The sun came out, yet couldn’t alleviate the mountain’s chill.

Jiang Wenjuan said sorry, but she loved her current husband and family more. Pei Haobin had also said sorry, but he feared Pei Jiadong would become a second Pei Chuan.

Because Pei Chuan had already lost both legs, did it not matter if he lost both hands too?

Did Pei Chuan deserve to be constantly abandoned from birth? Actually, Pei Chuan could understand. These cruelties had just never been laid bare. To anyone, he was never the most important person, so when choices came, he would be abandoned.

And Yaoyao, his Yaoyao.

Before 1996, like all the other children, she’d looked timidly at this Pei Chuan who didn’t fit in at kindergarten.

After that day, she began looking at him curiously, then carefully, clumsily being good to him.

Pei Chuan looked down at the yellowed paper.

That kindergarten summer, the little girl had placed lotus flowers in his arms. In elementary school, she’d gotten into her first fight for him. That high school night when even the wind carried sweet fragrance, she’d given him her first kiss. In university, she’d married him.

Enough. It was already very good.

Huo Xu had been driven so miserably by Jiang Huaqiong, and more than half was Pei Chuan’s doing. Now his heart was full of satisfaction: “How about it? Why don’t I give you a choice—just pick one. Who do you think you can compare to in her heart?”

Bei Yao looked at the quiet Pei Chuan in the surveillance, her heart already calmed.

The red dot on the mountain locator moved. Someone said quietly: “Target is in the rightmost room on the third floor, but there’s no window. Sniper, prepare.”

Pei Chuan heard the voice in his earpiece and looked up. He wouldn’t choose anyone. In this lifetime, he would never hear her answer to that question.

Pei Chuan said: “Isn’t the second choice still incomplete?”

So don’t choose. Don’t make Yaoyao choose.

Huo Xu raised his eyebrows in surprise. The second choice was: sever Pei Chuan’s hand, or Pei Jiadong’s legs.

Bei Yao’s eyes widened, then she struggled regardless of everything. No! No!

Huo Xu found it incredible. Afraid of hearing the answer, Pei Chuan would actually use this method to refuse the third choice.

Pei Chuan’s gaze fell on the blinking surveillance camera: “Give me a knife. You do it, or I will.”

For the first time, Huo Xu felt this man was a madman.

Huo Xu frowned and glanced at Bei Yao. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, her face already covered in tears.

Huo Xu suddenly felt uncomfortable. Choosing self-mutilation just from fearing an answer—if this man wasn’t crazy, then he loved a woman to death.

Huo Xu had originally wanted to drive them apart. He still planned to take Bei Yao abroad. It would be best if Bei Yao could let go of Pei Chuan.

He couldn’t quite accept that someone loved Bei Yao more than he did. He turned off the monitor, suddenly especially hating Pei Chuan’s choice.

Fine. Not afraid? Then he’d grant his wish.

Huo Xu opened his case. Inside were neatly arranged knives and several whips.

When Shao Yue saw these things, she couldn’t control her trembling.

Huo Xu selected a boning knife, touched the pistol at his waist, and left the room.

He’d just touched the door handle when someone knocked him aside.

Bei Yao used all her strength. Action and reaction made both of them lose their footing. The knife fell far away.

Bei Yao fell heavily to the ground. Huo Xu was furious: “Don’t you want your life?”

He was holding a knife, yet Bei Yao still dared to charge at him!

Bei Yao couldn’t speak, but Huo Xu saw it—her whole body was trembling.

Angry, heartbroken, desperate eyes, as if ready to fight him to the death.

Huo Xu couldn’t describe the feeling in his heart. If what was written on that paper was true, had she once looked at him properly too?

And now, she’d truly fallen for a cripple!

Huo Xu pulled Bei Yao up from the ground. Jealousy made his teeth grind audibly.

He said: “After I deal with him, I’ll take you abroad. It’s fine. We’ll cultivate feelings properly later.”

Huo Xu took out handcuffs, locked her wrists to the bedpost, then pulled open the door and walked out of the third-floor room.

The mountains were quiet. Because the room had no windows, sunlight couldn’t penetrate inside.

Bei Yao looked at the surveillance screen, but the screen had already gone dark.

He believed in her love, yet underestimated his own position.

Her cheeks buried in her knees—why, why wouldn’t he listen to her choice?

Pei Chuan wasn’t the one who deserved to be forever abandoned.

*

Huo Xu threw the boning knife in front of Pei Chuan. Mountain wind blew through the window. Pei Chuan’s feet were covered in mud from climbing up the mountain.

Huo Xu said: “I’ve heard ten fingers connect to the heart. Let’s start with the right thumb. This knife isn’t sharp—you’ll need to be quite ruthless with yourself.”

A faint voice came through the earpiece: “Target is standing in a concealed position. Very difficult to aim.”

Afraid Pei Chuan was being deceitful, Huo Xu had brought quite a few people, each equipped with guns.

The Huo family’s wealth had ultimately become his life-saving talisman.

Pei Chuan picked up the knife.

Some things weren’t actually unfamiliar to him. He’d thought he’d long forgotten his memories from age four, but actually he hadn’t. He’d been precocious. That bone-deep pain and humiliation felt like yesterday.

When blade met hand, Pei Chuan was very calm.

Yet after one strike, he still couldn’t suppress a muffled groan.

Bone and flesh together—that section of thumb fell to the ground.

