Xiao Ya and Aunt Liu on the side were already so frightened they didn’t dare make a sound, their bodies stiff, almost kneeling to apologize.
The man completely ignored these two people. Without saying a word, he bent down, scooped up Gu Ran from the floor in one swift motion, his face dark and lips pressed tightly together, and strode toward the bedroom without looking back.
Gu Ran stared blankly at the man holding her—that man of extraordinary presence, his features as perfect as if meticulously carved by Nüwa, exuding an aloof and noble aura of someone untouchable.
With just one glance, Gu Ran’s tears burst forth once more. Like a kitten retracting its claws, she tightly clutched the man’s clothes, curling up and nestling into his embrace.
In her ears was the man’s strong, steady heartbeat; in her nostrils, the faint scent of tobacco—a smell both familiar and strange to her.
In the short ten-plus minutes since waking up, never had she been so acutely aware that she was still alive as she was at this moment.
The man’s footsteps paused. He didn’t want to look at the girl in his arms; he had had enough of her cold, blade-like gaze.
He had clearly resolved to let go, yet upon hearing she had woken up, he couldn’t control the urge to see this girl one more time.
He had left a room full of executives behind and rushed over just like that.
And when he saw her fall to the floor moments ago, his heart had still uncontrollably ached.
This was the girl he cherished and loved with all his heart. Though he had decided to release her, though he wanted to lock away his feelings, seeing her in thin pajamas, barefoot and fallen on the ground—in that moment, his heart shattered along with hers.
This woman could so easily disrupt his peace of mind.
He had intended to watch from afar, to leave after just one glance, but in the end, he couldn’t let go.
But now, what was she doing? She was crying—was it because he had held her?
Did she detest him so much that even being held by him was unbearable?
Fu Sijue remained silent, carrying Gu Ran all the way back to the bedroom, gently laying her on the bed.
For some reason, Fu Sijue felt that Gu Ran was very different now. Throughout the journey back to the room, he sensed that this woman was clinging to him.
But recalling everything that had happened recently, Fu Sijue laughed mockingly to himself. He must be insane to have such an illusion—this woman clearly loathed him, so much so that she would rather risk her life to escape him.
At this thought, Fu Sijue felt as if a heavy stone were pressing on his heart, making it hard to breathe. His steadfast heart, whenever it encountered this woman, would be utterly shattered.
Fu Sijue withdrew his hand from beneath Gu Ran’s neck. He knew this woman despised him. To flee this place, to escape him, she had stood in the rain and snow for a full day and night, all to force him to let her go.
Never before had Fu Sijue felt so powerless.
He could control everything; everyone bowed before him—except this woman. She was like his natural nemesis, wielding the sharpest blade against him, yet even battered and bruised, he couldn’t bring himself to let go.
But this time, Fu Sijue was afraid. Li Junnan was right—forcibly keeping a woman whose heart wasn’t with him wasn’t torment for her, but for himself.
Watching Gu Ran weeping uncontrollably on the bed, Fu Sijue’s already shattered heart completely crumbled into dust. He finally made a resolute decision.
“Ranran, if you can recover this time, I’ll let you go. I will never bother you again in this lifetime.”
Fu Sijue spoke the most decisive words, yet each syllable felt like a thousand cuts to his heart – so painful he could barely breathe. But he couldn’t bear to watch this woman hurt herself any longer, leaving him no choice but to release her.
Gu Ran continued crying. She had so much she wanted to say, but the moment she saw Fu Sijue, all words stuck in her throat, leaving only uncontrollable anguish.
Her hand clutched tightly at the corner of Fu Sijue’s clothes, holding on desperately as if letting go would make this man disappear before her eyes.
The gods had heard her dying prayers and returned her to Fu Sijue’s side, to a time before all mistakes had begun.
Just as she was overwhelmed with joy, the man’s clear yet deep voice reached her ears.
Each word, like the chill of this severe winter, poured over her heart like a raging storm, extinguishing the faint joy she had just felt.
Gu Ran looked up, her delicate face streaked with tears, adding a sense of betrayed fragility to her already pale complexion.
Her eyes, misted with faint moisture, gleamed with complex and contradictory shadows. The light she had barely managed to gather shattered instantly in her pupils the moment Fu Sijue finished his last sentence.
Fu Sijue gazed intently at the woman on the bed. Their eyes met, conveying indescribable complex emotions in silence.
In Gu Ran’s eyes were the joy of rebirth after calamity, shock at the man’s ruthless words, and anxiety to hold onto him firmly.
Fu Sijue’s brow slightly furrowed. The gentle refinement he only showed around women had long vanished amid Gu Ran’s repeated hurts.
Now, Fu Sijue retained only restrained reluctance and the determination born from profound pain.
Feeling the tug at his clothes, Fu Sijue looked down at those soft small hands. Hardening his heart, he forcefully pulled away the gripped corner of his garment.
The movement was rather abrupt. Lying on the bed, Gu Ran clearly felt the strong pull, but she didn’t dare let go. She opened her mouth, but in her extreme anxiety, couldn’t utter a single word.
The more anxious she became, the more tears streamed from Gu Ran’s eyes again. All her reluctance and fear could only find release in this way now.
Gu Ran clung tightly to Fu Sijue’s clothes, her whole body shifting to the edge of the bed due to his excessive force, yet she still refused to release her grip.
“Gu Ran, what exactly do you want? Do you find this amusing? Will you only be satisfied after trampling all my pride?”
Fu Sijue couldn’t understand this woman. She had been avoiding him like the plague recently, forbidding him, the master, from setting foot in the Tan Palace Main Building because she disliked him so.
If not for Liu Ma reporting that she had been calling his name repeatedly, he would never have stepped into the main building. He feared making her angry, feared giving her another reason to leave this place.
Hearing these words, Gu Ran felt her heart ache terribly, as if pierced deeply by countless sharp blades.
Gu Ran finally understood the pain Fu Sijue had felt in their previous life. She had heartlessly pushed this man away time and again, trampled on his pride and self-respect repeatedly, and crushed his gestures of goodwill into the mud—how excruciating that must have been!
Gu Ran opened her mouth once more, but her throat seemed blocked by something. Several times she tried to speak, yet the words refused to come out.
The more she struggled, the more frantic she became; the more frantic she grew, the less she could speak—trapped in a vicious cycle with no escape.
In the end, left with no other choice, Gu Ran could only clutch Fu Sijue’s clothes to pull herself up from the bed.