“Lin Jian, do you really not love me anymore?”
“Yes, I no longer love you. The past is the past, and the present is the present! How can words spoken long ago be taken seriously?”
The floor lamp cast a soft circle of light around them. Meng Yuan’s face was half-shadowed in darkness, cold and unfeeling, her words even more chilling and cruel.
Shang Li’s eyes reddened abruptly, tears silently streaming down her face as she choked back sobs, unable to utter the next line.
“Wow, sis, you acted so well!” Meng Yuan moved closer, pulling a tissue to wipe her tears, her expression instantly softening, her dark pupils sparkling. “I genuinely got chills just now.”
Shang Li remained silent, turning away to wrap her arms around herself, her shoulders trembling slightly. Her emotions were still trapped in those lines, and sorrowful tears continued to fall unceasingly.
Only then did Meng Yuan realize something was wrong and panicked, pressing close to Shang Li’s back and holding her tightly. “Sis, what’s wrong? That was just acting! It wasn’t real! How could I possibly not love you?!”
The voice whispering in her ear coaxed her for a long time before Shang Li gradually managed to stem the flood of tears, mumbling out her worries, “But what if one day we end up like them.”
“Impossible!” Meng Yuan’s tone grew firmer, leaving no room for doubt. “First of all, I’m not Lin Jian, I promise I would never change my heart. Second, if there ever comes a day when you stop loving me, I’ll find a way to make you fall in love with me all over again.”
“I…” Shang Li’s delicate brows furrowed slightly, her melancholy unresolved. “I was just thinking, what if we also face the seven-year itch someday?”
“Sis, you’re worrying over nothing.” Meng Yuan enveloped her hands in her own, and though she said this, she didn’t dismiss the concern lightly. After a moment’s thought, she continued, “Even if that day really comes, as long as we work together and communicate openly, after the period of coldness passes, we’ll surely welcome an even more passionate love.”
Thanks to Meng Yuan’s reassuring words, the worries in Shang Li’s heart dissipated like mist. She nodded gently, silently committing them to memory.
“Alright, sis, don’t be sad anymore. How about we act out a sweet scene next? Like this proposal? I’ll propose to you. Three, two, one, I’m starting now.”
Shang Li lowered her head with a faint smile, and as she lifted her gaze, she had already slipped into character.
“My dear, it’s been awhile since we first met,” Meng Yuan recited her lines with heartfelt emotion, love burgeoning wildly as she gradually merged with her character. “May I invite you to share the rest of my life in a new role? What I mean is, will you marry me?”
With these words, Meng Yuan knelt on one knee, gently holding her fingertips, looking up with features as exquisite as a painting, radiant and glowing.
Shang Li’s mind wavered slightly, and she unprofessionally slipped out of her character’s persona, her own emotions surfacing.
The warm, yellow light of the floor lamp resembled the fading dusk, with flowers blooming like a vast field before her eyes. Wisps of smoke rose from deep within the mist, birds returned to their nests, carrying the sun and moon as betrothal gifts.
Meng Yuan held her hand, bearing the warmth of everyday life and the romance of the mortal world.
“Okay,” she replied, clasping Meng Yuan’s hand in return, ready to share all the trivialities and emotions of their future lives together.
Meng Yuan’s smile deepened, sweet as melted honey, its intoxicating fragrance enveloping them.
Shang Li allowed herself to sink into the warmth of the moment, until a cool, metallic sensation brushed against her finger.
Lowering her head, she saw Meng Yuan sliding a plain band ring onto the middle finger of her left hand.
“Just now, you agreed to it yourself.” His cool lips pressed against the spot as Meng Yuan lifted his gaze, looking both innocent and sly. “My finances are limited right now, so this is all I can afford. When I have more money, I’ll personally replace it with a better one for you, sister.”
Her left hand seemed to lose control icy cold one moment, burning hot the next, mirroring the turbulent, surging waves of her heart, all dictated by the person before her, leaving her helpless.
“No need, this one is already the best.”
Later, she hung the ring around her neck, right over the spot closest to her heart.
That was Meng Yuan’s sincerity.
Sincerity is the most precious and priceless thing of all.
Sincerity is never false, yet it can change in an instant, and promises only hold weight when love is mutual.
