Chapter 5: The Smashing of the Cinerary Urn (1/2)

Translator: DragonRider

All of a sudden, there was a fleeting chill in the middle of his forehead, the hideous face of Qiao Peiyu showing a sharp contrast with scattered pieces of the white porcelain urn. He Zheng stared at the grayish powder all over the cabin, tears flowing down his cheeks uncontrollably. To the unrestrained laugh of Qiao Peiyu, his whole body involuntarily trembling, he knelt down onto the floorboard and tried to gather the cremains with his hands. Abruptly, some kind of voice was heard.

”Little Zheng, mom's in great pain.” A tearful female voice echoed in his ears.

He Zheng's eyes fell hot with grief, drops of tears racing each other down to the floorboard.

”Do you hate her?”

From the depths of his mind came a deep, sepulchral voice. Eyes widened to the extreme with fury, He Zheng clenched his teeth until his cheeks ached distinctly.

The laughter of Qiao Peiyu and the pained voice of his mother kept reverberating in He Zheng's ears.

'That woman...That woman had never contended for anything in her whole life. Now even her cinerary urn was smashed to pieces,' he bitterly thought.

”I hate her,” He Zheng uttered three words through gritted teeth. He was consumed with bitterness, grief and profound hatred, which made his countenance ruthless and ferocious.

”Do you want to kill her?”

”Yes!” He Zheng jerked his head up to glare at Qiao Peiyu with crimson eyes, lunged at her and grabbed her around the neck. Caught off guard, Qiao Peiyu failed to dodge in time and started struggling violently.

”Uh...Uh... Let me go.” As if not having expected he would react this way, ‘the one being strangled gripped his hands. Overwhelmed by rage and despair, He Zheng kept squeezing the throat of ”Qiao Peiyu” harder and harder. A ghost of an eerie smile appeared on He Zheng's face as he watched her increasingly paler face, which he himself was unaware of.

”Die. Die.” He Zheng mumbled while exerting greater force.

”Le–Let go of...” Faint cries for help emanated from beneath his hands.

Eyes blood-red, He Zheng glowered fixedly at ‘her’ while pressing on her throat harder and harder, as if he hadn't heard her voice at all. A wave of morbid pleasure swept over him as he watched ”Qiao Peiyu” struggling desperately, a happy smile on his face.