The Guide to Rising to Power: The Ultimate Schemes of a Green Tea Beauty

"Liang Xiheng!"

Shen Yao's voice was almost a slash as she staggered and lunged at him.

She reached out to touch his face, but her fingertips touched something warm and sticky, and her white lace gloves were instantly stained a shocking red.

It wasn't an illusion; it was real blood.

Blood kept gushing from the corner of his lips, dripping down his chin and staining his silver satin suit.

Liang Xiheng raised his hand and grasped the hand she was covering her face. Blood seeped from between her fingers, trickling down the curve of her wrist.

He looked at her, his tone calm to the point of indifference, as if stating something unrelated to himself:

"Sister...I'm going to die."

Shen Yao stared at him, her pupils trembling violently, but she blurted out, "You're lying to me, aren't you?"

She grabbed his collar, her voice low and urgent:

"You didn't get a new heart transplant? Are you really going to die like this? Are you willing to accept it?"

A thousand words welled up in her eyes, but they stuck in her throat, and she couldn't utter a single one. She couldn't even tell if she was questioning or pleading.

Liang Xiheng looked at her face, which was slightly flushed from her emotions, and suddenly smiled.

The smile was so faint it was almost invisible, yet it carried a strange sense of satisfaction: "I'm not lying to you."

He paused, his voice even softer, "If I weren't dying, would I have let you go?"

Actually, no.

Even if he dies, he will haunt her as a ghost.

Just like now, he's using death to make her remember this scene forever. He wants to forever stand between Xue Huaiqing and Shen Yao, like a thorn that can't be removed.

He wanted her to remember this day every time she thought of that man, to remember him standing before her, covered in blood, yet still smiling.

He wanted her to never forget him for the rest of her life.

Perhaps without Shen Yao, Liang Xiheng, upon discovering the truth, would have chosen to take revenge on Liang Zhenghe personally, in his own way, in a fight to the death, a mutual destruction.

But he had already changed his mind.

All he wants now is for her to remember him.

Even if it's done this way.

Another mouthful of blood welled up inside him.

Liang Xiheng could no longer hold on and collapsed to his knees. Blood splattered on Shen Yao's white wedding dress, like red roses blooming rapidly.

He held onto the hem of her wedding dress and looked up at her.

A sudden, tearing pain shot through my chest; my heart pounded wildly, then rapidly failed me the next second.

His heavy breathing tore at his thin chest, each breath sounding as if it were being ripped out from the depths of his lungs.

Shen Yao crouched down. She reached out and placed her hand on his shoulder, trying to make her voice sound calm enough:

"Get a heart transplant. You're still young, don't think like that."

Liang Xiheng slowly raised his eyes, blood trickling down the corner of his mouth, but he seemed oblivious, staring intently at her.

"Using someone else's heart?"

—Even if there is one person in this world whose beating heart might be taken away because of their needs.

Shen Yao met his gaze without flinching:

"yes!"

No matter what means are used, survival comes first.

No matter what, this is Liang Xiheng, her younger brother.

She could not love him, she could hate him, she could hold a grudge against everything he had done, and they could have countless arguments, countless cold wars, and countless times hurting each other, but she could never watch him die in front of her.

Absolutely not.

Liang Xiheng gazed at Shen Yao. He looked at her delicate and pure face, at her calm and rational eyes, and listened to her utter such beautiful and melodious words.

His sister is a heartless woman.

Prioritizing interests and protecting one's own interests are both rational approaches.

But that's precisely why she's so captivating. That's precisely why it's so difficult for him to win her heart.

She never easily gives herself away, locking her heart in layers of safes, with the key always hanging out of reach of others.

He did everything he could to win her heart.

Schemes, conspiracies, feigning weakness, sacrifices...

He used every trick in the book, and even with this last body, he wanted to squeeze out every last drop of value.

Liang Xiheng slowly shook his head, his voice as soft as a wisp of smoke about to dissipate: "No heart."

Shen Yao wanted nothing more than to raise her hand and slap him.

She took a deep breath, forcing it back down her throat, and gripped his shoulders tightly.

"Don't think I'll remember you forever just because you're dead. Even without your parents, what about your grandparents? What are they supposed to do? An aging parent burying their child?"

