Her heart felt as if struck by a heavy blow. Shang Li wondered if she was hallucinating, blinking in confusion as she asked, “What?”
Shi Jing put down the mirror, placed both hands on Shang Li’s shoulders, and looked her straight in the eyes. “You heard me right. The person in here isn’t Shang Li at all! The Shang Li I remember may seem cold on the surface, but she helped me search for my lost documents during the critical art exam period and stayed with me when my family was sick.”
“She never withers or ages. She remains forever young and warm.”
“All the decay and ugliness you see now are shadows cast by Meng Yuan. That isn’t you not the real you!”
“But Shang Li, staying in the shadows for too long will cause a person to rot and decay. You have to step out. You have to stand in the sunlight! You need to see who you truly are!”
Cracks began to form across Shang Li’s expression, one after another, as countless emotions surged within, threatening to burst through her composure and bring forth a flood of sorrow.
So, she wasn’t just this gloomy, unsettling rainy day she could also be the gentle sunlight of early spring.
“Shi Jing!”
Knock, knock, knock!
Someone tapped lightly on the car window. It was Shi Jing’s agent, a young and strikingly beautiful woman.
“My dear, why haven’t you come down yet? We’ve arrived.”
The serious atmosphere shattered instantly. Shi Jing hissed through gritted teeth, “How many times have I told you not to call me that? It’s disgusting. Fine, I’m coming down right now.”
Turning back, she saw the person in the car biting her lip to stifle a laugh. Clenching her fists, Shi Jing radiated murderous intent. “What’s so funny? If you hadn’t been wallowing in self-pity, would I have had to say all those nauseating, mushy things? Yuck!”
After venting in one breath, Shi Jing angrily yanked the car door open but paused abruptly. She turned back to Shang Li, a flicker of seriousness crossing her face. “Even if it was nauseating and mushy, everything I said was true.”
“I know.”
In the main hall of the evening banquet, light and shadow danced, and everywhere one looked, there were elegantly dressed figures and the clinking of glasses. Though billed as a charity event, it felt more like a glamorous stage for fame and fortune.
Small groups clustered around business magnates and superstars, hoping for a chance to strike up a conversation.
Shang Li found a quiet corner, holding a glass of wine and taking small sips. Her gaze drifted through the bustling, shifting crowd, back and forth, but ultimately settled on Meng Yuan.
Meng Yuan stood at the center of the hall, surrounded by people on all sides embracing, toasting, even the host of the banquet made their way through the throng to greet her. Many eyes in the room lingered on her, tracing her every move.
She was the focal point, the one around whom stars revolved.
She was the distant horizon Shang Li could never reach, no matter how hard she strained her eyes, unless Meng Yuan turned back.
A slight buzz from the wine set in, and Shi Jing’s earlier words echoed involuntarily in her mind.
All the decay and ugliness she carried were shadows cast by Meng Yuan.
How had they become shadows?
Once, it was Meng Yuan who had brought her sunlight and nourishment, nurturing the lonely, love-starved Shang Li.
Yes, that was all in the past. Now, Meng Yuan had gradually flown beyond her territory, taking with her all the sounds, colors, and vitality.
She could only regard this as a natural part of migration.
Yet, on this journey, Meng Yuan had flown too far, so far that the end was nowhere in sight. Shang Li didn’t know when she would return, or if she could even wait until that day.
Perhaps she shouldn’t rely on Meng Yuan’s return anymore. She needed to set out and find the sunlight herself.
Her consciousness flickered, and she suddenly felt an intense, focused gaze. When she looked up, it had already vanished into the crowd.
From where she stood, she couldn’t catch even a glimpse of Meng Yuan’s clothing.
Tilting her head back, Shang Li took a swig of alcohol, swallowing it slowly as she played a childish game with herself one utterly unbecoming of her age.
She counted silently in her heart, wondering at which second Meng Yuan would turn to look at her, just like before.
She needed some proof, no matter how absurd, ridiculous, or foolish, to convince herself that Meng Yuan still loved her.
Otherwise, she feared she wouldn’t be able to endure the night, that she’d break her promise, the one she’d made to the 21-year-old Meng Yuan.
In less than six hours, it would be their tenth anniversary. There was nothing worth celebrating; she’d just treat it as a small gift to herself.
