Médecine traditionnelle chinoise

Chapitre 134

Seeing this, her mother said, "Go back and get a piece of cloth to mend it, don't cry."

"No...cloth...it's ugly..." the little girl said, shaking her head.

Her mother was speechless after hearing that, and didn't know how to comfort her.

The little girl looked up at Zhao Yan, her face full of grievance, as if she was blaming Zhao Yan for making her fall because she was standing there.

Zhao Yan frowned, turned away, and ignored her.

When the girl saw that she was being ignored, she dropped the silk handkerchief and ran away crying.

The girl's mother quickly apologized and rushed over to comfort her.

Zhao Yan looked at the silk on the ground, hesitated for a long time, and finally bent down and picked it up.

That night, Zhao Yan found a needle and thread and carefully embroidered flowers on the silk.

Memories slowly flooded back. She vaguely remembered that when she was little, her mother had taught her embroidery, step by step. Back then, the family was poor, and fabric and thread were scarce. Her mother taught her the most rudimentary embroidery techniques. But she always eagerly anticipated this after-dinner activity.

Then, unexpected events occurred, and she eventually arrived at Hero's Castle, where Lady Xi taught her embroidery. In the garden pavilion, every stitch and thread was embroidered with the warmest memories. Whenever she felt wronged, she would hide in the garden and embroider. With each rise and fall of the needle, she could forget many things. These feelings, she forgot for a very, very long time…

She embroidered for a long time by the dim light, and by the time she finished, she was exhausted. She unknowingly fell asleep on the table.

When Mo Yun entered the room, he saw her asleep and tiptoed. He walked to the table, intending to carry her to bed. But his eyes caught sight of the silk handkerchief. The hole in the handkerchief had been repaired. To cover up the cheap pudding, she had embroidered a plum blossom tree on the handkerchief, following the original pattern.

Mo Yun picked up the silk handkerchief and couldn't help but smile.

...

The next day, after Zhao Yan finished washing up, she went out and saw a large group of women from the village looking at her expectantly.

Zhao Yan was slightly surprised, not understanding what was going on.

The girl's mother stepped forward, holding the silk handkerchief in her hand, and said, "Sister, you have such good skills! We've all come here to learn from you. Please teach us how to embroider."

The women readily agreed, making Zhao Yan extremely embarrassed.

"Oh, is it that you don't want to teach us because you think we're too clumsy?" one of the women said.

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yan shook her head, "No..."

"That's good then." The woman turned to look at Mo Yun, "Brother Mo, don't be reluctant to part with it."

Mo Yunben, who had been watching from the sidelines, felt awkward when the topic was brought up.

Zhao Yan glanced at him and said, "I have no relationship with him whatsoever."

When she said those words, the crowd erupted in uproar.

She looked at Mo Yun with a slightly provocative gaze.

Mo Yun paused for a moment, then smiled.

The villagers began to speculate about their identities again, but it didn't matter anymore. Some things were slowly changing, and they were no longer the same as before.

...

In the following days, Zhao Yan taught the village women to embroider in her spare time. When the men of the village went down the mountain, they would take some of the embroidered items with them to sell, which would earn them a few coins.

Days passed uneventfully, but that uneventfulness brought her contentment. Life in the mountain village was simple, yet it brought her peace of mind. She slowly forgot many things; the events at Hero's Fortress became so distant, so faintly remembered.

One day, the weather turned slightly cool, and a pleasant breeze gently swept by, soothing the heat of the past few days.

As usual, Zhao Yan sat under the eaves, quietly embroidering flowers.

Mo Yun walked up to her and said, "I'll go to town with everyone..."

Hearing him speak, Zhao Yan looked up and said, "Oh."

Mo Yun hesitated for a moment, then asked, "Is there anything you want?"

Zhao Yan looked at him, pondered for a moment, and said, "Rouge."

Mo Yun nodded, "Okay."

"Xiao Mo, aren't you ready yet? Are you still going or not?" someone shouted at the village entrance, their voice laced with mockery.

"Hey everyone, please don't rush them. It's not easy for this young couple to talk."

Upon hearing this, Mo Yun sighed helplessly, turned around, and walked over.

