“Xiao Li, break up with her, okay?”
Lai Yanmei’s words pulled Shang Li back to reality. She wanted to shake her head, but when she looked up, she froze. Lai Yanmei’s eyes were red from crying. Beneath the makeup washed away by tears, her skin appeared loose and wrinkled. Among her disheveled black hair, strands of white were hidden.
It was as if she had become a completely different person overnight.
Receiving no response, Lai Yanmei couldn’t hold back her sobs. “You’ve ended up like this because we failed you. It’s all my fault.”
“All these years, I’ve been wondering, if I had separated from your father earlier and given you a warm, happy home, would you have been so resistant to marriage? Would you have been so starved for affection and easily moved?”
“Xiao Li, it’s better to have a short, sharp pain than a long, drawn-out one. I’m begging you, if it’s not right, let’s not force it, okay? It doesn’t matter if you made the wrong choice back then. If you like girls, that’s fine too. I won’t stop you anymore. Let’s find someone else, okay?”
“I don’t have many wishes left now. I just want to see my daughter happy. So that when my time comes, I can.”
“Mom, what are you talking about?” Shang Li spoke, feeling a cold, bitter liquid trickle into the seam of her lips.
“Alright, I won’t say anymore.” Lai Yanmei smiled weakly, grabbing a tissue to wipe her tears, her eyes filled with heartache. “Xiao Li, you must have had a really hard time these past few months, haven’t you?”
Was it hard?
Shang Li asked herself, but before she could speak, tears fell first. She opened her mouth, but no sound came out.
“It’s not that I want to force you,” Lai Yanmei softened her voice, “but you’re clearly not happy. I can’t just stand by and watch you sink deeper. You still have a long life ahead of you. It’s better to cut the knot quickly.”
Break up? Was she really going to break up with Meng Yuan?
Just imagining the scenario made Shang Li’s heart ache so much she could hardly breathe, as if a rusty, blunt knife were sawing through it.
Lai Yanmei gazed at her pleadingly, her own heart equally torn.
Shang Li cried until she was convulsing, her nose too blocked to breathe, forcing her to rely on her mouth. She couldn’t answer Lai Yanmei’s plea. After a long while, she finally mumbled, “Mom, I’ll think it over carefully and talk to Meng Yuan.”
“Good, good.” Lai Yanmei nodded repeatedly, pulling her into an embrace. “There are plenty of fish in the sea. There’s no need to tie ourselves to just one tree.”
There won’t be anymore.
Shang Li shook her head silently, thinking with grief and despair.
There will never be anyone else.
At thirty, she had achieved nothing, and now she was even burdening her mother with her love life.
Shang Li, oh Shang Li, you really are regressing as you age.
The words from back then seemed to have foreshadowed something, and now they had come true.
This relationship seemed to have truly reached its end.
She should have been prepared for this long ago. So why, at this moment of decision, was it still so difficult and painful?
“Meng Yuan, let’s break.”
“Meng Yuan, let’s break, break.”
She rehearsed it over and over, but the final words remained stuck in her throat, as if making one last plea to hold on.
“Meng Yuan, we…” Shang Li took a deep breath, gathering her resolve like a babbling infant, enunciating each word slowly, “Let’s break up.”
As the words left her mouth, an overwhelming wave of sorrow crashed over her, unstoppable, as if determined to destroy everything in its path.
Shang Li tightened the blanket around herself, trembling uncontrollably as her teeth chattered. A sudden surge of panic made her desperate to grasp onto something.
Just then, her phone chimed twice.
[Email: A letter from Meng Yuan written to you seven years ago. Come see what she had to say back then.]
Distant memories slowly resurfaced.
Seven years ago, Meng Yuan had just graduated. At that time, her relationship with her family still hadn’t been repaired, and the path originally laid out for her had completely collapsed.
They were nestled in a rented apartment in the suburbs, a small one-bedroom, one-living-room place, but cozy and painted a bright yellow.
That day…
What was once a beautiful memory now only brought confusion and regret.
Shang Li stared at the letter for a long time without opening it. She truly didn’t know how to face the Meng Yuan from seven years ago.
But that was the Meng Yuan from seven years ago to her, it was utterly captivating.
Whether it was trying to stop boiling water by scooping it out or quenching thirst with poison, the unknown was inherently intriguing, wasn’t it?
[Dear Shang Li,
Hello, sister from seven years in the future!
This is a letter from Meng Yuan in 2018, and I might ramble a bit. So please, sister in 2025, be patient and read it all the way through.
Time flies so fast in the blink of an eye, seven years have passed. It feels so long, doesn’t it? Why did I think of writing to you seven years from now? Because in another seven years, it will be the tenth year that you and I have been together! How many decades does a person have in their life? Just thinking about how I’ll occupy one-third, one-half, or even the rest of your life makes me so incredibly happy.
Oh, and today is also your birthday. Speaking of which, I’m actually a little sad. It’s not that I don’t want to celebrate with you, but right now, I truly have nothing not even anything worthwhile. I can’t even give you a proper birthday celebration. Luckily, I finally thought of a solution, whew! But don’t worry, sister. Once I become famous and make a lot of money, I’ll give you a better life and celebrate every birthday with you!
By the time you read this letter, it’ll be your 29th birthday. Needless to say, I’ll definitely be by your side. Will we read this letter together and reminisce about today, seven years ago? I’m sure we will.
Lastly, please believe that whether it’s the Meng Yuan from seven years ago or the Meng Yuan from seven years later, I will always love Shang Li, my dear sister. It’s okay if you doubt me, I’ll keep proving it to you. After all, we still have plenty of time, right?
