"Helian, asked to go out for a walk."
He responded to the old man with these words, but his step didn’t falter, as he took the car keys and rushed out, even forgetting to change out of his slippers.
"Even if she fell and got up by herself, unscathed, there should still be so traces, right?"
Arriving at the Mingyue Hotel, Ji Chicheng got out of the car and strode through the revolving door. Seeing several security guards huddled together discussing sothing, he approached, stretching his hand out to grasp one of them to ask about the situation.
Hearing their discussion, his brows furrowed and, after half a second of thought, he turned and went back out.
To the right, several security guards stood looking up. Ji Chicheng also glanced upwards, a sharp gleam flashing in his eyes.
...
Ji Anning bit her lip, sweat pouring down her body. The pain in her feet was almost enough to make her faint.
She couldn’t move an inch.
If this continued, was she going to die here from the pain?
Should she just fall down and end it? Since living this way was so pathetic, Ji Anning thought, as she glanced below. She considered letting go, yet her gaze remained involuntarily cautious and careful.
After a single glance, she imdiately averted her eyes, mockingly shaking her head at herself. Without the courage to die, it really was better to cling to life shalessly.
As she maintained her position, her entire lower body had gone numb, and she wanted to shift her posture.
"Ji Anning!"
Ji Anning was startled!
That voice...
Was it her illusion? Was she going to die? Hence the hallucinations...
"Ji Chicheng, I hate you so much."
Why, over these years, have you lingered in my heart, impossible to erase or wash away, like fine wine that grows richer and more potent with ti?
No matter how terrible or excessive he was... she just couldn’t forget him, couldn’t forget!
"With you being so cowardly, what do you have to hate for?"
This... Ji Anning’s expression froze. She turned her head, stunned as she looked toward the source of the voice. The man was leaning on the windowsill, backlit, the sharp contours of his handso face standing out even more.
His hands were reaching out to her.
"Give your hand."
Ji Chicheng reached out further, his voice deep, suppressing his anxiety.
’An’an, give your hand...’
’Hold on tight, don’t let go.’
Three years ago during that fire, in her monts of desperation and helplessness, just like now, a pair of hands reached out to her, pulling her from despair.
Then, it was Jingfeng. But this ti, it was the very sa Ji Chicheng who had always looked down on her.
Yet, different people gave her the sa feeling. In that instant just now, her heart flickered with a sense of familiarity so intense that it excited her.
Perhaps it was because of hope. The people who appeared both tis, whether the sa person or not, gave her hope, the hope to live, like a glimr of dawn suddenly appearing in the darkness.
Ji Anning looked at Ji Chicheng, into his eyes, the beads of sweat shining on his forehead. Her gaze was sowhat infatuated.
"I know, you’re waiting for the dia to co and film you, to capitalize on this ergency."
Ji Chicheng suddenly withdrew his hand, his eyes cold as he looked at Ji Anning.
In Ji Anning’s eyes, he looked as if he was about to turn around and leave her behind. Panicking, she pleaded, "Uncle, don’t, I don’t want the attention."
If she wanted attention, she wouldn’t have been enduring the pain and hiding up until now.
Her eyes nervously fixed on Ji Chicheng, her gaze flickering with fear and apprehension.
Ji Chicheng glanced at her dismissively, the corners of his mouth lifting into an almost imperceptible, indulgent smile.
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