She seemed to be dead, her body as light as if she were stepping on soft clouds. Had she transformed into a snowflake in the sky? If she were a snowflake, she would want to ride the wind back to the homeland that nurtured her. But she still had clear consciousness; she was clearly not dead. Pain radiated from her wrist. She was revived once more. She should be harsher on herself, directly severing the artery in her neck with the glass, because as long as there was a breath left, she would be saved… He tormented her repeatedly, but always left her with a breath. As long as there was a breath, she would be saved. This was hell, an endless cycle of torment…
“Is she awake?”
“Not yet, General, but she has passed the critical period.”
“Understood.”
Khanyi lay in bed, clearly hearing his conversation with the doctor, but she lacked the courage to open her eyes. She could distinctly hear him pacing into the ward, and her brows slightly furrowed.
He did not turn on the light, watching her in the darkness. She lay quietly on the bed, and he could not see her cracked, colorless lips, nor her tightly furrowed brows and trembling eyelashes. He could only see her frail body deeply sunk into the white bedding, with blood bags and IV drips hanging from her arms, instruments and tubes inserted into her. She was very weak, and the ward was so quiet that not even a whisper of her breath could be heard.
After a long time, he finally spoke to himself, his tone filled with an arrogant disdain, “Foolish woman, do you think that suicide can end everything?” It was as if he was performing a self-written play, “Let me tell you, this will not end, it will never end.”
The warm, constant temperature of the room suddenly made him feel a tightness in his chest. He quickly walked to the window and forcefully pushed it open. The freezing air rushed in through the wide-open window, and the snowflakes fell poetically and gently. He extended his palm to catch a snowflake, which instantly melted in the warmth of his hand.
His ice-blue eyes gazed at the droplet of crystal-clear water in his palm, like a tear, sliding down the lines of his hand. His voice became low and hoarse, “What is an end? If there is no beginning, there will never be an end… Actually, sometimes, you are quite pitiful, really. You are so weak, trembling under the whip, anyone who sees it would feel pity…”
Suddenly, he turned around, glaring at her from a few meters away, an invisible flame burning in his ice-blue eyes. “But you are not worthy of sympathy because all of this is your own doing. You should not look at me with your dark eyes; when I look at you, you should not avoid my gaze; you should not, when you are not looking at me, still tempt me…”
As he spoke, his anger escalated, turning into a somewhat hoarse growl, “So all of this is your fault; you brought it upon yourself. You shameless whore, filthy yellow-skinned woman! You are a snake; your gaze is your venom! You indiscriminately spray your poison at me!”
Khanyi kept her eyes tightly shut, listening to his shouts and the sound of glass shattering on the floor. “You foolish woman! Vicious snake! You attempt to corrupt me! You dream of controlling me! You should never have provoked me! You will pay for your despicable actions!”
Tiny shards of glass splattered onto her cheek, and from a distance, she could hear his heavy breathing. “Yes, from beginning to end, you have not smiled at me, but you have made me understand what intoxication and doubt, shudder and fear, anticipation and shyness, restlessness and loneliness are… What is its essence? Is it two lonely hearts comforting each other? Is it the romance and elegance of flowers under the moonlight? Is it the restraint of a spiritual feast? Or is it the infinite radiation of human instinct? … Let those filthy bastards’ absurd theories go to hell!”
His tone gradually lowered, as if the most tender low notes of a cello were playing, “You will never know, you will never know, it is an uncontrollable desire, its heat surpasses millions of flames. Perhaps living means having such a moment, the helplessness of not getting what you want, the daily concern, the pain of impending loss. Is all of this not wonderful? It is filled with suffering and madness! Everything exceeds reason, everything has no logic to follow…”
