A Shocking Dream

Chapter 155

"Hurry, they are there!" Just as Lin Wunian was fascinated by the sight, dozens of servants appeared on the road with blazing torches in their hands, instantly making the night noisy.

The woman in white on the roof glanced around with her almond-shaped eyes and saw the large number of servants rushing down below. She knew that it was not wise to fight at this moment, so she retracted her sword, tapped the green tiles with her lotus feet, and flew towards the back of the house with the force of her movement. Her body was as light as a startled wild goose, and she was looking for an opportunity to escape.

But the man in black wouldn't let her get away so easily. His brows knitted, seeing through her intentions. He took a long step forward, tiles rustling beneath his feet, like a cheetah in the night, locking onto its prey and closing in. "Hmph, you want to leave? Not so easy!" He growled, his voice resonating like a bell. The longsword in his hand flashed with a cold gleam, piercing the woman in white's back.

Hearing the sound of the wind, the woman in white dodged to the side, her white sleeve brushing the sword's edge, narrowly avoiding it. She glanced back, her beautiful eyes etched with anger. "Why won't you let me go, my sister? The lives of my entire village have perished at his hands, isn't that enough?" Her voice, choked with sobs and filled with grief and indignation, pierced the tense silence of the rooftop on this cold night like an arrow.

The man in black paused and slowed down his sword, but his eyes were still stern: "Hmph, words are not enough. Who can prove that what you said is true? Now that you are acting suspiciously and appearing in this confidential place, I have a duty to fulfill. I cannot let you go based on your one-sided statement." Having said that, his slightly frowned brow revealed a hint of hesitation in his heart.

"A confidential place?" The woman in white smiled bitterly, her hair disheveled in the night wind. "I just followed the devil's trail and came here to seek justice for my relatives. This marquis's mansion is full of filth. He is a guest of honor, but he is doing those dirty things in secret and slaughtering innocent people. But you collude with him and come to embarrass a poor man like me!" After she finished speaking, she stomped her foot suddenly, and several tiles shattered, as if venting her sorrow.

The man in black was startled, recalling recent rumors of a mysterious force lurking around the Marquis's residence, causing unrest among the people. The woman in white, looking desperate, didn't seem to be faking it. However, as the commander of the Marquis's guards, he was ordered to protect the compound, under strict orders not to let any suspicious individuals escape. Thinking of this, he gritted his teeth and raised his sword again. "Even so, you must return with me. Once the truth is revealed, I will clear your name."

The woman in white glared at him and said, "Going back home? That would be like a sheep walking into a tiger's mouth. I have been fleeing all the way, hiding my identity, and finally found this place after going through so much hardship. How can I give up all my efforts?" After that, she turned around, and the long sword in her hand drew an arc of light. She took the initiative to attack the man in black. Her moves were full of determination, as if she wanted to use this desperate fighting method to carve out a bloody path.

The man in black was helpless to defend himself, the clash of metal echoing through the night. Below, servants gathered in increasing numbers, their torches flickering, illuminating the entanglement of grudges. The woman in white intensified her attacks, tears still welling in her eyes, her heart filled with thoughts of her deceased loved ones. Each strike carried a venomous vengeance, forcing the man in black back.

Lin Wunian hid in a corner of the rooftop, not daring to breathe, as he listened intently to the white-clad woman's grief-stricken words. Seeing her hair disheveled, tears welling in her eyelashes, her words filled with heartache, the sword in her hand trembling but still radiating courage, Lin Wunian's heart surged. He thought, over and over again, she must have a deep hatred for him to kill alone.

Thinking of the Marquis's mansion, with its towering walls, heavily guarded gates, and exceptionally skilled guards, the woman in white, a mere woman, had ventured alone into such a dangerous den. Had she not been consumed by hatred, driven to despair, why would she have taken such a desperate risk? Lin Wunian recalled his own years of exile, the pain of separation from his family like an old scar being opened, and he felt a renewed sympathy for the woman in white's plight.

The man in black continued his attack, his sword strikes fierce, as if bound by his duty and unable to adapt. The woman in white was caught between a rock and a hard place, her plain clothes stained with sword marks and stained with blood. But hatred sustained her, and she fought with all her might. She would often look back at the man in black, her eyes mingling with anger and pleading: "Do you really want to be an accomplice of that evil man and disregard justice?"

At this point, Lin Wunian crouched on the shadowy rooftop, her hands unconsciously clenching the corners of her clothes, hesitating whether to intervene or not. She knew her situation was already precarious, and with her special status, how could she easily be drawn into this vortex of right and wrong?

The woman in white was now in an increasingly disheveled state, her hair disheveled and her dress tattered. Blood trickled from her wounds, staining the tiles beneath her feet red. Yet, she stubbornly held her sword and resisted the black-clad man's furious assault. Her cries, sheaving out the deep hatred for the tragic deaths of her loved ones and the destruction of her village, pierced Lin Wunian's heart, rattling his conscience.

"I have no grudge against you. I simply seek the truth and justice. As a lackey of the Marquis's mansion, do you really want to go against your conscience and aid the tyrant?" the woman in white screamed in grief and indignation, her eyes burning with hatred and despair. The man in black frowned, a flicker of hesitation passing through his eyes, but his sword remained steady. Duty and suspicion were like ropes, binding his judgment.

Lin Wunian's heart was in turmoil, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. If she intervened rashly, the Marquis's Mansion would unleash all means to track her down, and all her years of concealment would be wasted. But if she turned away, the woman in white would be left alone, helpless, and only a tragic death awaited her, her injustice forever buried. Her conscience pricked her like a thorn in her side, piercing every nerve. The tragic scene of her family's demise and the woman in white's current despair kept alternating in her mind, making her breath quicken.

At this moment of life and death, when the decision was difficult to make, the servants below set up a ladder and climbed onto the roof one after another. The situation became increasingly critical with the flashing of knives.

Seeing that it wasn't her fault for not helping, Lin Wunian, after a moment of inner torment, turned and hurried back inside. She searched, finally spotting the bamboo hat on the old wooden bench. She grabbed it and quickly put it on, its long brim covering most of her body.

Then, with lightning speed, Lin Wunian strides to the window, taps her foot, and leaps onto the window. The windowsill is narrow, yet she stands firm as a rock, her skirts rustling in the night breeze, like a chivalrous figure in the dark. She glances up at the eaves, where lights flicker and the sounds of battle drift faintly. The mournful cries of the woman in white seem to still ring in her ears, piercing her conscience. Taking a deep breath, she taps her toes, and like a swallow skimming the water, she leaps onto the eaves.

On the rooftop, the woman in white was cornered, her hair matted to a mess on her sweat-soaked cheeks. Her plain clothes were torn, and blood gushed from her wounds, staining large swathes of the tiles red. The man in black wielded his sword with swift, brutal force, seemingly determined to capture her alive. The servants, holding torches and shouting, formed an impenetrable semicircle around them, gradually closing the circle.