Pei Chuan bit down hard. Unable to withstand that piercing agony, he collapsed to the ground. His entire body trembled with pain, yet he wouldn’t make more sounds. Only his breathing was excessively rapid.

The air spread with the scent of blood. Huo Xu once again congratulated himself on turning off the monitor. Pei Chuan was a madman.

This cripple would do anything for Bei Yao. If Bei Yao saw this scene, she probably would never forget Pei Chuan for her entire life.

Huo Xu smiled with satisfaction, glancing with disgust at the thumb on the ground: “This time, let’s do the left ring finger. That ring of yours is too glaring.”

Pei Chuan said nothing, his right hand reaching for the knife.

But he could no longer grip it. His trembling hand dropped the knife to the ground.

Pei Chuan’s pupils were pitch black. Pain made him curl up slightly.

Huo Xu walked over, sneering: “I don’t mind helping you. Places that touched her can’t remain.”

Huo Xu stepped on Pei Chuan’s fingers.

Picking up the boning knife, he aimed at Pei Chuan’s left ring finger.

In the sunlight, that ring shone brilliantly.

Pei Chuan’s face was covered in cold sweat, his pupils deep as night. He wasn’t as afraid as Huo Xu imagined, but coldly curved his lips.

Seeming to mock, seeming to ridicule, Pei Chuan raised his lips, imitating a gunshot: “Bang—”

Huo Xu’s pupils constricted.

But it was already too late. The next moment, bullets pierced through the window. Countless gunshots sounded one after another.

Huo Xu’s eyes widened. A bullet hole in his temple, he fell straight to the ground.

At death, his final gaze actually fell on that yellowed paper.

Wind lifted the pages. In the morning breeze, it was blown up and down like a light butterfly. Huo Xu wanted to reach out and grab it, but he’d already lost his breath.

The young woman’s notebook, through a page from many years ago, told of many sad past events.

For these past events he especially wanted to know, he hadn’t boarded the plane abroad, wanting to take Bei Yao with him.

Wanting to hear her speak of the previous life.

In the previous life, the version of himself who’d married Bei Yao—it must have been an extremely happy story. The more he wanted to know, the more obsessed he became. Even at death, he was most preoccupied with this matter.

First meeting at sixteen, torrential rain—Huo Xu had heard the sound of his own heart stirring.

Huo Xu’s eyes were wide open, his breath gone.

Pei Chuan supported himself with his left hand, standing up from the ground. The mountain sunlight was somewhat cold. He didn’t look at his bloody severed finger, walking to the fluttering yellowed paper and picking it up to place in his suit pocket.

Countless police rushed over from the mountain top.

An ambulance was also driving up from the mountain base. Pei Haobin walked at the front, his face covered in tears.

Someone behind patted him comfortingly. Medical personnel picked up the severed finger, looking at Pei Chuan with gazes somewhat awed and horrified.

How could a person have the resolve to sever their own finger with a boning knife?

Pei Chuan said: “My wife is upstairs. Please bring her home. Looking like this, I’ll go to the hospital first—don’t want to frighten her.”

He calmly lay on the stretcher.

Closing his eyes, the world went dark. The mountain sunlight carried a clear breeze. He was thinking about those three choices.

The first choice.

Jiang Wenjuan hadn’t chosen her husband. Her final choice was hoping her son could live. Her psychology had long been troubled in earlier years. She feared seeing Pei Chuan, yet deep inside, still hoped Pei Chuan would live. She’d rather die with her husband.

Whether becoming grass in stone crevices or wind in the forest, she hoped her only son could live.

Huo Xu had been somewhat angry at the answer. For the plan to proceed smoothly, he’d finally had Jiang Wenjuan call Pei Chuan out. He’d promised to spare Pei Chuan and her husband, saying he just wanted to leave with Bei Yao.

Jiang Wenjuan had agreed, still feeling she’d wronged her son.

After jumping in the river, she’d told everything. Actually, Jiang Wenjuan’s consciousness was no longer very clear.

She’d had psychological problems all these years.

And Pei Haobin was called by Pei Chuan.

He hadn’t chosen to call Jiang Huaqiong. The first half of his life had been spent in despicable filth, but this was the first time he’d decided to trust the country.

Wanting to live honorably and properly.

He had his own woman now. He couldn’t keep using violence to control violence and remain dirty forever.

Pei Haobin choosing Pei Jiadong was also within everyone’s plan, yet sometimes reality was quite cruel.

At the time, all of Pei Haobin’s subordinates had been secretly watching their captain. No one knew whether, without the initial plan, he would still have abandoned Pei Chuan.

Yet years later, hearing this choice again, Pei Chuan was calmer than he’d imagined.

Everyone had preferences. He just wasn’t that likable.

Only this paper in his arms was the sole accident in Pei Chuan’s plan last night.

He was loved.

It was actually its gift.

The air carried a very faint scent of blood. Pei Chuan thought—he never wanted to hear the third answer in this lifetime.

Benefactor, lover.

Devil, or becoming a scientist for her sake.

He didn’t want to think about any of it.

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Not being loved didn’t matter. Not being that important didn’t matter.

As long as she stayed by his side, would smile, would embrace him—he could overlook everything.

His blood soaked through it.

Pei Chuan asked hoarsely: “Can the severed finger be reattached?”

The doctor paused: “The time is very short. Yes, it can.”

Pei Chuan said: “Mm.”

Good that it could be reattached. Otherwise she’d cry again.