Perfect Substitution
"It's all right," Fei Yichen consoled himself as he looked at the sharp blade. It perfectly reflected the light of the moon, giving it a lustrous glow.
For the last time, he looked at the paper in his hand. It had the drawing of Le fang ling and also her 'autograph' or whatnot, according to Le fang ling.
"Well, you served your purpose," he sighed as he threw the paper on the ground next to him. It landed right at his feet, but he could care less about it now. Taking a deep breath, he placed the sword right under his neck.
Gulp!
He swallowed the saliva as he felt the cold sharpness of the naked sword against the skin of his neck. His adam's apple bobbed up and down in nervousness. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead and trickled down his face.
It was easy to think to commit suicide, but it was equally hard to act upon those thoughts.
Boom!