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Summary
"Ying Zhao, do it now. KILL ME!"
.
.
.'Ah, so this is hell?'
Zhao Yuan Zhou closes his eyes as a downpour of crimson icicles slams into his face, painting his silver hair wine-red.The pain, strangely welcome, fades faster than he had expected.
'Surely, death cannot be so kind?'The anguished howl that escapes his blood-coated lips is far too late as he realises that it is not death, but life that licks his wounds closed.
The blood that dispels the malevolence is not his.
It's Zhuo Yichen's.
Bookmarked by Shyyay
09 Feb 2026