The host’s voice echoed through the venue, announcing the official start of the banquet. Guests began taking their seats.
A purple-tinged light enveloped the entire scene, with candle flames flickering, casting a hazy, dreamlike glow on everyone’s faces.
Shang Li narrowed her eyes slightly. Occasionally, a few figures passed by, obstructing her view. Staring at one spot for too long made her eyes ache, tired and dry.
Meng Yuan, as always, was seated at the front table, surrounded either by renowned entrepreneurs or international superstars.
From Shang Li’s perspective, she could only see half of Meng Yuan’s profile, partially hidden behind her long hair. As she turned to converse, strands of hair fell, and a faint, composed smile lingered on her lips captivating and serene.
After several performances, the auction began, and the atmosphere grew increasingly fervent. With each escalating bid, the excitement peaked.
A slender, jade-like arm slowly raised a bidding paddle, the movement exuding elegance and nobility.
Shang Li had no means to participate in such bidding wars; she could only donate within her means.
As ten o’clock approached, the banquet drew to a close. Many had already left when she finally received a message from Meng Yuan: 【I’m at the back door of the main hall. I’ll take you back.】
A wave of melancholy and swelling emotion surged within her, crashing relentlessly against the fragile, crumbling dam of her composure.
The entire evening had passed, and she still hadn’t received that small gift.
Mindful of Meng Yuan’s work the next day, she suppressed her feelings and calmly replied, “Okay.”
Stepping outside, she realized it was raining. The steady patter of rain formed continuous lines, and puddles dotted the uneven road, gleaming brightly under the streetlights.
Shang Li opened her umbrella and strode toward the black business car they had arrived in. The car door opened before she reached it.
Glancing briefly inside, she saw only the driver, Kou Jia, and Meng Yuan.
Shang Li leaned halfway into the car while closing her umbrella.
Suddenly, she froze. Something slipped from her neck.
The ring!
On that stormy night, it fell to the ground with a faint ding so soft, yet it sent massive ripples through Shang Li’s heart.
Her breath caught abruptly, panic clawing at her thoughts, blinding her vision and deafening her ears. Her mind buzzed incessantly.
The entire incident lasted only seconds, but her body reacted first bending down to search for the lost ring in the streaming rainwater.
“What’s wrong?” Meng Yuan asked.
“The ring, the ring is gone!” Shang Li was frantic, her words tumbling out incoherently. With no sign of the ring in sight, she grew as helpless as a child, repeating insistently, “I hung it up properly, how could it have fallen? It’s gone, what happened? It should be right here.”
Meng Yuan: “What ring? If you can’t find it, then—”
“It’s not just any ring, it’s the one you gave me back then, in that rented apartment, that day.” Shang Li rambled on, detailing everything meticulously, trying to emphasize its importance and persuade Meng Yuan not to give up.
“Sister Shang Li, don’t panic. I’ll help you look for it.” Hearing this, Kou Jia quickly turned on her flashlight, got out of the car, and stood beside Shang Li. “Is it around here?”
Shang Li nodded, her eyes stinging with unshed tears, and managed a hurried thank-you in her distress.
Under the bright light, her face was drained of color, a pallor that even makeup couldn’t conceal.
The rain grew heavier, the puddles on the ground swelling and rushing more fiercely. Their feet sank completely into the rainwater, and the incessant splashes quickly soaked the hems of their skirts.
Yet Shang Li felt none of the chill. Her blood boiled with anxiety, her thoughts and gaze fixed solely on the ring lost somewhere unknown.
“It’s just that thing, it’s not even valuable. If it’s lost, it’s lost. Hurry up and get in the car. Stop looking.”
Meng Yuan’s words drifted through the air like a faint, misty haze, dismissive and indifferent.
Like a sudden blow to the head, it jolted Shang Li awake.
A light breeze brushed past, and Shang Li shivered, the cold piercing to the bone. She slowly lifted her head, staring fixedly at Meng Yuan, her ashen lips trembling slightly as she asked in disbelief, “What did you just say?”
Meng Yuan licked her still-beautiful red lips, but the words that escaped were wrapped in endless coldness and impatience. She raised her voice, making each syllable crystal clear to Shang Li.
“I said, if you can’t find it, forget it. I’ll just buy you another one, okay?”
“Do you really understand what you’re saying?”