Zhao Yan held the needle and couldn't help but smile slightly.

In the sky, clouds drifted lazily, and occasionally a clear bird song swept overhead. She stopped her needlework and looked at the mountains before her. Everything reflected in her eyes was so clear and beautiful. All things seemed to be bathed in light, so wonderful.

She lowered her head and continued embroidering the butterfly. However, just as she put down her needle, she felt an eerie atmosphere spreading around her. She subconsciously looked up and saw a group of men in tight-fitting clothes approaching with knives, their killing intent palpable.

The needle and thread in her hand fell to the ground, and a voice rang in her ears: "If, in ten days, you still cannot find out the whereabouts of Lady Qi, your subordinates will lend you a hand. Please forgive any offense in that time."

Is it "ten days from now"? Is this fueling the fire?

She stood up, puzzled. Then she saw the men begin to slash and kill. Blood splattered, blurring her vision. She froze, unable to comprehend what was happening.

Just then, the men's blades drew near to a little girl. She knew this girl all too well; the piece of silk she had mended was hers alone. The little girl was already crying in terror, screaming and begging for help.

A surge of warmth suddenly welled up in Zhao Yan's heart. She didn't know where the strength came from, but she rushed forward and pushed the man with the knife away.

"Stop..." she cried, trembling. "Stop!"

The man with the knife exchanged a glance with his companion, then slashed at Zhao Yan. She had never expected this turn of events, and even if she had, she was just a weak woman; how could she possibly avoid it?

In a flash, the blade slashed open her arm, drawing blood. The pain made her stagger backward. The next moment, she saw the little girl fall to the ground, blood gushing out. The girl was still breathing; she was crying, reaching out her hand for Zhao Yan's help.

Fear gripped her heart, and she was unable to move an inch, watching helplessly as it all came to an end.

Those people ignored her and continued their killing spree.

Warm blood splattered, soaking her clothes and clinging stickily to her skin. The warm, metallic smell filled her chest, and everything felt like a nightmare.

Those people came quickly and left even faster; in moments, only Zhao Yan remained. She collapsed to her knees amidst the corpses, suddenly realizing how pathetic she was. She had thought she had committed countless evil deeds, manipulated events, and held everyone's fate in her hands. However, the truth was that she was merely a laughable pawn, a lackey whose presence or absence made no difference. She could do nothing—whether save someone or harm them… she could do absolutely nothing…

She looked down and saw the blood-soaked embroidery. No matter what she did, she couldn't escape… From the very beginning, she had no future…

...

As night fell, Mo Yun and the villagers who had come down the mountain returned. However, what they saw before them made them feel as if they had fallen into a nightmare. The once peaceful and happy village had been brutally slaughtered, with corpses strewn everywhere, a horrifying sight. The villagers were terrified and rushed forward to search for their families.

In an instant, heart-wrenching cries echoed through the mountains. Mo Yun, witnessing the horrific scene before him, felt a chill run down his spine. The dim light blurred his vision, and the piercing screams disturbed his peace of mind. The fear he felt was even greater than experiencing death firsthand…

He suddenly thought of Zhao Yan, and a sense of dread washed over him. He stepped forward, examining each corpse. With each one he looked at, his heart clenched tighter, anger and sorrow mingling, causing his brow to furrow. He recognized every person lying on the ground; this morning the children had been playing and laughing, the women had been learning to embroider… Who was it that would spare even the elderly, the weak, women, and children, so cruel and ruthless?!

After searching thoroughly, he still couldn't find any trace of Zhao Yan. His anxiety grew, but he also vaguely sensed something.

If Zhao Yan is involved in this matter, then there is only one person behind it: Wei Qi!

To find them, he was willing to resort to such ruthless methods. This was utter extermination; Wei Qi wouldn't leave them a single way out.

Where is Zhao Yan? Was she kidnapped, or...?

Just then, someone from the village came forward with a lantern, placed a hand on his shoulder, and though their voice was tinged with sorrow, it was also filled with an overwhelming concern and tenderness. "Brother Mo... Yan'er isn't here, perhaps she escaped unscathed. Let's search around some more... maybe..."

As the man spoke, he choked up.

