"I understand. So, do you hate him?" Di Fuyi looked at her fixedly as he asked.
Lan Waihu went pale at the question, unsure of what to say. She closed her eyes and confessed, "I am not sure, but I never wanted him to die."
She looked at her hand and saw the knife that was stained with his blood. Irritated, she wanted to throw the knife away, but it seemed to be attached to her palm. She tried to fling it away, but the knife still stayed in her hand regardless of her efforts. Instead, the action of trying to get rid of the knife seemed to inflict pain on her palm. Shocked, she tried to fling the knife away again but failed. It felt as if her bones were breaking part with every move.