City of Mo - Ye Linglan (Recommended) (Updated for Yi Yi's Diamond tier)

"Mo Zhicheng..." Lily's murmur was hoarse, and tears had already dropped with a patter. He was crouching over her, and at that moment, the theater was as chaotic as a poked hornet's nest. Not only were there piercing screams everywhere, but plaster dust billowed like a mushroom cloud, filling the air with a choking density. The stage lights instantly went out, and the pitch-black darkness only stirred up even greater panic.

The man tried to help her up, but the entire scene was completely out of control at that moment, and everyone's subconscious instinct was only to flee! She didn't know how long it lasted, guarded entirely by him; at that moment, she felt no panic at all. She only felt her throat tightly blocked with an astringent ache, and a surging wave of heat broke through her last line of defense. She could no longer control her tears at all. Hearing the muffled groans he forced out with extreme endurance, she hurriedly pushed him away. "Forget about me! You go first... Go..." she roared with a cracked voice.

The next moment, her ears were filled with his low, helpless chuckles and wry resignation. Gritting his teeth through the pain, the man squeezed out every single syllable, "Even at a time like this... you still want to... push me away... is that it?"

"Just go! Go..." she pleaded with him, practically crying. "Don't worry about me, go!!" No matter what he said, there was only one strong wish in her heart: she did not want him to stay; she did not want him to get hurt; she even anticipated a worse outcome—even if she couldn't escape the theater, she had to let him leave first, let him live. The successive rumbling collapses dragged her thoughts back, and she blurted out a scolding reproach, "Mo Zhicheng, for a woman who doesn't love you, is it worth getting yourself severely injured?"

Until her voice faded, she had deceived him with a lie, yet she had also deceived herself. Seventeen years of naive, unrequited love finally fell short of this moment's moth-to-a-flame brilliance. You jump, I jump.

Yet she could not bear to see him hurt. She would rather bear that intense pain all by herself, because... the heavens had left his past full of scars. If she could, she was willing—truly willing—to smooth them away for him.

In a flash of lightning, she was jolted awake as if by thunder, suddenly realizing that all those heartaches and losses, all that suffering and despair, were merely to prove one thing: she had fallen in love with him!

Ye Linglan loved Mo Zhicheng. It turned out to be love!

However, hearing her resolute and icy voice, the man could no longer speak a word, emitting only a timid, helpless chuckle, as if afraid of losing something, or perhaps because he had never truly possessed it in the first place. Finally, that low, hoarse laughter was filled with agony and despair, as if the fleeing footsteps trampling outside were not crushing his body, but tearing his heart to pieces.

"I told you to go! Just go..."

The woman's low roar deeply pierced through that chaotic din.

Ambulances and fire engines rushed to the scene upon hearing the news, and the urgent wailing of sirens could already be heard not far away.

---

When Ye Linglan woke up again, the room was filled with the pungent smell of antiseptic. As her thoughts slowly returned, she realized this was a hospital, and the television in the ward was broadcasting on a loop the news of the opera house chandelier collapse:

She watched the screen showing the theater's plastered ceiling caving in, bringing down part of the stage lights and balconies suspended from the roof. The scene was utterly chaotic. That night, the theater had been packed to capacity, accommodating over seven hundred people. From the ceiling collapse to the stampede triggered by the audience's escape, over a hundred people had already been injured, with dozens of them severely hurt!

Seeing the words "dozens severely hurt," her heart skipped a beat. She hurriedly tried to get up, ignoring the pain all over her body. She found that her ward was a single room, and aside from herself, Mo Zhicheng was nowhere to be seen. Where was he?!

Her heart sank, and a bad premonition welled up within her. Anxious, she swung her legs out of bed, only to be blocked by the medical staff who pushed open the door. Panicking, she grabbed a nurse's wrist and repeatedly asked if she had seen a Chinese man.

The nurse asked, "The one who was with you?"

