OBS Chapter 772 Lin Ping's Tragic Condition: Pierced Through the Throat by a Barrage of Arrows from
Chapter 772 Lin Ping's Tragic Condition: Pierced Through the Throat by a Barrage of Arrows from
The night was as dark as ink, with only a few cold stars scattered about, yet not a single ray of light could penetrate the two-zhang-deep trap to illuminate Lin Ping's gradually cooling body. The stench of blood permeated and solidified in the confined space, mingling with the earthy stench, making one want to vomit. The jagged wooden stakes, now soaked in blood, added to the horror.
After an unknown amount of time—perhaps an hour, or perhaps a watchman's drum—a rustling sound came from above the trap, accompanied by heavy breathing and hushed conversation.
"...Are you sure it fell here?" a hoarse male voice asked, tinged with uncertainty.
“That’s right, the boss saw it with his own eyes. That woman was tripped by our tripwire and fell straight down,” another younger voice replied, with a hint of self-satisfaction in its tone.
"Hmph, we finally killed her. Brother One-Eyed's bounty is now ours," a hoarse male voice sneered. "Go down and check to make sure she's really dead. Don't leave any future trouble."
Then, a thick rope was slowly lowered, and a man carrying a lantern slid down it. The dim light instantly illuminated the horrific scene at the bottom of the trap. The man hissed and gasped; despite being used to seeing death, the sight before him still made his scalp tingle.
Lin Ping's body was riddled with arrows, lying slumped between the wooden stakes like an abandoned rag doll. Blood soaked the ground beneath her, forming a dark red pool. Her eyes remained wide open, staring blankly at the small patch of night sky illuminated by the lamplight above the trap, as if still holding onto a last trace of resentment and bitterness.
"Damn it, she's really... really turned into a hedgehog." The man muttered to himself, mustering his courage to step forward and gently kick Lin Ping's arm with his toe. The arm was stiff and unresponsive. He then squatted down and reached out to check Lin Ping's breath; it was icy cold, without a breath.
"How is it going?" came a hoarse male voice urging from above.
“He’s dead, Brother Wang,” the man shouted, his voice trembling slightly. “His eyes aren’t even closed. It’s really weird.”
The hoarse male voice, referred to as "Brother Wang," the leader, shouted from above: "It's good that she's dead! Search her body for anything valuable, then... dispose of the body and throw it far away so no one can easily find it."
"Understood!" the man replied, and began searching Lin Ping's body. Besides some loose silver and a plain jade pendant, Lin Ping had nothing else. The man stuffed these items into his pocket, a greedy glint in his eyes.
"Is this all?" He was somewhat disappointed, then spat out, "You poor, pathetic woman!"
He stood up and shouted upwards, "Brother Wang, there's nothing valuable, just a few pieces of silver and a broken piece of jade. What should we do with the body? It's down in this trap..."
"Idiot!" Brother Wang cursed from above. "Just drag her up here, find a mass grave, and dump her there. Are you suggesting we keep her alive to erect a tombstone? Hurry up, and get to the point!"
The man dared not delay, found another rope, and hurriedly tied Lin Ping's body up. The men above then worked together to pull the body up. When Lin Ping's body, riddled with arrows, was pulled out of the trap, the men above gathered around, and upon seeing this scene, they all fell silent.
"Damn it!" Brother Wang frowned, glancing at her with disgust. "Third brother, you and fifth brother, drag her to the mass grave in the west of the city, the sooner the better!"
"Alright, Brother Wang." The two younger men replied, found a dilapidated cart, and threw Lin Ping's body onto it like a dead dog. The body bounced on the rough wooden plank, and a small silver hairpin engraved with a plum blossom slipped quietly from her clothes, falling to the ground with a crisp sound, but was ignored by everyone.
The cart creaked and groaned as it carried Lin Ping's cold body into the darkness. Beside the trap, Brother Wang gestured for his men to retract the rope, then threw some withered branches and leaves into the trap to cover up the traces before hurriedly leaving with his men, as if nothing had happened.
The night wind blew, stirring up the dust on the ground, gradually covering the fallen plum blossom silver hairpin.
In the overgrown, bone-strewn mass grave west of the city, Lin Ping's body was carelessly tossed aside on a sloping hillside. Several stray dogs, drawn by the scent of blood, lingered in the distance, whimpering softly.
A light rain began to fall from the sky, the cold rain lashing against Lin Ping's wide-open face, washing away the bloodstains on her cheeks, but unable to dispel the eternal desolation and resentment in her eyes.
She hadn't expected the bandits' trap to be so formidable. The poisonous fog they set up restricted her power and internal energy, rendering her formidable Heavenly Realm strength completely useless. She could only use her physical strength like an ordinary martial artist, at most equivalent to the internal energy of a minor Profound Realm cultivator. As a result, the arrows easily pierced her body, leaving her helplessly riddled with arrows. Two fatal crossbow bolts pierced her throat, causing her mouth to gape wide open and her little tongue to protrude, a sight that was incredibly bizarre and terrifying!
The area beneath Lin Ping was also a mess. When the crossbow bolt pierced her throat, warm liquid flowed between her legs, and yellow filth sprayed from her anus onto her leather shorts. Both excrement and urine were flowing, a testament to the horrific state of her death.
Only the plum blossom silver hairpin left beside the trap, occasionally flashing a faint silver light under the washing of the rain, seemed to be silently telling the story of a woman named Lin Ping who once came, who fought, and who ultimately perished in such a tragic way in the heart of this ruthless bandit's den and the darkness in people's hearts.
The rain poured down harder and harder, as if trying to wash away all the sins and injustices of the world. Yet, some marks, once left, can never be erased. On the mass grave, the wind rustled the grass, as if weeping, as if lamenting. But could that deep-seated resentment and hatred truly dissipate with the end of life? No one knows.