Chapter 55 The Price of the Throne
——She thought she had grasped the darkness, but she didn't know that there was an even deeper knife hidden in the abyss.
At Bangkok's Asiatique Pier Night Market, neon signs cast a hazy glow in the humid air. Ruan Xingchen pinched a bowl of freshly bought mango sticky rice. The sweet aroma of the rice, mixed with the distant scent of spices, wafted over, tickling her nose.
Not long ago, Professor Klein repeatedly reminded in a video follow-up that after clinical recovery from PTSD, continued social participation remains the core maintenance strategy to prevent symptom recurrence, and the treatment effect needs to be consolidated through normalization and integration into real-life scenarios.
So, she followed the instructions and stepped into this lively hustle and bustle.
At this moment, the sweetness of glutinous rice spreads over the tip of the tongue, mixed with the lively hawking sounds and the crisp clinking of glasses in the night market, which makes people feel more at ease than imagined.
Mo Xiaohan walked half a step behind her, wearing a simple white shirt, losing his former solemnity, but his left hand was always protecting her waist.
The bodyguards behind him maintained a subtle distance, neither appearing deliberate nor able to quietly separate the pushing and shoving crowd when it was crowded.
"Try it?" She suddenly turned and placed a piece of mango sticky rice to his lips, her eyes curved into crescents. The rice stuck to her fingertips, and he lowered his head to bite it, his tongue carelessly brushing against her fingertips.
"Sweet," he commented, but stared at her lips that were dyed a rosy red by the neon.
The moment the fireworks exploded in the night sky, he leaned over and kissed her. The cheers of the crowd and the joyful sounds of the children became a vague and gentle background sound, leaving only the soft touch of lips and teeth and the gentle sound of heartbeats, turning all the noise into a sweet moment.
When the embers of assassination mixed with fireworks approached, Ruan Xingchen was squatting in front of a stall, choosing earrings. She picked up a pair of sunflower-shaped ones and turned to ask him if they looked good.
"This pair of sunflowers..." The smile just appeared on her face and then froze on her face.
Mo Xiaohan's pupils suddenly shrank, and he pulled her into his arms.
"Bang!"
The first bullet shattered the earring she had just put down, glass shards flew everywhere, and the crowd was instantly in chaos.
Amid the screams and shoves, Mo Xiaohan protected her and retreated to the corner of the wall, blood gushing from his left arm - he was shot.
"The remnants of Khun Sa." He tore open the hem of his shirt and bandaged the wound tightly. His voice was terrifyingly calm. "Atai, clear the area."
Ruan Xingchen was trembling all over as she watched the bodyguards disperse like a black tide. A girl in school uniform fell at her feet, and the ice cream in her hand was all over the floor.
"Don't look." Mo Xiaohan covered her eyes, and the thin calluses on his fingertips made her eyelashes tremble.
But she still saw it through her fingers——
The bullet pierced the old man selling grilled bananas between his eyebrows, and his cloudy eyeballs rolled down to the side of the grill.
The children were trampled by the panicked crowd, their cries like a strangled cat.
Artest was shot in the abdomen and fell to the ground, his finger still on the trigger.
…
When Mo Xiaohan shot the attacker in the head, his warm brains splattered on her skirt. He gritted his teeth in her ear, his voice tinged with blood: "On the count of three, run behind the fire hydrant."
The grill was overturned, charcoal splattering all over the floor. The crowd screamed and fled. The muffled sound of more bullets piercing flesh echoed in succession. Blood splattered onto the sugar painting stall three meters away, instantly dyeing the solidified sugar figures red.
"three!"
The moment he pushed her out, she saw a killer with blood all over his face aiming a gun at Mo Xiaohan's back. Seeing the opportunity he left to protect himself, Ruan Xingchen's body moved before her mind.
She grabbed the skewer from the grilled squid stall next to her and stabbed it into the killer's eye socket with all her strength. The warm liquid splashed into her mouth, and it tasted fishy and bitter.
After returning to the manor, Ruan Xingchen curled up in the corner of the bathroom and scrubbed her hands frantically. The blood had been washed away long ago, but there seemed to be a sticky touch still clinging to her skin, and even her nails smelled fishy. Her skin was scratched and bleeding, but she couldn't stop.
The feeling of the iron skewer piercing my eyeball, the scalding blood spraying on my face, the temperature of my hand...
Killing is so simple.
It turns out that Mo Xiaohan’s world... is so cold.
Mo Xiaohan stood outside the door, with a long piece of cigarette ash between his fingers. He listened to the suppressed sobs and the sound of water inside, his brows furrowed.
Professor Klein's instructions kept echoing in his mind - the nerves after trauma were extremely fragile. Beneath the surface calm, the abyss could crack at any time, revealing a sharper blade.
He was worried that this bloody encounter would tear apart the peace she had worked so hard to build, allowing those locked-up nightmares to break free.
She mechanically repeated the scrubbing action, and the pain of the scratched skin was almost numb, as if only in this way could she temporarily suppress the trembling that surged from the depths of her soul and made her want to scream.
When the bathroom door was gently pushed open, Ruan Xingchen was still rubbing her hands mechanically. Mo Xiaohan knelt on one knee in front of her and gently held her bleeding fingers: "That's enough, it's clean now."
"I killed someone..." She stared at her shaking hands, "I could kill someone so easily..."
"You are protecting me." He held her face in his hands and rested his forehead against hers: "You did nothing wrong."
Ruan Xingchen suddenly collapsed, tears falling on the back of his hand: "But I don't want to get used to this! I don't want to raise the knife one day and feel nothing in my heart!"
Her cry hit his heart, hurting more than a bullet - he should push her away before she was stained black. This thought suddenly pierced his heart sharply.
But the seventeen years of waiting had already become an obsession engraved in his bones and blood. Now she was in his arms, her crying breath burning his neck, and he was reluctant to let go.
"This is my world." He tightened his arms, pressing her deeper into his embrace. "Darkness won't be merciful out of fear, and bloodshed won't stop out of resistance." His deep voice trembled, even unconsciously. "But you can choose how to view it."
Late at night, Mo Xiaohan stood in front of the surveillance screen, looking at the hiding place of the remnants of Khun Sa, and heard the sound of execution confirmations one after another in his headphones.
A pair of hands gently wrapped around his waist from behind, carrying the light scent of freshly washed shower gel.
"Don't look back." Ruan Xingchen pressed her face against his back. "I just need to confirm...you're still warm."
He froze in place, feeling her tears soaking through his shirt.
"I've seen the darkest medical and physiology books, rotting bodies, necrotic organs..." She choked, "But your world... devours humanity even more than cancer cells."
Mo Xiaohan slowly turned around, put the pistol into her palm, then held her hand and pressed it against his heart.
"This is the price." He lowered his head and kissed away the tears on her eyelashes, his voice as deep as the abyss, "Standing by my side is the price you must pay."
He gently lifted her chin and asked her to look directly into his eyes. "I will teach you how to control your heartbeat."
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