She nodded immediately. It was only from the mouths of these medical staff that she learned that when they were rescued from the theater, the man had held her tightly in his arms, protecting her with his own body, which was why she had only sustained minor scrapes and bruises.

Linglan took a deep breath, her eyes already veiled with a thin mist. Choking back her tears, she asked where he was, where on earth was he?!

"That gentleman has multiple fractures all over his body!"

Her heart shattered with pain. Clutching the corner of the nurse's uniform, she pleaded, "Take me to see him, I'm begging you, take me to see him!"

The pretty nurse looked her up and down. At that moment, Linglan looked extremely disheveled, with messy hair, wearing a hospital gown, and in her haste, she hadn't even had time to put on shoes, standing barefoot on the floor. Seeing her like this, the nurse only said, "Someone has already arranged for that gentleman to be moved to the VIP nursing suite."

She didn't know who could have done it, but she just wanted to see him. That yearning had never been so intense; she needed to see him immediately, right now. She still had so many things left unsaid that she hadn't managed to tell him yet.

"But visitors are not casually allowed in the VIP nursing suite. We need permission from the patient or his family before anyone can visit."

After her repeated insistence, the doctor managed to secure an opportunity for her.

The VIP ward was different from ordinary wards; the environment here was much quieter and more comfortable. In fact, she knew that for foreigners to be hospitalized and treated in local British hospitals, not to mention the complicated procedures, the expenses were exorbitant. Deep down, she vaguely knew that the Tiancheng Group must have immediately sent people over.

She waited outside the ward area. Just a few agonizingly long minutes passed in torment, only to be met with the words: "I'm sorry, Mr. Mo said he doesn't want to see you right now!"

At that moment, her legs turned weak, and her heart was filled with bitterness. Her lies had severed everything; she had hurt him so deeply that he wouldn't even grant her a chance to meet.

She felt overwhelmingly sad—no, it felt as though she were dying. If not for her arm bracing against the wall, her entire body wouldn't have been able to withstand such a blunt and direct rejection.

"Could you please help me pass along a message to him again? I have something to say to him, just three minutes!" She was racing against time. "One minute, just let me have one minute to finish saying what I want to say to him!" She didn't want to live the rest of her life in regret!

However, the medical staff had already blocked her outside the ward area and escorted her away.

---

Her injuries were minor, and she fully recovered within a few days. The British authorities concluded their investigation into the theater collapse, determining that the incident was caused by severe weather affecting the theater's roof. Having suffered a severe rainstorm with heavy rainfall and numerous lightning strikes the day before the incident, the tragedy had been triggered.

As the collapse incident came to a close, she was still waiting for him. Until three days later, a kind nurse told her, "Mr. Mo has already been discharged from the hospital!"

Discharged?!

With a flustered expression, she whirled around and rushed out of the hospital, hurrying to the hotel where they had been staying. In extreme anxiety, she asked the front desk clerk to check if Mo Zhicheng had checked out, but the staff member was unwilling to reveal Mo Zhicheng's room number.

Linglan had no choice but to call Tang Pei for help. Though separated by a great distance, Tang Pei could still hear the urgency in her voice over the phone, laced with anxiety and helplessness.

"Director Tang, what is Mr. Mo's room number?"

"Why has your phone been unreachable? What number is this?"

"Brother Xiao Tang," she murmured pleadingly, "please tell me his room number, okay? There are some things I need to tell him in person, because I don't want to miss out again!" She murmured with heartfelt sincerity.

There was a brief silence on the other end of the line. Faintly, she could hear the pattering of raindrops beating against a window over there: "Mr. Mo has a ten o'clock flight tonight back to Nanjiang. He just left the hospital, is resting at the hotel, and will probably check out at five this afternoon. Room 3105 is his room number." The person paused, then added, "Linglan, go quickly!"

"Thank you... Thank you, Brother Xiao Tang..." she kept muttering.

She stood before the heavy solid-wood door. Having hurried back from the hospital to the hotel lobby and then found her way here, the dark, glossy solid-wood door was carved with flamboyant patterns. She finally pressed the doorbell, waiting for the moment he would open the door for her.

