"Fool, you haven't fully recovered your memory after all? Two of the three golden needles have clearly loosened." The Pope laughed, his finger resting on the last golden needle on the top of his head. "The destruction of the Moga clan, so much bloodshed, you've forgotten it all? So, it turns out your betrayal of me wasn't for revenge, but entirely because of your own ambition..."
Tong suddenly looked up, a fierce light flashing in his blood-red eyes.
The Moka clan!
The title Xue Ziye had mentioned was clearly uttered from the King's mouth. In an instant, he could hardly feel the pain in his body anymore. Instead, a tearing sensation spread from his heart, making him tremble all over.
"So it really is..." The person who had been silent finally spoke in a low, hoarse voice, "Why?"
The Pope struck the ice with his golden staff and sneered, "Why do you still ask? The Moga clan possesses the blood of the Demon Eye. Now that I have you all to myself, how can I allow it to spread and belong to someone else?"
The people on the ground suddenly sprang up and rushed toward the direction from which the sound came.
"Beast!" Shocked and enraged, the heavily injured Tong unleashed astonishing power, as if even the deadly poison had lost its effectiveness!
A pale blue breeze swept by, and something in the snow instantly opened up. Tong's final blow struck an incredibly soft net—Miao Shui stood gracefully on the spot, opening her Heavenly Net Umbrella to protect the King. The water-like, resilient umbrella absorbed the final, powerful blow, and with a hiss, a crack appeared.
"So injured, and poisoned by the Seven Star Begonia, yet you can still move?" Miao Shui chuckled, looking at her tattered umbrella with pity. "Truly worthy of being called Tong. But..." She gently tapped his shoulder with the tip of the umbrella, and with a crack, a crisp sound of bones breaking, the man finally collapsed heavily to the ground.
She continued to giggle: "But, that attack just now must have exhausted your last bit of energy, right? Now that you can't suppress the poison of the Seven Star Begonia, you'll only suffer more."
Tong collapsed onto the snow, breathing heavily. Even though he clenched his teeth to suppress a groan, his muscles twitched uncontrollably. Miao Shui's umbrella tip struck several points, sealing eight of his major acupoints.
"Pitiful. Don't you want to die?" The Pope looked at the fallen Tong, stroking his beard and smiling. "Beg me for mercy."
"Pah!" Tong gritted her teeth and sneered, spitting at him. "Kill me!"
The King flicked his sleeve, clearing away the phlegm of blood. Looking at the pair of eyes still defiant on the snow, his expression gradually turned ferocious. His hand returned to the crown of Tong's head, slowly probing the entrance of the golden needle. In an extremely cruel tone, he spoke slowly and deliberately: "Very well, I'll show you mercy one more time—before you die, let you remember everything from twelve years ago! Tong!"
Suddenly, the King of Pop increased the pressure in his hand, and the golden needles, stained with blood, bounced out from three acupoints on the back of the head and disappeared into the snow.
"Letting you die like this is too easy!" The Pope's voice, laced with cruel laughter, lifted the traitor's chin with his golden staff. "Tong... my Tong, it was my mercy to let you forget that memory. Since you don't appreciate it, then now, I've decided to take back that mercy. You'd better savor those memories!"
As soon as the golden needle was removed, countless fragmented memories surged up from his dark and gloomy past, instantly enveloping him.
What...what were those things? A dark room...hands chained...a pair of clear eyes staring silently at him in the darkness. In the night of burning blood and fire, the two figures vanished instantly onto the ice.
That's it, that's it—
"No...no...ah! Ahhhhh..." He clutched his hair and let out a low, hoarse cry, rolling around in the snow in agony, his blood staining the ground—the overwhelming memories of the past drove him almost insane in an instant!
Miao Shui held an umbrella to shield the King from the wind and snow, a hint of fear in her eyes. The old man removed the golden needle from the top of the man's eye, smiling as he awakened the sealed blood-red memories within him, cruelly closing in step by step—
"Tong, have you forgotten? I was the one who brought you back when you were on the verge of collapse and helped you seal your memories."
