Chapter Ninety-Six: I Hate Him

And my family—how could I be so selfish, causing so many deaths just because of myself? As long as I live, I will be under Luo Ange’s control; even my family and friends will be manipulated by him. I don’t want that. I can’t bear it. I dare not accept it.

If only I were dead, no one could threaten them anymore, and I could finally find peace.

But I cannot bring myself to tell Shu Congxuan directly—that he fought desperately for me, and I would be willing to do the same for him. I cannot tell Xia Qi or Li Wanqiu face to face that becoming sisters with them has been the happiest thing in my life. I cannot tell Grandpa that I will never again drink the Butterfly Love wine he brewed.

Yet, thankfully, when I hit the pillar, the pain on my forehead grew sharper, somehow easing the torment in my heart. As I collapsed, a triumphant smile spread across my lips.

Luo Ange, don’t even think you can control me. Don’t even think it.

In the haze, someone held me and ran; raindrops fell on my face. It turns out when Heaven weeps, the rain is warm—just like my tears.

I was so exhausted. Truly, I was too tired to live in this world, too weary to want anything but to die.

If there is a next life, Luo Ange, let’s not meet. Let’s not know each other. Please, don’t be so merciless.

When I was little, for two years I was often sick and plagued by nightmares. I asked Grandpa if there was a way to never dream again.

He said, “Fool, if you never dream, then aren’t you dead?”

So it’s true—dead people do not dream.

The one holding me vanished, everything disappeared, and I closed my eyes deeply.

I felt myself gently floating up. They say that before death, people see strange things. I saw my soul leave my body and drift slowly into the sky. Then my flesh suddenly turned into foam and dissolved into the air.

I had never done anything wicked in my life; surely, I could ascend to heaven.

A familiar scent surrounded me. I stirred, trying to open my eyes, but my eyelids seemed sewn shut—I could neither open nor see.

Groggy, I sat up, a splitting headache overwhelming me. When I touched the thick gauze on my forehead, I cursed inwardly—I hadn’t died after all.

Who the hell saved me? I would hunt them down.

I fought to open my eyes and, through the blur, saw two figures standing by the window. Against the light, I couldn’t make out their faces; they seemed both strange and familiar.

I reached out, dry and parched, wanting water. One person came over to help me sit up, while the other poured me a glass.

Drowsiness was overwhelming. I collapsed again, closed my eyes without resistance. Since even death had become a luxury, there was no point in thinking further.

Tears slid down, dripping into my ears. It was as if a deadly sound was drowning me, or some beast with a gaping maw ready to devour me.

Something furry scratched me awake. Opening my eyes, it was pitch dark. Nearby on the sofa, tiny sparks flickered.

Startled, I recalled the scene at the hospital and tumbled off the bed in fright.

Someone switched on a light, bathing the room in a dim yellow glow. I saw the source of the sparks.

Luo Ange had thrown a cigarette butt and was now approaching, helping me up. Affectionately, he pressed his forehead against mine—not with his hand but with his own brow.

Then he spoke to me, but I couldn’t hear. I was so frightened I tried to break free, retreating to a corner and wrapping myself like a cocoon in a blanket.

Ah Jiu leapt onto the bed, tearing and biting at me. I dared not hold it. It rubbed its face against mine, slobbering all over. When I ignored it, it sulked into Luo Ange’s arms.

He set the dog down, and soon a man entered, picking Ah Jiu up.

I recognized the man—last time, the young master of the conglomerate. He wanted to say something when he saw I was awake, but Luo Ange glared at him. The man rolled his eyes and left with the dog.

Luo Ange climbed onto the bed and reached for my blanket. Terrified, I fought back with fists and kicks, suddenly slapping him across the face.

He didn’t know I had secretly grabbed a glass in my hand. When half his body pressed me down and crushed the glass, I pushed him away with all my strength, threw back the blanket, and showed him the shards pressed against my carotid artery.

He gasped heavily, no longer daring to come closer, even raising his hands in surrender, urgently whispering something.

I still felt it wasn’t enough—I wished I could kill him then and there, wished we could die together.

I felt heartbroken that I hadn’t died, because that meant that cruel bastard could still threaten me and those I care about.

That meant my world would be filled again with disgusting people and events.

I shifted my body closer to him. He understood and got off the bed, standing twenty centimeters away.

He kept speaking, but I couldn’t hear and didn’t want to think about what he said. All I wanted was to leave him.

He read my lips and silently mouthed: impossible.

