TSFLIP Chapter 770

But there was one thing he couldn’t deny—he was meant to rot away in this dark room.

Yet suddenly, a light appeared in that darkness.

The door creaked open, and against the glare stood a small, delicate girl.

Han Chen’s black eyes squinted, not yet used to the sudden brightness. After a moment, he gave a faint chuckle.
“Good evening, Miss Xia.”

“It’s morning,” Fengguang corrected carefully. She hesitated for a long time before finally stepping closer to him.
“You’re not tied up.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Then leave.”

His calm, detached expression froze for the first time. After a long pause, he gave her a strange look—as if she’d lost her mind.
“Are you really Xia Fengguang? Or are you a clone, like me?”

“Can you be serious for once?” she said coldly, not a hint of a smile on her face.

Han Chen stood up. He should’ve been the one looking up at her, but with his height, it turned into him looking down instead. A beautiful smile curved his lips.
“You do realize, if you let me walk out of here, you’re basically announcing Han Qi’s death sentence.”

“Han Qi won’t die.” Her reply was quick and firm.

He laughed softly. “That’s just something you tell yourself to feel better. When it comes to illness, most people are helpless.”

“Even if you’re right,” she said, “Han Qi would never want you to die just so he could live.”

“That doesn’t surprise me,” he said dryly. “Ever since we were kids, he’s always been the saintly type.”

He thought for a moment before settling on the right word: Saint. Yes, that fits.

He remembered how frail Han Qi had been as a child—always trying to do the impossible: climbing a tree to rescue a cat, trying to carry Han Chen on his back after he’d hurt his leg playing around… so many memories. Looking back now, wasn’t Han Qi always the self-sacrificing saint?

There was never a trace of darkness in him—and that was exactly what Han Chen both hated and envied.

Fengguang lowered her gaze.
“Han Qi has survived eighteen years of pain and sickness. I believe in him. He’s not someone who gives in easily. Even if it’s just for me… he’ll keep fighting to live.”

She believed, with almost childlike hope, that if he could fight for one more second, one more minute, one more hour—time itself would slowly give him more.

“And if he can’t?” Han Chen asked lightly, almost playfully, as if the question was just idle curiosity.

But he didn’t expect her answer.

“If he can’t,” she said, her eyes bright and unwavering, “then I’ll go with him.”

For a moment, the seriousness in her voice filled the room—it was an unshakable, breathtaking kind of resolve.

Han Chen finally gave a short laugh.
“Xia Fengguang, should I call you foolish? You’re too timid to face your guilt, so you want to set me free—but you’re also reckless enough to die with Han Qi? Trading one life for two isn’t exactly a smart deal.”

She looked him straight in the eye.
“If a twenty-year-old runs into a burning building to save a ninety-year-old and dies, would you call that a smart deal?”

“Of course not,” he answered without hesitation.

“But to me,” she said softly, “life can’t be measured in numbers. That’s why I can’t stand by and watch you die—but I can choose to go with Han Qi to the end.”

The air grew still.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Then Han Chen let out a quiet, bitter laugh.
“I think I finally understand why you love Han Qi… and why you could never love me.”