Chapter 548: The Only One Who Can Hurt Mo Tingshen is Chu Yao

Chu Yao didn’t move.

She didn’t help him either.

The corners of her mouth slowly curled into an ambiguous smile.

It faded just as quickly.

After Mo Tingshen recovered from the pain, he looked up, sweat from his forehead dripping into his eyes.

He closed his eyes to shake it off, then opened them again to look at Chu Yao.

However, his dark pupils seemed to be blurred with a layer of watery light.

The lighting and her appeared somewhat shaky.

“Is that enough?” the man’s hoarse voice asked.

Chu Yao leaned against the headboard, raised her hand, and held a length between her thumb and index finger.

She looked at it, seemingly unsure, then measured it against his chest, near the knife handle, shortening the distance slightly.

“It seems…

still not enough.”

Mo Tingshen’s gaze wavered as he stared at her hand.

After a while, “Fine.”

He pushed the knife handle with his palm, driving it further in until it reached the distance she had estimated.

“Is that enough?”

Chu Yao seriously made another measure.

“It seems to be this much.”

She looked up, blinking, “Brother, if it’s this much, will I die?”

Mo Tingshen was bent over, shoulders pressed down, one hand under his heart, covered in blood.

He swallowed the surge of blood rising in his throat and said, “I don’t know, but if you can get out of bed tomorrow, come and knock on my door.

If I can come to open it, I’m still alive.”

Chu Yao tilted her head, as if pondering, “Alright.”

Mo Tingshen endured the pain, his subdued voice still threading through feeble tones, “So do you want to sleep now?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Mo Tingshen stood up, “Can you move by yourself?”

Chu Yao: “Help me.”

“Okay.”

He bent down, using his right hand to support her back.

Half lifting, half cradling, he helped her lie down, pulled up the blanket to tuck her in, and turned off the bedside warm light.

“Sleep well, I’m next door.

Call me if you need anything.”

Chu Yao’s face rubbed against the blanket as she snuggled in, leaving only a pair of eyes looking at him.

“Thank you, brother.”

Mo Tingshen furrowed his brows and lightly acknowledged before standing up and leaving.

Chu Yao still watched the doorway; the smile hidden beneath the blanket emerged pale, and imbued with vengeful laughter.

Who said she only hated Mo Li?

She hated Mo Tingshen just the same.

…

When Xu Shu was asked to leave the hospital for the third time, he completely lost his temper.

Rushing over in a fluster and seeing Mo Tingshen seated against the bed on the carpet with a fruit knife stuck in his heart, yet still smoking calmly, Xu Shu flew into a rage.

He swore, “Why the hell call me if you want to die?

Just die, why bother calling me over, to collect your corpse?!”

Mo Tingshen’s hand trembled, dropping a section of cigarette ash.

He tugged at the corners of his lips and smiled, “Rare to see you lose your temper.”

Xu Shu crouched in front of him, hands resting on his knees, staring at him.

“I’ll watch the time for you or, if you prefer, pick a lucky moment to die.

Just give me a heads up, I’ll show you how to plunge the knife into your heart properly.”

Mo Tingshen moistened his cracked lips, “So heartless?”

Xu Shu frowned, his face showing impatience.

“Can’t die yet.

If I die, who will protect her?

Treat me,” Mo Tingshen said as he lifted his hand to snuff out the cigarette into the ashtray.

Xu Shu knew what kind of person Mo Tingshen was.

Let alone injuries, his delicate body never bore a single knife scar; he had always been the one tormenting others.

When had he ever ended up in such a wretched state?

Apart from Chu Yao, there was no second person in the world who could have achieved this.