Dark clouds pressed down on the city, and the air was still damp from the heavy rain.
Puddles on the ground reflected the two figures standing opposite each other.
Feng Ying's eyes were full of killing intent, and the flying daggers in his hands glinted coldly, ready to strike.
His whole body was tense, poised for battle, and his eyes could only see Qiao Ying as his target.
In contrast, Qiao Ying had her hands tucked casually into her coat pockets, gazing at her opponent without a trace of anxiety or sharpness, as if the person before her was not an enemy but an old friend.
The emotion in her eyes seemed to confirm this.
It was as if she was looking through Feng Ying towards someone else.
The clone seemed to glean something from the way she looked at him, and did not attack hastily.
Qiao Ying said lightly, as if chatting with an old friend, "You know you can't beat me, yet you came alone to die? Clones may lack emotions, but they aren't really machines. Why are you so unafraid of death, so ready to throw your life away?"
Clearly her last words were not addressed to the clone, but to his original self.
Feng Ying looked at her silently, not responding.
Qiao Ying said, "The clone can't speak?"
Without waiting for Feng Ying to react, she gave a small smile, unconcerned, and continued talking to herself, even more softly, "Then don't speak. Anyway, that was always your temperament."
Then she reined in her emotions, taking her hands out of her pockets as a dagger appeared. "Let's get on with it," she said calmly.
At that moment, light rain began to fall again from the gloomy sky, and cold wind blew, flipping up coat-tails. The raindrops struck their faces.
Feng Ying's eyes flashed coldly, and he lunged towards Qiao Ying in one swift movement.
The rain grew heavier, and the sounds of fighting from the street corner became more intense and furious, with the clashing of weapons ringing sharply.
Someone's weapon had been knocked away, staining a large area of the water on the ground red, though it was unclear whose blood it was.
The battle ended more quickly than anticipated.
Qiao Ying struck more decisively and viciously than ever before.
She didn't even bother tending to her still unhealed wounds, attacking relentlessly without a moment's pause for breath.
Even when her arm was injured by a flying dagger, she didn't hesitate for an instant, a true killing machine.
If not for the complete lack of hatred in her eyes, her terrifying onslaught would have seemed motivated by deep enmity.
She seemed afraid that she wouldn't be able to finish it, and didn't dare hesitate even slightly. Otherwise, the only one dying would be her.
Feng Ying's body slammed heavily against the wall, blood dripping from his mouth. His wrists were slashed, arms hanging limply by his sides. He leaned forward, no longer able to support himself.
But instead of falling to the ground, he fell into Qiao Ying's arms as she rushed forward to catch him.
His blood-stained chin rested on Qiao Ying's slender shoulder.
He heard the girl's soft voice, "Say something and I'll spare you." Her tone was gentle, coaxing.
Silence all around.
Feng Ying's harsh breaths for survival sounded by her ear.
She pleaded again, "Call me Little Ying."
The will to survive made him open his mouth. Feng Ying's blood-stained lips moved slightly, and after a pause he painfully uttered the words she wanted to hear, "...Little Ying."
The familiar voice nearly broke Qiao Ying's composure.
Her longing and feelings for Feng Ying surged uncontrollably in that moment, only to be forcefully suppressed by reason an instant later.
Qiao Ying stared straight ahead, betraying no emotion.
The next moment, the dagger in her hand mercilessly pierced Feng Ying's neck without hesitation.
Warm blood splattered her face.
Qin Hanyue bought grapes at top speed, almost running there and back. The round trip that normally took over ten minutes he completed in just a few minutes. But when he returned, she was no longer there waiting for him.
Qin Hanyue panicked, looking around for her desperately.
He knew buying grapes was just an excuse to get rid of him, but faced with Qiao Ying's nearly coercive demand, he had no way to refuse.
She must have sensed danger and sent him away, or she didn't want to implicate him and simply abandoned him outright.
Qin Hanyue could only pray it was the latter.
Hoping she was alright.
The long, winding alleys crisscrossed in all directions. Qin Hanyue's figure hurried by, when he suddenly caught sight of something and halted.
Qin Hanyue turned to look, and saw Qiao Ying crouching on the ground. Her face was spattered with blood.
Before her lay a male corpse.
Qiao Ying reached out to gently caress Feng Ying's gaunt face, wiping the blood away clean.
Qin Hanyue quickly went over, drawing nearer, and seeing the dead man's face, his footsteps slowed as his eyes remained fixed on the face beneath Qiao Ying's palm, sensing something amiss.
This face looked seventy to eighty percent like Fake Xiao, yet was not the same. Qin Hanyue had some guesses.
