Chapter 138: I am willing... to go to hell...

"Tell me who the hell did this." Shen Yanlie's fierce, murderous gaze was like that of a thoroughly enraged beast, radiating a dangerous aura from head to toe as he continued to interrogate Yuwens.

"I really don't know. You could kill me right now and I still wouldn't know." Yuwens only felt a splitting pain in his head; if he was going to kill the bastard who had hurt little Mai, he had to get past his current state first.

Shen Yanlie abruptly shoved Yuwens aside, suddenly aware of his own loss of control—a burden that far exceeded his capacity to bear.

The child was gone, and with it, he had lost the very last reason he could use to keep her shackled to him...

With a listless demeanor, Shen Yanlie turned slightly, pressed a hand to his forehead, and slowly walked toward the window. He felt that he needed something to hold onto, to lean against, to prop himself up so he could continue standing here without collapsing.

"Get out," Shen Yanlie said in a low voice, keeping his head down with one hand pressed against the wall.

Uwens was momentarily stunned, only to hear Shen Yanlie faintly repeat, "I told you to get out."

The scene was chillingly reminiscent of the time he had roared at Wu Meili to get out. His frame of mind right now must be equally agonizing, and one could only imagine how deeply Wu Meili had been hurt by him just moments ago.

Uwens raised a hand, sniffed, wiped his eyes, gathered a shred of composure, and walked out toward the door.

Long after the ward door clicked shut, Shen Yanlie's body remained completely motionless, standing like a statue. His lowered head obscured any glimpse of his expression.

Tears streamed from the corners of Mai Xijun's eyes, wetting her temples in continuous trails. The silence of the room and the hollowness in her heart made her feel dazed, as if she were completely cut off from the world, stranded in a desolate wasteland.

She had already woken up in a state of agitation when Uwens roared at Wu Meili to get out, but she had been unwilling to admit that she was awake, unwilling to acknowledge a reality that could no longer be altered.

"Mai Xijun, you betrayed Little Stone's affection. One day, you will be betrayed by the one you love in the exact same manner. I curse you using this soul about to vanish from the world: the suffering Little Stone endured for your sake, one day you shall feel it in your own flesh and blood, doubled."

Look, that curse had finally become reality. She was enduring a thousandfold, bone-deep, flesh-ripping agony that pierced straight to her marrow.

If she was still alive at this moment, she must be enduring the slow slicing of death by a thousand cuts.

The child was lost, and with it, even the last faint possibility of staying by his side had been destroyed.

She had forced herself to believe, as a fragile deception, that as long as it wasn't certain he was the one who had hurt Little Stone, this child could serve as a bond, giving her a reason to remain near him.

Yet the child was gone, and she had lost the final excuse and opportunity to linger by his side.

Han Xingyao must have truly cursed her, ensuring that for as long as she harbored any lingering desire to rekindle the past with Shen Yanlie in this lifetime, she would be relentlessly plagued by an unceasing, repeating agony.

Shen Yanlie slowly turned around. At this very moment, he still felt a lingering dizziness in his world. This child had arrived so abruptly, making him feel so acutely how joyful the advent of new life could be; yet the child had also departed too suddenly, snatched away before he was remotely prepared. With the child gone, he could no longer deploy his final tactics to perfection.

Xiao Mai, how am I supposed to treat you? Can I truly harden my heart completely, pulling every string and playing every cruel scheme to imprison you by my side for the rest of your life, unshakeable even if you hate me?

He was a man of absolute confidence, yet at this moment, he had lost every ounce of it. He did not know what to do. To use force would only wound her more deeply; to let her go would mean losing her forever.

The mere thought of it drove him to the brink of madness. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he took her hand. Overwhelmed by an uncontrollable surge of emotion, a stinging pain pricked at the bridge of his nose, and crystal-clear tears instantly welled up in his eyes. He choked back a sob, his voice hoarse as tears slid down the bridge of his nose.

Shen Yanlie could not remember the last time he had cried. Ten years, twenty years, or perhaps even longer...

When he was still too young to fully understand yet vaguely aware of the gravity of the situation, he had wept and clutched Shen Yiling's hand, begging her not to leave his side or to take him with her. But Shen Yiling had brushed away his small fingers and left with Shen Qian. From that very fraction of a second onward, his tears had all but dried up completely.

As he grew older and wiser, he came to understand the chain of cause and effect. His parents' marriage had been arranged; they had never loved each other, and though they had brought him and his older brother into the world, neither had kept him by their side to raise him.

