Mu Xinrong knelt on the cold, hard floor, pressing his forehead against the heavy door. His knuckles were pale from digging into the ground so hard his nails were nearly broken.
The surging tears were like an uncontrollable torrent, washing over the cheeks and falling on the cold floor tiles, leaving dark, desperate traces.
Suppressed, broken whimpers squeezed out from between clenched teeth, like a wounded and dying cub, echoing desperately in the empty and silent corridor.
"I'm sorry... I'm sorry... Chao Youye... I'm sorry..."
The hoarse and broken voice was filled with overwhelming heartache and belated regret that went deep into the bone marrow.
So that’s how it is!
That photo! His father's threats! The cold study! The question "Explain?"! And Chao Youye's instantly pale face and shaky composure!
It's not that he doesn't love me anymore! It's not that he's tired of me!
He was trying to protect him! To protect Mu Xinrong, who loved him like a fool! That's why he had to push him away with his own hands! In the coldest, most hurtful way! He had to endure his heartbreaking pleas and hatred!
And what about yourself?
Carrying the resentment of being betrayed in reincarnation, carrying the pain and confusion of being broken up in this world line, like a blind person, looking at him with eyes of pain and resistance.
Even just now, his proximity had once again triggered his near-death collapse. That hoarse, "Don't touch me," wasn't disgust, but deep-seated fear. It was the fear of getting him into trouble again! It was the fear of his father's methods.
He wished time could go back! He wanted to rush in and hug the broken boy who had endured so much! Tell him he knew!
He knew everything! He would never misunderstand him again! He would never hate him again! He would never leave him alone again!
However, the heavy door was like an icy barrier, isolating him from the outside. Inside, there was a deathly silence.
Only the faint but regular beeping of the monitor, like a death knell, struck his shaky nerves again and again.
What was Qingliu doing in there? How was Chao Youye? Was that horrific collapse...over?
A huge fear and helplessness gripped him again. Like a child abandoned in a snowstorm, he could do nothing but kneel outside the door and confess in despair.
Inside the heavy door.
The dead air seemed to have solidified into a heavy block of lead, carrying the smell of disinfectant, sweat, and the remnants of an invisible, suffocating energy turbulence.
Ye Qingliu was still standing by the bed, his bony hand like a red-hot iron, pressing firmly and irresistibly on the mark on the inside of Chao Youye's wrist that was flashing with a faint blue light.
His body trembled uncontrollably due to the huge energy confrontation and the backlash of the rules. Veins bulged on his forehead and beads of cold sweat slid down the contours of his stern face.
There was a glaring trace of red at the corner of his mouth. It was the price he paid for forcibly intervening in the disorder at the core of the rules.
Chao Youye, who was in deep sedation, seemed to sense this violent suppression coming from the source of existence. His body was still spasming uncontrollably under the influence of the drugs, and every slight twitch was accompanied by a painful groan suppressed deep in his throat.
His pale, thin chest rose and fell violently beneath the hospital gown, and every breath was tearing and difficult.
The violet pupils moved restlessly under the tightly closed eyelids, and the long eyelashes were wet with cold sweat and stuck to the lower eyelids, making them fragile and vulnerable.
Although the green lines on the monitor screen had temporarily resumed their regular fluctuations, the baseline was still unstable. Every heartbeat was accompanied by a thrilling sense of fragility, as if it would fall into that fatal frenzy again at any time.
Ye Qingliu's gray-blue eyes were like a bottomless cold pool, filled with cold data streams and an absolute will to suppress everything.
The Observer's core program issued a sharp alarm, and the logic chain broke inch by inch under the huge backlash. But his hand pressing on the mark was as if welded, and it did not move at all.
He was using the power of the observer's origin to forcibly build a fragile dam to block the torrent of collapse of the core of the rules, and to buy an extremely weak breathing time for this body on the verge of annihilation.
The price was enormous. He could clearly feel the shattering whine of the Observer's core as the rules backfired, like shattering glass.
But as his cold gaze swept across Chao Youye's face, twitching in agony, and the flickering blue mark on his wrist, that reckless, unquestionable thought still held absolute dominance: It can't collapse! At least, not now! Not here!
Time slowly crawled by amidst the silent energy confrontation and dying gasps. Every second felt like dancing on the edge of a knife.
I don’t know how long it took, maybe only a few minutes, but it felt like a century.
Facing the blue, flickering mark on the inside of Youye's wrist, the light finally... dimmed slightly... under the suppression of Ye Qingliu's iron-like palm.
The flickering frequency, which was like that of a living thing, seemed to have slowed down to an imperceptible degree.
Ye Qingliu's tense body relaxed slightly. Slowly, with great difficulty, as if pulling out of solidified cement, he gradually withdrew the hand that was pressing on the mark.
The moment the fingertips left the skin, an intense pain that came from the soul suddenly hit me.
He groaned, his body swaying, and he had to reach out to hold on to the edge of the bed to steady himself. More cold sweat oozed from his forehead.
The faint blue light on the mark completely disappeared, returning to its previous state of gray and dead silence, as if the horrific collapse just now had never happened.
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