“You need to know your limits with this jealousy! This is too much!” Wen Tingyan’s expression suggested he had reached the end of his patience.
“I’m not jealous.” She looked at him seriously. “Wen Tingyan, from the beginning to the end, what I’ve been saying is…”
“Enough!” Wen Tingyan’s sharp rebuke cut her off.
Luo Yucheng’s loyal follower Awen shielded Luo Yucheng while speaking to Wen Tingyan. “Brother Yan, since sister-in-law doesn’t welcome us for dinner at home, let’s just eat out.”
Wen Tingyan probably felt he had completely lost face in front of his former lover and friends. He stood motionless, but his eyes bore into Jian Zhi. “Jian Zhi, apologize to Cheng Cheng. Apologize to everyone. We’re all reasonable people here. Just apologize, and we can let bygones be bygones.”
We?
These past few days, “we” had become the word Jian Zhi hated hearing most.
Yes, you are you. Those who walk different paths cannot make plans together – there’s no need for us to sit together for a meal.
She shook her head. “No.”
Wen Tingyan’s face instantly turned ashen. “Fine, Jian Zhi. Don’t regret this.”
Without another word to her, he led the entire group away – the same crowd that had arrived with such fanfare now departed in the same manner.
Jian Zhi stood in place, surveying everything in the room. This space that had once made her feel Wen Tingyan had put effort into creating a home for them both now seemed to bear Luo Yucheng’s name etched into every inch.
With a forceful swing of her arm, the floor lamp beside her crashed down. After a loud bang, glass shards scattered everywhere.
“Madam!” Aunt Chen exclaimed in alarm, rushing forward to support her, afraid she might step on the broken glass.
She pushed Aunt Chen away and walked toward the rows of dolls.
She had never held any particular fondness for Venice Dolls, though she had been touched by Wen Tingyan’s thoughtfulness at the time. But now, the grinning dolls seemed to be mocking her!
She swung her arm forcefully again, sending all the dolls crashing to the floor.
Then came the dining table, the carpet, the glass windows…
Aunt Chen had witnessed everything that happened today. Seeing Jian Zhi still scanning for more targets, she panicked and rushed forward to embrace her. “Madam, this isn’t necessary! Don’t act impulsively. Even if you break and smash everything, it won’t change anything. The master will only think you’re being even more unreasonable.”
Held tightly in Aunt Chen’s arms, Jian Zhi struggled fiercely a few times but couldn’t break free. Her strength eventually gave out, and she collapsed into Aunt Chen’s embrace, feeling waves of pain continuing to wash over her.
She didn’t want this.
She didn’t want to grieve, didn’t want to hurt anymore.
But this sorrow and pain weren’t emotional reactions – they were physiological responses she couldn’t control.
For instance, she could tell herself: Jian Zhi, stop crying.
And she could stop crying.
But when she told herself: Jian Zhi, stop hurting.
Her body wouldn’t listen.
Aunt Chen rubbed her back firmly. “Madam, if you’re sad, just cry. Have a good cry.”
Jian Zhi didn’t.
At this moment, she truly had no tears left.
“Aunt Chen, I’m sorry for causing you trouble. Please clean up the floor. As for these dolls…” She thought for a moment. “Have a delivery service send them to the master’s office for display.”
“Okay, okay, it’s no trouble at all.” Aunt Chen quickly agreed, supporting her weight with effort.
But Jian Zhi made an effort to stand up. “Then make me some Beef and Broccoli with half a corn. Nothing else.”
Aunt Chen didn’t question her eating so little, merely watching her retreating figure hobble back to the room.
Pain was something Jian Zhi wasn’t afraid of.
Having practiced dance since childhood, how many injuries had she endured? How much sweat had she shed? Was there no pain in any of that?
During her Kang Fu after the car accident, every step taken to stand again felt like treading on thorns—wasn’t that painful?
Hadn’t she always moved forward while enduring pain?
That evening, Wen Tingyan didn’t return.
Jian Zhi had no intention of waiting for him. After methodically completing her own tasks, she received a message from Teacher Zhao before bed, inviting her to watch a performance the following evening.
If someone had invited her to a show just a few days earlier, she might have even considered it offensive, but not now.
She immediately agreed, making plans with Teacher Zhao to have dinner first before attending the dance drama.
Tomorrow was truly a day to look forward to, so she must get a good night’s sleep tonight!
But how could one sleep soundly when feeling so exhilarated?
She woke multiple times throughout the night, this restless excitement persisting until the following afternoon.
She knew the IELTS results wouldn’t be available until after 2 PM, yet she couldn’t resist checking her email repeatedly, refreshing the official website intermittently.
This anxiety lasted until the afternoon when the notification email finally arrived. She immediately logged into the official website, and when the overall score of 7 flashed before her eyes, she could hardly believe it!
She knew she had performed reasonably well, but she hadn’t dared to hope for this. She’d been telling herself that 6.5 would satisfy her—6.5 was sufficient for arts programs. Her previous test half a year ago had only yielded a 6…
Clutching her phone, she fell backward onto the bed, tears streaming down her face in an instant.
This time, it wasn’t for Wen Tingyan, nor for this marriage, but for the significant step she had taken toward her dream.
Five years.
Five years of reading English novels to pass time, listening to English programs, watching English films, and working through practice questions—all of it glittered with meaning at this moment.
Having slept poorly the previous night, now with the results finalized and her mind at ease, she took a nap. By evening, she felt refreshed and ready to meet her teacher.
When she emerged from her room and appeared in the living room, she saw the astonished look in Aunt Chen’s eyes.
Because today she was wearing a long dress and had put on makeup.
For five years, she had hardly ever worn dresses and rarely applied makeup.
A leg full of scars that couldn’t walk properly had confined not only her physical space but also her innate desire for beauty—she had feared she wasn’t worthy…
“You look beautiful, ma’am,” Aunt Chen’s admiring gaze couldn’t lie. “Where are you going?”
“I’m watching a performance with my teacher,” Jian Zhi replied, though she still felt somewhat apprehensive. The dress reached almost to her ankles, and she even wore stockings—this way, the scars on her legs wouldn’t be visible.
Politely declining Aunt Chen’s suggestion to accompany her once again, she stepped out, feeling both the excitement and trepidation of a young deer emerging from deep mountains into the human world.
Dinner with her teacher consisted of local dishes—light, fresh, and sweet—perfectly suited to her taste.
Afterward, they went together to the theater.
Tonight’s performance was by the Haicheng Dance Troupe, presenting a classic repertoire that Jian Zhi had danced countless times during her school days.
As the music began, the dancing soul deep within her was awakened.
Though she sat beneath the stage, though she might never set foot on it again in this lifetime, the tips of her feet couldn’t help but lightly tap the floor in rhythm with the music—a muscle memory etched deep within her body…
When the final curtain fell, she remained in the audience seats, listening to the thunderous applause, watching spectators line up one after another to present flowers to the dancers. She couldn’t hold back another wave of tears.
Not from sorrow, not from pain, and certainly not from despair.
But from the resonance between dance itself and her very soul.
It had once been her passion, her greatest love.
And she had forgotten it for five long years.