He had once thought that if he loved someone, she must be within his reach, that even if it meant taking by force, being overbearing, or resorting to any means necessary, he would never let her leave his side, not even by a half step. It was a pathological possessiveness.
Now, however, he was willing to let go. If he were hanging by a thread, if she could forget everything and start anew, living a happy life, perhaps that would be a form of liberation. At least she would be happy. As for his unwillingness, his dying with his eyes open, it didn't matter at all.
He loved her and would rather die with his eyes open than have her be safe year after year.
"Ah Liang..." In her sleep, Qiao Xia murmured unconsciously, affectionately cuddling her pillow, sweetly calling out his name.
