Lu Nanzhan felt as though he had been betrayed again and again. The blood in his veins began screaming madly, kill her, kill her, she is no different from all those people who hurt you.
Fragments of his childhood flashed before his eyes. In his hand was a dagger covered in blood, and lying in a pool of crimson was his mother.
A violent headache split through his skull as the world around him spun uncontrollably. Lu Nanzhan suddenly rushed downstairs and grabbed a sharp dagger.
Behind him, Butler Zhou cried out in alarm, “Mr. Lu!”
Mr. Lu seemed to be having another episode, worse than every previous one. His eyes were filled with bloodthirsty red.
Lu Nanzhan ignored Butler Zhou’s shouts completely. Clutching the dagger, he strode upstairs. He seemed to have entirely lost his rationality, his eyes consumed by madness and sickness as three words echoed endlessly in his mind:
Kill her! Kill her!
Scene after scene surfaced in Lu Nanzhan’s mind. Mocking laughter and vicious insults, provocatively dressed women, men constantly coming and going, a child’s cries, blood-soaked images. He could not piece them together into a complete memory, could not form a familiar face, yet every fragment clung to him like a nightmare, suffocating him.
Kill her! Everyone who hurts and betrays you deserves to die.
Song Qingxian vaguely sensed that Lu Nanzhan had gone mad again, even worse than before. She could no longer care about anything else. Tearing the black blindfold from her eyes, she hurried toward the stairs to find him.
The moment she reached the stairway, she saw Lu Nanzhan holding a knife that gleamed with a sinister cold light. His eyes were scarlet as he slowly approached her. His fingers pressed forcefully against her eyes, and Song Qingxian felt as though her eyeballs were about to burst from the pressure.
Lu Nanzhan’s voice sounded as if it came from hell itself.
“Xianxian, why won’t you behave?”
Song Qingxian wanted to run, but her legs felt filled with lead, unable to move even half a step. Clutching the stair railing tightly, her face pale and her voice trembling, she desperately tried to soothe him.
“Azhan, don’t do this. You love me, don’t you? You can’t bear to hurt me, right?”
Lu Nanzhan released her eyes. Because of the force he had used, her eyes were already bloodshot. He pressed the tip of the dagger against her chest like a wounded beast.
“Then why do you keep hurting me? Why do you use my love as a weapon against me?”
“Azhan, I’m sorry. I know I was wrong. I swear, I won’t hurt you again.”
Lu Nanzhan pushed harder. The blade seemed to pierce through her clothing and into her skin.
“Xianxian, how many times are you going to lie to me? You give me hope, then throw me into despair. Is that your idea of fun?”
Pain spread through her chest, but Song Qingxian felt her heart hurting even more, thousands of times worse, as though someone were ripping it out of her body alive.
Song Qingxian noticed that the number above his head was 90. Yet she could clearly feel that Lu Nanzhan truly intended to kill her.
The strength in Lu Nanzhan’s hand continued increasing as blood seeped from her chest. Driven by instinct to survive, Song Qingxian grabbed the dagger with both hands, her eyes filled with helplessness and heartache.
“Azhan, do you really want to kill me?”
She felt helpless toward her fate, yet at the same time, her heart ached for the Lu Nanzhan standing before her. If given the chance, she wanted to truly step into his world and understand what kind of suffering had turned him into this.
Lu Nanzhan’s dark eyes resembled a bottomless abyss, empty and lifeless. He stared heavily at Song Qingxian, the strength in his hand not lessening in the slightest.
Song Qingxian gripped the dagger tightly with both hands, trying to resist him, trying to pull him back to his senses. Blood continuously flowed through her fingers.
“Azhan, I want to become your light. Can I?”
There was no longer any ripple in Lu Nanzhan’s deadened eyes.
“Xianxian, I’ve given up. Someone like me belongs in filthy places where the sun never shines.”
“That’s not true, Azhan.” Song Qingxian shook her head desperately. “You’re a good person.”
“I’m a monster. You said that to me yourself. Have you forgotten, Xianxian?”
Song Qingxian held the dagger tightly as blood soaked the small patch of carpet beneath her feet. Yet the pain in her body was nowhere near the suffocating agony tearing through her heart.
She thought, perhaps I really have been tamed by Lu Nanzhan. Otherwise, why would I pity someone who keeps trying to kill me again and again?
“Azhan, do you really want to kill me…” Song Qingxian paused briefly. “And our child too?”
Lu Nanzhan lowered his head to look. He had completely lost control. His vision was filled with Xianxian’s blood as a voice suddenly echoed in his mind.
Do you really want to kill her? She is the only light left in your life.
Another voice fought back fiercely.
Kill her! She will never love you. She will only hurt you.
The two voices tore violently against each other until Lu Nanzhan’s mind finally collapsed. The towering structure in his head crumbled into ruins.
After a long while, Lu Nanzhan seemed to lose all strength. The dagger slipped from his hand, tumbling down the stairs. The sound of metal striking the steps echoed through the enormous space, suffocating and terrifying.
Song Qingxian suddenly wanted very badly to hug him.
She did not think he was a monster. He had to be sick, terribly sick, yet he still desperately tried to hold onto even the slightest bit of hope, only to be hurt mercilessly again and again.
The abyss of suffering was immeasurable, and Lu Nanzhan was likely trapped in a horrifying pain too terrible to bear looking at directly. But he should not be abandoned. Deep within his heart, he longed for salvation. He had tried to become better, tried to learn how to love, but he had already lost that ability.
Song Qingxian wrapped her arms around him. Yet this time, Lu Nanzhan did not hold her with ecstatic joy. Instead, he tried to push her away.
But Song Qingxian refused to let go. She held him even tighter and called his name.
“Azhan.”
Like a trapped beast, Lu Nanzhan struggled violently to break free. Song Qingxian lost her balance and tumbled straight down the stairs.
Her abdomen struck the dagger that had fallen moments earlier.
Song Qingxian lay on the floor in agony. Blood continuously poured from her hands, between her legs, and from her head. Her white dress was completely soaked red.
I’m going to die, she thought. Song Qingxian could clearly feel her life slipping away.
She looked toward Lu Nanzhan standing at the top of the stairs. He looked like a lifeless statue.
With great difficulty, she spoke.
“Azhan… I’m willing to love you.”
At last, a storm surged within Lu Nanzhan’s deathly silent eyes. His chaotic consciousness regained a trace of clarity.
He was hurting the person he loved most.
He rushed down the stairs and picked up the unconscious Song Qingxian. Tears fell onto her body as he cried out her name in agony.
“Xianxian! Xianxian!”
Unconscious, Song Qingxian did not know that the number above Lu Nanzhan’s head, the number foretelling death, was slowly rising:
97, 98, 99…