Chapter 154 Please, Stop Loving Me
Nicholas felt the dagger's razor-sharp edge as it descended. In a desperate move, he gripped the blade with both hands.
Blood immediately poured from his palms, but he felt no pain—only the violent struggle of strength between two men. Using every ounce of force he had left, he hurled Matthew sideways, breaking free from the crushing weight.
When he staggered to his feet, his body trembled violently. The wild mountain wind whipped around him, howling in his ears like a banshee's cry.
Suddenly, a devastating blow struck his head. His ears rang with sharp buzzing, then his strength gave out completely, and he collapsed to the rocky ground.
He fought desperately to stay conscious, knowing that if he couldn't get back up, he might never have another chance. But his body had reached its limit. As darkness claimed him, the last thing he heard was a gunshot echoing across the mountaintop.
Just as Matthew raised his weapon for the killing blow, Charlie burst onto the scene with armed bodyguards, Emma close behind.
The bullet struck the dagger from Matthew's grip. He was barely clinging to life—Nicholas's blade had found its mark just two inches above his heart, and after their brutal fight, his blood was nearly spent. A bone-deep chill was setting in.
"Mr. Harrison!" Charlie rushed forward, catching Nicholas as he collapsed. Blood covered his hands like crimson gloves. "Get him out of here, now!"
A bodyguard helped carry the unconscious man down the mountain where helicopters and SUVs waited in the darkness below.
Emma stared at the horrific scene—blood splattered across the rocks, two men broken and bleeding. Her mind reeled with shock and terror. If she'd arrived moments later, Nicholas would be dead by Matthew's hand.
Matthew lay in a spreading pool of blood, his body trembling from blood loss and approaching shock. Through sheer willpower, he forced his eyes open and gazed at the familiar figure before him.
"Emma," he whispered, her name barely audible on his lips.
She immediately knelt beside him, pulling out a small vial. Her hands shook as she sprinkled the medicinal powder over his wound, then pressed a handkerchief against the bleeding gash.
"The bleeding will stop soon," she murmured, her voice tight with barely controlled fear. "Don't worry."
Today, losing either of them would have destroyed her.
"Why..." His voice was weak, confusion flickering in his pain-glazed eyes. "Why save me? If I had killed him... would you still help me?"
"Yes," she answered without hesitation, then added softly, "All life has equal value. No one is more precious than another. I would save anyone."
Matthew's heart clenched with crushing disappointment. He wasn't special to her after all. In his pain, he lashed out with cruel words.
"The Warm Heaven—I destroyed it all. Nicholas is beyond saving now. You must hate me."
Her hand trembled slightly against his wound, but she fought to keep her voice steady. "That would be his fate to bear."
The mountain wind whipped her long hair around her face. Beneath her dark lashes, unmistakable sorrow flickered.
"Matthew, I don't know if you're working with Elvin or what your true motives are. But in all these years, you've never hurt me. You've been nothing but kind and protective. You're a good man."
"You saved me from those sharks. What you gave then, you receive now."
His blood-stained eyes remained fixed on her face, unable to form any harsh words.
With his bloodied hand, he gently grasped hers, his voice breaking with desperate hope. "Emma, come away with me."
She didn't pull away, simply looked at him with infinite sadness. "Matthew, the ability to love someone is more precious than the selfish need to possess them. Someday, when you shed tears seeing the person you love find happiness—that's when you'll understand what love truly means."
Under the cold moonlight, something shifted in Matthew's harsh features, softening them. Her words pierced straight through his wounded heart.
She continued, her gaze intense and earnest. "When you truly love someone, you accept their flaws and vulnerability. You're willing to sacrifice everything. You trust each other completely, grow together, find meaning and courage that transcends yourself."
"You cry for them, sing for them, and yes—you'd fearlessly face death beside them."
Matthew couldn't fully grasp her meaning, but her words carried a healing power that reached something deep inside him.
