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Her left hand swiftly withdrew, and with a "whoosh," the silver whip was retrieved. The delicate whip remained spotless, not a single drop of blood on it, still icy and piercing. The maid's head drooped; her breath was gone.

Murong Yin watched in shock as this cruel scene unfolded in an instant. His gaze shifted from the dead maid to the owner of the silver whip, looking bewildered.

A white lotus flower!

Murong Yin's whole body trembled violently. He stared at the lotus flower like a wooden chicken, his eyes, burning with grief and indignation, filled with shock, disbelief, and pain that went deep into his bones.

Lotus withdrew her silver whip, her snow-white face cold and silent. Without glancing at Murong Yin, she turned away indifferently and stood beside Ye Chuhan. "Just because of a single word from Young Master Murong, you can kill someone. Young Master Murong is truly ruthless."

Ye Chuhan gazed at the unpainted jade chessboard, a smile playing on her long, elegant eyes, and pondered softly, "So, in the next game, whose life should we bet on?"

His smiling voice gently drifted past Murong Yin's ear.

Immediately afterwards.

A clanging sound of chains rang out, as if someone was being pushed in, staggering, and then collapsed in front of Murong Yin.

"Thirteenth Brother." The man's voice was hoarse and strained.

Murong Yin shuddered and stared blankly at the person in front of him.

Before him stood Hua Chen, a scarlet-clad youth covered in wounds.

Hua Chen was firmly chained with steel chains, unable to move. His face was covered in dirty bloodstains, and his disheveled black hair obscured his once dashing face.

Hua Chen lay prostrate on the ground, his hands bound behind his back with chains, and could only stare blankly at Murong Yin.

Murong Yin's lips trembled, "Hua Chen..."

Hua Chen, however, immediately noticed Murong Yin's completely crippled leg. Instantly, his heart ached terribly.

His eyes instantly turned bloodshot, and a burning hatred raged within him. Like a trapped beast, he turned his head and hissed fiercely at Ye Chuhan:

"I'm going to kill you all—!"

He staggered to his feet in grief and rushed towards Ye Chuhan, who was a few steps away, with a burning rage within him. He wished he could kill everyone in the Tianshan Snow Sect.

moment.

A silver whip flashed before his eyes like the forked tongue of a venomous snake!

Hua Chen couldn't dodge in time.

A stinging, bloody welt appeared on his cheek!

Before Hua Chen could even see what had struck him, he only saw a white shadow flash before his eyes. After being struck twice, his body was forced backward and slammed hard against the stone wall.

The cold, silver whip had mercilessly wrapped around his throat.

Hua Chen fell to the ground. With his hands bound behind his back, he could not break free from the soft whip wrapped around his neck. He could only breathe with difficulty and look up to see the person in front of him.

His pupils constricted instantly, and a surge of blood rushed to his chest. "Witch—!!"

Lotus stood before him.

She gripped the silver whip in her hand, the other end of which coiled around Hua Chen's neck like a venomous snake. With just a little force, she could strangle him to death right in front of her.

However.

In that very instant.

A strange feeling suddenly entered her heart.

Lotus subconsciously turned her head, and instantly, a gaze fixed on her, freezing her in place. Her whole body felt icy cold, as if she had fallen into an ice cave.

Murong Yin looked at her silently.

He simply gazed silently at Lotus, his once clear and gentle eyes now filled with indifference, a despairing indifference. "Please, Lotus, have mercy..."

He spoke each word slowly and deliberately, his frail body like a leaf in a storm, seemingly about to be torn to shreds. No one could describe the pain that seeped into his very bones in that moment…

"I haven't lost this game yet..."

Lotus's face turned pale, and her fingers went limp.

The silver whip fell softly from Hua Chen's neck, landing on the cold ground of the East Garden, its chilling killing intent long gone. Ye Chuhan smiled subtly, her expression unchanged.

Murong Yin's breathing was weak, and his legs were stained with blood. With difficulty, he reached out a trembling finger, picked up a white chess piece, and slowly placed it on the jade chessboard. Hua Chen's life depended on this game of chess!

The game of life and death had just begun when everyone in the entire East Garden held their breath, not daring to make a sound.

In the silent hall, only the sound of chess pieces falling could be heard.

Ye Chuhan's chess game was sharp and aggressive, relentlessly pressing forward and ruthlessly seizing territory. Murong Yin, on the other hand, was meticulously prepared, his every move calculated and seemingly inexhaustible... However...

Lotus's gaze fell on Murong Yin's increasingly pale face, with fine beads of sweat seeping from his forehead. He was seriously injured, yet he still had to suffer such exhausting torment.

Time passed little by little...

Ye Chuhan smiled, becoming increasingly composed, while Murong Yin was pale and his breathing grew heavier, as if he might collapse at any moment.

Suddenly.

The moment Murong Yin picked up a white piece, his body suddenly trembled, and an uncontrollable cough spread from his lips. He covered his lips, and bright red blood gushed from between his fingers.

Holding Hua Chen down by the disciples of the Tianshan Snow Sect, he cried out in horror, tears streaming down his face, "Thirteenth Brother, stop playing this game! Hua Chen... Hua Chen is willing to die—!!"

Cough cough cough...