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墨書 Inktalez
In the moment before he fell, Yang Qinghe seemed to see a familiar figure, bloodied and fighting fiercely against the enemy. He was valiant and swift, breaking through the encirclement and charging towards him.
Wang Zhao had not finished speaking when he felt his strength gradually fading, and his consciousness becoming increasingly blurred. Wang Zhaoran rushed to Yang Qinghe's side and lifted him onto his back. Just as he was about to turn and leave, a deafening explosion erupted nearby.
The shockwave from the blast knocked them over, but Wang Zhaoran tightly protected Yang Qinghe, using his own body to shield him from the flying debris.
With a cough, blood spurted from Wang Zhaoran's mouth. Ignoring his own safety, he struggled to lift Yang Qinghe onto his back once more. This was the mission Yu Suihuan had entrusted to him; even if it meant death, he had to bring Yang Qinghe back!
"Yang Qinghe, don’t you dare die! If you do, I’ll never forgive you!" Wang Zhaoran gritted his teeth and pressed on through the hail of bullets.
Yu Suihuan was frantic; if she weren’t carrying Yang Qinghe’s child, she would have rushed into battle herself to save him. As dusk fell and despair set in, she spotted a dark figure slowly moving towards her.
Without a second thought, she dashed toward the shadow. "Wang Zhaoran! Yang Qinghe!"
As she got closer, she realized that the reason the shadow moved so slowly was that it was Wang Zhaoran crawling on the ground with Yang Qinghe on his back. His hands were a bloody mess, flesh torn away to reveal bone.
Yu Suihuan hurried forward, trying to help him up.
Wang Zhaoran's voice was weak, almost inaudible. She reached out to check Yang Qinghe's breath and found that he was merely unconscious. She carefully lifted him off Wang Zhaoran's back.
She intended to make it easier for Wang Zhaoran, but unexpectedly, he coughed up another mouthful of blood.
"Wang Zhao Ran! Don't be afraid, I'll take you right now!" Yu Suihuan's voice trembled, tears blurring her vision.
Looking at Wang Zhaoran's bloodied and battered state, she didn't dare to move him, fearing that she might cause him further harm.
"Wang Zhaoran!"
He clutched Yu Suihuan's sleeve tightly, as if he had something to say.
Yu Suihuan lifted his upper body into her arms, leaning her ear close to his lips.
"Yu Suihuan, the mission you entrusted to me... I completed it!"
"I know, I know!"
She held Wang Zhaoran tightly, crying heart-wrenchingly.
"Yu Suihuan, I... I can’t protect you anymore."
Wang Zhaoran's voice grew weaker.
"But I... I brought Yang Qinghe back for you. I didn't go back on my word!"
"Wang Zhao Ran, don't say that! I'll find you a doctor!"
Yu Suihuan felt as if her heart were being cut into pieces, tears streaming down her face.
"No, I need to say this. I'm afraid there won't be another chance."
Wang Zhaoran took a heavy breath, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.
"Do you know? I've always liked you since the first time I saw you."
Wang Zhaoran strained with all his might to pull at his collar. There was a button on his chest.
And Yu Suihuan remembered that this button was the one that had fallen from her shirt.
"Wang Zhao Ran, you—"
"Yu Suihuan, don't cry. It hurts me. Promise me... to live well."
Wang Zhaoran's voice grew fainter; he struggled to open his mouth several times but couldn't make a sound.
"I love—"
Wang Zhaoran's voice abruptly stopped, and his hand slipped weakly away.
The button rolled off from the collar and fell to the ground. Yu Suihuan's eyes were filled with tears, which dripped onto Wang Zhaoran's face, mingling with his own tears.
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