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When I finally found Xie Huaishuang, his meridians were completely destroyed. He could barely see or hear. He seemed to have forgotten that he was once the high-and-mighty High Priest, and he didn’t recognize me—his most hated rival, the one who “only knew how to build scrap metal.”
Across the hazy, red-light district of wine and perfume, the man who used to refuse me even a glance in my dreams—the man who shattered my mechanical iron wings time and time again—now sat with his hair loose and robes disheveled. His hollow, lifeless gaze swept right past me.
My senior sister always said that once you start pitying a man, you’re doomed. But no matter what, I felt that while Xie Huaishuang was annoying, unreasonable, and had a swindler master who fooled the world, he truly shouldn’t have ended up like this.
So, possessed by some sudden impulse, I traced the words onto his palm, stroke by stroke: “Come with me.”
If I can nurse a withered magnolia back to life, I can raise him back into that insufferable man he used to be.
—And, taking advantage of the fact that Xie Huaishuang can’t hear, I can curse him eight hundred times a day!
Three months after being taken away by his former rival, Xie Huaishuang was troubled by two questions that kept him awake at night.
First: Is it possible—or at least, should it be possible—to fall in love with your own archnemesis? Second: Should he tell Zhu Pingsheng that his hearing has actually partially recovered?
The man says so many sweet, strange, and embarrassing things to him every single day.
