Chapter 57: Sunflowers Born from Light
Ruan Xingchen did not sleep all night.
She sat alone by the bedroom window, watching the rain rage outside. Her passport and gun lay quietly on the table, facing each other in the dim light.
The golden national emblem on the passport cover was exceptionally clear in the dim light, like a stable, clear sky, supporting the open and honest life she should have;
The pistol was pitch black, and the reflection of the lightning outside the window was like a bottomless abyss, freezing cold.
If she returned to China, she could be that simple medical student again, with only a stethoscope in the pocket of her white coat, and never have to hear a gunshot again;
If she stayed, she would live forever in blood and conspiracy, completely becoming a part of the dark world, with no way back.
This is not a simple choice of "leave" or "stay", but two completely different life choices.
There were lightning and thunder outside the window, and heavy rain continued to hit the glass.
She thought of the white coats in medical school, the smell of disinfectant in the laboratory, and her past dreams - to be an ordinary doctor, shuttling between operating rooms, wards and clinics every day, or to become a doctor without borders like her mother, rushing to those corners where medical resources are scarce to save lives and heal the wounded.
It was a clean and pure ideal, completely opposite to Mo Xiaohan's world.
Return to my country, return to school, return to the sunshine within reach...
But when she raised her hand to reach for her passport, she saw the ring on her ring finger - the "Eternal Day" ring that he had put on her hand when she was five years old.
Her heart suddenly felt like it was being gripped by a hand, and she curled up her fingers in pain.
She stroked the ring, thinking of the wounded boy in the medical team's tent who stubbornly told her "wait for me"; she thought of the way he held her up with his bloody hands on the auction table;
I remember him saying, "You can be afraid of anyone in this world, but you don't have to be afraid of me. Because in front of you, I will always be that boy...waiting for you to give me cookies."
Seventeen years.
He waited for her in the dark abyss for seventeen years, and carved every inch of his scars into proof of his recognition of her.
And isn't she the same?
Even if the car accident crushed the memory, it couldn't crush the concern. For seventeen years, she guarded this ring, guarding a vague shadow, and it became an obsession in the vastness.
In those moments when PTSD dragged her into hell, it was he who rescued her from the shattered despair. When she was trapped in the chaos of being devoured by nightmares and on the verge of collapse, it was he who accompanied her through every late night when she woke up screaming.
Even if I turn around and return home at this moment, put on a white coat and walk into the operating room, even if the coolness of the stethoscope overwhelms the chill of the gun, even if the smell of disinfectant covers the smell of gunpowder, what can it do?
That heart had long been hollowed out by Mo Xiaohan's name. The pockets of the white coat could not hold the complete self, and the shadowless lights in the operating room could not illuminate the shadow in the heart.
She knew clearly that she would never again feel her heart skip a beat for another person in this life; she would never again stare at an old thing in the middle of the night for someone.
He is the destined calamity in her life. No matter how far she goes or how deeply she forgets him, the place in her heart will never be empty.
Some people are with you for life from the moment you meet them.
You can't hide or escape.
Mist filled her eyes, tears slid down her jawline, hitting the ring, leaving a small wet mark.
At four o'clock in the morning, the heavy rain finally stopped.
Ruan Xingchen stood in front of the window, watching the servants loading the luggage into the car - Mo Xiaohan had even booked a plane ticket, flying from Bangkok to Beijing at ten o'clock this morning.
The passport and the gun were still in their places, and she reached out and slowly picked them up.
When the study door was pushed open, Mo Xiaohan was standing in front of the window, his lonely silhouette cast on the window frame, and even the morning light could not penetrate the silent shadow.
Without even turning his head, he said, "The luggage has been loaded into the car. The plane will be at—"
Ruan Xingchen didn't say anything, but tore the passport in half, threw it on the ground, then raised the gun and pointed it at his chest.
Mo Xiaohan didn't move, just looked at her, with dark currents surging in his eyes.
"Bang!"
The sound of an empty chamber reverberated through the room.
Ruan Xingchen dropped the gun, grabbed his tie and forced him to lower his head.
"Teach me how to shoot!" Her eyes burned with a fire he had never seen before, but her voice trembled: "I'm not asking you to protect me, but to let me stand shoulder to shoulder with you!"
Mo Xiaohan suddenly grabbed her neck and kissed her passionately and deeply, as if he wanted to pour all his unspoken emotions into this moment.
After that day, she began to look directly at the darkness he was in, no longer dodging. She began to learn guns and fighting, began to participate in Mo Xiaohan's meetings, and began to face the enemies who coveted his power.
Even though she still had nightmares and still trembled in the presence of blood, every time, Mo Xiaohan would hold her hand tightly until she calmed down.
"Do you regret it?" He asked as he wiped the blood off her face after dealing with a traitor.
Ruan Xingchen looked at the unfamiliar self in the mirror - the white coat was replaced by a bulletproof vest, the scalpel was replaced by a pistol, and the clarity in his eyes turned into an unmeltable frost.
"No regrets." She shook her head and said softly, "Because you are here."
However, that’s a story for later.
Three days later, Ruan Xingchen planted sunflower seeds in the garden, while Mo Xiaohan wiped his pistol beside him.
"Khun Sa is dead." He suddenly spoke, his voice flat and without a trace of emotion: "But there will be another enemy."
She buried the seeds firmly in the soil and compacted it with a small shovel: "I know."
“My hands will never be clean.”
"I know."
"You could have lived in the sunshine."
Ruan Xingchen raised his head and pressed his muddy hand to his heart, leaving a brown palm print: "But my 'Starlight' is here."
＊＊＊
“Why can’t he clean up?”
——Because the throne at the top of power is already piled with bones.
To remove the darkness is to cut off one's own life.
Light is the most luxurious and fatal wound for those in power.
"Why must she fall into darkness?"
——Because pure white flowers cannot survive the cold winter of this world.
If I stay with him, I will dye my soul the same color as his, there is no other choice.
"Why didn't she choose to leave?"
——Because some encounters in this world are a fall from which there is no turning back from the very beginning.
Like thorns and roses coexisting, like wounds and blood scabs entangled.
He accompanied her through the most painful hell, but she was already in hell, accepting her fate and the people.
Now this darkness has become the most familiar destination.
If we can't stand in the light together, then we'll go into the abyss together.
The bond in darkness is deeper than the oath in light.
So, let it be dark.
At least here, there is his arms.
"If he doesn't turn evil, can't he protect her?"
——Of course I can protect it. But I can only protect it temporarily, not forever.
He can block all the arrows and arrows for her, but she also has to learn to enjoy the taste of blood.
The rules of survival at the top of power are cruel and realistic.
This is a cannibalistic world. Pure souls will eventually be torn apart. Innocence is more deadly than bullets.
Love is not an eternal shelter, darkness is the best protective color.
The ultimate protection is to let her become the abyss itself.
Can there be a happy ending if we just clear our name?
That's just an innocent fairy tale.
Even in this fictional story, restoring the blood-stained throne to its original purity seems absurd and unrealistic.
The reality is——
- The man at the top of power wants to retire?
The next day the body will be floating on the Chao Phraya River
- The naive heroine lives in a dark empire?
Not even a bone residue will be left
A pair of bloodstained hands is destined to hold only another pair of bloodstained hands.
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