This truth applies to anyone without exception, and Meng Yuan is no different. She is no different from the characters in a play merely an ordinary person in this fleeting world. How could she be expected to rise above worldly attachments?
Only she, who believed those words, was the one who became unbearably vulgar and utterly laughable.
Overwhelmed by sorrow, Shang Li tilted her head back to gaze at the dark, silent night sky and couldn’t help but let out a low, bitter laugh. The tasteless rain seized the chance to slip into her mouth, turning sour, astringent, salty, and bitter.
Through the misty rain, the road ahead seemed endlessly long. The nest she and Meng Yuan had painstakingly built together was now lost in the gray, murky night.
Memories of the past surfaced one after another in her mind, each detail gradually fading and decaying, no longer able to illuminate the path beneath her feet.
Yet, the overdrawn memories grew thinner and thinner, no longer able to sustain the faith she once held.
Tick tock, tick tock!
The clock showed half past twelve.
Shang Li stood still under the chandelier in the center of the living room, her gaze vacant and hollow as she watched the slender second-hand circle around again and again.
After nearly three hours of walking, the beautiful hem of her dress had gathered filth from the ground. Her slender high heels wobbled unsteadily as she trembled, the arch of her foot feeling as if it had detached from the rest, her heels rubbed raw, blood mingling with dirty water oozing out. The sharp, burning pain was most vivid there, followed closely by the ache in her heart.
Her heart had grown somewhat numb.
A puddle quickly formed on the floor, a murky yellow mix of roadside mud and airborne dust, filthy and repulsive.
It stood in stark contrast to the luxurious decor of the room, like a lost soul that had mistakenly wandered into someone else’s home, a pitiful sight.
Because of this, as she entered the bathroom, Shang Li didn’t even have the courage to glance at her reflection in the mirror.
Shi Jing had said that all her filth and decay were shadows cast by Meng Yuan.
She was afraid of seeing that version of Meng Yuan in her own eyes.
Warm water washed away the mud on her body, and the floral scent of shower gel filled the air.
No matter how hard she scrubbed, the damp smell of rain refused to fade, clinging to her like a persistent disease. It hid in every strand of hair, every pore, destined to stay with her for a long time.
As the water stopped, she wrapped a towel around her weary body. Shang Li picked up the hairdryer to dry her hair, her eyes fixed on the foggy mirror. Even though she had tidied herself up, why did the reflection still look so ugly?
Mechanically running her fingers through her hair, she stared blankly at the slightly clearer patches.
Strangely, this time, she didn’t think of avoiding it. She wanted to see more clearly, to look even closer!
Even if the truth was bloody and gruesome, she was willing to face it.
A surge of desperate resolve rose in her chest, and she resolutely raised her hand, wiping away the fog with all her might.
Her warm breath fogged the mirror, only for a new layer of condensation to form almost instantly. Shang Li gritted her teeth and continued wiping it away relentlessly.
Her eyes remained fixed on the reflection, swollen and red, almost bleeding, refusing to look away.
She needed to see herself clearly.
She needed to see Meng Yuan clearly.
She needed to see this relationship for what it was.
Tell me, are you happy?
Can’t you just pull yourself together?
Your teacher believes in you.
Xiao Li, some things are simply beyond our control. Don’t be afraid of giving your heart to the wrong person.
Shang Li, you have to move on. You have to step out into the sunlight.
The people connected to her formed a web, channeling these words deep into her consciousness, dense and overwhelming, like thick tentacles wrapping around every part of her, lifting her from the depths of the ocean, dragging her into the light.
She carried the expectations of everyone, and the gathered light dispelled the surrounding haze. Gradually, the world unfolded before her eyes, allowing her to glimpse herself.
This place was no longer the garden filled with blooming flowers and melodious birdsong. It was desolate, withered, and sick beyond cure.
Shang Li, are you really going to settle for this corner, trapped in this confined space?
Are you going to keep dancing in the shadow of Meng Yuan?
Are you going to keep living in this cage, one that bears the name of “love” but only tightens its binds around you?
Do you really want to go on like this forever?
The pain clung to her like a shadow, cycling endlessly, without respite.
Shang Li saw her reflection in the mirror shaking its head, her mind still screaming in protest.
Her relationship with Meng Yuan.
There was no turning back. It had to end here.