Chapter 9: The Cruel Hairpin Sting

It was a remarkable coincidence.

Today, Li Shou returned to the Meng residence. Following his usual habit, he first went to the main hall to pay his respects to Old Madam Meng before heading toward Xuanyuan Terrace.

On his way, passing through the garden, he, Meng Renping, and Ji Kuan heard a commotion in the garden. Nearby, servants were watching from a distance in small groups, not daring to approach.

Ji Kuan was curious and very eager to take a look.

As the eldest son of the household, Meng Renping naturally felt he should investigate whatever was happening.

However, with His Highness present, neither dared to act on their own initiative, so they both turned to look at Li Shou.

Li Shou raised an eyebrow slightly. For some reason, during the two breaths it took him to decide whether to go, he unexpectedly thought of his eldest female cousin.

They hadn't been able to speak properly last time; if he encountered her again during this visit, he might be able to ask her some questions regarding her dreams from a different angle.

He nodded immediately.

Subsequently, the three of them followed the sound into the garden. From a distance, they saw two pairs of master and servant tearing at each other on the grass beneath a ginkgo tree, each pair fighting their own battle, tangled together in a heap, fighting with great fervor.

Meng Renping was greatly alarmed.

Ji Kuan was equally shocked.

With his keen eyesight, Li Shou recognized one of the two tangled heaps. One of the people in it was exactly the eldest female cousin he had just been thinking about, and he was instantly invigorated.

The four people fighting in heaps were unaware that someone had arrived, continuing to fight with total devotion.

Baozhu and Jixiang were pulling each other's hair, neither yielding, fiercely scratching and clawing at each other's faces. Both were in a wretched state, with bloody wounds on their faces, occasionally biting one another as they rolled around on the ground, looking no different from street brawlers.

Both sides were evenly matched, and for a moment, there was no winner.

On the side of Meng Shisan and Meng Meijing, however, it seemed a winner had already been decided.

Meng Meijing lay stiffly on the ground, pinned down by Meng Shisan, who was sitting astride her waist. Both had disheveled hair and rumpled clothing; one on top and one below, both chests heaving as they gasped for breath.

It was evident the struggle had been intense.

Strangely, at this very moment, neither of them moved an inch.

Due to the angle, the three men could not see the condition of Meng Meijing's face when they first arrived.

Only when they drew closer did they discover with horror that Meng Meijing's slender neck was being pressed against the tip of a golden hairpin held in Meng Shisan's hand. With a single exertion of force from Meng Shisan, a bloody hole would be pierced through Meng Meijing's throat.

It wasn't that Meng Meijing didn't want to move; it was that she didn't dare.

It wasn't that Meng Shisan didn't dare to move; it was that if she did, blood would surely flow.

Meng Meijing dared not move or speak, while Meng Shisan was filled with ferocity, glaring down at the Meng Meijing beneath her like a predatory wolf, as if she might snap her jaws open at any moment to devour her.

"Being crippled is no matter; being dead is even better. I'll handle the burial, Miss."

Meng Meijing's face was pale, her lips trembling, her eyes fixed on the golden hairpin in Meng Shisan's hand. She suddenly remembered those words Meng Shisan had said to Baozhu before the fight began.

Thinking of it now, it turned out those words weren't just meant for Jixiang, but for her as well.

Meng Liangchen truly dared to bury her!

Whether it was Jixiang or herself, Meng Liangchen truly harbored murderous intent!

Realizing this fact, the ten-year-old Meng Meijing finally felt true terror. Tears raced from her eyes as she pleaded for mercy in a trembling, low voice.

"Sister, please don't kill me..."

"Sister, I was wrong..."

Li Shou never would have expected that in the two times he saw Meng Shisan, she was fighting both times, and it was always the same person.

The first time, she gave Meng Meijing two slaps; the second time, she held a golden hairpin directly to Meng Meijing's throat.

The first time was merely a lesson; the second time, she intended to settle the matter once and for all.

His expression remained calm, but his heart was a tempest of shock.

Although Meng Liangchen was five years older than Meng Meijing, Meng Meijing had been raised in pampered luxury, whereas Meng Liangchen had barely survived through mistreatment. Despite the age difference, the two sisters were similar in height and build, though Meng Meijing was healthy and robust, unlike the thin, malnourished Meng Liangchen.

One wouldn't even need to touch her; it seemed a strong wind could blow her away.

Yet even so, she forcefully suppressed Meng Meijing, holding the girl's life in her hands to do with as she pleased.

This eldest female cousin was even more powerful than he had imagined.

Physically, she might be frail, but mentally and spiritually, she was absolutely fierce.

If Meng Shisan knew she had received such an evaluation in Li Shou's heart, she would surely curl her lip in disdain.

Though she was currently a mortal and this human body was quite weak, acting as an invisible burden, who was she?

She was the Great Cricket Demon who had already survived a thousand-year lightning tribulation!

In the old days, when nine bolts of heavenly lightning gathered over Jinling, blotting out the sun like a living hell, she had faced them alone to prevent her ancestral temple from being implicated. When the lightning struck, turning the temple to dust, she had met the heavenly bolts single-handedly, enduring all nine of them through sheer force of will.

If the lightning tribulation couldn't kill her, then a mere mortal like Meng Meijing—even if this human body was useless—could not touch her. Her soul as a Great Demon, cultivated for over a thousand years, remained. With the tenacious will that had allowed her to survive the cruel struggle for existence and ascend as a Great Demon, she would surely make Meng Meijing remember this moment for a lifetime.

She would never dare offend her again!

"It is good that you know you were wrong," Meng Shisan said, her eyes indifferent and her tone flat, slow, and helpless. "We are sisters; we should not be like this, yet you insist on provoking me."

As she spoke, the golden hairpin pressed even closer to Meng Meijing's skin. The cold, dangerous sensation nearly made Meng Meijing scream.

Fortunately, she managed to hold it back in time.

She was afraid!

She was afraid that a scream would infuriate Meng Liangchen and cause the hairpin to truly plunge into her throat!

Seeing that the girl was clearly terrified enough to scream, yet was smart enough to choke back the sound at the critical moment, turning it into a raspy, wheezing noise, Meng Shisan lifted her left hand, which had been pressing down on Meng Meijing's shoulder, and patted Meng Meijing's cheek with satisfaction.

"That's more like it."

But before Meng Meijing could catch her breath, Meng Shisan's hand, tightly gripping the hairpin, shifted. With a sudden, unstoppable burst of strength, she drove the hairpin directly down into Meng Meijing's left palm.

"Ah—!"

Meng Meijing's scream lasted only a second before the excruciating pain caused her to lose consciousness in the next.

From the moment Meng Shisan held the hairpin to Meng Meijing's throat, she had never intended for a peaceful end.

The piercing scream caused Jixiang and Baozhu to stop their fighting simultaneously and look over.

When they saw that the golden hairpin had pierced straight through Meng Meijing's left palm, with fresh blood continuously flowing from the hole, Jixiang opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

Baozhu was also paralyzed with fear, her eyes unable to move from Meng Meijing's bloody palm to her mistress's pale, translucent face.

Meng Shisan released the blood-stained hairpin and slowly stood up.

After the struggle, her strength was spent. Not only was her hair disheveled, but her clothing was completely distorted from being torn and rolled in the dirt, leaving her covered in patches of black and gray, with bits of grass stuck in her cascading black hair.

Yet, her face was strangely clean.

Like the slender, fair hands that had committed the act, it was as white as jade.