Suffused with despair (dedicated to natural diamonds)

She felt a deep sadness, yet she softly called out to him, "Young Master Ye!"

Darkness completely enveloped the man’s figure. Ye Shenghan did not look up; he remained slumped over the steering wheel for a long time, unable to move.

He heard her calling him in the dark. That familiar, gentle voice pulled at him through his stupor, yet his entire body could not stop trembling. He felt as though his heart were being sliced by knives, his very soul torn apart. Hidden within those heavy, ragged breaths was a profound agony, like a wounded young beast curled up and whimpering. That pain drilled into him, fine and relentless. In his ears, her angry accusations from earlier still lingered, refusing to dissipate, winding tightly around him.

"You have no idea how he holds me, squeezing until my bones creak, or what kind of hatred is suppressed within his body."

"He is like a poisonous snake, not only trying to burrow into my body but forcing his way into my heart. He fights to dig in, desperate to hollow me out completely."

Ye Shenghan slowly raised his eyes. The surrounding darkness was cold and chilling, sweeping in upon him. He looked at her sideways, glimpsing her only through the dim moonlight.

Fine, dense bloodshot veins mapped his dark pupils. Ye Shenghan looked at that familiar face. Seventeen years—seventeen full years from the time she was eight until she was twenty-five. The innocence had faded from those features, quietly replaced by a gentle, graceful demeanor.

*Linglan*, he called out in his heart. That New Year's Eve, on the other end of the phone, he had whispered *Je t'aime*—did she remember? In the biting cold of that night, she had returned a faint smile and whispered *Je t'aime* back to him.

Ye Shenghan’s eyes suddenly welled with a thin mist. His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly.

*Je t'aime*, I love you!

I love you, *Je t'aime!*

Each word, each breath, crossed thousands of mountains and heavy clouds. Heaven and Earth were witnesses, yet suddenly, you are drifting further and further away from me, a distance now impossible to touch.

His lips trembled as he laughed, a hollow sound, his expression stained with grief.

She leaned against the car door, watching his silent, mirthless smile. Linglan murmured, "Young Master Ye." She did not want him to know of her relationship with Mo Zhicheng—a secret she had guarded with such care... She dared not imagine what would happen next, but then she saw him take out his phone and hold it blankly before her. "Just an hour before I received Bai Yuchen's call..." His Adam’s apple bobbed with bitterness, and he said with difficulty, "I had already leaked the scandal of Tiancheng to the media!" He looked at her and smiled, the curve of his lips utterly desolate. Then, through the gloom, he watched the woman’s expression shift instantly. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her delicate face drained of all color, and fearful tears welled up and trembled in her eyes. "What... did you say?" Her voice shook; she felt entirely lost.

In the darkness, the man’s smile became even more wretched. He simply stared, saying, "I said, just an hour ago, I already leaked the Tiancheng scandal!"

A thunderclap seemed to echo in Linglan’s mind. "Young Master Ye..." She could not believe it, as if she had been cast into the depths of an abyss.

Why did he plan this ahead of time? Why didn't he discuss it with her? Why!! She was in chaos. If it was leaked an hour ago, then in no time at all, Tiancheng would be shaken to its foundations. "Why?" she demanded. As the word left her lips, she realized her tone was startlingly desperate.

She had always been respectful to Young Master Ye and had never interrogated him so sharply. But suddenly, she lunged at him, grabbing his shoulders and questioning him relentlessly. "Wasn't it supposed to be in six days? I was just coming to find you. I have so many unanswered questions. Why move it up? Why not consult me? Why do it so suddenly? Why not wait for me? Why? Why?"

She pressed him with frantic questions, but the man’s face remained taut, dark fire burning in his eyes. Just as she continued to push, he suddenly raised his hand. She braced for a slap, but instead, there was a deafening crash. She gasped, stunned, as the world fell into silence, shattered along with the car window.

The cold wind poured in, and shards of glass grazed her face. The sharp pain brought her back to her senses, and she realized the man before her had finally reached his limit, his emotions bursting like a dam as he smashed the window. How much rage must he be feeling?

"Are you reluctant to let him go?" He stared at her, his body leaning in to oppress hers. Men do not cry easily, but the moisture in his eyes had condensed into beads of despair. Despite his best efforts to hold them back, they fell. He shouted, "I am asking you, are you reluctant to give up Mo Zhicheng?! Ye Linglan!"

His sorrowful voice shook her to the core. Linglan looked back at him in a daze, and only when she heard the *drip-drip* of blood did she wake from her trance. She looked at his right hand and was horrified—it was a bloody mess, soaking the seat and even staining her white down jacket, like blooming poppies, radiating an aura of desire and sin in the dark of the night.

