"Are you afraid..." A smile of faint mockery touched the corner of his lips, dripping with crimson. He slowly turned, his shadow cast faintly upon the ground in the autumn sunlight, flickering in and out of view amidst the shifting patterns of light and leaves. "I... will never bless you..." The car stopped abruptly.

Someone yanked her out of the vehicle. She stumbled, her wrist throbbing with sharp pain. She was surrounded by blindingly white walls and the pungent smell of disinfectant. In the dense white fog before her eyes, she couldn't make out where she was, but nausea churned so violently that she felt only vomiting out her very organs might bring relief!

"He committed suicide..." "...Are you satisfied?... He actually killed himself for you... used a razor blade to sever his artery..."

A sudden, horrified cry escaped her. She trembled violently, then stood frozen, like a small, dying animal, breathing in sharp gasps, seemingly deaf to whatever was being shouted nearby. She struggled to remain upright. Someone was pulling her, but terror suddenly engulfed her completely. Within the wildly spinning white mist, she refused to take another step forward! Not until someone roughly shoved her through a door! The room was like a snow cavern. The walls were stark white. Only the ventilator and the monotonous beep... beep... of the machinery broke the silence.

"Just yesterday... at the very moment you were getting married... he took his own life... losing so, so much blood... the bathroom floor was stained crimson..."

"Senior Xia Mo..." Someone softly called her name. In the chaotic white fog, a deafening roar still sounded in her ears, as if she were being moved by an external force. She walked forward stiffly, then stopped. In the frenzy of dizziness, the world went dark and silent. Gradually, slowly, the heavy white mist began to tear apart and dissipate, and the figure, pale as if already dead, slowly materialized before her eyes. The snow-white hospital bed. Her wrist lay weakly draped over the side. Snow-white gauze tightly wrapped the wound on her wrist, layer upon thick layer. She couldn't gauge how deep the cut was to require so much dressing. A pale face. Closed eyes. Dark eyelashes. Cracked lips devoid of any trace of color. He lay motionless, an oxygen mask covering his face, an IV tube inserted into his wrist, the fluid dripping slowly, drop by drop, into his body. His chest seemed utterly still, only the faint curve on the adjacent heart monitor proved he was still alive. Lying quietly in the bed. He was as still as a newborn infant, quiet as if he knew nothing anymore—didn't know she had arrived, didn't know she stood right beside him, didn't know her trembling and fear, didn't know he had driven her to the very edge of the precipice... "You..." After a long, long silence, Yin Xia Mo stared blankly at the figure on the bed, so pale it seemed it might dissolve into the air at any second. Her voice was dull and hoarse, as if drifting from a faraway place, not originating from within her own body. "...You actually dared to do this..." Summer of Foam III

For more novels, visit storyread.net.