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The Eight-Hour Work System Of The Imperial Court Lackeys

The Eight-Hour Work System Of The Imperial Court Lackeys

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Chapter 16: End

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Chapter 16: End

Li Miao had a general understanding of Zhao Dehua's character long ago.

He was a cold-hearted and ruthless individual.

As mentioned before, martial arts are, to a large extent, idealistic.

The extent to which a person can utilize a martial art depends significantly on whether their character matches that martial art.

For example, saber techniques often emphasize courageous advancement; a indecisive person would find it difficult to master them. However, if that person were to learn palm techniques that counter strength with softness, they might make rapid progress.

The claw technique Zhao Dehua used was a sinister and ruthless path of gouging out hearts and lungs, and flaying skin and flesh; a person with a righteous and upright character would never be able to utilize it to such a degree.

Li Miao could tell at a glance that Zhao Dehua had poor bone structure, and the reason he could train to the level of a second-rate master was because he was genuinely suited for this claw technique.

That bandit back then likely believed he couldn't escape the Jinyiwei (Imperial Guards)'s pursuit, which is why he deliberately “reformed” Zhao Dehua into a successor suitable for his legacy.

Zhao Dehua did not disappoint him either.

Of course, not everyone in this world acts according to their character. For example, Wang Hai's claw technique was even more sinister than Zhao Dehua's, but under Li Miao's command, he could restrain his habits and generally act as a good person.

Therefore, Li Miao did not make a hasty judgment but instead let the two of them clarify the events of that year.

Having served in the Jinyiwei (Imperial Guards) for twenty years, and with his own unfathomably high martial arts, he naturally had ways to discern whether the two were lying.

Mei Qinghe watched Zhao Dehua roll on the ground, howling, and scratching his ears until they bled, then shook her head.

She then turned to Li Miao and asked, “Senior, do you have an antidote?”

Li Miao raised an eyebrow: “What, you can't bear it?”

Mei Qinghe shook her head: “No.”

“I want to kill Zhao Dehua, not a madman who doesn't know why he's dying.”

“A muddled death is too easy for him.”

Mei Qinghe had originally thought that at the moment her great revenge was about to be exacted, she would be so excited that she would cry profusely.

But now, her heart was as still as water, calm as if she were observing someone else's affairs.

Only the true qi surged within her body, like a stove fire that had been smoldering inside her for fifteen years, burning dully in her chest, making her lips dry.

Li Miao raised his hand and tossed over a small packet: “Use this.”

“Stuff it into his mouth and use true qi to catalyze it; it will work in a moment.”

Mei Qinghe took the small packet, thanked Li Miao, turned, pinched Zhao Dehua's mouth open, and stuffed the antidote in.

Then she gripped Zhao Dehua's pulse point and transferred true qi into his body.

Gradually, Zhao Dehua stopped howling, and his limbs also stopped flailing.

After another stick of incense, his eyes regained clarity.

Zhao Dehua looked up at Mei Qinghe in front of him, his lips moved, and he finally spoke dryly: “You... you're not dead?”

His words were the same as when he first saw Mei Qinghe, only the first time he had been poisoned and, in his delirium, believed it was Mei Qinghe's mother's vengeful spirit seeking his life.

Now he was sober, knowing that Mei Qinghe was the little girl he had let go all those years ago, and she had come to seek revenge for her mother's murder.

Mei Qinghe nodded: “Yes, I survived.”

“I came down the mountain with the intent to die. From the moment I descended, only one of us could live.”

“Although I won't torture you like you tortured my mother back then, I also won't just let you die easily.”

Mei Qinghe struck, instantly sealing Zhao Dehua's major acupuncture points, blocking the circulation of his true qi, and making his limbs lose strength, allowing them only to flail uncontrollably.

“You tortured my mother for ten hours back then; I will stab you ten times. Every stick of incense, I will stab you once.”

“And, I will give you another choice.”

Mei Qinghe picked up the half-broken short sword and the half-broken long sword, then walked to Zhao Dehua's side.

