Rong Ye remained kneeling on the cold ground, his body trembling without control.
The tears had not stopped; instead, they fell even more fiercely now, soaking his face and dripping onto the ground beneath him.
His shoulders shook again and again, his breathing uneven and broken, as if every breath carried a weight too heavy for him to bear.
The madness from before had faded, but what replaced it was far worse.
Guilt pressed down on him like a mountain, suffocating and inescapable. And along with it came a deep, burning shame...so overwhelming that he could not even lift his head.
He did not dare to look at An Mo. He did not dare to meet anyone's eyes. It felt as though just being seen like this would expose every ugly thought he had just harbored.
He felt filthy and pathetic.
After everything that had just happened, after realizing what he had almost done, Rong Ye could not even imagine how he would face Su Qinglan again.
