The Year He Hated Me Most - Chapter 3

After about an hour, Nan Heting finally decided what to do next.

I had no intention of going with him, but somehow I could never stray more than a meter away.

I stood outside the bathroom, listening to the water run.

A minute later, bottles and jars clattered to the floor. A chill ran down my spine.

I flung open the door and saw Nan Heting, his eyes bloodshot.

Faced with the blood that stained the whole bathroom, at last his expression twisted.

My death had caught him completely off guard.

There was no one else in the villa. If Nan Heting’s assistant hadn’t come back for some documents, he might not have learned of my death so soon.

It had taken barely half a day from the moment I died to the moment I was cremated.

Everyone had forgotten that the place where I died hadn’t been cleaned.

So the bathroom Nan Heting saw now looked like a full-blown murder scene.

“Yan Mingmei!”

He roared at the empty air.

He nearly scared my soul right out of me all over again.

“Why are you shouting…?” I muttered from the side.

After my body had gone limp, I’d ended up in the bathtub.

It wasn’t even that dirty. Couldn’t he clean it himself?

But Nan Heting couldn’t hear me, and he had no intention of cleaning anything.

Trembling with rage, he pulled out his phone and called his assistant. He didn’t even notice when the bathroom door had opened.

“Find me another place. I’m moving out tomorrow!”

Then he hurled the phone against the floor. It shattered into pieces.

I’d never seen Nan Heting this volatile.

That was close.

I patted my nonexistent heartbeat and tried to calm down.

After Nan Heting left, I crouched and stirred the bloody water in the tub, as if I wanted to hurt myself all over again.

It was the second time I’d seen a scene like this.

The first time was when I accidentally discovered Nan Heting had married me only to get revenge.

I’d been in a daze and stumbled into the bathtub.

Blood had spread everywhere. The tiny life I’d only just learned existed was snuffed out like that.

The second time was when I killed myself.

I’d passed out early, leaving the blood to flow.

I never thought I’d live to see such a sight again.

“Nan Heting…”