She forcefully plunged the short sword into the ground, then released it and stood up.

The short sword stood upright in the ground, its sharp edge pressed close to Zhao Dehua's neck, raising goosebumps.

“This is the first stab.”

With that, the long sword pierced Zhao Dehua's left arm.

Blood splattered, and Zhao Dehua howled, rolling on the ground repeatedly.

His acupuncture points were sealed by Mei Qinghe; his limbs could move but were not under his control, only writhing uncontrollably at his sides.

Another stick of incense passed.

“The second stab.”

This repeated until the ninth stick of incense, by which time Zhao Dehua was covered in blood, with wounds of varying depths on his body, leaving a trail of gruesome bloodstains on the ground.

He had traveled the jianghu for many years, and the pain of wounds was not so unbearable for him.

What was truly unbearable was the process of slowly walking towards death.

He violently slammed his head against the ground, kowtowing repeatedly towards Mei Qinghe, his face covered in blood from the impacts.

“I had no choice! I had no choice! He forced me! He forced me!”

Mei Qinghe watched Zhao Dehua struggle on the ground, saying nothing.

It wasn't until the sky gradually brightened and the dawn appeared in the east that Zhao Dehua collapsed weakly on the ground, gasping for breath.

He mumbled incoherently.

“I had no choice...”

“I had no choice...”

Mei Qinghe walked in front of him.

“When you commit evil, you must pay for it.”

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“My mother, back then, was tortured by you and the Plum Blossom Bandit for ten hours.”

“The Plum Blossom Bandit didn't speak; you were the one who voluntarily took the insects out of your own ears and put them into hers.”

“This... this was your choice. You hated her. You didn't dare choose to hate the Plum Blossom Bandit; you only dared to choose to hate her, hate her for making you unable to continue being a good person.”

Mei Qinghe said softly.

“You always said you had no choice; now you have a choice.”

“This short sword has always been stuck in the ground; you can see it. You can impale yourself on it at any time to end your life, but you never dared to look at it.”

“Now it's the last stab. You can choose: will you do it yourself, or will I?”

Zhao Dehua stopped speaking.

“Have you chosen?” After a moment, Mei Qinghe asked softly.

Zhao Dehua still did not speak. He gritted his teeth and slowly moved his neck towards the short sword.

He wept continuously, his neck moving closer to the blade, then pulling away.

This repeated for a long time, yet there was still no movement.

Mei Qinghe looked into Zhao Dehua's eyes and said.

“You don't dare to choose.”

“You don't want to choose to live, and you don't dare to choose to die. You're not worthy of being a good person, and you don't dare to be a bad person.”

“You are not a good person forced into a corner; you are just a coward who dares not choose anything.”

Mei Qinghe kicked the hilt of the short sword, and the blade cut Zhao Dehua's neck, causing blood to gush out.

“In the end, you still need others to choose for you.”

Zhao Dehua struggled, seemingly wanting to argue something, but blood surged into his mouth and nose, only allowing him to make gurgling sounds.

He struggled for a while, then stopped moving.

Watching Zhao Dehua gradually lose his breath, Mei Qinghe slumped onto the ground.

She gasped for air, and tears finally streamed down her face.

Mei Qinghe didn't want to show any weakness in front of Zhao Dehua, because that might make Zhao Dehua no longer afraid.

So she had been trying to hold back her tears, working hard to keep her voice flat and maintain a cold demeanor.

Now, she had finally walked out of the mountain from fifteen years ago.

Li Miao stepped forward and patted Mei Qinghe's shoulder.

“Well done. He must have been terrified.”

Mei Qinghe finally burst into loud sobs.

Li Miao waved his hand: “Hey, hey, quiet down.”

“Last night, to let you take your revenge properly, I released sleeping gas to the nearby households.”

“It should be wearing off now. You control yourself and clean up the rooftops for them.”

“I've given you your reward. From now on, settle down and work for me.”

“Pack your things, go buy a sword. We'll set off in an hour.”

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