"Otherwise, you'll go crazy. Won't you?"
"Don't you want to remember what you did—to escape, you agreed to be my slave; to prove your loyalty, you obeyed my orders, took up a sword, and joined the ranks of assassins... Heh, you were terrified the first time you killed someone, and cried incessantly. What a cowardly child... Who would have thought you'd have the guts you have today?"
The demonic voices echoed in her ears, resonating with the memories surfacing in her mind, revealing the full truth of that bloody night twelve years ago. Tong was nailed to the snow by those memories, her heart aching with waves of excruciating pain, yet she could not move.
Yes, yes... I remember now! I remember everything!
That night... that bloody night of slaughter, I was running, chasing after those two people, my hands stained with blood.
He was so afraid of death that he knelt down to that devil in order to gain freedom and save himself—and then he was forced to pick up a sword and chase after his fellow villagers… Those uncles, aunts, and sisters-in-law, dragging their children along, ran across the snow, letting out desperate and tragic cries, with countless armed assassins from the Great Bright Palace chasing after them.
He was among the pursuers, covered in blood, carrying a sword, just like the other assassins around him.
That snowy night, the blood, the blood...
He suddenly cried out, buried his head deep in his palms, and shook it violently.
Why bring it all up? Why relive such memories—to recall this version of myself?
"Do you remember now? My Tong..." The King smiled with satisfaction, patted his shoulder, and whispered affectionately in his ear, "Tong, you are the real murderer that night... even those two young men and women died because of you."
“You called her sister, didn’t you? I told you to come back, but you still wanted to chase after her—don’t you know what you looked like back then? You were chasing after her with a sword in hand, your face covered in blood, looking like a vengeful ghost… She didn’t even hear you calling her; she was just desperately trying to shake you off.”
"In the end, the girl and her lover fell into the icy river together—and froze to death."
The devil whispered in his ear, each word like an invisible knife, slowly tearing him apart.
Twelve years later, the wind and snow swept in that night, carrying a heavy stench of blood, shattering his last shred of courage.
So that's how it is... So that's how it is! It's true. The past events that Sayo mentioned in Yakushi Valley, the clear eyes she saw, and the dead boy under the ice—it was all real! She really is Sayo... She didn't lie to him.
Her eyes were so familiar, like the white mountains and black waters of the north, striking a chord deep within his heart the moment they met. That was his sister… that was Xiaoye!
He had been imprisoned in darkness for seven years, abandoned by everyone, isolated from the world, the only thing he could see was her eyes. Those eyes held so much care and tenderness, his only strength to resist hunger, cold, and collapse—how could he have completely forgotten?
Tong covered her head and screamed, then knelt down on the snow, trembling all over, unable to stop howling.
She risked her life to stop him from returning to this dark, demonic palace—yet he mercilessly knocked her to the ground and left.
Twelve years later, fate had given him a chance to find her, leading him back to that warm snow valley and showing him the way home again. He could have regained his long-lost happiness simply by choosing to "believe." However, by then he was numb and indifferent, no longer trusting anyone. Tempted by the bloodthirsty desire for power, he once again ruthlessly pushed away that hand, embarking alone on this path of no return.
That was his own choice... He was willing to deceive and hurt her, but he refused to give up his struggle for freedom and power.
Therefore, we have ended up in our current situation.
He deserved it!
He suddenly burst into laughter: So, his whole life had been a struggle between desperately trying to break free and helplessly surrendering? Yet, despite his best efforts, he could never break free.
All the murderous intent suddenly dissipated, and he felt only endless fatigue. He slowly closed his eyes, a bitter smile appearing on his lips.
Miao Shui watched from the side, her heart filled with shock—had she been defeated? Tong had ceased to resist, even her anger had vanished. Such a weary expression was something she had never seen on the faces of the assassins in this battlefield of carnage!