Pristine Darkness

Chapter 93

The final showdown between the Butterfly Killer, Jian Yao, and Bo Jinyan is here, and both Jian Yao and the killer are forced to deal with painful memories . Can Jian Yao forgive her father's killer? Should she?

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Translator: shl

Editor/ Proofreader: Anks

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In order to crack a child trafficking case, he had stood outside in the bitter winter for more than 30 hours. He was still young, but his legs had developed problems due to being frozen.

That day, both his daughters had been at the crime scene. But, because he had earlier locked them into the television cabinet, they had escaped everything. Unfortunately, his elder daughter Jian Yao had witnessed the unfolding of the entire massacre, and was unable to speak for a long time thereafter . . .

Pain and remorse, like a ferocious beast, ate away at Luo Lang's heart. Every day, every night. He had previously considered surrendering to the police, but when he thought of prison life, and even the possibility of abandonment by his parents, he shrank from the idea . . .

In the end, the police did not come knocking at his door. He had escaped.

However, could one really escape?

From that day onwards, that blockhead was forever trapped in the living room of the Jian residence, holding a blood-stained machete, eyes full of tears, not knowing what to do.

......

The sky was almost dark. They could only see one another's faces by the borrowed glimmers of light that lingered.

At that point in time, 36-year-old Luo Lang was not entirely conscious of what was going on. His gaze slipped from Bo Jinyan to Jian Yao's face, beside him. Out of the blue, a little spring of joy bubbled up in his heart.

What kind of eyes were those!

Those eyes were pure, jet-black, so calm and boundless. In this lifetime, he could finally see those eyes again. Her eyes were just like her father's. Those were the eyes Luo Lang admired, revered, and had longed for.

He felt his legs go soft under him, and he collapsed on the ground.

He could not clearly distinguish whether the person in front of him was Jian Yao or Jian Yi. Behind him loomed sheer cliffs and precipitous rock faces, but he felt as if he were kneeling in the living room, that year.

"I'm sorry . . . I'm sorry . . ." He looked up at her, his expression indistinguishable between timidity and obsession. "Please forgive me . . . forgive me . . ."

His tears burst forth.

Even though he made no movement, Bo Jinyan grasped his gun and faced Luo Lang's direction as he listened to the sounds. At this time, the gun in Jian Yao's hand was aimed even more precisely at Luo Lang's forehead. She looked at his sudden pained appearance, and her mind was a jumble of thoughts and emotions. She had no idea how to reply. Her tears gradually overflowed and blurred her vision.

At her silence, Luo Lang's heart plummeted into icy depths. Perhaps people on the brink of death always had crazy thoughts. These past twenty years, every moment of every day, he had thirsted for her forgiveness. He even grabbed her trouser leg and looked up at her with eyes full of hope and expectation, brimming with deep emotion. Again, he said, "Jian Yao . . . please forgive me . . . I don't want anything else . . . these twenty years, all I have wanted is a word from you . . . . forgiveness . . ."

His tearful words caused a thread of sorrow to arise in Jian Yao's heart. She knew that he did not have long to live; even if he did not die of his serious injuries today, he would eventually be sentenced to death. Suddenly, all the experiences of their acquaintance came flooding into her mind. There was the hometown reunion organised by Li Xunran, where he had sat down placidly in a suit, smiled leisurely at her and said, "Jian Yao, when I was younger I took you and Xunran fishing." There was the case when the masked killers were drawing closer, An Yan and Fang Qing had been blown up, she had been knocked to the ground due to the force of the explosion, it was he who had picked her up and faced the masked killer single-handedly.