One last thing Meng Yuan at 21 years old is here, congratulating Meng Yuan at 28 and Shang Li at 29 on their tenth anniversary in advance! If, during these ten years, any version of me makes a mistake, hurts you, or makes you unhappy, could you forgive me just once? Please, since I love you so much, give me a chance. I’m begging you!
And one more thing, ahhh, I’m not done yet! Why are you rushing me? Yes, I started crying while writing this and hid in the bathroom. Don’t laugh at me! Okay, that’s all for now.
Wishing
Shang Li and Meng Yuan eternal love, growing old together!
Love,
Meng Yuan
June 27, 2018]
The vivid words brushed away the dust of long-buried memories. Shang Li let out a sudden laugh, but the next moment, she realized her cheeks were wet with tears, a bittersweet nostalgia tinged with sorrow.
Can the world truly be so coincidental? One moment she was rehearsing a farewell, and the next, the gears of fate spun her back to the starting point.
Two Meng Yuans resided in her heart.
Two Meng Yuans tugging at a single version of her.
A version of her who had walked from 2015 to 2025, a journey of ten years.
The only version of her.
Sometimes, it was hard not to despise Meng Yuan.
Why, why did you have to become the person you are now?
Both had lived through the same ten years, so why had she remained unchanged? Why was she the only one holding on?
Was it simply because the first to boil must also be the first to cool?
The shadows cast upon her by time left Shang Li with too many unanswered questions.
And now, the person she hated most had become herself.
Why couldn’t she let go? She knew this person had changed, knew their bond had almost vanished.
Let’s part ways.
Maybe it’s time to part ways.
The 28-year-old Meng Yuan remained silent, her gaze alone enough to shatter her.
But the 21-year-old Meng Yuan wept until her eyes were soaked, clutching the last shred of hope, her breath faint as she pleaded, “Sister, can you forgive me one more time? Give me one more chance, I beg you.”
Shang Li’s heart tightened. The two Meng Yuan’s hid in the folds of her mind, no sooner had one settled than the other stirred.
She shouldn’t waver. What was past should stay in the past.
She couldn’t bring the 21-year-old Meng Yuan into the future.
The 21-year-old Meng Yuan had long since died in the depths of time. This brief resurrection was nothing but a beautiful dream, one she couldn’t live on.
Glistening tears pooled into tiny puddles. When she looked again, those tender words seemed blurred, false, and piercingly cold.
Shang Li gritted her teeth, closed the app, and silently bid her farewell in her heart.
But the moment she closed her eyes, those words seemed to come alive, seeping relentlessly into her mind, occupying the cracks left by hesitation, trying to pry them open wider, wide enough to accommodate the present Meng Yuan.
Reason fought against the turmoil, and Shang Li’s head throbbed with pain, nearly unbearable. Fortunately, a timely phone call rescued her.
Answering it, she realized it was Wen Tang, Meng Yuan’s agent, who immediately asked if Meng Yuan was home.
Shang Li paused, then murmured, “No.”
“Then where the hell is she?” Wen Tang cursed without restraint, her frustration palpable even through the phone. “She skipped the shoot, no one can find her at the company, and today, who knows who provoked her? She went off to settle scores, and we’re left cleaning up her mess. It’s infuriating. Why did I ever agree to manage?”
Shang Li listened quietly, saying nothing.
The outcome was inevitable they were bound to part ways. What did Meng Yuan’s affairs have to do with her now?
Yet a sharp, subtle pain pricked at her heart again.
After venting enough, Wen Tang asked, “Has Meng Yuan contacted you?”
Shang Li replied, “No.”
“Oh, heavens! Where could she have gone so late at night?” Wen Tang sighed in distress, then suddenly gasped. “Oh no, she couldn’t have actually gone to find Zhou Kai’an, could she?!”
Shang Li’s temple twitched, and she couldn’t help but ask, “Why would she look for Zhou Kai’an?”
Wen Tang sounded puzzled. “Didn’t you see the hot search from this afternoon?”
“I saw it,” Shang Li said. “But wasn’t it fake?”
Wen Tang said, “Exactly, it’s obviously fake. Things like this have happened before just issue a statement to clarify and give a warning, and that should be it. But for some reason, this time Meng Yuan seemed possessed. She insisted on tracking down the mastermind behind it, oh, that’s Zhou Kaian, the other person in the video.”
Shang Li narrowed her eyes in thought, vaguely recalling the phone call that afternoon. Meng Yuan had mentioned she was dealing with something could it be this matter?
Wen Tang continued, “She didn’t leave Zhou Kaian any face at all, right in front of the paparazzi. Zhou Kaian has collaborated with her on two projects so far: one is about to be released, and the other has just started preparation. Because of this incident, she’s stubbornly demanding a replacement either he goes or she goes. She doesn’t even consider who arranged for Zhou Kaian to be here. So, single-minded.”
Unconsciously, Wen Tang had rambled on quite a bit. Suddenly snapping back to reality, she remembered the main point and hurriedly said, “If Meng Yuan comes back, let me know,” before hanging up.
Shang Li agreed, then stared blankly at the darkened phone screen, her thoughts rippling slightly.
Why did Meng Yuan do that?
Was she angry because she was afraid Shang Li would misunderstand?
Impossible.
How could that be?
Shang Li shook her head self-deprecatingly and dismissed the possibility in just a second.
What if the cause and effect were reversed? Could it be that Meng Yuan deliberately blew this incident out of proportion because she didn’t want to go to dinner?
That seemed to make more sense.
Only by thinking this way could she completely seal off that faint crack of hesitation.
Bang!
The sound of the door closing echoed as Meng Yuan returned.