A second chance with my billionaire husband

Yan Song’s thin lips slightly pursed, his gaze tightly fixated on Yun Ya’s face.

"You poor soul, my dear Yun Ya, how much suffering have you endured?" Zhang Huasheng lifted his arm to take a glance at the knife wound, sighed deeply, and looked at the young girl’s exceptionally pale face. "You still refuse to let yourself go..."

Smart people tend to make one mistake, thinking too clearly, thinking too much, it’s easy to get stuck in a dead end; others’ advice is useless, you must learn from bloody lessons to remember.

Zhang Huasheng swiftly stopped the bleeding and bandaged her wound, taking a moment to glance at the man standing behind her. This glance startled him, as the man’s face was even paler than Yun Ya’s, his brows furrowed, forehead drenched in cold sweat, thin lips tightly shut, seemingly enduring immense pain.

His tall body also seemed like it might collapse at any moment.

"What’s wrong?" Zhang Huasheng exclaimed in surprise, hurriedly reaching to grab his wrist to take his pulse, frowning deeply. "I can’t find your pulse...."

Yan Song shook off his hand, stepped towards the bathroom, his steps unsteady and slightly staggered. "I’m fine...."

"Bang" The bathroom door slammed shut before his eyes.

Zhang Huasheng sighed, "Both of you are such stubborn people."

As soon as the door closed, Yan Song tilted his body, quickly supporting himself against the washstand so as not to fall onto the floor, his fingers gripping tightly to the edge of the washstand, cold sweat pouring down his forehead.

An ominous voice echoed in his mind: "Your body has expended too much energy, the Cultivation Levels are still inadequate, you’re courting death by using the Conversion Spell—after a few fights, I’m amazed you’ve held on this long, but next, your body will go through a period of dormancy, during which it will be very fragile..."

"Shut up." Yan Song coldly commanded.

"Tch...." The voice seemed very disdainful, yet fell silent.

Yan Song took a deep breath, his back against the door, slowly sitting on the floor, through the recurring pain cycling like a skin-flaying torment.

The bathroom door was gently knocked, Zhang Huasheng’s worried voice sounding from outside: "Are you alright?"

"I’m alright."

After a long pause, a deep voice emerged from inside, seemingly suppressing agony, slightly dry and pale.

Zhang Huasheng sighed, looking at the person lying on the big bed—one willing to hit, one willing to take it...

Zhang Huasheng boiled the medicine, spoon by spoon feeding Yun Ya, but she vomited it all out, wiping her mouth with a handkerchief, Zhang Huasheng sighed: "Yun Ya, be good, drink the medicine obediently."

How could a person in a coma hear his words? Zhang Huasheng sighed again; the sighs of his life were used up in these few days.

Suddenly, he heard movement from the bathroom, his eyeballs shifted, placing the medicine bowl on the bedside table, rising to leave.

After Zhang Huasheng left, the bathroom door opened from inside, Yan Song slowly emerged.

His face was pale, his steps unsteady, the short distance seeming to use all his strength. He walked to the bedside, laid down sideways, bringing Yun Ya into his embrace, holding her tightly against his chest, her face pressed closely to his.

His fingers traced the bandaged wound on her arm, his gaze filled with deep sorrow.

"Yun Ya, what am I supposed to do with you?"

The young girl’s eyes partially closed, pale and serene, yet her brows slightly furrowed as if even in dreams she was unsettled.

Yan Song lowered his head and kissed her brow.

His gaze fell on the medicine bowl on the bedside; he pondered for a moment, then brought it over, tipped it back to take a gulp, pinched Yun Ya’s mouth with two fingers, suddenly leaned down, lips touching as he administered the medicine orally.

Yun Ya suddenly struggled for a moment, Yan Song held her body tightly, his tongue probing deeper, Yun Ya murmured a sound, ultimately sinking down.

Yan Song slowly left her lips, at least she hadn’t spat the medicine out.

Following suit, Yan Song finally managed to get a bowl of medicine into her stomach.

He raised his sleeve, wiped the medicine residue from her lips, Yan Song sighed and held her tightly in his embrace, closing his eyes.

That scene, he would never forget in his lifetime.

The young girl flew towards him like a kite with a broken string, covered in blood, filled with despair and shattering.

Yan Song closed his eyes, the forceful intensity wanting to meld her into his bones and blood, causing the unconscious girl to uneasily furrow her brows, Yan Song’s cheek pressed against her face, he smiled: "From now on, we will never be apart."

Fingers intertwined, hearts pressed close, henceforth no one could separate us, not even death.

——

"The sin of matricide defies heavenly law; a child born of sin can never hope for happiness in this life, Hell welcomes you... my daughter, I’ve died, you’ll inherit my aspirations and live alone in this world hahahaha...."

The woman’s mad and sinister laughter echoed by her ear, as if mocking her foolishness and naïveté.

She lay in a pool of blood, a knife embedded in her chest, its handle cradled in her hand, she looked incredulously at the exceptionally calm-eyed woman before her, the bottom of those eyes flickered with deep mockery of her.

She recoiled as though shocked by electricity, retreated suddenly, plopping to the ground, the world awash with people pointing at her in contempt and disgust.

"This is the woman who killed her own mother with her own hands, it’s truly a crime; no matter how wrong her mother was, she birthed her, how could she bear to strike such a blow?"

"To kill her own mother with her hands, she’ll reap her own consequences...."

"How can there be such a venomous and deranged woman in this world? She truly shames us women, no man will ever like such a poisonous woman...."

Those voices swirled by her ear, pervasive like a maggot gnawing at her bones, tormenting her sanity, torturing her nerves, she clutched her head, the sky spinning, despairingly she screamed.

She was not wrong, she was not wrong, it was Ji Lanyi who deserved to die, it was she who deserved to die...

Even though she gave birth to her, she had long repaid her debt, between them no semblance of familial ties...

But but... but what?

The world was bleak and desolate, despair surging like tidal waves unfurling over her, she was like a drowning person struggling in the ocean, yet no life-saving straw to grasp.

Let it be...

She thought despairingly, just sink into the sea, as if she never appeared in this world at all...

Her body gradually wrapped by cold water, slowly sinking down into the kaleidoscope of shimmering water.

From past life to this life, two lifetimes’ time, she lived too strained, too tired...

She wanted sleep, this sleep long and possibly never waking, how wonderful—no scheming, no plotting, no mother-daughter strife, merely sleeping forever.

Her lips slowly curled into a gentle smile, this life, relieved at last.

Yet deep inside her heart, there seemed to be reluctance... who still tugs at her heart’s ocean...

Who speaks by her ear, voice by voice, word by word, tenderly, deeply longing, turning love to ashes...

Within nearing vision, seemingly a visage emerged upon the water’s surface, every brow, every eye so familiar, stirring her soul at its depths.

She slowly reached out to touch that face, yet it suddenly dispersed, the wind brushing over the water dissipating without trace.

A ray of sunlight broke through the water, illuminating her world.

That sunshine dispelled the darkness and cold, bathed upon her heart.

As if an invisible hand gently pulled her from below the water’s surface, upon breaking through the water she gasped for air in gulps.

Yun Ya stared blankly at the unfamiliar room before her, the sensation of death still vividly clear.

In the moment she was dazed, an arm wrapped around her waist, warmth swept over, her cold stiffened body fell into a solid embrace, her back a bit sore from the pressure.

A long sigh wafted by her ear, echoing with relief and some sorrow.

"You’re finally awake."

Yun Ya’s nose suddenly felt a bit sore.

The cold despair in the dream vivid in memory, the warmth like spring before her, her back pressed into softness, she cried with joy, turning to plunge into his embrace.