111 Who can give the answer?

The Dowry Ugly Consort

The man on the bed had his brows drawn tightly together, his face twitching as though he were enduring unbearable agony. Cold sweat broke out and trickled down his forehead.

The smell of blood rushed into her nostrils. Yun Xueyan still could not help turning her head away as she wiped the sweat from Duan Nanyu’s forehead with the edge of her sleeve. “Young Master Xiao, please be gentler.”

“Feeling sorry for him?” Xiao Siyi asked with a teasing smile, casting a sidelong glance at her.

“No.” Without the slightest hesitation, Yun Xueyan fixed her eyes on the man lying on the bed. His entire face had contorted from the pain. Then a low growl escaped him, and his hand suddenly clamped around her wrist.

Duan Nanyu abruptly opened his eyes and breathed in great, ragged gulps. The pain in his chest left him dazed for a moment, yet the hand gripping Yun Xueyan’s wrist did not loosen.

He lifted his eyes. Within those deep, ink-dark pupils, his gaze had contracted to a single bright point filled with fear, pain, and joy.

“Yan’er… forgive me.”

He had forgotten the agony of his wound tearing open. He allowed the blood to flow without end, doing nothing but staring at the woman before him and pleading.

He had already made the greatest confession he could. He no longer knew what else he could do to make her stop hating him.

At the moment he closed his eyes and sank into darkness, fear had seized him. He was afraid that even if he died, she would never forgive him. He did not fear death. He feared only that she would not forgive him. If that happened, what was he supposed to do?

“Shut up. Agitating yourself like this will only make the bleeding worse. If you want to die, say so. Don’t waste my time. You woke from the pain and still refuse to behave. Is lying there really so comfortable that you don’t want to wake up?”

Xiao Siyi’s tone was utterly merciless, but the pressure of his hand increased as he pressed down on the wound.

Duan Nanyu’s grip on Yun Xueyan’s wrist tightened abruptly. He sucked in a sharp breath, refusing to let a cry escape.

“Young Master Xiao!” Yun Xueyan cried out in alarm. She knew perfectly well that Xiao Siyi was doing it on purpose.

“Yan’er, are you worried about me?” Duan Nanyu asked joyfully. His delight was plain upon his face. If this could make Yun Xueyan care about him, he would gladly let Xiao Siyi press down on the wound several more times.

“Worried about you?” Yun Xueyan stared at the blood slowly seeping out. She stood dazed for a moment before her voice turned flat. “I merely took pity on you. I cannot bear to watch such a bloody scene. Stop indulging in wishful thinking. I…”

She could not finish.

The light in Duan Nanyu’s eyes dimmed, sinking into lifeless despair.

A bitter smile touched her lips. What had she just said?

The pain in his chest, mingled with the anguish in his heart, swept over Duan Nanyu completely. She… did not even care about his pleas.

He could only lick the wound in his heart in despair. His mistakes could never be made right—not unless he could turn back time, not unless… he could bring their child back.

Otherwise, no matter how much he despised himself or how deeply he grieved, even if his suffering had finally brought him complete understanding, it would all be meaningless.

He had given himself the hope of one last struggle before death, yet in the end, he still had nothing…

Daring no longer to look at Duan Nanyu’s expression, Yun Xueyan turned away. Tears slowly streamed down her face. She despised her own weakness. She had… lost everything.

The moment he had used her hand to drive the dagger into his chest, the moment she had nearly gone mad with fear that he would die, she had already lost.

Keeping her steps even, she slowly walked outside. She was afraid that if she stayed another moment, she would collapse.

Her pain was almost enough to drown her. She had hated, she had loved, and in the end, no matter how desperately she tried to let go, she still cared.

Clutching her chest, she walked out of the room, but she could no longer remain standing. She seized one of the corridor pillars and slid to the ground, burying her face between her knees as she sobbed in desperate anguish.

Who could tell her what she was supposed to do? Who could tell her whether her heart held more hatred or more love?

She was utterly confused. She could not even give herself an answer.

The pain made it difficult to breathe. She gasped for air, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

Who could give her an answer?