Chapter 49: This Is Your Fault
Nan Shaojie stared at Liang Xiaoluo's retreating back, his heart heavy with conflict. He wanted to call out to her, to stop her from leaving, but the weight of his indecision kept him silent.
"You disappoint me, Nan Shaojie," a cold voice interrupted his thoughts.
Nightwing stepped out of the shadows, his sudden presence startling Iceya, who had been quietly observing from a distance.
Nan Shaojie's expression darkened, and his clenched fists betrayed the fury he was trying to contain. He had been searching for Nightwing, only for the man to brazenly confront him.
Without a word, Nan Shaojie swung his fist, aiming straight for Nightwing's face. But the latter sidestepped the blow with ease, a smirk playing on his lips. "Attacking me won't fix anything, Shaojie."
"Why her?!" Nan Shaojie growled. Every detail he had uncovered in his investigation pointed to Nightwing orchestrating the chaos surrounding Liang Xiaoluo.
Nightwing's smile turned icy. "Why? Because her innocence destroyed what should never have been destroyed."
"What are you talking about?" Nan Shaojie demanded, his confusion mounting.
Nightwing leaned closer, his voice low and menacing. "If you can't protect the woman you love, then what's the point of your existence in this world?"
The cryptic statement left Nan Shaojie reeling. He glared at Nightwing, trying to decipher his intentions, but the man's expression remained inscrutable. For a brief moment, their gazes locked, and Nan Shaojie sensed a deep, burning hatred emanating from Nightwing—a hatred that seemed tied to Liang Xiaoluo.
"Protect her well," Nightwing said, his voice softer but no less chilling. "Because if you fail, there won't be a second chance."
And just like that, Nightwing disappeared into the shadows, leaving Nan Shaojie to grapple with his words.
"Master Shaojie!" Iceya approached, her face etched with concern. "Should I go after him?"
Nan Shaojie shook his head, his focus unbroken. "No. Instead, I want you to dig deeper into Nightwing's past. I need to know everything."
"Yes, sir," Iceya replied, her determination matching his.
Back at Liang Xiaoluo's home, she stumbled through the door, every step weighed down by exhaustion and despair.
"Xiaoluo, you're home late," Liang Hui greeted her, his worry evident.
Before Liang Xiaoluo could respond, Lin Meiling interjected with her usual saccharine tone. "Oh, let her be. She's young and in love. Spending extra time with Tianlin is normal, isn't it?"
Lin Meiling's calculated warmth turned to sly ambition as she added, "Our Xiaoluo has such great taste, finding a gem like Ye Tianlin. She should help her sister find someone equally amazing, don't you think?"
Her words grated on Liang Xiaoluo, but she held her tongue. She had no energy left to argue.
"Enough, I'm tired," Liang Xiaoluo muttered, retreating to her room.
Once inside her sanctuary, the weight of the evening overwhelmed her. Tears streamed down her face as she collapsed onto her bed, stifling her sobs with a pillow.
What am I supposed to do?
She thought of Nan Shaojie, of Ye Tianlin, and of her father—each representing an inescapable piece of her shattered reality. Her tears dried into determination as a wild idea took hold.
I have to run.
Grabbing a bag, she hastily packed her belongings, her resolve solidifying with each item she added. But as she stood there, bag in hand, her courage faltered.
Where would I go? He'll find me no matter where I run.
Defeated, she dropped the bag and sank to the floor, curling into herself. Her mind raced with fragmented thoughts until exhaustion claimed her.
She awoke to a voice calling her name.
"Xiaoluo, wake up. You'll catch a cold."
Her blurry vision cleared to reveal a tall, elegant woman kneeling before her. The woman's face stirred a strange familiarity within her.
"Who are you?" Xiaoluo asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The woman's gaze softened, though her eyes brimmed with sorrow. "You don't remember me?"
Xiaoluo's head throbbed painfully as she tried to place her. "No... I don't."
The woman reached out, brushing Xiaoluo's cheek tenderly. "Xiaoluo, I'm your sister."
The revelation struck Xiaoluo like a thunderbolt. Sister? The word felt foreign, distant, as though it belonged to another life. Yet as she stared into the woman's tear-filled eyes, a fragment of recognition sparked within her.
"Who... who are you?" she stammered, clutching her temples as if the pain could force an answer.
"Xiaoluo, don't you remember? It's me…" The woman's voice trembled. "Your sister."
The word hung in the air, echoing in Xiaoluo's mind. Somewhere, buried deep within the haze of her memory, the truth awaited—along with a storm she wasn't ready to face.