Translated, edited, and proofread by newbienoona
An Chuxia’s words makes Han Qilu’s heart tremble. He turns his head and looks at the closed window. Outside, the sky is very clear; blue, without a speck of dirt.
“So you don’t intend to plead on her behalf?” Han Qilu couldn’t help but confirm. An Chuxia is taken aback. She doesn’t know his intent but she lowers her head to ponder. She knows that perhaps, with a few words, she can save a life.
An Chuxia raises her head and looks Han Qilu in the eyes carefully and asks, “If I ask to let her off, would you?” She wants to know, if
in the end, her words carried weight in his heart.
Regardless of whether Han Qilu says it or not, both replies are good, right? Otherwise, he won’t just kill a stranger. Killer… Chuxia’s pupils suddenly constrict.
“Regardless of whether you want me to let go of that woman, my decision is… she’s dead.” Han Qilu’s smiling face reveals the demon.
-Chuxia, you died. Decide! Before her words are spoken from the heart, Han Qilu’s eyes become bloodshot. Underneath his bangs, a fine layer of sweat appears on his smooth forehead. The seemingly rebellious young master Han doesn’t seem like what he is on the surface.
Perhaps his temperament is empty, not because of his
his character, but because… he has the qualifications allowing him to be arrogant and conceited.
He is someone to be feared… Chuxia can’t imagine that if it were not because her mother saved Uncle Han, if Qilu has no scruples at this point, if it weren’t for Jiang Yuan, she couldn’t help but shudder. Her lips turn white.
“Are you cold?” Han Qilu asks softly, aware something’s wrong. This person acts like two different people. Sometimes she suspects Han Qilu has schizophrenia or split personality and the like.
She shakes her head. She goes to the bedside and takes the framed photo by the bedside cabinet. It’s her only photo of her
of her mother. That day she left, she wanted to take it, but she feared it will bring bad luck to ayi and Han bofu. These days, they get along well. She is convinced the Hans are very good and gentle people. So, she decides to take the photo.
“That… .” She raises her head cautiously to look at Qilu. He was also looking at her. Suddenly, a layer of thin sweat forms on her palm.
“What’s the matter?” He makes to look like it’s very natural for him to look at her. His features return to calmness, similar to a pool of deep water where people can’t figure what he is what he is thinking. He is actually a very thoughtful person; one can never guess what he wants to say or do.
She gently shakes the picture frame in her hand. An Chuxia whispers, “Can I take this back to the Han mansion? I want to put this in my room… .” She is worried Qilu would reject her request because he’s this kind of person… Hard to speak!
He tightens his chin; his outline appears to be wound. He raises his lips and says lightly, “Why do you have to ask?” Actually, what he wants to say is, you can.
However, conveying the words leave a taste, much to his chagrin.