She waited a full three minutes. She knew the man might have already seen that it was her through the peephole, and all that silence meant he still refused to see her. She grabbed her phone and directly dialed his number. During the chaotic shoving at the theater last time, she had lost her phone, and this was her backup phone.

Amidst the continuous ringing tones, there was still no answer. Yet the very next moment, the solid-wood door in front of her slowly opened. Lifting her gaze, she finally saw that tall, slender figure standing in the doorway, and as their eyes met, she finally laid eyes on the man once again.

Mo Zhicheng stood there looking dejected. Through the slightly ajar gap of the door, she saw that the curtains in the room were drawn tightly shut, not letting in a single ray of light, casting a gloomy and shadowy atmosphere in the dimness. Shifting her gaze back to him, the man was wearing only a pajamas shirt, his bangs slightly messy, shielding his sharp brows, while the yellowish lamplight cast a shadow across his face.

The room was filled with the faint scent of medicine, and her nose suddenly began to sting. Upon seeing her, Mo Zhicheng's expression darkened. "What are you doing here?"

His thousand-miles-away indifference still chilled her to the bone. She smiled bitterly. "Can you let me come in?"

She wasn't very certain whether he would push her out again. Everything today was her own fault; she had no one to blame.

To her surprise, he pushed the door wide open and turned to walk straight back into the room. Linglan cautiously walked inside and gently closed the door. The presidential suite was unimaginably large, and her gaze followed his footsteps as she looked across the space.

Mo Zhicheng sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up a cigarette case from the nightstand, and lowered his head to light a cigarette. The ZIPPER lighter flickered with an orange flame, illuminating that cold yet charming face.

He gently exhaled a cloud of grayish-white smoke. Linglan stopped in front of him, cautiously pulling the cigarette from his lips. Mo Zhicheng raised his head in confusion, looking at her disheveled form in the dim light. She turned away and stubbed out the cigarette, prompting him to ask coldly, "What do you want?"

Linglan quietly lowered herself, squatting down at his feet, and reached out to hold his injured arm. Looking down, she could still see the scattered, scabbed scars on the back of his right hand. Tears burned the depths of her eyes; she leaned in closer and gently kissed them away, murmuring, "Does it still hurt?"

Unexpectedly, the man instinctively pulled his arm back, and Mo Zhicheng asked in a low voice, "You didn't come here just to tell me these things, did you?"

Linglan smiled bitterly, raising her dazed gaze. Mo Zhicheng furrowed his brow tightly, staring at her tear-filled eyes.

"No, there are still many things I haven't told you..."

"One minute," he whispered. "I don't want to waste too much time on a woman who doesn't love me either, so finish saying whatever you have to say and then leave!"

His rejection felt like a heavy blow to the head. Only then did she deeply realize how much heartache her once-cruel words had caused him, just like the sharp, twisting pain in her heart right now. She had to exercise so much self-control just to force back the moisture in her eyes; she was simply afraid that one minute would be too brief, leaving her unable to finish or express everything. Yet no matter how sad she felt, she could no longer turn her back on her own heart and run away in a panic.

Seeing her silence, he lowered his gaze and said derisively, "Or are you planning to just keep quiet like this? If there's really nothing else, then go back. I want to get some quiet sleep."

She stared at him blankly. A wisp of lingering smoke curled upward from the crystal ashtray, spiraling in the dim light and outlining a posture of sorrow. The tip of her nose was filled with the scent of cigarettes as she gazed intently at the man before her.

She finally mustered up her courage. "I came to tell you... I'm sorry. I lied to you with the most despicable falsehood, and I lied to myself as well."

Mo Zhicheng froze instantly.

The air in the room seemed to congeal in an instant. "What did you say?"

The tears in her eyes fell instantly. "I said... I never dared to admit my true feelings. I was afraid of losing, and even more afraid that the affection I had looked up to for many years would be uprooted by your carrot-and-stick approach..." Her voice was very soft, very light.