“Lihua, I know you want me dead, but you couldn’t bring yourself to kill me every time we met. If my death can make you feel better, then I’ll die.”
The man’s tone was resolute and devoid of any room for change, and the sound of it hurt Ling Lihua’s eardrums.
Shocked, she tried to withdraw her sword, but it was too late.
The sharp blade pierced Lu Hetian’s skin easily, and bright red blood gushed out.
However, he did not seem to feel any pain and, without hesitation, his hand pushed the blade into his flesh once more.
Ling Lihua’s pupils shrank, and she raised her palm abruptly and struck him on the chest.
“Enough. If you want to die, go and die somewhere else. Don’t dirty the ground here.”
Ling Lihua spat the words harshly, snatching the sword from him and throwing it onto the ground.
Lu Hetian was stunned. No matter how much his wound hurt, it could never match the agony in his heart.
This was how much Lihua loathed him.
However, he had brought it all upon himself.
He pursed his dry lips and, ignoring the blood flowing out from his neck, stared at her intensely. “Lihua, I know you hate me. Actually, I wished for death all those years without you by my side. Now that Weiwei’s married, I have nothing left to worry about. Why don’t you just grant me a quick death?” He leaned over, picked up the sword she had thrown on the ground, and stuffed it back in her hand. “Just give me one last blow. I hope that can appease you.”
Ling Lihua caught sight of his bleeding wound, and her chest tightened. Then she felt the sword being pressed into her hand. Her heart throbbed as she registered his words, and she flung the sword onto the ground once more, roaring in a rage, “Lu Hetian, cut it out with the ruse of self-injury. No matter how many times you die, I’ll never forgive you. Betrayal is betrayal, and you’ll never be cleansed of your impurities no matter what you do.
“When you married me back then, you should have known the kind of person I am. You knew that I could never tolerate anything that goes against my principles, but you still went and touched Zheng Yanran. When the two of you were fooling around behind my back, did you ever think about my feelings? You literally dug my heart out and stomped all over my dignity. Tell me, how can I forgive you? I’ll never forgive you, ever. Just looking at you makes me feel dirty. It makes me hate myself for being so blind and entrusting my entire life in the hands of a scumbag like you.”
Lu Hetian turned pale, his handsome face drained of color. The regret and pain in his heart threatened to drown him.
Ling Lihua’s every word pierced his heart, and although they did not draw blood, they stung him more painfully than a thousand arrows.
He wanted to explain, but the truth was clear as day, and there was nothing he could say to defend himself.
Even the sight of his deathly pale complexion could not relieve Ling Lihua of her hatred, but she refused to spare him another glance. “Get out. I won’t take your life for Weiwei and Chen’s sake, but don’t ever let me see you again. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee what I’ll do next time.”
Lu Hetian’s body trembled a little. Looking at the woman who had already turned her back on him, he felt pain eating away at his heart and bones.
He loved her before, and he still loved her now. No matter how much she resented him, his love for her would only increase and not the opposite.
On top of that, the fact that she had come back to life and appeared before him again sparked a glimmer of hope in his gloomy and withered heart.
No matter what, he refused to let her go again.
Seeing his defeated expression, Ling Lihua felt somewhat suffocated and suddenly blurted, “Actually, it’s not completely impossible for me to renounce my hatred for you.”
Lu Hetian’s eyes lit up, and he stepped forward excitedly. “Tell me. I promise I’ll do anything, no matter what you say.”