Xia Weiyi pursed her lips and ran onto the stage. Seeing Ye Che about to pull the trigger, she hurriedly reached out to grab his arm and softly called out, "Ye Che..."
At this moment, Ye Che's mind was overwhelmed with the image of fresh blood on Xia Weiyi's thigh, the scene of her chasing him out of the hospital, and the sound of her sobbing as she curled up at the doorstep of his hospital room. The pain in his heart could only be soothed by Xu Ziqing's blood.
But just as he was about to shoot her, he felt his movement being intercepted, and he instinctively wanted to curse. The next second, he heard Xia Weiyi's voice.
Ye Che paused for a second, and then managed to slightly calm the fury in his heart, turning to look at the young girl beside him.
Her delicate little hand held his arm, her pale lips tightly pursed, her eyes slightly vacant with a hint of panic, shrouded in a thin mist.
That sight melted the last hardness in Ye Che's heart.
