A second chance with my billionaire husband

Chapter 1864 - 439: Repaying Mother by Cutting Flesh—You’re the One Who’s Mad (Second Update)

"Feng’er, what are you doing? He’s blocking your way, he must die."

"Shut up." He was so angry that his face turned pale, his body swaying as if he was about to collapse.

"Feng’er." The woman walked over with concern.

He brushed her hand away, looking at her with disgust, a gaze that deeply wounded the woman.

"Feng’er, everything Mother did was for you, how can you not understand her?"

"Ahhhhh...." He clutched his head, screaming madly, the shrill cry piercing, filled with infinite despair and pain.

"Rong Qiuyi, you crazy woman, I spit... Stop spewing your hypocritical claims of doing it for my own good, it only disgusts me, you separated me and my brother for your twisted desires, made us pawns in your hands, husband-killing, child-slaying, seizing the throne, crime after crime, you deserve a thousand deaths."

He approached step by step, the woman shook her head: "Feng’er, anyone can misunderstand Mother, but not you, you cannot...."

"I only regret being born of you. In ancient times, Gao Li repaid his mother by cutting his flesh; today, I’ll repay you." Suddenly, he drew a dagger from his sleeve, its blade gleaming coldly, sharp enough to cut hair.

Glaring at her, he slashed the blade towards the snow-white arm...

The sharp blade split the skin, beads of blood surged out like red plum blossoms in the snow, both beautiful and tragic.

The woman looked at him expressionlessly: "You’re mad."

"You’re the mad one."

"You selfish, heartless woman, what sins did my brother and I commit in our past lives to be born to you and suffer so? My brother lived a lonely life, unloved by anyone. I will love him; I don’t want him to be lonely beneath the ground after death."

He dropped the dagger, carrying the cold corpse of the man from the bed on his back. So weak he was, under the man’s tall figure he collapsed like a mountain, his knees buckled, and he fell to the ground. He hastily turned to embrace the man: "Brother... I’m sorry... I didn’t mean it."

The man’s shoulders slumped, forever never to respond to him.

With difficulty, he hoisted him up, step by step toward the palace gates, leaving a trail of blood along the way.

"Brother, let’s go home...."

When he reached the gate, dark clouds rolled over the horizon, turbulence like a thousand troops charging, the fierce wind blowing the gates clattering, the long wind lifting his hair, the jade crown slipped off, and ink like hair danced wildly in the storm.

Beneath the swirling locks, was a comely face, like a painting.

The soul floating at the top of the hall saw the woman’s face and suddenly gasped, eyes widened in shock.

This face...

Lightning flashed, thunder roared, and the wind blew fiercely, suddenly a gust of wind sucked him abruptly, drawing him straight to a vortex in the sky...

"Sister...."

He shouted abruptly, sitting bolt upright from the bed, covered in cold sweat, his forehead drenched.

He breathed heavily, face pale as snow.

The lamp above the tent cast a dim glow throughout the tent, night was silent, and the surroundings were eerily cool.

Raising his hand he pinched his brow, everything from the dream receding rapidly, what did he dream of? He couldn’t recall it now...

He only knew that the answer terrified him, as if an invisible hand was stirring the vortex of his destiny...

This unmanageable feeling was truly awful.

Almost the moment he opened his eyes, Mo Sang, who had been resting by his bed, awoke, looking at him with concern: "Did you have a nightmare?"

Yun Miao looked at her lightly: "It’s nothing, go and rest."

Mo Sang poured a cup of hot tea and placed it on the stool by his bed before leaving the tent.

Yun Miao kneaded his brow, draping a coat as he stepped out of the tent. The island’s deep night was extraordinarily serene, only the sound of unknown insects added a touch of elegance to the night.

The remnants of the bonfire where meat had been roasted emitted a faint, dull glow, stars and moon hung low, seemingly within reach.

In the depth of night, the mind grew clearer, he closed his eyes, letting his thoughts sink into memories.

Suddenly, his eyes slightly opened, a sharp light flashed in them, his gaze shooting like a cold star towards a certain direction.

A pebble flew fast from his hand, followed by a muffled thud, a dark figure fell in the shadows.

Mo Sang pressed a person forward, kicked the crook of their leg, forcing them to kneel on the ground.

Yun Miao raised an eyebrow at the kneeling man, playing with a smooth pebble in his hand, his long brows sharp as swords, exuding a casual yet cold killing aura.

The man did not speak, head hung low, seemingly accepting fate.

Yun Miao suddenly curved his lips, waved his hand: "Let him go."

Mo Sang asked incredulously: "Master...."

Yun Miao raised an eyebrow, and Mo Sang dared not speak further, glaring fiercely at the man, "Get lost."

The man lifted his eyes, taking a deep look at the young man sitting alone in the night, dignified and proud, his brow touched with frost, lonely and cold.

In a flash, he disappeared into the night.

Mo Sang felt a chill through her limbs, that man...

She looked in shock at the young man, who glanced up at the sky, a subtle smile touched his lips.

"Is it you returning?"

——

Yun Miao stayed on the island for only a few days. Once the oil extraction stabilized, he continued east with Cilin’s ship.

Mo Sang, having to stabilize the Hasan and Muna tribes, had to stay on the island. She stood by the sea, watching the ship sail farther until it turned into a small black dot on the horizon, eventually lowering her head in disappointment.

Then she pulled herself together; more important matters awaited her, she must not let him down.

The great ship sailed the sea for three days, arriving at a small port after three days, it was a moderately sized port city connected to the mainland. While Cilin restocked supplies, he took Ah Fu to wander around the city.

Before going out, he dressed both of them, darkening their faces, wearing long clothes and pants wrapped in Muslim scarves, walking down the street without attracting attention.

Yun Miao, on the run at sea before, hadn’t had the chance to properly appreciate the cultures of the world, took Ah Fu wandering aimlessly in the city, found an open-air teahouse, and ordered two cups of water.

Ah Fu looked at the pastries on the neighboring table, blinking his eyes pleadingly at Yun Miao.

Yun Miao smiled helplessly: "Little glutton."

Pointing at the pastries on the next table, he called to the owner: "Bring a serving of these pastries."

The enthusiastic owner immediately brought the pastries over, Yun Miao was about to pay. Dylan had given him some local currency when they set out, but upon touching his pockets, he realized he had spent it all buying food for the boy earlier.

The owner, seeing he couldn’t pay, immediately changed his expression.

Ah Fu stuck out his tongue, quickly stuffing pastries into his mouth, asking indistinctly: "Big brother, what do we do now?"

"What else? Run." As soon as Yun Miao spoke, he took off like an arrow from a bow, Ah Fu gaped in astonishment, reacting quickly, dashing off before the owner could grab anything, and didn’t forget to snatch the last pastry on his way out.

Ah Fu, thin and nimble like a monkey, quickly left the owner far behind in a few steps.

The owner waved his arms, and suddenly, a group of men with weapons emerged from nowhere, chasing after them fiercely.

Ah Fu wanted to cry without tears: "Is it necessary to send so many people after us just for two cups of tea and a plate of pastries?"

The whole street was in chaos due to the two’s flight.