Beg Me to Remarry
Chapter 401: Terrifying Nightmare

Chapter 401: Chapter 401: Terrifying Nightmare

But just at that moment, He Xing, who was on the ground, suddenly opened his eyes. His lips parted and moved, still emitting that mechanical voice, "Fu Han, didn’t you say that no matter what I became, you would still like me?"

"Yes, I like you." Fu Han’s heart suddenly settled inexplicably. She slowly squatted down in front of He Xing, her hand caressing his cheek, "But He Xing, why have you become like this?"

A smile that looked as difficult as ice appeared on He Xing’s frozen face, a smile resembling that of a robot’s, "Fu Han, I became like this for you. I said I would see you onto the airplane, but I was accidentally killed in an accident, so I can only come to see you like this. You’re not angry with me, are you?"

It felt as if something had struck Fu Han’s heart hard; large tears fell from the corners of her eyes. She could no longer care about anything else, and embraced He Xing tightly, her cheek against his forehead, "He Xing, I like you. Rest assured, I’m coming to find you now."

As the words fell, she was struck by a severe pain. Fu Han felt an excruciating ache in her neck. She glanced down slightly to see He Xing’s mouth clamped onto her neck, and could vaguely make out two huge fangs, like those of a beast.

As she looked down, a sinister smile spread across He Xing’s face. He laughed while sucking the fresh blood from Fu Han’s throat, "Fu Han, you said you’d join me, so let’s trade your life for mine."

Fu Han clutched her heart, clearly feeling something rapidly draining from her body. Looking at the blood at the corner of He Xing’s mouth, she understood that it was her blood, her life force, that was fading away.

Indeed, as her body became stiffer and stiffer, He Xing’s pale complexion grew more and more rosy, even his dark eyes began to shine captivatingly. The He Xing before her eyes was becoming more and more like the He Xing in her memory.

Finally, when Fu Han could no longer feel the pain in her heart, He Xing discarded her onto the ground like trash. He slowly straightened up, looking down at Fu Han from a superior position, a cruel smile at the corner of his mouth, "Fu Han, did you really think I would die for you? Who do you think you are? You’re nothing but an object, and moreover, the kind that’s nice to look at but can’t be used. What do I need you for?"

Fu Han hadn’t cried until now, not even when He Xing threw her aside, but now she felt unbearable pain. She wanted to cry, but her body was dried out, unable to shed tears.

She tried to open her mouth with difficulty but could only emit a harsh, crow-like sound, "He Xing, why? Why do you treat me this way?"

"Why?" At that moment, He Xing was taking a handkerchief out of his suit pocket. He scoffed at the question, "Your parents saved my grandfather, and he forced me to repay the favor. You tell me why?"

It was like a knife had been plunged into Fu Han’s heart. She stared at He Xing in shock, feeling as if she had fallen into an icy pit, "But... you said you liked me. You said you’ve liked me for many years."

"I lied to you, don’t you understand?" He Xing scoffed disdainfully and sneered, "My grandfather told me I wouldn’t be allowed to inherit the He Group unless I married you. How ridiculous, for the young master of the He Group to have to cajole you, the daughter of a servant."

After saying this, He Xing threw the handkerchief in front of Fu Han. The stark crimson bloodstain on it was evident, like the vermilion spot between the eyebrows, or like the blood in one’s heart, a memory that can never be forgotten even in midnight dreams.

A pair of black, glossy leather shoes appeared in front of Fu Han, stepping directly onto the bloodstain, as if stepping directly on her heart.

She struggled to push He Xing’s foot away but sadly discovered that her hands were so stiff moving them was a challenge.

Fu Han exerted herself to turn her head to get a clear view of He Xing’s face, but the dense fog surrounding them, like an invisible barrier, shrouded He Xing’s face completely. She wanted to see but couldn’t make it out clearly; she could only see the mockery in the smile at the corner of He Xing’s mouth.

Watching He Xing’s footsteps grow farther and farther away, Fu Han strenuously extended her hand, but He Xing left behind a cold laugh before turning to leave.

Within the pervading fog, He Xing’s figure receded farther and farther until finally, it vanished into the mist. However, until he disappeared, he never looked back, as if there was never a Fu Han behind him.

Fu Han’s face laid against the icy cold stone ground, and she felt her face freeze. She wanted to get up, but the tears in her eyes had glued her face to the stony road. She had no strength left, making even getting up difficult.

Her aching heart felt as if it was being stirred by a blunt knife, refusing to grant her a swift end.

Truthfully, Fu Han didn’t find the loss of her blood to He Xing as painful; conversely, the words he spoke brought her even greater pain.

After all, their relationship had always been one where she was the one putting in the effort, while He Xing remained indifferent and distant.

Isn’t that why she left He Xing four years ago? Even as his fiancée, she never felt a shred of his love.

Now that He Xing had spelled it all out for her, Fu Han felt exceptionally tormented, the feeling indescribable; it was like a nightmare of many years had come true, her worst fears realized.

To refute He Xing’s words? Of course, she wanted to, but with what and how could she argue back?

"Fu Han, wake up, Fu Han, wake up?"

Whose voice was that calling out to Fu Han, sounding so familiar yet so strange?

Fu Han looked around dazedly; her vision was filled with a haze, revealing nothing, while the street lamps along the road lit up, though there wasn’t a soul in sight.

She felt tired and wanted to sleep. She realized, groggily, that she hadn’t slept for a long time.

But just as she was about to close her eyes, that previous voice rang out again, "Fu Han, stop crying, wake up; open your eyes and look!"

"Who’s crying?" Fu Han was irritated. Her tears had frozen long ago; even if she wanted to, she couldn’t cry.

A nameless rage erupted. She swung her arms vigorously, but her arm was seized by a warm palm, burning like a brand.

Fu Han imagined she could hear the sizzling of her flesh being grilled on a stove, the stench of burning skin spreading, making her nauseous and wanting to vomit. But her stomach was empty; she wanted to vomit but couldn’t, an intolerable feeling indeed.

Her fury intensified, and she opened her eyes wide to see who had grabbed her hand, really too annoying.