This is the sound of my heartbeat.
Did you hear it?
His voice was soft and shallow, his eyes earnest, and if one were to only hear his voice, they would certainly think Young Master Jue was tenderly whispering sweet nothings.
Yet, what Mo Nanjue was actually discussing was how to accurately thrust a dagger into his own heart.
When he said these words to the woman he deeply loved, it naturally hurt him.
Tong Ran's small hand was tightly enveloped by his ten fingers, forced to grip the dagger with its tip lightly resting against his chest. Through the dagger, she could still feel the thrum of his heartbeat.
Beat after beat, strong and quick, it was enough to make the palm of her hand go numb.
"Tong Ran, this is your last chance," Mo Nanjue maintained his posture, the slap mark still visible on his handsome face, "if you don't kill me today, don't blame me for not giving you freedom for the rest of your life."
