The horse suddenly knelt down, and at the same time.

Lin Zichan also flew out from the carriage.

As the carriage flipped over, Lin Zichan returned to the ground.

Just landed.

"Hmm!"

Lin Zichan let out a low groan.

An arrow pierced directly into his right arm.

Lin Zichan couldn’t afford any delay; he forcefully pulled the arrow out and then used Qinggong to flee swiftly.

The assassins behind him pursued relentlessly.

Lin Zichan’s face grew paler, blood streaming from his arm, cold sweat covering his body.

Only then did he realize the arrow was poisoned.

No wonder the guards protecting him were so quickly wiped out.

Lin Zichan bit his lip, using the pain to keep himself from passing out.

He desperately pushed forward.

Suddenly, he squatted down.

In front of him appeared ten or so men in black, trapping him directly.

Lin Zichan turned to escape.

The ten or so assassins chasing him had blocked his retreat as well.

Lin Zichan warily observed the people around him.

Fu Xingyi never intended to spare his life.

And it was obvious; Fu Xingyi did not storm the General Mansion to capture him because he didn’t want to make enemies of Song Yanqing and Xie Ruotong. Now, the two wield significant power, enough to support half of Daxuan, so Fu Xingyi was naturally smart.

He just didn’t know, once An Ning found out she was deceived by Fu Xingyi, would she... hate Fu Xingyi.

In a moment.

The twenty or so assassins charged at him all at once.

Lin Zichan, already proficient in martial arts, found it easy to apply his skills.

But being one against twenty, combined with being wounded and poisoned, making an escape was practically a fool’s dream.

But he never thought of giving up.

Because An Ning didn’t want him dead.

If he died, An Ning would never forgive Fu Xingyi.

Just like when Gu Xingchuan died, even if she could love him, she couldn’t accept an innocent life lost because of her.

Lin Zichan began a desperate fight with the twenty men.

A sudden outburst of astonishing combat power left the twenty assassins stunned.

They initially believed capturing Lin Zichan would be easy.

After all, he was injured and poisoned.

In his current physical state, they assumed he was not a threat.

Yet in the heat of the real battle.

Several guards were wounded by Lin Zichan, and some were even killed.

The assassins became visibly more cautious.

After making a round of kills, Lin Zichan was covered in blood.

He had killed.

But he was also wounded.

Blood from his arm dripped down along his Sword to the ground.

He was severely injured, to the point where he could collapse at any time.

Yet he remained standing.

The dozen or so assassins surrounding him didn’t dare to make any rash moves, even in his weakened state.

Lin Zichan gasped for breath.

His sharp eyes kept a keen watch on the surrounding assassins, exuding pressure.

The atmosphere was extremely suffocating.

An assassin leader made a hand gesture.

All the assassins charged forward again.

Lin Zichan picked up the treasure Sword and engaged them face to face.

Blood flew and streamed in the air.

In the darkness of night, only the sounds of Sword clashing could be heard...

One by one, the assassins fell before Lin Zichan.

Wounds appeared all over Lin Zichan’s body.

Once again.

A brief pause.

Now only seven or eight assassins remained.

No one could have imagined that a severely injured man could kill so many Inner Palace Experts.

The remaining ones obviously had greater fear of Lin Zichan.

Yet Lin Zichan was already covered in wounds, riddled with injuries.

What exactly was sustaining him, allowing him to stand, even if leaning on the Sword, he still stood proudly.

His face was entirely covered in blood.

His features were unrecognizable, yet his fierce and relentless gaze still sent chills down one’s spine.

The assassins and Lin Zichan stood in a standoff.

Lin Zichan moved his fingers.

His fingers were covered in blood.

With one movement, more blood trickled down.

And he couldn’t feel it anymore.

His body seemed numb.

Bit by bit, he lifted the Sword once more.

An assassin gasped.

Amazingly, he could still fight.

Amazingly, he could still lift the Sword.

How the person in front of them managed to endure up until now was beyond comprehension.

And the scene of Lin Zichan was as tragic as a living dead, merely a walking corpse.

He inched closer to the assassin.

The assassin took a step back.

They were truly intimidated by his murderous aura.

In this world, no one could still inspire such fear while so gravely injured.

The assassin gritted his teeth.

Another hand signal.

A few men jumped forward quickly.

Lin Zichan engaged them in yet another fierce battle.

After a fierce fight on the airport, both sides’ strength had been greatly drained.

Everyone’s moves were significantly slower.

Including Lin Zichan.

But.

Ultimately.

Ultimately, he still couldn’t overcome the odds.

Lin Zichan, no matter how much he tried to keep from falling, no matter how desperately he fought.

In the end, he was stabbed directly in the heart by an assassin’s Sword.

Firmly, without any deviation.

As it pierced in.

He only felt the world darken.

He remembered that time in Mobei when he shielded An Ning from a strike.

He wasn’t sure why.

Back then, he always felt he would survive.

Though he was gravely injured, he just felt he could live on, could open his eyes and see An Ning again.

But this time.

This time, he felt it was truly the end.

He looked at the person in front of him.

Looked at the person whose eyes were filled with cruelty after stabbing into his heart.

Their anger towards him reached its peak.

Because he had killed so many of their companions, causing them significant losses.

The assassin mercilessly withdrew the Sword.

Once withdrawn, blood spattered everywhere.

Lin Zichan’s body trembled slightly.

But he didn’t fall immediately.

He stepped back two steps.

His consciousness was gradually fading.

He couldn’t see anything clearly anymore.

He wasn’t sure if it was blood or tears that clouded his vision, but his eyelids naturally began to close.

Ultimately.

This hurried life was coming to an end.

Looking back at his life.

It was enough.

Avenging his mother, seizing the throne, having loved and been loved, and his pair of children...

As long as they were well, he had no regret in death.

He accepted his fate.

Accepted to die willingly.

Just as he was about to finally close his eyes.

"Ugh!" Lin Zichan suddenly felt another wave of pain.

The pain brought back a sliver of consciousness to his fading mind.

He felt countless blades piercing through his body.

From all sides...

He thought his body should be full of holes by now.

Perhaps, if he had collapsed sooner.

The body wouldn’t be in this tragic condition.

Lin Zichan lifted his eyelids.

"No..."

A cry of despair, mixed with the rapid sound of horse hooves, seemed to echo in his ears.

Or perhaps it was just an illusion.

He could no longer distinguish, whether it was real or a hallucination.

He vaguely saw a familiar figure rushing towards him disregarding everything.

Though it was far.

Though his sight was long blurred.

He still seemed to see her crying face.

So heartbroken.

Don’t cry An Ning.

You were right.

Once, you were also chosen over and over by me, losing your life countless times.

Now, it’s just karma.

It’s his deserved retribution.

Unaware of how she grieves over it.

So many things he wanted to tell An Ning, but in the end, his dry lips could no longer utter a word.

At the moment all the assassins withdrew their Swords from his body.

As blood painted the sky.

He fell heavily to the ground, with no longer... any breath.