“I—I…”
Beads of sweat the size of soybeans kept rolling down his forehead as Zhao Yicheng spat out blood, his body trembling violently.
Broken, stuttering sounds spilled from his lips.
“S-s-sorry.”
“Sorry? And what use is sorry?”
Xu Yinsheng laughed out loud, as if she’d just heard the funniest joke in the world. Her laughter was so wild, tears began to flow.
With a sudden twist of her wrist, the sharp fruit knife plunged deeper, spraying blood and tearing flesh, the pain making Zhao Yicheng break out in cold sweat from head to toe.
“Does ‘sorry’ make up for the last two years? Does ‘sorry’ mean I’ll forgive you for what you did to me? Does ‘sorry’ mean I’ll forgive you, or fall in love with you?”
She spat out each word like a dagger stabbing straight into the man’s heart.
“Zhao Yicheng, I hate you to death!”
Bright red blood spread across his white shirt, making him look even more wretched and frail.
He wanted to speak, but his lips just opened and closed without a sound. Only those deep, dark eyes flashed with endless guilt and remorse.
Xu Yinsheng didn’t want to see that gaze. She turned away, deliberately avoiding it.
She knew exactly what she was doing now, and what she would do next.
Her mind was filled with memories of the humiliation and torment she suffered when he forced himself upon her.
In the end… it was just a human life.
She kept repeating to herself.
For the first time, Xu Yinsheng found herself thinking like a true troublemaking rich girl.
Just a human life, that’s all.
Heh…
Her family had money and connections, she could hire the best lawyers, the best defense—if she really got locked up, she could even apply for medical parole.
But just then, a hoarse, low voice sounded by her ear: “Xiao Yin… I’m sorry… Can you… give me a chance… to make it up to you? I really am sorry…”
His voice was so soft, as if just a faint breeze brushing past her ear, barely perceptible.
Yet she heard it clearly.
The corners of her mouth curled into an utterly mocking smile. “Heh…”
“You can’t give me that!” she cut him off, voice firm as steel.
“Xiao Yin….!”
Zhao Yicheng’s face was ashen, lips turned dark purple, looking just like a man on the brink of death.
Seeing him so weak, Xu Yinsheng actually felt a perverse pleasure welling up inside.
That’s right, just like this.
That’s right, just like this.
If he could play with her life as he pleased, why couldn’t she destroy him?!
She yanked out the fruit knife, letting blood gush forth. A few drops splattered onto her lips; the metallic taste filled her mouth, but instead of disgust, she felt an inexplicable rush.
“Zhao Yicheng.”
She planted her foot on his head, towering over him, her gaze icy cold. The mud quickly clung to the man, staining red with his blood.
“Do you know what I regret most in my life?”
Her eyes burned with furious fire: “What I regret most in my life is meeting you when I was five.”
“If I could do it all over again, I’d rather never have known you!!”
Her voice was chilling, as if it came from the very depths of hell. “Because scum like you was always destined to be my life’s Prophecy of Disaster!!”
Finishing her words, Xu Yinsheng delivered a fierce kick to Zhao Yicheng’s abdomen. Maybe it was the Black Path Girl persona granting her extra strength, or maybe it was pure rage, but that single kick sent the man flying four or five meters, rolling over the muddy ground again and again, blood pouring from his mouth with every turn.
Looking down coldly at the half-dead man sprawled in the mud, Xu Yinsheng curled her lips in a frosty smirk, then strode forward, grabbed Zhao Yicheng by the collar, and dragged him up to sit, glaring down at him without a shred of mercy in her eyes.
Slowly, she started dragging the man—now like a Death Dog—towards the desolate outskirts. The rain poured relentlessly, washing away the blood on the ground, along with the scent of blood in the air.
She didn’t know how long she walked. Suddenly, Xu Yinsheng paused, looking up at her surroundings. This was a true No Man’s Land. No, more precisely, except for the High-Speed Road three hundred meters to the left, there was nothing here but wild grass and dirt—no signs of life anywhere.
The rain kept coming down in sheets, drumming on the earth.
Xu Yinsheng glanced back.
She had to admit—Zhao Yicheng’s vitality was as tenacious as a cockroach. Even in this state, his chest was still faintly rising and falling; he still clung to a few breaths.
Xu Yinsheng let go.
Without support, Zhao Yicheng collapsed face-first into the mud with a dull thud. She bent down, propped him up to sit, then patted his back to help him catch his breath.
For once, Xu Yinsheng’s face showed a rare gentleness, but her words were frigid as ever:
“You think I’ll kill you? No, I won’t kill you. I’m afraid it would dirty my hands.”
“I’ll watch you die, watch the Vultures pick your corpse, watch the ants carry off your bones, watch you turn to ashes.”
Her dark, fathomless eyes seemed bottomless, filled with bloodlust and resentment. She looked like a demon intent on destroying everything before her. Her lips curved into a cruel, indifferent smile—like the bloom of a hellish flower.
“Should I say thank you?” Zhao Yicheng forced out the words.
He tried desperately to open his eyes, wanting to see Xu Yinsheng clearly, but blood loss and the pounding rain blurred his vision. His head grew heavier, his consciousness beginning to slip away.
“I know it’s too late to say anything now, but I still have to say it: I’m sorry, Xu Yinsheng. I’m sorry, Xiao Yin. cough cough I don’t hate you. Maybe… this is the ending I deserve.”
“The moment I took that step, maybe your fate and mine were already set in stone.”
With great effort, Zhao Yicheng lifted his hand, wanting to touch her face, but he couldn’t touch anything at all.
Xu Yinsheng was silent.
She quietly took a photo frame from her coat, tossed it down, pulled out a group photo, and looked at the two College Students in the picture, arms over each other’s shoulders, looking like inseparable friends. Tears kept streaming down her face, her lips moved, but in the end she said nothing.
She tore the photo in half—one half placed on Zhao Yicheng’s still-moving chest, the other tucked into her own pocket.
“If you can survive even this, as long as you never appear in my life again, everything between us will be wiped clean.”
With those words, she felt freed, turning away without a backward glance, clutching her half of the photo as she walked away.
The rain kept falling.
The scent of blood in the air faded, and the clouds slowly parted, like ink drops swirling through water. A few rays of sunlight filtered through the gaps.
Xu Yinsheng tilted her head back, breathing in deeply.
Ah, such free air.
Thinking of a life without Zhao Yicheng from now on, Xu Yinsheng’s lips curled into a faint smile.
“Future. Here I come.”