He could not say he felt no hatred; he only knew he had no idea where to direct that hatred. In the life that followed, he forgot what it meant to shed tears, forgot what it meant to weep. Tears were things that should never belong to him—they were the mark of the weak. He had to be strong, strong enough that the crowds would look up to him in awe, allowing him to freely look down upon the entire world.

He was an unadulterated victor. He was exceptional, and his living conditions were lavish. Regardless of height, appearance, identity, or status, he stood above all others as an arrogant, undisputed monarch. He could rule over the people of his own domain, possessing boundless territories and mountains of wealth. He was a man of supreme prestige, yet he was also the loneliest soul in this city, in this entire nation.

He wielded absolute freedom within his own fortress, yet he had never imagined that one day, a lonely little girl would stand at his gates—a little girl who seemed like an elf fallen from the mortal realm, possessing clear eyes, yet carrying an endless, boundless desolation and loneliness deep within them.

In a daze, he had seen himself, seen his habitual self standing in front of the world just like that. Back then, he too had carried eyes devoid of sorrow or joy, his chronically aloof expression bearing almost no emotion, numb and deadened like a walking corpse...

From the very first moment he laid eyes on her, he told himself that from now on, he would never let her be lonely again.

Just like that, as he watched her, he distinctly felt something brewing within his heart, fermenting in his body, and finally expanding until he could accept it all. At that moment, his heart was inching closer and closer to hers.

Her appearance awakened every dormant sense within him...

When she was happy, he would smile from the bottom of his heart; when she was sad, he would feel as though a heavy stone were pressing down upon his soul.

When she was unhappy, he would use every means at his disposal to distract her; when she was wronged, he would gracefully help her up from the very spot she had fallen, and proclaim to the entire world: "I love you just the way you are—a little reckless, a little headstrong, yet daring to love and hate, daring to act and take responsibility, never concealing yourself or hiding from others because, right here before me, I understand you."

Now, he would never dare say those words to her again. Once upon a time, he had tyrannically declared his ownership over her; today, he feared that uttering those words would only turn into a weapon of harm, creating a chasm between them so wide that they would never be able to cross it...

He knew that from this day forward, certain sorrows would accompany him for the rest of his life, until his dying breath. He only dared to tightly clasp her hand while she was fast asleep, for he had no idea how he could possibly face her if she were awake.

Even though he knew that, at this very moment, she was actually wide awake.

His tears continued to flow, dampening his eye sockets until his eyes began to burn with bloodshot veins.

There was no turning back, no possibility of ever holding her in his arms again. I am willing to be cursed by her; I am willing... to go to hell...

***

Whennian Yuchen returned to the hospital, Mai Xijun was already awake. She merely drooped her eyelids slightly, observing the comings and goings of the world through the narrow slit between her eyelids and eyelashes.

"Junjun, have some food," Nian Yuchen said softly with a look of concern, lowering his voice appropriately for fear of disturbing her thoughts.

"I'm not hungry," Mai Xijun slightly parted her chapped lips, her voice raspy and faint. Had Nian Yuchen not been hanging on her every word and action, he wouldn't even have been able to hear what she had just said.

Yet at this moment, Nian Yuchen almost wished she wouldn't speak or reply, because that at least would give the impression that she was safely immersed in her own world.

Instead, she was currently well aware of where she was and what had happened, yet she still possessed enough awareness to respond to those around her out of courtesy. She hadn't lost her mind; rather, she had completely dragged herself into a tightly sealed, cocooned world of her own making.

In that place, she walked entirely alone, and everything else in existence no longer had anything to do with her.

Her answers to him were likely driven by nothing more than politeness.

Nian Yuchen wanted to offer words of comfort, but he constantly felt that saying anything at this moment was entirely meaningless and would only appear redundant. After all, this was the agony of losing one's own flesh and blood; what in this world could possibly be more sorrowful and desolate than the breaking up of a family?

Mai Xijun was not an ignorant girl; she understood all too well. Right now, she needed time—time to pry open the door to her own heart once again... and slowly walk back out.

Nian Yuchen thought to himself that he ought to be that kind of person—someone who could melt her wounded heart back to life. Yet he was not a man particularly skilled at emotional expression, nor could he easily cross that boundary, especially during her moments of despair and loss. He could only remain by her side as a good friend, offering scraps of solace so she would not feel as though she were trudging forward through life all alone and struggling.

When she was rowing upstream against the current, he would stay right by her side, quietly pushing her forward.

Dangerous Chief Executive: Woman, You Are Arrested 138 - Read Free Full Edition of Dangerous Chief Executive: Woman, You Are Arrested - Chapter 138: I Am Willing... to Go to Hell... Update Completed!