Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Was That him?

Translator: DWM

Edited by Lord Immortal

Finally, I succumbed to my emotions, bowed my head humbly, and apologized hoarsely, “Mo Yulin, that was my fault; please forgive me.”

At that moment I didn’t know how sad and awkward I felt. All this was thanks to the man I loved the most and the woman I hated the most.

Tears filled my eyes as I tried hard to hide my pain and keep all the grievances buried in my heart. I didn’t want to show any weakness in front of my enemies, although the agony and the torment of love and hate had already become almost unbearable.

Qin Mochen threw away the photo and the fragments fell on my injured hands. My heart cried in grief when I looked at the mutilated faces in the photo.

I looked up and stared at them with hatred, and said in a more determined tone than I had ever been, “Qin Mochen, I hate you; I hate you so much. If I had known that falling in love with you would cost me so dearly, I wouldn’t have saved you.”

Hearing this, I saw he had a quiver and his expression changed slightly.

He said coolly, “What did you say?”

This time, there was a hint of hesitation in his voice.

Mo Yulin looked at me in a panic. Suddenly she pretended to be weak and fell to the ground.

Qin Mochen subconsciously hugged her. His brow furrowed as he saw her pale face. He asked with care, “Yulin, what’s wrong with you?”

“Chen, I have a terrible headache.” Mo Yulin choked with pain. Her face was so pale that she seemed to faint at any moment.

“Ling, go and call a doctor!” With that he picked up Mo Yulin and was ready to leave. Before he left, he turned his head and glanced at me in disgust. He warned me, “If something like this happens again, I would never spare you so easily!”

With that he strode away. Dead silence reigned the house once again.

I picked up the pieces of the photo. The red blood on my palm stained my father’s familiar face. It made me break down in tears, and I couldn’t stop the raging emotions in my heart from bursting out.

Why did all the tragedies happen to me? Why should I suffer all the pain?

I stood up trembling and staggered downstairs. Several times, I almost fell down the stairs.

The day was so long that it seemed like a century had passed. At night, I sat on my bed and looked at my palm. It was red and swollen; some of the broken glass was embedded in the flesh, and it had begun discharging pus.

I looked at the cut impassively as if the one injured was not me.

I didn’t know how long this life will last. It was more painful for me to stay here than stay in hell.

I dozed off in despair and hate and didn’t sleep well all night. I heard someone open the door and come in. He raised my hand and gently helped me remove the broken glass from my wound.

I could feel the cool potion slowly daubed on my palm even in my dream. There also seemed to be a sigh near my ear. This familiar voice was fuzzy and I couldn’t recognize it. Who had saved me?

I wanted to open my eyes, but my whole body was tired and the colic of the lower abdomen led me into a coma. Before I lost consciousness, however, I actually heard Qin Mochen’s urgent voice, “Damn, you’ve got a fever.”

How could it be him?

He hurt me so much and hated me so much. Why did he still come to see me?

I felt so pained. It felt as agonizing as being crushed.

When I woke up, I smelled a strong odor of disinfectant. I opened my eyes and looked around. I was in the ward again.

I didn’t know if I would die in the hospital one day.

“Miss Mo, are you awake?” It was Ling’s voice. I wearily looked at her and tried to open my mouth but found my throat too dry to speak.

Ling quickly poured a glass of water for me. Worried, she asked, “How do you feel? I will call the doctor. You’ve been in a coma for three days. I was so scared that you won’t wake up.”

I hesitated when Ling handed me the water. And then the hot water splashed on the back of my hands; it was painful.

Looking at my bandaged hands, I remembered that night, the familiar voice, the strange tone. Could it be him?