Wu Ming made a mistake. A mistake that cost Dianxia unnecessary hassle. It was only natural that his God punish him.

Despite this, despite being pinned to the ground by His Highness's sword through his stomach, Wu Ming wasn't afraid. He could never be afraid of His Highness. If His Highness thought this was what Wu Ming deserved, then it was. His Highness already owned him, anyway. Wu Ming's body, soul, and heart were His Highness's. Always. Ever since he was Hong'er, ever since Dianxia told him to live on for him and only him.

His Highness stood angrily above him, towering over Wu Ming --- fierce and powerful and so beautiful. Wu Ming couldn't look away. His Highness's rage was silent but potent in the air, and visible in the way his chest heaved beneath his white robes. Wu Ming couldn't help but shiver, his hands twitching as a sharp throb of pain radiates through his body from the movement. The sword kept him in place (as if he'd ever try to escape Dianxia.)

Wu Ming had mindlessly murdered people they weren't supposed to. But what else could he have done? They insulted His Highness. A shimmer of fury flickers in Wu Ming's dead, unbeating heart at the mere thought of those... those imbelices.

In His Highness's hand, there in his fist was a white flower clenched tightly. A pang shoots through Wu Ming at the sight of it. That was flower he had left for His Highness. Deep down, he knew Dianxia wouldn't like it, but he remembered from his days as young Hong'er that His Highness liked flowers. But that was years ago, before the fall of Xianle. His Highness deserves nice things after all he's been through. Wu Ming wanted nothing more than to provide that for His HIghness.

But, judging on the sword pierced through his upper body and Dianxia's anger, Dianxia didn't want that.