Chapter 146: Two Men's Tacit Understanding
"Ruoxi, you've truly disappointed me." Ye Tianqing's voice carried no trace of the strength he once had. With those words, he turned and walked away.
As his figure disappeared into the distance, Yan Ruoxi finally lifted her head. Watching his retreating back, it felt as though all the strength had been drained from her body. She collapsed to the ground, her weak breaths barely audible.
"Tianqing, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry…" Yan Ruoxi whispered repeatedly.
She knew she had done wrong, yet, given the chance to choose again, she would make the same choice.
Her love for Ye Tianqing had long since consumed her entire being.
As long as Ye Tianqing could be happy, she would never regret her actions.
"What a foolishly devoted woman," a mocking voice suddenly interrupted. Nightwing appeared, his cold gaze looking down at Yan Ruoxi with a sardonic smile.
Yan Ruoxi turned her head slightly and recognized him—the man from that night.
"You! Why are you here?" she shouted.
Nightwing replied coolly, "I'm here to take you to the hospital, of course. I can't just stand by and watch you die, can I?"
"I don't need your help! I'd rather die than have anything more to do with you!" Yan Ruoxi screamed with all her remaining strength.
Though she didn't regret what she had done, she refused to walk that dark path again.
After all, this man was dangerous. He hadn't helped her—he had used her.
Nightwing knelt slightly and raised her chin with a finger, smirking. "Die? How could you die? You need to stay alive, Yan Ruoxi."
Yan Ruoxi gritted her teeth, her fists clenched tightly.
"Don't look at me like that. I'm not the villain responsible for your predicament," Nightwing said with a detached tone, as though he had nothing to do with it.
Yan Ruoxi's hostility faded, replaced by confusion. "What do you mean? What are you hiding? Tell me!"
She had been blinded by love and turned into someone else's pawn without realizing it.
"If you want the answers, you'll have to stay alive to find them. If you die now, who knows what changes will happen in the Ye family? And that ambitious woman—her rise will have your fingerprints all over it," Nightwing said. His low, chilling voice carried a trace of lazy indifference, filling the quiet corner with a sinister undertone.
He would rather see the Ye family become a global laughingstock. After all, the man Liang Xiaoluo loved was a Ye, and his suffering would undoubtedly crush her.
Before Yan Ruoxi could respond, Nightwing was gone.
His parting words lingered in her mind, stirring unease. Who was this ambitious woman he mentioned? What did he mean by changes in the Ye family?
A sudden, ominous feeling took hold of her. She feared that Ye Tianqing might soon face a grave crisis.
Clenching her phone, Yan Ruoxi called her doctor—the one managing her condition. No matter what, she couldn't collapse now. She had to hold on, at least for the next three months.
Meanwhile, Liang Xiaoluo had fled from the restaurant, running aimlessly.
This was the second devastating blow she had endured that day.
Tears dried on her face as the wind chilled her skin, each step forward as painful as the last.
Hilo followed her, his chiseled features clouded by a somber expression. He was as shocked by Yan Ruoxi's revelation as Liang Xiaoluo had been.
But something still didn't sit right with him.
When Liang Xiaoluo ran recklessly into the street, narrowly missing an oncoming car, Hilo darted forward and pulled her back just in time.
His jet-black eyes, cold and deep like obsidian, silently observed her frantic behavior. His lips tightened into a thin line as he held her arm firmly, preventing her escape.
Passersby stopped in their tracks, watching the scene unfold. Some pointed and whispered, while others spun their own imagined versions of the story.
"Let me go! Let me go!" Liang Xiaoluo's voice was hoarse, teetering on the edge of despair.
"Liang Xiaoluo, calm down!" Hilo's words came through gritted teeth. He understood the turmoil she was facing.
But seeing her like this—broken, frenzied—it tore at his heart. He hated the feeling. He hated that he could do nothing but hold her while she lashed out, his own pain twisting and knotting with hers.
"Let me go!" she shouted, gasping for breath. Her tear-filled eyes were bloodshot, and she glared at him with a mix of anger and anguish. When she realized he wouldn't release her, she bent her head and bit his wrist.
A sharp, stinging pain shot through Hilo. He furrowed his brows but didn't flinch. He looked down at her biting him as hard as she could, teeth sinking into his skin. Strangely, the physical pain seemed to dull the ache in his heart.
Liang Xiaoluo bit down harder, drawing blood. She showed no sign of stopping.
Hilo remained still, his expression calm and composed. But deep in his eyes, a trace of pity flickered—a tenderness he couldn't suppress.
"Forget what I said to Ruoxi," he said softly, his voice low and steady, reaching her ears despite the noisy street.
Liang Xiaoluo froze. The metallic taste of blood snapped her back to reality. Disgusted by herself, she released his wrist and staggered back, wiping her lips with a trembling hand. Her bloodshot eyes glared at Hilo as she spat, "Let me go!"
She could no longer distinguish friend from foe. Everyone seemed like an enemy.
Hilo hesitated, then loosened his grip and let her go.
Liang Xiaoluo cast him one last scornful look before turning and walking away. Straightening her back, she pushed forward, her clenched fists trembling. The crowd parted to let her pass, whispering among themselves.
"Liang Xiaoluo!" Hilo called after her. "Forget about it all. If you let it go, you won't hurt anymore. You can go back to how things were."
Liang Xiaoluo stopped and slowly turned around, her tear-filled eyes filled with bitterness. Her voice trembled as she said, "I know the truth now. How could I forget? Why… why did you make me face this truth? Why?"
Her voice rose to a shout, raw with emotion. She looked at Hilo like a wounded animal, full of rage and sorrow, before turning to walk away again.
Hilo followed quietly, his heart heavy with sadness. Watching her retreating figure filled him with indescribable anguish. Just the sight of her back felt like a wound.
If this was what it felt like to watch her leave, what would it be like if he lost her completely?
Half a month later.
The city of Mengchuan was bathed in rare winter sunshine. The morning light pierced through the clouds, casting a warm glow over the streets.
Liang Xiaoluo had woken up early. In the kitchen, she moved about like a graceful butterfly, her apron fluttering as she prepared breakfast.
Hilo stood at the top of the staircase, watching her. His dark eyes followed her every movement, his gaze growing more intense.
Her transformation was puzzling. It could be a sign of healing—or the calm before a storm.
Sensing his stare, Liang Xiaoluo turned and looked up, meeting his eyes. She smiled. "Morning, Luo!"
Her tone was warm and casual, as if they had always been this close.