That man who had made her cry her heart out beyond the pages of the book.
He was not a mere character on paper; he was alive before her, enduring hellish torment.
“Ah…”
A low growl, almost inhuman, rumbled from deep within his throat, filled with desperate ferocity.
Ye Mochen’s eyes snapped open.
They were completely swallowed by crimson, devoid of reason, consumed only by a madness to destroy everything.
He stared fixedly into the darkness beyond the cage, as if the entire world he despised stood there.
Ran Weiyi’s heart clenched painfully—not from fear, but from an overwhelming ache.
She did not retreat. Instead, she took step after step toward that prison cage.
The cool, ethereal fragrance around her spread like mist, quietly permeating the air.
The frenzied, struggling Ye Mochen suddenly stilled.
His crimson eyes moved sluggishly, his nostrils flaring slightly, as if catching something amidst the chaos of his senses.
That indescribable scent was like a gentle hand, softly soothing his boiling blood, bringing a strange sense of calm.
The madness in his eyes seemed to recede by an imperceptible fraction, replaced by a flicker of confusion.
Ran Weiyi stopped before the cage.
She could clearly see the bloodstains on his wrists and ankles, rubbed raw by the iron chains, stark and glaring.
Curled up there, he did not resemble the emperor who controlled the economic lifeline of Shencheng, but more like a wounded, abandoned beast, trapped and battered by the world.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Her voice was soft, carrying a soothing power that echoed in the vast, silent hall.
Ye Mochen’s body trembled violently.
He lifted his head, his crimson gaze piercing through the iron bars, focusing for the first time on a living person.
It was an extraordinarily beautiful girl.
She wore a simple white dress, her long black hair falling softly over her shoulders, her delicate face pure and stunningly cold.
She stood there quietly, her gaze holding no fear, no disgust—only an intense, unreadable ache that seemed to thicken the air.
[Sister, his Abhorrence Value has stopped rising!]
Doudou’s voice carried a hint of excitement.
She reached out, her slender, pale fingers unhesitatingly touching the cold iron bars of the cage.
“Ye Mochen.”
She called his name softly, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion.
The man showed no reaction to her call, the killing intent in his crimson eyes intensifying.
When he was just a step away, he suddenly raised his hand.
That hand, with its distinct knuckles yet stained with blood, lunged fiercely toward her slender neck.
Ran Weiyi did not dodge.
She simply watched him quietly, her eyes washed with tears, so clear they reflected his maddened form.
“I’ve come to save you.”
Those words were light, yet they struck Ye Mochen’s chaotic mind like a thunderbolt.
Just as his hand was about to touch her skin, Ye Mochen’s movement froze abruptly.
His crimson eyes contracted sharply, locking onto that cold, stunning face outside the cage.
Save him?
In this world, everyone wished for his death.
Everyone feared him, despised him, and longed for his immediate disappearance.
Yet this woman said she would save him.
An incomprehensible growl escaped his throat—not ferocious, but tinged with a fragile confusion.
[Ding! World Abhorrence Value: 89.9%!]Doudou’s cheerful voice rang out in Ran Weiyi’s mind.
[Sister, it’s going down! It’s really going down!]
The cool, medicinal scent penetrated his nostrils even more clearly, forcefully soothing every nerve that had been screaming in agitation.
Why did the scent on her… smell so good?
It made him so greedy for it.
Seeing the change in his eyes, Ran Weiyi felt a surge of joy in her heart.
It worked! The Ethereal Fragrance naturally emanating from her body had a calming effect on Ye Mochen. This was wonderful!
Summoning her courage, she reached out her hand, cautiously and tentatively, and grasped his hand that was suspended in mid-air, stained with blood.
His hand was cold, as cold as ice.
The moment their skin touched, Ye Mochen’s body jolted violently, as if struck by an electric current.
He wanted to pull his hand back, but the girl held on tightly.
Her palm was soft and warm.
That intoxicating fragrance seemed to flow continuously from their touching skin into his entire body, soothing every inch of his aching bones and blood.
His handsome face, twisted in pain, gradually relaxed.
Like a ferocious beast that had finally found a harbor, he retracted all his claws and fangs, simply staring at her in a daze, his eyes filled with vulnerability and dependence.
Outside the door, the bodyguards watching through the observation window and the doctors who had rushed over upon hearing the news were all frozen in place.
What were they seeing?
That madman whom even the strongest sedatives couldn’t control…
Was now being obediently held by the hand of a frail, delicate girl?
Inside the iron cage was a hellish silence.
Outside the iron cage was a state of utter, ghostly shock.
That blood-stained hand, icy and piercing to the bone, was now enveloped by a pair of completely opposite small hands.
Warm, soft.
The violent, rampaging force within Ye Mochen’s body seemed to have found an outlet for release, yet also seemed to be gently blocked by an invisible barrier.
Instinctively, he wanted to break free from this unfamiliar touch.
But those hands, seemingly delicate and weak, held him tightly, firmly, with an unyielding resolve.
That Ethereal Fragrance he was madly obsessed with was no longer an elusive scent drifting through the air.
The fragrance, following their closely pressed skin, forcefully seeped into every one of his parched meridians, washing over each of his stinging nerves.
The pain was receding.
The madness was subsiding.
Ran Weiyi’s heart pounded wildly in her chest.
Not out of fear, but because of a sharp pang of heartache.
Seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, the tip of her nose instantly tingled with sourness.
The Ye Mochen from the book—abandoned by the whole world, licking his wounds alone in the darkness, ultimately heading toward destruction—was now alive and right in front of her.
He wasn’t a madman.
He was just… in too much pain.
“Don’t be afraid.”
Her voice was soft, carrying a barely noticeable tremor, yet imbued with a soothing power.
“I’m here.”
“I won’t let you hurt anymore.”
Ye Mochen’s long eyelashes fluttered slightly, as if he were struggling to process the meaning of her words.
He still didn’t speak, but instead used all his strength to clumsily, yet tightly, grasp her hand in return.
Her heart melted completely.
The air outside the iron cage seemed to have solidified into a tangible mass, suffocating to breathe.
The white-haired old man known as the “Miracle Doctor” stared with eyes as wide as bronze bells, his mouth agape but unable to utter a sound.
In his lifelong medical career, he had never witnessed such a scene that defied all medical logic.
Medication was ineffective.
Electroshock therapy was ineffective.Psychic Soothing was ineffective.
The tyrant, who had been deemed incurable, actually calmed down just by holding hands with a girl who looked like she could be blown over by a gust of wind?
“Open the door.”
A clear yet gentle female voice broke the eerie silence.
She was not speaking to the beast trapped in the cage.