Mo Yun looked at him, but the grief and indignation in her heart quickly turned into regret. There was only one reason why this small village had suffered such a tragedy: he and Zhao Yan were here…

To say he had no suspicion of Zhao Yan would be a lie. Otherwise, he should have taken her back to the Qi family long ago. Because of his lingering, more than a dozen innocent lives were lost here.

He had no intention of getting involved in the feuds of the martial world, but now, his obsession would only harm others. Thinking of this, his heart was filled with bitterness.

He comforted the villager, suppressing his emotions, and said he was going to find Zhao Yan before leaving the small village. He took a few steps, then turned back to gaze at her. Finally, a surge of hatred welled up in his heart. He turned, and ultimately, disappeared into the dark mountains.

...

Mo Yun traveled swiftly through the night for half an hour. The faint moonlight shone on the mountains, but his vision had already adjusted to the darkness, and he could see clearly.

Just then, several men dressed in tight-fitting clothes slowly approached from the dark mountains, each wielding a knife and exuding murderous intent. Upon seeing Mo Yun, the men didn't say a word and immediately attacked with their swords.

Seeing this, Mo Yun drew his sword, "Min Yan." The blade flashed as it left its sheath, slicing through the night. He raised his sword to meet the attack, its gleaming light weaving through the group of men in black.

"Minyan" was forged by the Qi family and was extremely sharp. The weapons in the hands of those men were cut off one by one, rendering them unable to fight.

"Did you kill the villagers?" Mo Yun asked in a deep voice.

Seeing that they were outnumbered, the group exchanged glances. One of them reached into his robes and threw the robes up forcefully.

A cloud of powder flew up. Mo Yun quickly retreated, dodging the attack. The others swiftly circled behind him and scattered more powder.

Mo Yun spun around to dodge, but still inhaled a little. After a short while, he felt a burning sensation in his chest and his body became weak.

Those people stopped attacking and scattered, disappearing into the mountains in no time.

Mo Yun was puzzled and before he could think of anything, he felt a sharp pain in his chest and choked on several mouthfuls of blood.

He leaned on his sword to get up and continued forward, but his steps were already unsteady and his vision was becoming blurry.

At that moment, he suddenly saw a petite figure ahead. In the darkness of the night, she was ethereal and unreal, but he recognized her at a glance because of her familiarity.

He mustered all his strength, quickened his pace, and finally caught up with the figure. He reached out and grabbed the person, calling out in a hoarse, weak voice, "Zhao Yan..."

Zhao Yan was suddenly grabbed, clearly startled. But when she saw who it was, her fear subsided. However, she immediately turned cold, forcefully shook off his hand, and tried to escape.

"Where are you going..." Mo Yun caught up and grabbed her again.

His pull aggravated Zhao Yan's wound, causing her to cry out in pain.

Mo Yun was slightly startled and let go of his hand. When he realized it, he found that his hand was covered with sticky blood.

Zhao Yan covered the wound on her arm and spoke, her voice still trembling: "Where I go is none of your business. Don't follow me anymore."

Mo Yun looked at her, suppressing the pain in his chest, and said, "The village affairs... you..."

Upon hearing this, Zhao Yan suddenly laughed. "Those people were killed by me. I lured them here. I've always been in contact with Wei Qi. The injury and betrayal were all an act. Now you know what kind of person I am, right? You really want to kill me, don't you?"

Mo Yun was stunned and speechless for a moment.

Zhao Yan still smiled and said, "I am 'utterly wicked,' I am heartless and insane, I can harm anyone, I can do any evil thing..."

"Then why did you run away..." Mo Yun interrupted her.

Zhao Yan was stunned. "I didn't run away!"

"If you're an accomplice in the deaths of the villagers, you should stay in the village and be a victim! If you're helping Wei Qi harm me, you shouldn't be avoiding me!" Mo Yun's voice suddenly rose, filled with intense emotion. "Zhao Yan, what exactly do you want!"

After he shouted those words, he was too weak to say anything more.

Zhao Yan looked at him with only indifference and disgust in her expression, but her eyes welled up with tears, which eventually slid down her cheeks.

“What do I want…” she began, “What else can I do… I’m nothing! I can’t do anything! What do you want me to do!”