Even until Death, the Scum Gong thought I was a White Lotus

74

Chapter 74

It was as if his whole body had fallen to ashes, like a withered flower, no longer having any colors.

Xie Mu only felt that something seemed to be stuck in his throat, making him unable to make even half a sound. 

He had a lot of things he wanted to ask, he wanted to say to the man in front of him, but in the end, a thousand words were reduced to two sentences.

“From the very start you used me as his stand-in.”

“Right?”

He seemed to be about to cry, and his eyes were red as if he had already cried. His beautiful eyes which were usually full of admiration and innocence were full of water, yet he was stubborn and refused to show any vulnerability. 

Wen Mingquan’s heart beat a little faster.

It was as if he regretted it, regretted what he had done.

But he has no way back.

In the end, he gave the same answer as before.

“Yes.”

He said yes…

Xie Mu was stunned and took a step back.

The look on his face was as if he was dead. 

But now, he wished he was really dead.

Even the pain of death is better than listening to your beloved admit that he saw you as a toy, as an object to keep to imitate others.

The pain of digging your heart out is just that…

The tears that kept swirling in those eyes eventually fell. 

It was a beautiful scene of a boy crying, and tears slipped down his fair cheeks and fell to the ground like raindrops.

He kept staring at the man, even though his eyes were red, and his hands were shaking.

Xie Mu’s self seemed to have aged a lot in an instant, and his voice was no longer as clear as before.

He said to himself, “Did you save me because of this face?” 

“You help me, take me with you, teach me how to deal with all kinds of things, also because I look like him?”

“Even with me, in your head, it’s him who you think of.”

The guilt in Wen Mingquan’s eyes grew, “Xiaomu, I know it’s me who has wronged you.

“You’re not sorry for me…” 

The young man replied in a shocked voice, his eyes were empty, and he slowly stretched out his hand.

Xie Mu looked at his hands, slender and white.

The man in front of him once held his hand and said, such a hand, should play the piano.

He didn’t like to play the piano, and he could never remember the tunes and how to move the keys on the piano with these praised and beautiful hands. 

He also doesn’t like to wear white, he likes red, and the more colorful the more he likes it.

But he still wore white clothes and learned the piano.

For him.

Those hands, trembling, fell on his faces. 

We’re sorry for MTLers or people who like using reading mode, but our translations keep getting stolen by aggregators so we’re going to bring back the copy protection. If you need to MTL please retype the gibberish parts.