Qin Hanyue walked up and crouched down beside her. Seeing her expression, he called softly in concern, "Little Ying?"
Her brows were slightly knitted, barely detectable pain on her face. The gruesome dead clone had clearly evoked memories of Feng Ying's death.
Qin Hanyue noticed her injured arm, and hurriedly took out a roll of gauze he carried on him to bandage her wound.
At this time Qiao Ying spoke, telling him, "Do you know what Feng Ying looked like?"
The misty fine rain continued to fall, pricking their faces.
Hearing this, Qin Hanyue looked towards the male corpse on the ground.
Qiao Ying's slender white fingertips brushed Feng Ying's thin eyelids. Her tone was flat and emotionless, "This is what he looked like."
Qin Hanyue asked uncertainly, "He is...?"
Qiao Ying told him, "Feng Ying's clone."
The expression in Qin Hanyue's eyes gradually turned complex.
Qiao Ying continued on her own, "From the time I babbled my first words, before I could even remember anything, Feng Ying was by my side."
Qin Hanyue hadn't expected they'd known each other so early.
Qiao Ying said, "I've known him over twenty years."
Qin Hanyue was instantly confused. His first reaction was that she had misremembered the time, but of course she wouldn't make such a basic error.
Qiao Ying said, "We trained together every day, studied together, lived together, were punished together, struggled to survive together."
"He existed in my life from the very start, like a part of me, never thought of as separate."
Listening to this, Qin Hanyue was utterly bewildered.
He looked at Qiao Ying right before his eyes. For the first time, facing a matter, a person, Qin Hanyue was completely lost.
He couldn't even grasp the edges of the answer. Even with a total stranger, he could glean some information from analyzing their words and clothing.
But this girl he had known and liked for nearly two years now, he was totally clueless about her. Completely unfamiliar.
Just a few days ago he had said her identity didn't matter. Whether she was Qiao Ying, an assassin trained by Blood Shadow, or Blood Shadow's clone, to him she was the same. But now he didn't even know who she was anymore.
Her words mingled with the cold rain, sounding strangely sorrowful: "His death was not unrelated to me, but I always thought it was an accident. Dark Shadow told me he died for me, that it was suicide." She couldn't accept it, yet had to face it.
Qin Hanyue looked at her - who on earth was she?
She turned her head to meet his confused gaze, and breathing in his nervousness, gave him the answer: "I am Blood Shadow."
Dark clouds pressed down on the city, and the air was still damp from the heavy rain.
Puddles on the ground reflected the two figures standing opposite each other.
Feng Ying's eyes were full of killing intent, and the flying daggers in his hands glinted coldly, ready to strike.
His whole body was tense, poised for battle, and his eyes could only see Qiao Ying as his target.
In contrast, Qiao Ying had her hands tucked casually into her coat pockets, gazing at her opponent without a trace of anxiety or sharpness, as if the person before her was not an enemy but an old friend.
The emotion in her eyes seemed to confirm this.
It was as if she was looking through Feng Ying towards someone else.
The clone seemed to glean something from the way she looked at him, and did not attack hastily.
Qiao Ying said lightly, as if chatting with an old friend, "You know you can't beat me, yet you came alone to die? Clones may lack emotions, but they aren't really machines. Why are you so unafraid of death, so ready to throw your life away?"
Clearly her last words were not addressed to the clone, but to his original self.
Feng Ying looked at her silently, not responding.
Qiao Ying said, "The clone can't speak?"
Without waiting for Feng Ying to react, she gave a small smile, unconcerned, and continued talking to herself, even more softly, "Then don't speak. Anyway, that was always your temperament."
Then she reined in her emotions, taking her hands out of her pockets as a dagger appeared. "Let's get on with it," she said calmly.
At that moment, light rain began to fall again from the gloomy sky, and cold wind blew, flipping up coat-tails. The raindrops struck their faces.
Feng Ying's eyes flashed coldly, and he lunged towards Qiao Ying in one swift movement.
The rain grew heavier, and the sounds of fighting from the street corner became more intense and furious, with the clashing of weapons ringing sharply.
Someone's weapon had been knocked away, staining a large area of the water on the ground red, though it was unclear whose blood it was.
The battle ended more quickly than anticipated.
Qiao Ying struck more decisively and viciously than ever before.
She didn't even bother tending to her still unhealed wounds, attacking relentlessly without a moment's pause for breath.
Even when her arm was injured by a flying dagger, she didn't hesitate for an instant, a true killing machine.
If not for the complete lack of hatred in her eyes, her terrifying onslaught would have seemed motivated by deep enmity.
She seemed afraid that she wouldn't be able to finish it, and didn't dare hesitate even slightly. Otherwise, the only one dying would be her.
