"Mother, I'm here to save you."
Feng Yun vaguely heard her son's voice, but when she looked up, she could not see him.
She was very tired, both weary and exhausted, her body seemingly pulled by an invisible force, as if about to collapse.
A hand reached across, drawing her into Ta Xue's head.
Pei Jue took the knife from her hand and murmured softly, "Ah, Lady Yun, you've suffered."
Feng Yun leaned against his chest, soft and limply, unable to move even a bit.
After such a long time apart, they should have been filled with excitement.
But she couldn't muster any enthusiasm.
Neither the split-second tacit understanding between them nor Wen Xingsu's defeat could spark excitement in her.
Slowly, she put her arms around his waist, "I feel so terrible, Pei Jue."
Pei Jue held her tightly, "I know."
She had killed Wen Xingsu with her own hands...
There was nothing more distressing than this for her.