She paused, then her voice suddenly rose:

"What about Liang Zhenghe? He used you, schemed against you, treated you like a knife to be used and then discarded. Don't you want to take revenge on him yourself? Don't you hate him?"

Liang Xiheng's eyelashes trembled slightly. Suddenly, his voice came from the crook of her shoulder, muffled and tinged with a childlike bewilderment:

"I hate him so much."

Shen Yao lowered her head in surprise.

Liang Xiheng didn't look up, but simply repeated:

"Sister, I hate him so much."

He paused, the breath of blood churning in his throat. "Why did he do this to me?"

Shen Yao's fingers tightened.

"After you go back... could you help me get the answer?"

Shen Yao gritted her teeth: "Go find the answer yourself!"

Liang Xiheng slowly raised his eyes, and his usually deep pupils now looked like ink soaked in water, with a wet blur around the edges.

He looked at her and gently, stubbornly, shook his head:

"I do not want."

"Sister, please."

His voice was so low it was almost inaudible, yet every word struck her heart with crystal clarity.

"Do one last thing for me. Help me, don't let Dad suffer so much. Take this evidence and find him. Make him come to me."

Shen Yao's tears finally fell.

Why?

Why treat her like this?

These were some of her few relatives.

They had happy days together, filled with laughter, anger, and tug-of-war, a complex web of emotions as tangled as an unsolvable knot.

Why? Has she lost another family member?

But she knew better than anyone else that this was the ending Liang Xiheng had chosen himself.

Shen Yao looked at his eyes, which were gradually losing focus but still stubbornly staring at her, and finally nodded: "Okay."

The bloodstain at the corner of Liang Xiheng's mouth cracked slightly with a smile: "How can you shed tears? Today is our wedding day."

Shen Yao did not answer.

She knew she couldn't save him.

She simply knelt there, watching him sink one knee into the blood-stained hem of her dress. The white of the wedding gown mingled with the red of the blood, like an overly intense oil painting.

Liang Xiheng's face grew paler and paler, as white as candle wax in a church, and even his lip color faded.

Shen Yao finally asked only one question:

"Xiheng, why do you love me?"

The only response she received was silence.

Liang Xiheng simply raised his hand, pulled apart the red thread connecting the two of them, and slowly plucked a silver longevity lock from his neck.

The locket had been pressed against his skin for many years and still carried his body heat; the auspicious patterns engraved on it had long since faded.

He placed it in her palm and then closed his fingers.

His dying words seemed somewhat cryptic, but Shen Yao knew what he was trying to say.

"Shen Yao, hurry up and leave. If you miss this opportunity, even as a ghost, I will not let you go."

Shen Yao looked down at the longevity lock in her palm, then looked up at him.

Liang Xiheng was also looking at her.

He simply looked at her, as if trying to etch her entire being into his pupils, and then gently looked away.

No matter how much I miss her, I can't keep bothering her anymore.

People who are about to die often look terrible in the end. He didn't want her to remember him as someone whose face was completely disfigured.

What he wanted her to remember was the flowers in the church, the blue diamond, not him lying in a pool of blood, his breathing broken and intermittent.

Liang Xiheng turned his head and called out:

"Ah Shao, see my sister off!"

With red eyes, Ah Shao grabbed the absent-minded Shen Yao and pulled her up.

Her wrist was gripped, and she staggered out, her veil trailing on the ground, stained with petals and blood.

The moment she stepped out of the church, Shen Yao couldn't help but turn back.

The last thing she saw was Liang Xiheng kneeling alone in the center of the empty church.

All around were fluttering petals and bloodstains everywhere. The dappled sunlight cast by the stained glass fell on the boy's shoulders, like a divine comfort.

He lowered his head, plucked a petal from the blood-soaked red roses on his chest, brought it to his lips, and kissed it gently.

Shen Yao knew that he wanted to kiss her.

But she had already stepped out of that door.

The wind blew from the Tuscan fields, lifting her blood-stained skirt and disheveled veil.

The church doors behind him slowly closed, completely isolating the kneeling figure in the light and shadow into darkness.

Shen Yao clutched the longevity lock and didn't look back.

She agreed.

"Xiheng, your sister will take you away."