Feng Ying's body slammed heavily against the wall, blood dripping from his mouth. His wrists were slashed, arms hanging limply by his sides. He leaned forward, no longer able to support himself.
But instead of falling to the ground, he fell into Qiao Ying's arms as she rushed forward to catch him.
His blood-stained chin rested on Qiao Ying's slender shoulder.
He heard the girl's soft voice, "Say something and I'll spare you." Her tone was gentle, coaxing.
Silence all around.
Feng Ying's harsh breaths for survival sounded by her ear.
She pleaded again, "Call me Little Ying."
The will to survive made him open his mouth. Feng Ying's blood-stained lips moved slightly, and after a pause he painfully uttered the words she wanted to hear, "...Little Ying."
The familiar voice nearly broke Qiao Ying's composure.
Her longing and feelings for Feng Ying surged uncontrollably in that moment, only to be forcefully suppressed by reason an instant later.
Qiao Ying stared straight ahead, betraying no emotion.
The next moment, the dagger in her hand mercilessly pierced Feng Ying's neck without hesitation.
Warm blood splattered her face.
Qin Hanyue bought grapes at top speed, almost running there and back. The round trip that normally took over ten minutes he completed in just a few minutes. But when he returned, she was no longer there waiting for him.
Qin Hanyue panicked, looking around for her desperately.
He knew buying grapes was just an excuse to get rid of him, but faced with Qiao Ying's nearly coercive demand, he had no way to refuse.
She must have sensed danger and sent him away, or she didn't want to implicate him and simply abandoned him outright.
Qin Hanyue could only pray it was the latter.
Hoping she was alright.
The long, winding alleys crisscrossed in all directions. Qin Hanyue's figure hurried by, when he suddenly caught sight of something and halted.
Qin Hanyue turned to look, and saw Qiao Ying crouching on the ground. Her face was spattered with blood.
Before her lay a male corpse.
Qiao Ying reached out to gently caress Feng Ying's gaunt face, wiping the blood away clean.
Qin Hanyue quickly went over, drawing nearer, and seeing the dead man's face, his footsteps slowed as his eyes remained fixed on the face beneath Qiao Ying's palm, sensing something amiss.
This face looked seventy to eighty percent like Fake Xiao, yet was not the same. Qin Hanyue had some guesses.
Qin Hanyue walked up and crouched down beside her. Seeing her expression, he called softly in concern, "Little Ying?"
Her brows were slightly knitted, barely detectable pain on her face. The gruesome dead clone had clearly evoked memories of Feng Ying's death.
Qin Hanyue noticed her injured arm, and hurriedly took out a roll of gauze he carried on him to bandage her wound.
At this time Qiao Ying spoke, telling him, "Do you know what Feng Ying looked like?"
The misty fine rain continued to fall, pricking their faces.
Hearing this, Qin Hanyue looked towards the male corpse on the ground.
Qiao Ying's slender white fingertips brushed Feng Ying's thin eyelids. Her tone was flat and emotionless, "This is what he looked like."
Qin Hanyue asked uncertainly, "He is...?"
Qiao Ying told him, "Feng Ying's clone."
The expression in Qin Hanyue's eyes gradually turned complex.
Qiao Ying continued on her own, "From the time I babbled my first words, before I could even remember anything, Feng Ying was by my side."
Qin Hanyue hadn't expected they'd known each other so early.
Qiao Ying said, "I've known him over twenty years."
Qin Hanyue was instantly confused. His first reaction was that she had misremembered the time, but of course she wouldn't make such a basic error.
Qiao Ying said, "We trained together every day, studied together, lived together, were punished together, struggled to survive together."
"He existed in my life from the very start, like a part of me, never thought of as separate."
Listening to this, Qin Hanyue was utterly bewildered.
He looked at Qiao Ying right before his eyes. For the first time, facing a matter, a person, Qin Hanyue was completely lost.
He couldn't even grasp the edges of the answer. Even with a total stranger, he could glean some information from analyzing their words and clothing.
But this girl he had known and liked for nearly two years now, he was totally clueless about her. Completely unfamiliar.
Just a few days ago he had said her identity didn't matter. Whether she was Qiao Ying, an assassin trained by Blood Shadow, or Blood Shadow's clone, to him she was the same. But now he didn't even know who she was anymore.
Her words mingled with the cold rain, sounding strangely sorrowful: "His death was not unrelated to me, but I always thought it was an accident. Dark Shadow told me he died for me, that it was suicide." She couldn't accept it, yet had to face it.
Qin Hanyue looked at her - who on earth was she?
She turned her head to meet his confused gaze, and breathing in his nervousness, gave him the answer: "I am Blood Shadow."
