His disheveled appearance made her heart ache painfully, yet she also despised him for his humble attempts to please others, which only made him seem pitiful. Half asleep, he woke up groggily, turned over, and hugged her tightly, murmuring in her ear like he was in a dream, “Baby, I won’t let you suffer anymore, and I won’t let you terminate our child again!” How could that incident not be a lingering pain in his heart? Unlike other couples who just talked about getting married after graduation without doing anything, he had proven his commitment through actions, intending to give her a stable home once they graduated. How naive he was back then, already treating her as his own, hoping they could support each other until the end. Why hadn’t she understood? Why hadn’t she been more considerate? It was only after all these years that she realized his true intentions. If she hadn’t been so stubborn that day and had left him a note, life might have been tougher, but at least they wouldn’t have parted ways! But—alas, it was too late; time could not be turned back. What good was this sudden realization now? The mistakes were already made, and they could never go back. Yet, the more she thought about it, the more resentful she became, her nose tingling as she bent her knees and squatted down, sobbing. Jiayi squatted beside her, extending his hand but then pulling it back. They remained like that for a long time until Jiayi finally choked out, “Don’t cry, I didn’t mean to make you cry. If you don’t want to hear it, then pretend you didn’t. Laiwei, no matter what, I’ll wait for you until you’re willing to marry me, or—marry someone else!”
She lifted her head, supporting herself with one hand on the grass, the cool dew dampening her palm, the fresh scent of grass reviving her spirits. She no longer looked at Xie Jiayi, got up, and ran towards the parking lot to find her car, driving away from the hospital as if escaping. Jiayi stood there, bewildered, thinking she had clearly rejected him, or perhaps she was just avoiding him. Life had been so tumultuous for her, and all she wanted was to live a peaceful life, avoiding any surprises. For any unexpected event might hurt her again. She had truly changed; once she loved him recklessly, refusing him repeatedly yet never giving up, but now she was timid, only knowing how to flee. He stared directly at the streetlights in the parking lot; the darkness was only suitable for two souls to cling to each other, they evidently should find a brighter place to talk, so they could see each other’s hearts clearly.
“It seems like, apart from making her cry, you have no other skills!” A distant figure approached, and he recognized the mocking voice—it was Zhou Yuqian. “You? What are you doing here?” Jiayi angrily interrogated, not knowing how much he had seen, and then, fearing he might trouble Laiwei, he deflatedly added, “Even though I made her cry, she still rejected me!” Hearing this, Zhou Yuqian, for some reason, felt a slight relief. He had come on a whim to pick her up but stumbled upon them in the shadows of the parking lot. He waited and waited, only to see Laiwei crying as she ran to her car, likely heartbroken, passing by his car without noticing him. The feeling of being ignored was unpleasant, but he knew it wasn’t wise to approach her at that moment. Zhou Yuqian, with one hand in his suit pocket, his tall figure standing in the shadows, exuded an oppressive aura directly confronting Xie Jiayi. “Is she really that important to you?” “There’s nothing more important!” Jiayi stood his ground as Zhou Yuqian approached, unflinching, not the same Jiayi from a few years ago; now, Zhou Yuqian posed no threat to him. “Oh—” Zhou Yuqian mockingly drawled, taunting him, “If something so important is out of reach, the outcome could be quite tragic, don’t you think?” “That’s still better than some people who hold onto something they don’t truly care about!” Jiayi retorted with a light laugh, “But this gives me a bit more of a chance!” Zhou Yuqian’s face remained calm, but his anger intensified. He restrained himself and said, “If she comes back to me, disregarding the formalities, and continues with me, you know we get along very well!” This was purely to save face; he had no confidence, especially knowing Laiwei would never disregard formalities with him. Moreover, he had never considered giving her anything more than money. Jiayi did not react with the expected anger but instead sneered, taunting him, “If you knew her, you’d know she could never be with you. Chairman Zhou, with your status and background, do you think she would entertain the fantasy of a sparrow turning into a phoenix?” Sensing his opponent’s weakening, he pressed on, “Even if you were to win her over, she might not believe it. To put it bluntly, your title means less to her than the seven million in your contract.” Zhou Yuqian was momentarily speechless, only able to let Jiayi mock him at will: “You once said we are of the same kind. I completely agree; even if you love, you love selfishly, cherishing the tranquil life she gives you; whereas I love too much, to the point of dominance, wanting her to lose herself. In the end, we both love cowardly, neither of us worthy of her; but I can change for her, can you?” Jiayi’s tone suddenly turned scornful, “Think about how your divorce was publicized, and how your remarriage would be the same. Can you really be so great as to give up your status and reputation for a marriage?” Jiayi concluded and left, leaving Zhou Yuqian alone with a knot in his chest, unable to express his frustration, almost driving him to madness. He was always calm and collected, but at this moment, he wanted to run wildly, to vent his frustration freely. He had indeed overdone it; Laiwei was someone he had bought, how could he rely on her, live like a husband, and even linger there? What hurt him more was that she wasn’t sincere; as Xie Jiayi said, she had never loved him, nor would she ever, only treating it as a job, adhering to professional ethics. It was truly ironic; this was what he had once desired, but now it was all messed up. Once again, he felt powerless, overwhelmed by this helplessness. The windows were wide open, the white curtains billowing in the west wind, likely because Zhou Yuqian had only drawn the curtains but forgotten to close the window when he left. Laiwei approached the window to close it, pulling aside the curtains, and saw a pale yellow moon emerging, its faint light gently floating in the gaps between the clouds.
