Chapter 291: Divine Punishment

Chapter 291: Divine Punishment

The closer he got to the west side of the city, the more oppressive the strangeness in the air felt.

At first it was the pungent smell of smoke, then the acrid odor of burning wood.

Finally, an indescribably horrible stench of charred flesh and skin relentlessly cut through the wind and snow, invading his nostrils and making him want to retch.

This aura of death made Cheng Ge's stomach lurch violently, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as if it would shatter his ribs.

The street corner was almost upon him. The wind and snow seemed to form a bizarre whirlpool here, churning up ashes and snowflakes in a frenzied dance.

The scene suddenly opened up before Cheng Ge, yet time seemed to freeze in that instant.

The sight before him hit him like a red-hot hammer, smashing into his skull.

In that moment, all his thoughts, all his senses, were shattered into oblivion—

A towering inferno, like the flames of hell, erupted from the wreckage of the courtyard.

Greedily licking the pitch-black night sky, tongues of fire leaped several zhang into the air.

Baring fangs and brandishing claws, they tinged the falling snowflakes an eerie blood-red.

A wave of scorching heat rushed toward him, clashing violently with the biting cold wind, creating a twisted, suffocating wave of heat.

And on that high wall, two ropes as thick as a bowl's rim hung down like two vicious snakes from the top.

Dangling at the ends of the ropes were two corpses, one male and one female.

Their tattered clothes, charred strips of cloth, fluttered in the wind.

Their heads hung limply, long black hair mixed with frost and snow covering their faces.

Snow had settled on their rigid bodies, swaying eerily in the searing updraft...

The sway was slight, but each motion hit like a hammer, shattering all the light in Cheng Ge's eyes.

"Hah..." A faint sound, like the rasp of a cut windpipe, escaped Cheng Ge's throat.

He tightened his grip on the reins with such force that he nearly snapped them.

His mount, shocked by the sudden force, reared up in pain, letting out a piercing whinny that split the night, its front hooves thrashing wildly in the air.

Cheng Ge remained frozen on the horse's back, utterly motionless.

Ice crystals clung to his brows and lashes, but they could not hide the eyes that instantly turned bloodshot.

The world twisted, spun, and collapsed chaotically before him!

Every sound—the wind howling, the fire crackling, the people wailing—faded into the distance, stretched into infinity, and became indistinct.

In their place came the surging roar of blood flooding his skull.

"Ah... ah—!" A broken, guttural roar, wrenched from the depths of his chest, finally broke free of its bounds.

Then, as if all support had vanished, he toppled rigidly off the horse!

"Thud!" A dull sound, splashing up a spray of filthy, muddy snow.

Like a fish thrown onto the shore, he gasped desperately but couldn't draw in a single breath of life-giving air.

Before his eyes, only those two bodies swaying in the firelight, searing endlessly into his retinas.

After a brief silence, an even more devastating explosion erupted.

"Ah—!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

A despairing, twisted roar exploded from his throat.

He struggled, his fingers digging deep into the snow and earth beneath him. His nails tore and bled, the blood mixing with mud, leaving ten savage claw marks.

He tried to get up, to rush forward, to cut the damn ropes, to extinguish the damn flames.

But his limbs felt as if they were filled with molten lead, or bound by countless invisible chains.

No matter how hard he struggled, he could only writhe helplessly in the snow, like a dying worm.

He slammed his forehead against the ground again and again. The dull thuds, mingling with the wind and fire, were terrifyingly stark.

His screams were drowned in the wind, vainly trying to pierce the thick curtain of snow.

Finally, they were completely swallowed by the endless falling snow and the arrogant crackling of the fire.

The firelight remained rampant, eerie and blinding, staining half the sky crimson.

The pure white ground, like a giant funeral banner, permeated heaven and earth.

The rapid, chaotic sound of hoofbeats drew near from a distance. Lü Rou, Ling Feng, and the others finally caught up, following the trail.

When they reined in their horses and saw the scene before them, it was as if they'd been struck by lightning.

Between heaven and earth, red and white collided harshly, intertwining—

In the snow, a hunched figure was kneeling rigidly, utterly still.

Newly fallen snow had already covered most of his body, nearly blending him into the icy landscape, like a freshly piled snow grave.

"Master—!!" Lü Rou let out a shrill, distorted wail, practically rolling off her horse.

She stumbled forward, her steps deep and unsteady, the snow burying her calves, yet she remained oblivious.

"Master! Master!" She reached out trembling hands, trying to pull the snow-covered figure free.

Her fingertips had just touched Cheng Ge's cold, stiff arm—

That body, which seemed to have lost all signs of life, tilted softly, without warning, to one side, collapsing completely into the snow.

Cheng Ge's eyes were tightly shut, his long lashes frosted with ice crystals. His face was a nearly translucent, papery gold.

On his forehead, dark red, dried blood scabs clung to his hair and snowflakes. From the corner of his mouth, a continuous stream of dark, thick, sticky blood seeped out.

It flowed down his chin, quickly staining half his neck, soaking the front of his robe, already drenched with snow.

"Master!!! Don't scare me! Master!" Lü Rou, terrified out of her wits, lunged and hugged his limp body, her voice shaking uncontrollably.

She frantically used her own soaked sleeve to wipe the dark blood still seeping from his mouth.

But the blood seemed to come from an endless abyss—no sooner had she wiped away one wave than more gushed out, instantly soiling her plain-colored sleeve into a mess.

The snowstorm raged ever more ferociously.

Gale-force winds swept down goose-feather flakes, blotting out heaven and earth, scattering this endless whiteness like paper money for the dead.

...

The lamps in the censor's office burned all night, illuminating the endless heavy snow beyond the window.

Shadows flickered on the window paper, and stifled sobs and hurried whispers rose and fell.

Basins of warm water were carried in; when they were brought out again, they were stained with a stark dark red.

Snow sealed the roads, cutting off heaven and earth.

It wasn't until the morning of the fourth day that the leaden gray clouds, which had hung for days, finally cracked open, letting a faint, pale ray of sunlight through.

It was said that this was the heaviest snow in twenty years in Chengping Province, and finally it had let up...

Funiang carefully pushed the door open a crack, slipped out sideways, and quickly closed it behind her, shutting out the thick smell of medicine and blood that permeated the room.

Behind her, the old doctor followed, his steps unsteady, his face lined with exhaustion.