Different from before, this time Yu Nanzhi caught Ji Liao with a ghostly compulsion just as she was about to kiss the floor.
Stunned as she crashed against his chest, the spreading mint scent poisoned her senses like a drug. Once again in close proximity to Yu Nanzhi, Ji Liao felt the urge to die resurface. She tried to break free from his restraint, but how could her frail form possibly match Yu Nanzhi’s strength.
“Let me go…” Tears slid from the corners of her eyes, dripping onto the back of his hand, scalding hot as if they might burn his skin.
The pleading tone in her voice made Yu Nanzhi’s chest tighten inexplicably, and he released her.
However, the glass shards remained embedded in the sole of her foot. Under the pressure of her weight, the sharp pain returned. She retreated two steps but, unable to bear the stinging sensation, collapsed to the ground with a loud, jarring thud.
“I meant to say, your foot is injured,” Yu Nanzhi uttered abruptly.
Ji Liao’s heart clenched, and she retorted hoarsely, “Are you mocking me? What does such a minor injury matter…”
Her fingers quickly found the wounded area. Blood oozed from the gash where a glass shard was half-buried; the other half she had already pulled out without any precaution.
The blood kept flowing.
Clutching the glass shard in her palm, she used her other hand to extract the remaining fragments, as if oblivious to the pain. The stubborn one she dug out barehanded.
She was laughing, not even furrowing her brows, effortlessly excavating every piece of glass.
The sight sent chills down Yu Nanzhi’s spine. He never imagined a woman who feared pain could so calmly perform such a gruesome act.
“Look, aren’t they beautiful?” She opened her palm, revealing the bloodstained glass shards, each edge razor-sharp.
She continued, “Do you like it? Are you satisfied? Are you happy?”
Yu Nanzhi suddenly recalled his words from five years ago: if he suffered, she wouldn’t escape unscathed either.
Was she, like this, still deeply holding onto his words?
When he didn’t respond, she let her hand drop listlessly and let out a foolish chuckle, “Why pretend to be devoted in front of me? No matter how devoted, I can’t see it.”
This was her madness—one moment afraid of him, the next fearless, and always, always rambling incoherently.
Most lunatics were like her, always keeping others guessing.
A passing nurse glanced inside unintentionally, spotting the expanding pool of blood on the floor. She pushed the door open and entered, just in time to see Ji Liao sitting on the ground, extending the glass shards toward Yu Nanzhi.
The nurse glanced at Yu Nanzhi, then at Ji Liao, and mustered the courage to approach. “Miss Ji, let me treat your wound.”
“No! I don’t need it!” As expected, Ji Liao refused, waving her hand to push the nurse away. With red-rimmed eyes, she warned, “Helping me will bring you misfortune. Leave quickly, before the mad dog remembers you.”
Indeed, no one had dared forget Yu Nanzhi’s past decree: anyone who aided Ji Liao would be opposing him.
Cha Cha came first, A’Bao followed—neither met a good end.
Thus, Ji Liao didn’t dare go to the hospital when ill, not even a small clinic, because everyone was too afraid.
As the nurse hesitated, Yu Nanzhi barked, “Get out!”
And so, the door closed once more.
The hospital room was once again left with only Ji Liao and Yu Nanzhi.
She still feared him to an extreme degree, yet had no choice but to don her tattered armor and face him.
“Who are you putting on this act for?” Yu Nanzhi gripped Ji Liao’s chin again, speaking displeasedly.
This signature gesture felt like shackles to Ji Liao—no matter how hard she struggled, she couldn’t break free.
As if resigned, she faced him with an intensely mocking smile. “Aren’t you pleased to see me suffering? Yu Nanzhi, after all these years, your heart must be tormented—wanting me dead, yet unable to bear letting me die.”
Under her icy, shadowed gaze, a frost seemed to settle over Yu Nanzhi’s refined features. As if struck by the truth in her words, his fury surged in that instant, yet he refused to concede. “Which eye of yours sees me unable to bear your death?”
Ji Liao curled her lips in a sarcastic smile. “Neither of my eyes can see it.”
Yu Nanzhi turned cold all over, radiating a Satanic aura.
He was now trapped in indecision—clearly feeling resentment whenever he saw her, yet inexplicably wanting to correct her mindset when he saw her wallowing in self-pity and despair.
He feared this elusive feeling, feared sinking irretrievably into Ji Liao’s suffering, and feared forgetting Cheng Shuangshuang because of it…
The door cracked open slightly, and a tray carrying gauze, disinfectant, and hemostatic powder was pushed inside.
When the nurse outside met Yu Nanzhi’s gloomy eyes, her soul nearly shattered, and she almost collapsed to the floor.
Yet she still believed Yu Nanzhi cared for Ji Liao, if only a little. She was gambling—betting that he would help bandage Ji Liao’s wounds.
Because his resentment, at every moment, proved how helplessly he loved someone.
Shortly after the nurse left, Yu Nanzhi released Ji Liao, walked to the door, brought the tray to her side, and said coldly, “How could your sins be erased by death?”
His hand seized her ankle, and white hemostatic powder was swiftly sprinkled over the torn, bloody wound.
The searing sting forced a scream from Ji Liao, and she struggled to pull back her leg.
But who was Yu Nanzhi? How could he let her have her way?
“Don’t think of escaping. In this lifetime, you won’t escape my grasp. Stay obediently, and if I’m pleased, you might earn your freedom.”
“Ahhh!!” she screamed, resisting hysterically. “I endured five years of torment! They followed your orders and ground away all my love and hope for you! I have nothing left—what more do you want from me?”
“You still have your wretched life!”
She screamed, frantically clutching her hair. “My wretched life? If you want it, I’ll give it to you! Here, take it!”
Suddenly, she bit down hard on her tongue, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth, startling Yu Nanzhi’s heart.
Enraged, he gripped her jaw, forced her mouth open, but her teeth clamped down fiercely, biting his thumb and refusing to let go.
This mad-dog behavior felt like a blade carving into his heart. Yu Nanzhi’s pupils contracted, and he felt a sudden helplessness. “Don’t be like this…”
Don’t be like this…
The words were somewhat absurd.
Hadn’t she become like this entirely because of him? How had it turned into her fault instead?
Under the bright fluorescent light, Ji Liao obediently released her bite. She leaned back, pale-faced, beads of sweat glistening on her nose and forehead.
When he gently caressed her face, he noticed her trembling.
“Yu Nanzhi, I’m so tired… Could you please let me go…”
She was begging him, pleading with utter despair.
“Stop saying how pitiful Cheng Shuangshuang’s death was. The truth is, the truly pitiful one is me, not her.”