Yu Xiaogang saw there was no hope and could only nod silently.
Then he walked toward the door.
When he reached it and gripped the handle with one hand, he suddenly stopped.
Then he spoke calmly,
"Twenty years, Bibi Dong."
"You're still as beautiful as ever, but I've already grown old."
"If it were you I was doing this for, I would have reacted the same way."
"After all, you were the first person I ever loved."
"Bullshit."
Bibi Dong's body trembled violently.
"You know how to love?"
"You don't deserve to say that word!"
"If you loved me, would you have left me?"
"Would you rather be with your own sister?"
"You bastard, get out!"
"Why I left you back then—you shouldn't ask me. You should ask the late Pope."
"Heartless and faithless. You've always used those words to describe me in your heart, haven't you?"
"Think whatever you want, Bibi Dong."
"This is the last time I'll call you that."
"Since you refuse to help me, then our bond ends here."
He yanked open the door and strode away.
Pope Bibi Dong's body swayed violently.
It seemed that without the support of her scepter,
she would collapse.
She hated Yu Xiaogang. She had hated him for a full twenty years.
To sustain such hatred for so long—what did that mean? It meant that her love for him had once run that deep.
Yu Xiaogang's words before leaving suddenly cracked open a fissure in the hatred within her heart.
As she recalled everything the previous Pope had taught her, along with all that had happened in the past,
the truth obscured by hatred gradually surfaced in her heart.
The scene before her eyes gradually blurred.
The Pope's hand gripping the scepter had turned pale from exertion.
"Was this fate