet it exuded a chilling coldness.

Her long, jet-black hair fell down from her cheeks, and a thin silver ribbon tied at the top of her head reflected a frosty chill in the moonlight.

Murong Yin stared at her blankly.

His dry throat tasted of something metallic and sweet, yet a raging fire seemed to be burning in his chest.

Lotus walked past him expressionlessly.

She walked straight to Ye Chuhan, knelt on one knee, and presented the Nine Kings Jade, a priceless treasure, to him with both hands.

"Sect Master, Lotus has lived up to your expectations and retrieved the Nine Kings Jade from Murong Manor."

Ye Chuhan smiled gently, extended her slender fingers, and leisurely hooked the nine-jade lotus flower, then bent down and affectionately helped it up.

His fingers gently caressed her slightly cool cheek, his eyes filled with an unusual tenderness. "My dear lotus, you've really had a hard time this time."

Lotus's face was completely expressionless.

Ye Chuhan's voice drifted softly past her ear, her laughter as sweet as a flower, "Tell me, what should I do with Murong Yin? This Thirteenth Young Master must hate you to the core now, right?"

His voice was incredibly gentle.

Lotus turned around.

Directly in front of her was a lone figure in bright yellow brocade robes standing in the night wind not far away.

The moment their eyes met again, it felt as if they had gone through several reincarnations, and he could no longer recognize her.

Murong Yin stared at her, his handsome face gradually turning pale. He couldn't utter a word. Fragrant blossoms fell, landing on his jade crown, shoulders, and robes…

His bright yellow sleeves fluttered in the wind as the disciples of the Tianshan Snow Sect approached him, their gleaming blades reflecting his face, ready to pierce his body at any moment.

He remained silent, gazing intently at the lotus flower.

Lotus suddenly turned her head away, avoiding his gaze.

Ye Chuhan narrowed her beautiful, fox-like eyes slightly, her slender fingers silently admiring the Nine Kings Jade in her hand. "Murong Yin, you have been utterly defeated."

Clang—

Zhan Yu drew his Azure Nether Sword, its blade gleaming with a chilling azure light, and pointed it at Murong Yin, shouting, "Kneel down!"

Murong Yin remained motionless, his eyes fixed on a lotus flower standing beside Ye Chuhan. Hot blood surged through his body, making his eardrums throb.

The disciples of the Tianshan Snow Sect pounced on him fiercely and grabbed his arm.

Murong Yin silently endured, refusing to kneel down even at the cost of his life. His clear eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at the pure white lotus figure.

Those people tried to make him kneel on the ground, but he had such great strength out of nowhere that no matter how many people or how many hands there were, they could not make him kneel down.

Zhan Yu waved his hand indifferently.

Murong Yin's arms were immediately lifted up, and two disciples of the Tianshan Snow Sect stood on either side of him, holding heavy, silver-infused ebony staffs high in their hands.

Zhan Yu's voice was as cold and hard as iron, "Murong Yin, will you kneel or not?!"

Murong Yin, however, remained silent, gazing intently at the lotus flower.

His heart seemed to ache to the extreme, his body was stiff and numb, and as he looked at her pale, almost transparent skin, he felt a strange, snow-like coldness.

Zhan Yu coldly ordered, "Make your move!"

The heavy, hard ebony staff, without hesitation, carrying a power capable of shattering everything in the world, slammed down hard on Murong Yin's legs.

Even at that moment, he stared blankly at the lotus flower, dressed in white as snow.

A dull thud echoed in the night sky as a knee was shattered.

He didn't make a sound.

Murong Yin's body collapsed forward limply onto the cold grass. As that piercing pain pierced his body and took over his nerves, he lost all feeling in his legs.

His legs were broken at the knees, and blood gushed out like a stream, soaking the grass... His lips had already been bitten open, and the metallic smell of blood filled his mouth.

Black hair fluttered in the night breeze...