Rong Lan froze, seemingly unable to process what was happening.
"Little sixth, stop the car!"
Little sixth hurriedly stopped the car. Rong Lan was forcibly pushed out, and Little seventh followed him out. With a cold expression, Little seventh said to Rong Lan:
"The Young Madam isn’t feeling well. From now on, please try not to appear in front of her."
Rong Lan stood there pale-faced, watching the car drive away. His hand clutched his chest, his lips tinged with a purplish hue, murmuring her name softly:
"Miao Miao, Miao Miao..."
Why does the heart hurt so much?
Clutching his chest, he slowly crouched down to the ground. The sky began to drizzle. He resembled a homeless man squatting there, lost in thought. He had lived for twenty-seven years, indulging in worldly pleasures, surrounded by debauchery, with beautiful women within reach, fulfilling his every desire.
He didn’t have many days left. What he wanted now was so little—just a bit of warmth.
That warmth, however, had been lost by him five years ago. For more chapters visit novel-fire.net
He remembered the day he left for abroad. Qin Miaomiao had hurried to see him off and searched for him endlessly amidst the crowd. He stayed hidden in the shadows, watching her cry like a child.
Back then, Qin Miaomiao was just a child, yet she had endured everything about him.
To love someone, one could humble themselves to the dust. At that moment, he finally understood the meaning of heartache.
Five years later, he wanted to make amends, but it seemed it was already too late. She didn’t even want to call him "Brother Lan" anymore.
The rain soaked him entirely. Clutching his agonizing chest, he gradually collapsed onto the ground. In the blur of his vision, he seemed to see the Qin Miaomiao from five years ago, smiling at him.
She said, "Brother Lan."
Is this death? Is that why he’s hallucinating?
Miao Miao, I’m sorry. I woke up too late.
I’m sorry. I love you.
Qin Miaomiao sat in the car, her headache so severe she was close to passing out. Suddenly, her chest felt uneasy. As the rain poured down, she stared at the gloomy sky and suddenly spoke:
"What?" Little sixth was somewhat taken aback. Hadn’t the Young Madam already fallen out with Rong Lan earlier?
"Quick, turn around!"
She remembered that Rong Lan was sick and couldn’t leave him there.
The car drove back, and she saw Rong Lan collapsed on the ground, startling her. She quickly shouted:
"Little sixth and Little seventh, hurry and save him!"
Fortunately, she came back; otherwise, who knows what would have happened!
He was helped into the car. Qin Miaomiao looked at his pale face, and, for some reason, her eyes slowly turned red.
She grabbed his collar, lowered her voice, and angrily shouted into his ear:
"Rong Lan, if you’re doing this to make me feel guilty for your death, I will never forgive you in this lifetime—never!"
So don’t use death to punish others. Don’t force her to live the rest of her life with guilt.
When Rong Lan woke up, he saw someone leaning on the bedside. The side profile resembled the girl he had long held dear. He reached out, wanting to caress her face, but she suddenly opened her eyes.
Her gaze was complicated. She wasn’t Miao Miao. She wasn’t the Qin Miaomiao who had searched the entire airport for him five years ago and cried like a child.
"Rong Lan, I’m not Qin Miaomiao. I am Su Jin."
She suddenly said this, and Rong Lan looked at her blankly, seemingly unable to understand what she meant.
"A few months ago, Qin Miaomiao committed suicide and ended everything. Since then, I’ve become her. I am Su Jin—a member of the Su Family."
Rong Lan forced a weak smile and said hoarsely, "Miao Miao, this joke isn’t funny. You can’t make up lies just to get away from me."
Qin Miaomiao leaned closer, staring into his face, and said word by word:
"You know better than anyone else—I am not her. The one who loved you is already dead. I’m sorry."