She was in the hospital the next time she woke.

 She did not know how long she had been unconscious. She could taste the bitterness of the disinfectant with every breath she took and coughed lightly before she opened her eyes to weakly stare overhead.

There was a drip above her, the transparent liquid sliding unhurriedly along the length of the plastic. She slowly moved her gaze downward and saw a long, slender, and fair finger.

 Fu Tingyuan was sitting on a sofa comfortably peeling an apple with a fruit knife in his hand. The afternoon light happened to fall on his white shirt, and the contrasting profile of his face looked delicate and handsome, as though he were a god.

 Luo Nanchu narrowed her eyes. The more she stared, the more she was convinced that the knife Fu Tingyuan was using to peel fruit was the one she had tried to kill herself with.

 “How can an angel from heaven have such a face?” she complained.

 “Luo Nanchu, logically, you should be in hell,” he replied mildly as he continued paring the apple.

 Luo Nanchu closed her eyes, thinking to herself that she really wanted to see whether she would still encounter his face if she did go to hell.

 Moreover, she was already in a living hell from which she could not reincarnate.

 She had not died. She was still alive. Also, she could feel the gates to the eighteen levels of hell slowly opening for her and that Fu Tingyuan was going to be the executioner who would be torturing her.

 As matters stood, she had no way of resisting anything.

 “How long was I out for?” she asked.

 “Three days.”

The man placed the peeled apple on the coffee table beside him and started to play with the fruit knife in his hand. He narrowed his eyes and smiled faintly, but suddenly leaned toward her.

In a light, mocking tone, he said, “If you really wanted to die, Luo Nanchu, you should have stabbed the knife through here.”

 He lifted his long and slender hand and pressed the knife against her heart.

His voice became gentler as he said, “If you had died, I would actually seriously consider whether I should let the Luo family go.”

Although he said this, the sarcasm in his voice deepened, and he even sounded a little angry.

 It seemed as though her attempt at suicide had caught Fu Tingyuan slightly off guard.

 Luo Nanchu smiled and asked, “So Mr. Fu thinks that Nanchu is trying to injure herself to gain your confidence?”

 In the next second, she reached out and grabbed at the blade of the knife, instantly snatching the knife that Fu Tingyuan had only held lightly. Her movements were as fluid as lightning as the knife flashed and sped toward her heart!

 Right before it was about to stab into her chest, the knife was recaptured by the Fu Tingyuan’s hands.

 “Luo Nanchu!” Fu Tingyuan sounded furious as he gripped the handle of the knife.

 If he had not caught the handle in time, the knife would have stabbed through to Luo Nanchu’s heart.

 Fu Tingyuan’s gaze turned chilly as he stared at her smiling face. A mysterious look clouded his eyes.

 The sharp knife only hung a single millimeter above Luo Nanchu’s heart. Luo Nanchu looked up and fixed her eyes directly on Fu Tingyuan.

In a soft voice that had a hint of laughter, she said, “Mr. Fu is right. Nanchu was not thorough in her planning the previous time.”

Holding the blade, she pushed it down slowly and continued, “Mr. Fu’s desires will definitely be fulfilled this time, and Nanchu only wishes that Mr. Fu will keep his promise and let Nanchu’s family go.”

 She was well aware of how much he hated her. She was the one who had started their ill-fated relationship, so nothing could be better than for her to end it herself.

 Fu Tingyuan narrowed his eyes a little as he observed the smile on Luo Nanchu’s face. Their gazes were fixed on each other’s. His soft, gentle look was already fading slowly, leaving only an icy countenance. One’s true self was not represented by how they carried themselves on the outside, but by the face they did not reveal to the world.

 And the Fu Tingyuan right now was finally the real Fu Tingyuan.