The bleeding finally stopped. As she gently tied the handkerchief around his shoulder, her closeness filled his senses with the delicate scent of lilies that always surrounded her.
"This fight had no winners," she said quietly. "Whether it was you or him who got hurt, either outcome would have broken my heart."
A single tear rolled down her cheek.
He reached up to catch it on his fingertip—so warm it seemed to burn his skin.
"Don't cry," he rasped.
"Matthew, thank you for everything you've done for me. But please... don't love me anymore."
She looked at him one last time with profound sadness, then turned and walked away with firm resolve.
Matthew watched her retreating figure until his vision blurred. He wanted to call out, to beg her to stay, but the words wouldn't come. He could only watch helplessly as she disappeared into the darkness.
He was like a forgotten boat lost at sea in a raging storm—he could see the lighthouse, but had no oars to reach it. His heart drifted between hope and despair, the ending utterly tragic.
The helicopter's rotors thundered through the night sky as Emma and Nicholas flew back to the estate. She'd arranged for the SUV driver to take the wounded Matthew to the nearest town for medical care.
Nicholas lay unconscious, his body covered in wounds. His hands especially—torn and bloody from gripping the blade—made Emma's heart ache with guilt and sorrow.
She carefully cleaned his injuries, her eyes red-rimmed with unshed tears.
The helicopter touched down on the estate's private helipad. The moment they entered the main house, Emma turned to Charlie with urgent authority.
"Go to the laboratory down the mountain. Tell those scientists to bring all the extracted plant solutions here immediately."
Her voice brooked no argument, sharp with desperate urgency.
"We can't waste another second!"
Charlie nodded without question and hurried out.
In the laboratory, several white-coated scientists worked diligently at their stations. Charlie's sudden appearance surprised them all—the agreed deadline was still days away.
Jane, with gold-rimmed glasses, pushed her frames up her nose.
"Mr. Hill?" Her tone carried just the right note of confusion. "We still have three days left. We haven't finished everything yet."
As she spoke, her eyes flickered nervously. Then she carefully picked up a vial of deep blue solution from her workstation.
"Please be extremely careful with this one," she said, placing the blue liquid into an insulated container with exaggerated care. "It would be a disaster if anything happened to it."
Charlie accepted the container, responding grimly, "Don't worry. Everyone keep working. I appreciate your efforts."
With that, he gathered the twelve plant extracts the team had prepared and rushed back to the estate.
Emma was already waiting in the small laboratory building. She took the plant solutions from Charlie and began the final preparations.
Bright lights illuminated her focused profile as she worked with intense concentration.
When she picked up the vial of deep blue solution—Jane's contribution—her gaze sharpened with sudden alertness.
Instead of mixing it immediately, she extracted an extremely fine silver needle and carefully dipped it into the solution. She held it up to the light, examining it closely for several long moments.
Only after confirming it appeared safe did she slowly pour the blue liquid into her container, watching it blend with the other reddish solutions.
Time crawled by as Emma worked through the night. Outside, the sky gradually lightened with the pale glow of dawn.
As the first golden rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, Emma finally completed the semi-finished antidote. Despite her exhaustion, she clutched the vial—still warm from the chemical reactions—and hurried to Nicholas's room.
Charlie was already keeping vigil beside the bed. Seeing her arrive, he immediately helped prop Nicholas up against the headboard.
Emma used a small spoon to carefully feed the antidote to Nicholas, drop by precious drop.
The room was so quiet that they could hear each other breathing.
About a minute later, Nicholas suddenly erupted into violent coughing.
The sound was devastating—raw and desperate. Then he convulsed and spat up a mouthful of dark red blood before his head lolled to the side, unconscious once more.
Emma's face went deathly pale.
"How is this possible?" she whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't include any Seven-colored Flower extract..."
Her eyes snapped to the empty antidote vial, pupils dilating with horror.
"No! He's been poisoned!" she cried out. "One of those scientists sabotaged the formula!"