Chapter 905: Yan Huan Would Make The Perfect Donor

Chapter 905: Yan Huan Would Make The Perfect Donor

Who would have expected Su Muran to be in such a miserable state?

Back then, Sun Yuhan was like a strand of grass beside her. Before her, she couldn’t even stand with her back straight.

But things were different now. Before Sun Yuhan, Su Muran was like a speck of dust, a worthless person that could never stand straight again. Even a beggar did better than her, for at the very least they had life in them.

Su Muran’s vitality was leaking out of her, day by day.

No one could say for sure how much time she had left. The doctor had told her that half a year would be the maximum she could hope for. Ha. Half a year. Half a year more of waiting.

She couldn’t stand it any longer.

Her face was hideous from distortion.

She moved to the chair and sat down before the cake-faced Sun Yuhan. What she really wanted to do was to wrap her fingers around her throat and strangle her to death.

That way, she wouldn’t be the only one to die. She didn’t want to die. It shouldn’t have been her.

She clenched her fist and gnashed her teeth so hard they made noises.

Why did it have to be her? She wasn’t even 30. Was it really going to end like this?

Betrayed by her husband, her father, her family. What did she have left?

And at the bottom of it all was the woman before her, who had sprang out of nowhere.

It was all because of her. HER.

Sun Yuhan picked up the cup and brought it to her lips, ignoring the menacing look in Su Muran’s eyes. A person needed to be in good shape to maintain their hatred, and Su Muran looked like she would die by a single poke.

“Don’t you want to know why I’ve come to you?” asked Sun Yuhan, forming a light smile. Right now, Sun Yuhan was dressed to the nines, and the ghastly Su Muran could not even hope to match up to her beauty. At the very least, there was no way for her to look as healthy as Sun Yuhan.

Sun Yuhan laughed coldly. “What is there to talk about between us?”

“For starters, what if I tell you I know a method to save your life?” asked Sun Yuhan, edging towards Su Muran and staring at her bony frame.

Su Muran stiffened. The light in her eyes contracted. “What do you mean?”

“I meant what I meant,” said Sun Yuhan, twirling the cup in her hand. “As for Lu Qin and I… Even if I didn’t take him away, someone else would. You should know that as well as I am.”

She loved Lu Qin, and she knew him well. Lu Qin did not love her or Su Muran; he loved what they brought him. But so what? She was with Lu Qin now, and that was all that mattered. As long as the Ye Family remained powerful, Lu Qin would remain by her side.

As for the Su Family… there was nothing more he could hope to gain from them, not to mention they had a new heir now.

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Su Muran’s little brother.

“Miss Su’s father is quite special to have a son at his age. Oh,” she chuckled. “I almost forgot to congratulate you.”

Su Muran clutched at his legs. A dizzy spell overcame her, and everything began to whirl in circles. She reached into her bag with shaky fingers and retrieved a pill bottle. Shaking like a leaf, she poured some medicine onto her hand and flung them at the back of her throat without even counting.

Sun Yuhan stirred her coffee unconcernedly.

Su Muran’s breathing steadied after a while, though her face was still as pale as a ghost. She knew that she needed another blood transfusion, but she didn’t want to. She hated it when someone else’s blood entered her. Blood was supposed to be warm, but the blood that flowed into her was icy cold. Sometimes, she didn’t even feel human. She felt like some sort of cold-blooded animal. Her body temperature was dropping, her movements were slowing, and even her hair was falling off. She hadn’t had her period in a while already.

Sometimes she felt as though death was right around the corner. Humans naturally feared death—it had nothing to do with courage— it was instinct that followed a person from the moment they are born to the time they drew their last breath. She feared death. The thought of her not being able to breathe frightened her.

She looked up, the muscles on her face twitching. Right now, Su Muran was ugly to the point of hideousness.

“Just what do you want from me?” said Su Muran wanly. In the past, she would have grabbed the bitch and slapped her to death, or she wouldn’t be Su Muran.

But the Su Muran now was half-dead, and she couldn’t even find the strength to lift her hand, much less do more.

Sun Yuhan picked up the cup and sipped casually. The wait was a form of torture. She set down her cup.

She then studied Su Muran’s face intently, scouring for some sort of similarities. In the end, she couldn’t find anything in her skeletal face.

If only Yan Huan’s face would turn into this state too! How wonderful would that be!

She slowly put her cup down again and leaned on one elbow.

“Apart from Lu Yi, there’s another person who has the same blood type as you. Don’t tell me you don’t know that yet?”

“Yan Huan,” said Su Muran with spite after a pause. Yes, Yan Huan.

She narrowed her eyes and glared at the woman before her.

“What are you trying to say?”

“Nothing,” replied Sun Yuhan with a cryptic smile. “I’m not trying to say anything. All I’m trying to do is save you. I owe you that much.”

What she thought was: Look at your dying self! Even your family abandoned you—why wouldn’t Lu Qin?

Su Muran grabbed her bag and fished out the pill bottle. She tried to grip it, but it slipped right out from her hand.

She bent down and scooped up the bottle. The end of her finger tips felt numb. Death was knocking on her door.

Sun Yuhan played with the mug and looked at her with piteous eyes, as though she was looking at some kind of lower life form. Her sympathy, above everything else, was a crushing blow to Su Muran.

She was Su Muran, the best actress who had once taken the country-no, the world-by a storm! She didn’t need anyone’s sympathy or pity. She couldn’t stand those eyes that looked at her as though she was a corpse.

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