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Mo Ye held Eleven's hand and stroked her pale face with his other trembling hand. Her face was very pale, terrifying even. He seemed to have seen Eleven when he tortured her.

His heart, pricked at the moment, was very painful.

"Please don't do this. I'm fine." She weakly smiled. While her pale lips were indeed terrifying, she seemed to smile gently as though the virus in her did not faze her.

"I'm sorry! Eleven, I'm sorry!" Mo Ye planted his face against the back of her hand in utter regret. He knew that his apologies, however many, would not be enough to bring back her health.

This was his fault. All his fault.

"Mo Ye, it's all over. I'm past it, and you should stop blaming yourself," Eleven gently said. "If you bring it up again and I recall the past as a result… You don't want me to hate you, do you?"

She had spent much time thinking it through before coming to terms with it. She hoped that they would be able to forget it and move on.