The taste of blood lingered on his lips as his body twitched, helpless. He should be dead.

"Rise," Jingliu whispered, her voice a velvet command, "so I can break you once more."

Yingxing gasped, his voice rough like a beast. But his words were silenced as her blade thrust into him again. Over and over, his flesh tore, but something inside him stirred-hungry. "Marvelous..." He grunted, feeling his wounds stitch back together, muscles trembling with new strength. His mind was numb, but his body refused to die.

As the sword pierced him once more, he caught it-gripping it with bare hands, and rose to face her. His blood-red eyes burned into hers.

Jingliu stepped closer, her slender fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. "Do you remember now?" she purred, her lips brushing against his ear.