098 He Was in Pain Too

“Why did you use my mother to force me? Now I’m back, and you got your way.”

The shrill cry cut through the air and stabbed straight into Duan Nanyu’s ears. It struck his chest like a blow, splitting it open, and the pain spread through every part of his body in an instant.

He had never meant to use her mother to threaten her, never intended to force her into anything.

He had thought she had chosen to come back on her own. He had been so thrilled that he wanted to gather her into his arms at once and tell her that he had missed her.

But in the end, it was all only his wishful thinking. She had not returned of her own free will. She had been compelled. And yet, so what? She was back, at his side.

She still belonged to him.

Looking at Yun Xueyan standing before him and deliberately keeping her distance, Duan Nanyu’s eyes were swiftly filled with a coldness as biting as ice.

But he forced it down just as quickly. He could not hurt her any further. Even if, in her eyes, he had used her mother as leverage, he had nothing to say in his defense. He could only let himself remain so pitiful.

Even an explanation seemed feeble and useless.

“Come here,” he said in a lowered voice, afraid that if he went to her, she would flee.

“Unless you leave, I will not go in!” Yun Xueyan’s voice was cold. She knew she was provoking him, but he had already driven her to death once. What else did she have to fear?

Fate had been cruel to her again and again, and she had always believed that if she endured in silence, the storm would eventually pass. But reality had erased all such hopes, and she had received not the slightest pity.

“Duan Nanyu, leave this place now!” Yun Xueyan pointed toward the door, her tone merciless.

Not stabbing him to death on the spot was already the greatest mercy she could show him. She would never forget the wounds he had inflicted upon her, the agony worse than death. He would never understand that pain!

But she had carved it into her very bones.

Seeing the pain and hatred in her eyes, Duan Nanyu knew she still had not forgiven him. Did she hate him that much?

His hands clenched into fists. He strode toward Yun Xueyan and, ignoring her struggle, pulled her into his arms. Her resistance tore at the wound on his body.

“Yan’er...” His voice trembled and broke. “I truly want to be good to you. I don’t want to lose you.”

That was already the limit of what he could say. So many words were bitter in his throat and would not come out. He had never been good at expressing himself.

He even cast aside the honorific, speaking to her with “I” instead.

He wanted to draw himself a little closer to her. The distance between them was only growing wider...

“Let go of me, Duan Nanyu. Let go!” Yun Xueyan’s voice sharpened as she shouted at him. “Holding me like this makes me feel as though I’m being held by a demon.”

“No—you're even more terrifying than a demon!”

She struggled with all her might, but her strength was far too small.

Her face flushed red with fury. Opening her mouth, she bit down on Duan Nanyu’s shoulder, her whole body trembling uncontrollably. She pressed harder and harder until the taste of blood filled her mouth, yet still she did not let go.

Duan Nanyu did not dodge. He let her vent her hatred.

His body shook more and more violently, and tears blurred her vision. At last, powerless, she loosened her bite, though the arms around her did not relax in the slightest. Her body went limp, and she lifted her face to the sky.

The heavens were blank, untouched by even the slightest stain, and yet she was in so much pain. So much hatred.

A bitter, piercing cry tore across the sky: “Duan Nanyu, why won’t you let me go? I hate you! You made my life worse than death, and now you want to drag me back into the abyss again!”

Looking at the scar on Yun Xueyan’s face, Duan Nanyu’s heart twisted with a stabbing ache. He had wanted to treat her well, but every time, all he brought her was hurt.

He lifted Yun Xueyan into his arms and carried her back into the house. Not daring to linger a second longer, he turned and left.

He was hurting too. Did she think he had not suffered when the child was lost? It had been his own hand that wrought this mistake. Besides pain, there was only remorse. He had hurt her, killed their child, and wounded himself as well.

At times, he even felt wretched beyond measure.