She lost control, crying out, "Let's go to the hospital, Young Master Ye, let's go to the hospital." She only knew he was losing too much blood; shards of glass had embedded themselves into his flesh and pierced his veins.

Unexpectedly, he steadied her shoulders. "I ask you, why are you so nervous? Why are you so afraid of the news leaking? Why were you so distracted on New Year's Eve, so out of sorts by my side? Is it because you care for Mo Zhicheng, afraid of losing him, or have you already fallen in love with him?!"

*—Or have you already fallen in love with him!*

No, she shook her head, choking back sobs. Under his grip, she shook her head desperately. Young Master Ye had pinpointed the truth, but no, it was impossible for her to love him, impossible to love Mo Zhicheng! His grip was as strong as iron. Linglan gasped for air. His blood flowed like a river, and she pleaded softly, "Young Master Ye, I beg you, let's go to the hospital first, okay?"

He used all his strength to hold her tight, his bloodied palm pressing into her dark hair, burying her in his embrace. His breath was heavy and hot against her cheek, but his lips were cold, devoid of warmth from the blood loss. He pressed them against her hair and her cheeks. He cradled her—the woman he cherished most—and kissed her repeatedly. The air was thick with the scent of blood. Finally, he kissed her lips and slowly closed his eyes, tears streaming down. Her body, her heart, had been far away from him for too long.

Linglan tried to pull away, but she could not escape his hold. "Let's go to the hospital first. Let's go to the hospital and treat the wounds on your hand." Her voice turned stern, which only prompted him to kiss her more fiercely and urgently. He threaded his fingers through her hair, cupping the back of her head, his tongue prying open her lips. He entangled himself with her, his strength violent, yet his kiss was incredibly gentle, as if he were holding a sacred offering he dared not desecrate. In his heart, she was forever as pure and beautiful as a white lily of the valley.

But she struggled, her arms pushing against him, her head darting away. He ignored it, stifling her breath, his tongue tasting her. Her lips were soft, and he sucked on them obsessively as if afraid they might shatter, as if he could only find peace—and erase the shattered fragments of his heart—by swallowing her whole.

He loved her; his love ran so deep.

He shifted, kissing her from every angle, his tongue darting deep, wrapping around hers and refusing to let go. His mouth was filled with her fragrance, like the scent of fresh grass after rain in a spring field. He realized that in a world filled with schemes and intrigue, she was his only pure sanctuary.

Yet, his kiss was permeated with intense despair. As she pushed against him with all her might, his palm throbbed with agony, and she seized the chance to shove him away. Ye Shenghan stumbled back against the seat, looking at her in a daze. From the way she avoided his gaze, he realized he had lost something—something most precious that could never be reclaimed.

His heart seemed to shatter at that moment. *Linglan, did you hear? My heart is broken!*

Linglan subconsciously wiped the lingering moisture from her lips. She looked up, dazed, to see tear tracks crisscrossing Young Master Ye’s handsome face. He looked at her weakly, his face as pale as paper. Her hand froze in mid-air, and tears fell uncontrollably. The kiss she had secretly longed for for seventeen years was one she now found herself repulsing. This was Young Master Ye—the man she had secretly loved for seventeen years!

But when his lips and tongue had pressed against hers, her mind went blank—she had felt a need to guard the loyalty of her own body! She could not believe it, but looking at the pool of blood on his seat, she realized the severity of the situation. She hurriedly dialed Bai Yuchen’s number, her fingers trembling uncontrollably in her panic.

***

When Bai Yuchen arrived at the hospital emergency room, it was nearly three in the morning. The hospital corridor was quiet and empty.

Linglan sat outside the emergency room, her gaze fixed and vacant. Her hair was disheveled, there were light scratches on her face, and her white down jacket was stained with blood.

Bai Yuchen rushed over in a panic. "What on earth happened? Where is Ye Shenghan?"

Hearing his voice, Linglan looked up, her expression filled with terror. Ye Shenghan had lost too much blood from his arm, and she had driven the car back to the hospital from the wilderness all by herself. Linglan stared blankly into the emergency room. Bai Yuchen followed her gaze and saw a shocking sight.

A doctor was leaning over, carefully treating Ye Shenghan’s wounds. On a white medical tray lay shards of glass of various sizes, all incredibly sharp. The floor was stained with blood, yet Ye Shenghan kept his eyes closed, his silent face deathly pale.

The doctor heard the noise behind him and remarked, "Coming in so late, the wounds are infected, and there are many shards still difficult to remove. If you had waited another moment, this hand would have been ruined."

Bai Yuchen gasped. Looking at Ye Shenghan again, he realized the man was crazy—truly crazy!

In the haze, Ye Shenghan slowly opened his eyes. He glanced at Bai Yuchen without a word, then looked through the gap in the door at the thin, fragile figure waiting outside.