Xiang Ziye froze, his pale face turning even paler. His throat was being crushed, and a sound like a broken bellows came from his throat.
His eyes turned bloodshot, and he coughed up blood mist from his nose and throat, panting for breath, as if something was buzzing in his eardrums.
"Brother Xiang, I'm sorry, I can't die." A cold, hoarse voice came from beside him.
The next moment, he was thrown and pulled backward by an enormous, inhuman force, and the world spun around him in an instant.
This time, it was his turn to fall uncontrollably off the bridge.
In that instant, he saw the swirling crescent moon and the scattered stars on the horizon, as if they were about to fall into the dark mountains and fields.
A sharp, whistling wind whistled past his ears... brushing against his cheeks, and in a daze, he felt as if he had returned to a long time ago.
On the same night, the girl with braids sat in the rocking chair in the courtyard. It was a summer night, and a huge crescent moon hung above her head.
When he came home from school, she looked up at him, a faint smile on her beautiful, pure face: "Ah Ye, you're here?"
Xiang Ziye looked at her, his heart warmed, and he was about to speak.
Blood slowly trickled from the girl's beautiful, smiling eyes. Rainwater mingled with the blood as it flowed down her face, and her smile gradually turned pale.
He instinctively reached out and lunged forward to grab her: "..."
But all that his outstretched fingers touched was the cold, blood-stained, and watery wind.
Everything is but a fleeting moment, a dream that lasts only a day.
It turns out that his childhood sweetheart remained forever in the reservoir forest during that summer night's downpour, never to emerge again...
The next moment, his blood-red pupils suddenly contracted, and what he saw was He Su's blood-stained, slippery, and relieved face hanging on the outer edge of the bridge.
Her venomous eyes were coldly fixed on him.
Suddenly, Xiang Ziye pulled haphazardly, and with a burst of strength from who knows where, he grabbed the metal suspension rope hanging from Rong Zhaonan's waist.
This special rope was originally a single rope, which was fixed to the steel frame between the bridge by the launcher, with Rong Zhaonan hanging at one end and He Su hanging at the other.
The weight that the rope can suspend is already limited, and when it suddenly straightens, the steel frame on the side of the bridge also rusts!
"Creak—" The already rusted steel frame made a teeth-grinding bending sound.
Rong Zhaonan stood on the steel frame outside the bridge, suddenly sensing something was wrong, and his face turned cold.
The moment he was pulled off the bridge again, he gripped the bridge railing tightly with one hand and deftly reached for the locking buckle on his belt with the other.
But before he could loosen the restraints around his waist, he suddenly felt the immense force pulling him down disappear.
He turned his head and saw Xiang Ziye using the force of his earlier tug to grab He Su, who was hanging on the side of the bridge, with the last of his strength!
He Su's originally relaxed face twisted with fear the moment Xiang Ziye grabbed her!
"Let me go—you damn idiot—let me go—"
But as if in a final burst of energy, Xiang Ziye's arms gripped her tightly like iron hoops.
“…to…die together…” He gave He Su a strange and chilling smile, and squeezed out the last three words from his mouth, which was spitting out blood.
He Su stared intently at Rong Zhaonan and screamed, "Zhaonan!!"
Rong Zhaonan looked at her coldly, and in He Su's desperate and fearful eyes, he released the buckle.
The safety suspension rope detached instantly, causing the fall.
"Ahhh—" The woman's terrified and shrill screams echoed through the night.
until--
"Bang!" A heavy object fell to the ground, and a human body struck the stone and water with a dull thud, the sound of bones shattering sending chills down one's spine.
At the moment of impact, Xiang Ziye even forcefully pulled He Su over, making her directly bear the initial impact of the fall.
The sound of a skull shattering rang out, and the soft brain tissue crumbled like tofu under the enormous impact.
She could even see the stalagmite lifting half of her scalp... her proudly slender and beautiful limbs twisted into bizarre angles.
The pain did not disappear instantly; time flowed on, and each second became incredibly long.
The river water constantly washed over his body, taking away his blood and warmth.
Under the huge crescent moon on the horizon, Mingming was nearly ten stories away from the tall, slender figure standing coldly on the bridge.
She felt as if she could see every inch of his face clearly, as if he were looking at her shattered body like an inanimate object.
His eyes were cold and narrow, his brows were sharp and his nose was high and straight, and his lips were thin and pale.
They are all exquisitely beautiful, like sculptures...
No, if he were the same boy I first met, his face would be even more beautiful, his lips naturally crimson like flower petals, and his eyes and brows would not have been honed by bullets, gunpowder, and the hardships of life to appear so cold and profound.
The boy who had not been sculpted by her malice...
The boy, as beautiful as a crabapple blossom after the rain or an epiphyllum under the moon, was the most handsome she had ever seen in her life, and his body was as beautiful as a work of art.
She still remembers...
Many years ago, on that sweltering late night, the man went on a long trip, and she returned from the theater, still drenched in sweat after her shower.
She leaned against the balcony, smoking and looking at her hands, feeling frustrated.
Her body and bones no longer possess the softness and agility of her youth, and there is no longer a stage that allows her to spin freely and gracefully.
Beauty fades with time and night, unappreciated and unloved.
She leaned against the balcony smoking, feeling suffocated and her heart ached, but she inadvertently saw a slender, tall boy standing naked in the bathroom downstairs, taking a shower.
That was her stepson, who had returned from abroad. He was the son of her husband's ex-wife, whom he had never met.
From his perspective, he probably wouldn't have imagined this angle; from this balcony, nothing is obstructed.
Water flowed down his handsome, delicate eyebrows, nose, lips, and down his Adam's apple.
Until the boy's thin but well-defined chest and still slender waist, and his already... well-developed sexual symbols.
His skin, under the dim, yellowish light, had an ivory sheen. With the sound of water, the clean-cut, handsome young man resembled a Soviet oil painting she had seen in a museum.
...
For a moment she was in a daze, and suddenly remembered her husband.
From childhood, she always thought that men were earthy and smelly, with a dirty, sweaty odor.
But when I first saw Rong Wenwu, I felt he was an exception. His handsome and mature features were indifferent and aloof. He sat upright with his military uniform buttoned up to the top.
Like a steel blade stained with blood from war, it is mature, hard, and unyielding, carrying the scent of steel and blood.
But...
He was very fair-skinned and hardly sweated. Among men of the same rank and with a strong aura of iron and blood, he stood out from the crowd, like some kind of ancient ritual vessel capable of killing.
At that time, she thought she wanted to be his wife, but she never imagined that she would go to such lengths to become his bedmate, only to find out later...
It turns out that his blade is equally hard and indifferent to everyone, including his wife who bore him children.
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