With an explosive force visible to the naked eye, he clenched his fist.
“Crack!”
It was her smoothly trimmed nails that pierced the skin of her palm deeply and fiercely under the sudden burst of force that was enough to crush bones!
Bright red blood beads, like suddenly blooming red spider lilies, instantly seeped out from between the tightly clenched fingers, gathered, and then -
“Pah.”
A drop of sticky, warm, glaring scarlet blood fell on the pale, cold terrazzo floor tiles beneath his feet, creating a small, poignant and gorgeous flower of blood.
In Ye Fanshuang's senses, the world instantly faded, lost its voice, and distorted!
The explosion-proof glass that separated life and death, Su Xinghui's haggard and twisted face, the humming exhaust fan above her head, the cold plastic chair beneath her...
Everything blurred, spun, and collapsed! All that was left before my eyes was an overwhelming, suffocating blood-red!
She felt as if she were back in that nightmarish hospital corridor. The pale light stung her eyes, and the thick, inextricable smell of disinfectant seeped into every pore, chilling her to the bone.
The air was filled with the despairing silence of approaching death, and only the frantic beating of my own heartbeat pounded against my eardrums like a drum.
She stood outside the thick frosted glass door of the ICU that separated life and death.
The cold air enveloped her, chilling her to the bone, but it was not even a ten-thousandth as cold as the feeling deep in her heart.
She straightened her back like a lone pine on a cliff, and only her clenched fists revealed the turbulent waves in her heart.
Through the blurry glass, she could see a shadowy and swaying white figure inside.
The monotonous and regular "beep-beep" sound emitted by various cold instruments is the only background sound, but it is more terrifying than any other noise.
The interval between each "beep" sound seems as long as a century.
Ye Qingliu lay on the cold bed inside. The once high-spirited young man was now covered in tubes of varying thicknesses and colors.
An oxygen mask covered most of his face.
Ye Fanshuang forced herself to look away. Every time she glanced at the gauze soaked with dark red blood, it felt like a cold knife was cutting her heart repeatedly.
The ventilator assisted his every labored breath, and the faint rise and fall seemed as if it would stop in the next second.
Countless times in her heart, she had prayed to all the gods she knew and didn't know, using up all the calmness, restraint, and deep-seated despair she had accumulated over twenty years of life.
She was willing to exchange everything in the Ye family for him! Wealth, power, even her own life! As long as he could survive! As long as he could open those gray-blue eyes that were as deep as the sea!
"Ms. Ye?" Across the glass, Su Xinghui's voice, tinged with a hint of temptation and uncertainty, was like a poisoned needle, suddenly piercing through the bloody illusion in which Ye Fanshuang was sinking.
Ye Fanshuang suddenly raised his head.
Those bottomless eyes, which seemed to be frozen by ten thousand years of ice, instantly locked onto Su Xinghui who was on the other side of the glass.
Her body was as taut as a bowstring due to her extreme restraint. Blood was still oozing out from between the fingers of her clenched left fist, winding down along the inside of her wrist and leaving a small, glaring red patch on the cuff of her snow-white shirt.
Her jawline was as sharp as a knife.
"Su, Xing, Hui." Ye Fanshuang said.
It was a voice that had been tempered by absolute zero, extremely low and hoarse, and extremely cold!
Every word was like an ice spike dug out from deep in the frozen soil, carrying a biting cold, and nailed into Su Xinghui's heart with incredible precision!
"You--" Ye Fanshuang's voice was not loud, but it was sharp enough to cut off everything.
"Not-qualified-" Each syllable was like an icicle dropping to the ground, carrying a tremendous weight, "--to mention--his-name!"
The last four words were like four pieces of heavy black ice, smashing down with a chill that could freeze everything!
Su Xinghui's soul was frozen by the sudden and extremely cold murderous intent. She gasped and her body shrank back suddenly as if pierced by an invisible ice cone.
His back hit the cold back of the chair hard, and the blood color on his withered face instantly faded away, leaving only the grayness of a dead person.
She instinctively wanted to curl up and escape from this deadly sight, but her body was as stiff as an ice sculpture. She could only stare in vain at the figure like an ice queen on the other side of the glass with her eyes filled with complete terror.
Ye Fanshuang stood up slowly, extremely slowly, with a heavy, unquestionable strength in his movements.
She stepped in front of the explosion-proof glass.
The distance between the two was instantly shortened to the limit, with only the cold, scratched barrier between them.
She slowly raised her blood-stained left hand, palm down, and with a judgmental gesture, pressed it lightly yet heavily on the explosion-proof glass.
The sticky, warm blood on the palm of his hand left an extremely clear and shocking palm print on the cold glass surface.
"Look at me." Ye Fanshuang's voice was like the cold wind blowing across the ice field, carrying an unquestionable command.
Su Xinghui tried desperately to look away, but her body went against her will and she raised her head stiffly, little by little.
Her gaze was forced to meet Ye Fanshuang's eyes, which were close to her and burning with icy flames.
"You asked me if he is okay?" Ye Fanshuang raised the corner of his mouth in a very faint and cold arc, and lowered his voice even more.
"Let me tell you what he was like."
She leaned forward slightly, her eyes fixed on Su Xinghui through the cold glass. Her voice was like a steel knife scraping bones, calmly and cruelly stating:
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