Yan Li raised her brush—the ink blade took form: crimson as blood. She brought it down.
---
— Yan Li.
The voice came from behind: weak, but firm. She froze, then turned.
Wang Tao was standing—staggering, bleeding, but standing. Supporting him was Wei Lian, his steps steady and resolute.
— I... — Yan Li gripped her brush tighter — I have to do this. If she lives...
Wang Tao took a step forward. His muscles groaned, his skin burned, but his expression remained calm.
— I know.
He took another step.
— But not you.
Yan Li trembled.
— Why?
Wang Tao stopped directly in front of her. His body was broken, his smile stained red. He placed a hand on her shoulder, his touch surprisingly gentle.
— Because — he looked into her eyes — your hands are still clean. And I won't let them be stained.
Tears began to fall.
— But you already carry so much...
Wang Tao smiled—a small, sad curve of the lips.
— I know. But this weight — he glanced at the Shadow — is mine. It always has been.
He moved past her. Yan Li tried to reach out.
— Tao, don't—
— Yan Li — he turned back — you came here to save me. Now, let me protect you too.
He moved forward: short, limping steps. He looked solitary, desolate, as if he were carrying the entire world on his back. He walked until he reached the Shadow. The panda stepped away obediently, as if it understood the gravity of the moment.
Wang Tao knelt and drew a poisoned dagger.
The Shadow looked at him. Ambushed and captured by a mere Qi Absorption boy—it was impossible, yet it was real. Even so, her pride would not allow her to beg.
— You... — she coughed — you will regret this. The Invisible Hand...
— I know — Wang Tao cut her off. — But at least you won't be the one to tell them.
He raised the dagger and brought it down: swift, precise, straight to the throat. The Shadow tried to speak, but only crimson flowed out. Then: silence.
Dead.
Wang Tao stood there staring at the body for a moment. He rose and turned toward Yan Li. She was crying—not for the Shadow, but for him. She understood: He did this for me, so I wouldn't have to.
Wang Tao walked toward her and collapsed. Yan Li caught him.
— Idiot... — she sobbed — you idiot...
Wang Tao smiled weakly.
— I'm sorry. But I couldn't let you...
He didn't finish. He slipped into unconsciousness. Yan Li held him close and wept, because she loved him, and because it hurt to see the one you love sacrifice their own soul for yours.
Wei Lian watched everything from a distance: nervous, moved, and heavy-hearted. He observed with double the attention, trying to understand what kind of path leads a person to carry such a burden.
And perhaps, he began to learn how to carry his own.