Chapter 42: The Madman Has Truly Gone Berserk

Chapter 42: This Madman Has Really Gone Berserk

This is absolutely ridiculous.

He's saying something between the lines.

Clearly, he thinks Sang Yu is that kept boy. Is he planning to go after Sang Yu?

Li Zhiming returned to his own courtyard, feeling a bit uneasy. It wasn't that he was worried about Sang Yu, but rather that he was concerned about what Sang Yu might do to Li Zhixing, given how recklessly Li Zhixing was courting death.

When he reached his courtyard gate, he paused, then turned and headed to Sang Yu's courtyard instead.

Sang Yu was sitting at the table, eyes half-closed, resting. The physician was still tidying up nearby, seemingly having just finished changing his bandages.

He still looked a bit pale, but he was much better than a few days ago.

When the physician saw Li Zhiming arrive, he immediately stopped what he was doing and gave a bow: "Greetings, First Young Master."

"At ease." Li Zhiming waved his hand. "How is he? Any better?"

Hearing his voice, Sang Yu opened his eyes and met his gaze, saying nothing.

The physician replied respectfully: "Young Master Sang's injuries have stabilized considerably. He just needs rest for the next few days and regular dressing changes. His life is no longer in danger."

"Good. You may go."

"Yes."

Under Sang Yu's gaze, Li Zhiming sat down across from him and waved to the maidservants nearby: "All of you, leave too."

Everyone left, leaving just the two of them alone in the courtyard.

Sang Yu smiled faintly: "Does the First Young Master have something to tell me?"

"Yes!"

Li Zhiming looked at him gravely, his words unconsciously speeding up: "Li Zhixing didn't die. He's still alive. I just saw him."

Sang Yu's eyes flickered.

"You heard me right. He didn't die. He looks perfectly fine, though his left hand seems pretty badly hurt. And..."

He hesitated for a moment, not daring to say what he wasn't sure about, and instead put it differently.

"We caused such a big mess with him in Liangzhou before. I'm a bit worried he might come after us. Either way, we should be on guard. If nothing happens, great—we can just stay out of each other's way."

Sang Yu narrowed his eyes, lips still. It was unclear what he was thinking, but his gaze slowly turned cold and heavy.

Li Zhiming, feeling the weight of his stare, swallowed nervously.

"First Young Master, are you that afraid of me?"

He asked such a random, inexplicable question.

This question again.

Li Zhiming shook his head: "No, I'm not afraid of you. I'm just worried. I—I've never dealt with anything this big before."

"Really?"

"Of course it's true! I can swear on it!"

He immediately held up two thumbs: "If I've told Sang Yu a single lie, may I be struck by five thunderbolts!"

What a joke.

As a modern person, he didn't believe in oaths at all. It was just words out of his mouth—nothing more. It wouldn't cost him skin or blood, and the weather wasn't something he could control anyway.

But Sang Yu was different.

Seeing how he could swear without hesitation and with such a devout look, Sang Yu's expression shifted slightly, and his ten fingers clenched tightly inside his sleeves.

The peaceful days didn't last long. Soon, the thing he'd feared came to pass.

Li Zhiming had been suffering from insomnia that night. Just as he was finally drifting off, he keenly sensed something was off.

Ever since returning from Liangzhou, he'd developed a conditioned response to danger.

Li Zhiming scrambled out of bed and heard the commotion coming from the courtyard next door.

"Sang Yu..."

Shit.

Li Zhiming hastily threw on an outer robe and rushed out, kicking open Sang Yu's door in a panic. Li Zhixing was indeed inside.

Sang Yu was injured, but the sword in his hand had already run clean through Li Zhixing's body.

Not only did Li Zhixing show no fear or regret, but a wanton smile hung on his face as he spoke in broken fragments: "You bastard, what, kill, kill me then. I'm just, just a whore, selling my ass, just like your mother..."

He couldn't finish his sentence.

Sang Yu, eyes bloodshot, yanked the sword out and slashed it across Li Zhixing's throat in one swift motion. Blood sprayed out, splattering across Li Zhiming's face—the warm, coppery stench of blood washing over him.

Li Zhiming staggered back. When he looked up, he met Sang Yu's gaze—eyes bloodshot and wild.

Sang Yu's face was covered in blood, his eyes nearly splitting at the corners, as if he'd suffered tremendous shock. A deep, muffled growl rumbled from his throat, and his whole being radiated a thick, terrifying murderous aura and madness.

A demon straight from hell.

Li Zhiming was terrified—his body reacted on instinct, and he turned to run.

He'd barely taken a few steps when someone grabbed him by the throat.

The overwhelming stench of blood engulfed him completely.

"Why are you running? Do you want me dead too? Do you too think I'm a bastard? Do you too think I deserve to die?"

"No... no..."

Li Zhiming struggled desperately, flailing his arms and legs.

He felt as if he were being lifted off the ground, his feet leaving the floor, his whole body losing balance. An immense suffocation and overwhelming dread closed in on him.

Sang Yu laughed maniacally, the sound tearing and grating on the ears.

"Die, die—everyone die!"

"Brother! Brother!" Li Ruoyao's voice came, her footsteps drawing nearer.

Sang Yu was caught off guard for a moment, and Li Zhiming kicked him, wrenching free from his hold and spinning around to run.

BAM.

Li Ruoyao had already rushed in.

"Ah..."

She shrieked in terror, almost crumpling to the floor. Li Zhiming hurried to support her: "What are you doing here? Run, go, run! Get help!"

Li Ruoyao was frozen by the bloody scene, shaking so hard she couldn't move. She just latched onto Li Zhiming's arm and wailed.

Li Zhiming was scared stiff himself, totally unable to look after the girl.

Sang Yu looked at them, chuckling: "How touching—brother and sister, so devoted. Look at those faces, so pretty..."

He grabbed Li Ruoyao's chin and squeezed. Her skin was so soft, she yelped in pain, swinging her fists and kicking at Sang Yu: "Mmph... let... mmph... let go..."

"Didn't you say you wanted to marry me? Then go to the underworld for me and look after my mother."

Li Ruoyao stared at him in terror, shaking her head like crazy, but he just squeezed harder.

Seeing she was about to die, Li Zhiming forgot his fear and lunged at Sang Yu, yanking at him, shouting: "Snap out of it! I'm Li Zhiming! Don't do anything crazy—let her go, let her go!"

"Get lost!"

Sang Yu's eyes went dark. He hoisted Li Ruoyao up like a ragdoll and flung her, slamming her into the cabinet with a loud bang.

She lay there, limp as a doll.

Sang Yu cracked his neck, still grinning. Li Zhiming's feet felt like they were filled with lead—he couldn't move an inch.

This psycho had completely lost it.

The second he realized that, Li Zhiming gave up on running.

He couldn't get away.

Sure enough, he was next.

Li Zhiming felt like he was flying, arcing through the air—a short distance that dragged on like a lifetime.

Bang.

He slammed down with a thud, the impact so hard he didn't even feel the pain yet.

He fell to the ground.

Li Ruoyao's blood had already pooled against his cheek. He could see her wide eyes, full of terror and disbelief.

Like even in death, she couldn't understand why the Sang Yu she loved was a psycho.

The commotion outside buzzed in his ears.

Li Zhiming twitched a few times, then died with his eyes wide open.