I suddenly recalled how, when I was well, I loved to pretend to be profound, always reading a complete collection of Lu Xun’s works. One scene stuck with me: Lu Xun said, “When I opened history to look, there were no dates—every crooked page was inscribed with the words ‘benevolence, righteousness, morality.’ I couldn’t sleep, so I examined it carefully all night, and only through the cracks between the words did I see what it really said: ‘cannibalism.’”

I clearly remember reading this in the 1992 edition published by the People’s Publishing House, volume one, page twelve.

Before, I didn’t understand why he read all night; wouldn’t a magnifying glass do? Surely it would take less than three seconds to see clearly. But now, looking at Luo Ange, I suddenly understood.

I feel he is a chapter in history—timeless, crooked pages filled with the word “pervert.” I couldn’t sleep either; after months of looking, I read through the cracks that every page said two words: “cannibalism.”

Being controlled by someone is a terrible feeling. Since you think you can consume me, then we might as well go down together.

Anyway, I don’t mind being the dead fish.

I tried to make my movements elegant and swift as I lunged at Luo Ange. I thought, with his skills, it would be easy for him to dodge me.

But he stood perfectly still. The shards in my hand plunged deep into his chest, and he smiled at me.

His white shirt quickly turned crimson. I didn’t know how hard I was pressing. I didn’t have time to think—I just took two steps back and ran.

At the door, the young master of the conglomerate and another man strolled by, laughing. When they saw me, they realized something and rushed over.

I dashed past them and ran downstairs, colliding with someone—Zhu Bang.

He steadied me and spoke, but I trembled and shoved him away, running outside.

The courtyard was vast, and I ran toward the gate, too afraid to look back, running wildly.

Before I could reach the gate, many men in black swarmed from all directions and seized me.

I screamed, struggling fiercely, but they restrained me.

The two men and Zhu Bang came forward, all wearing anxious expressions. One had blood stains on his hands and shirt.

The young master raised his hand to slap me, but the man beside him pulled him back, shaking his head.

He was furious, rubbing his forehead, exhaling sharply—I thought he looked like a little dragon person, a tiny horned dragon.

The little dragon person gave me a cold glance and walked away.

Fear overwhelmed me, and I began to cry. This place was too vast, like a prison. Would I never escape in this lifetime?

Zhu Bang said something to the man who stayed behind. The man waved his hand, and the black-clad men loosened their grip.

They must have been trained; they didn’t hurt me as they held me.

I shrank back, hugging myself, trembling with fear.

The man waved again, and the men scattered, vanishing without a trace like Japanese ninjas.

The two men spoke quietly, glancing at me from time to time. I told myself to stay calm, not to act impulsively, and that I would find a way out.

But my mind no longer controlled my hands. I tore at the gauze on my head, repeatedly banged my head against the floor, slapped my own face, pulled at my hair, and gouged at my eyes.

Zhu Bang held me down, and the other man grasped my chin—probably afraid I would bite my tongue to die.

But I truly lost control, biting at him, though missing, and kicking Zhu Bang.

My head felt like it was exploding. I was like I had been injected with a stimulant, struggling against the two of them.

Fighting against fate, unyielding.

Luo Ange stumbled out, clutching his chest. Behind him followed the young master.

He walked over shakily, blood dripping from between his fingers onto the floor.

Sweat drenched his forehead as he reached me and spoke softly. Zhu Bang and the others reluctantly released me.

Actually, when I saw Luo Ange, I stopped struggling. His face was terrifyingly pale, as if coated with thick lime.

There were tears in his eyes. I saw clearly what he said: “I’m sorry.”

I despised those three words. Luo Ange, I say sorry too—but will you spare me and Shu Congxuan?

I never knew the meaning of utter despair until that moment, when I truly felt my heart die.

With that feeling, I instantly became a living corpse. Even when Luo Ange fainted before me, I felt no sorrow.

Days passed. I was imprisoned in a room, unable to go anywhere because four burly men guarded the door.

Whenever I tried to open it, they stood like an iron wall blocking me.

Gradually, I realized this was not Kang City. Kang City did not have vast stretches of phoenix flowers ablaze like fire, nor the faintly blue, distant sky.

Every day, a doctor came to check on me and administer injections. After each meal, servants watched me swallow various colored pills.

I was forbidden from making calls, watching TV, or going online. I couldn’t learn about Shu Congxuan’s situation. The room had only some outdated magazines. I couldn’t even see Ah Jiu, let alone anyone else.

Probably fearing I would try to kill myself again, they confiscated all knives and glassware. The servants cut fruit for me and brought it in.

When I was hospitalized, Shu Congxuan had done the same for me. Back then, I thought it was so sweet to be cared for.

But now, with Luo Ange doing this, I felt nothing.

No, not nothing—I hated him.