This thought had finally taken deep root in Shang Li’s heart, nurtured by repeated concessions and tolerance, tormented by the dual agony of honey-coated arsenic.
Yet, she still didn’t know when she would act on it.
A faint hook remained buried in her heart not as a tether, but as a promise she intended to keep.
June 27th arrived, marking their tenth anniversary.
She refused to be the one who went back on her word, the one who betrayed trust.
On this day, she would celebrate wholeheartedly with the 21-year-old Meng Yuan.
After this day, she would bid farewell to the 28-year-old Meng Yuan.
Her water-damaged phone was beyond repair. Shang Li removed the SIM card, carefully dried it, and inserted it into a backup phone. When she powered it on, there was still a signal, it worked.
Logging into her frequently used app accounts, countless messages flooded in all at once, one overlapping another before she could even read them.
In this era of data explosion, Meng Yuan was undoubtedly the darling of major platforms. So, seeing her name pop up didn’t surprise Shang Li in the slightest.
Especially since Meng Yuan occupied almost every one of her entertainment app follow lists.
Meng Yuan existed in videos and lived on in Shang Li’s heart through countless nights.
But this time, Shang Li didn’t click into each message as she usually would. Instead, she swiftly swiped them away.
Scrolling to the very bottom, she found several WeChat messages from various people, including Yu Sheng, whom she had just added as a friend today.
Frowning slightly, driven by faint confusion and curiosity, Shang Li opened their chat first.
Reading from the bottom up, all the messages were apologies and explanations.
Her bewilderment only grew until she reached the top, a screenshot of a chat that Yu Sheng had meant to retract but accidentally deleted.
Yu Sheng: “Has something happened between you and Shang Li, Senior?”
Senior: “It’s getting less and less meaningful.”
Yu Sheng: “Then, Senior, do you still love her?”
Senior: “No.”
Senior: “I can’t figure out what she wants anymore.”
Senior: “I’m tired.”
Meng Yuan.
It had to be you.
Of course, it would be you.
As if watching an incredibly humorous joke, Shang Li burst out laughing, giggling uncontrollably, tears streaming down her face without pause.
How ironic.
For three years, I walked alone. Everyone around me told me you were no good. I knew getting close to you meant embracing pain, yet I remained unrepentant, repeating the same mistakes again and again.
Even when I mustered all my strength to save myself, I still clung to a sliver of hope for you.
And you? So effortlessly, with just one move, you killed me.
Completely and utterly.
While I was sinking in the mire, struggling desperately, you had already withdrawn, watching coldly from the sidelines.
Did you find it amusing to watch me perform like a clown?
The freshly done nails, specially prepared for the banquet, snapped. Irises withered and fell into a pool of vivid crimson.
As the saying goes, the fingers are connected to the heart. The pain was so intense she lost her voice. Shang Li opened her mouth, gasping for air. In the 21-degree air-conditioned room, she was drenched in sweat, her clothes soaked.
It hurt!
It really, really hurt!
Clutching her bleeding finger as if cradling a stumbling infant, Shang Li wept helpless and aggrieved.
Why treat me like this?
What did I do wrong to deserve this?
Wasn’t it you who told me you would love me forever, that you would always be with me?
Wasn’t it you who said that as long as we worked hard together and communicated well.
I did everything exactly as you said.
And now you tell me you don’t love me anymore? What was the point of all my persistence over these three years?
All that so-called effort was nothing but self-inflicted humiliation.
A joke, what a colossal joke!
If you stopped loving me, why didn’t you tell me sooner? Why not let me leave with my dignity intact?
Does it bring you joy to see me so broken and defeated?
Overwhelming resentment surged through Shang Li, drowning her reason and numbing her pain.
She didn’t want to love Meng Yuan anymore never again.
The thought of breaking up had never been stronger, rising from her convulsing stomach all the way to her throat. Shang Li leaned over the edge of the bed, retching again and again, as if trying to expel all the grief from her body.
But after a long while, all that came were tears.
Her heaving chest gradually stilled, her strength fading like a fish stranded on the shore, unable to even twitch its tail barely clinging to life, on the verge of death.
Clear tear tracks silently covered her face. As her lashes trembled, the world before her eyes turned dazzlingly colorful and vibrant.
It’s meaningless. I don’t love anymore. I’m tired.
There was no reason to keep clinging. She would break up with Meng Yuan.
Yes, she would break up with Meng Yuan!
Her goal was clear, her resolve firm.
Shang Li abruptly sat up, grabbed her phone, and opened her chat history with Meng Yuan. With trembling fingers, she began to type.
Her fingerprints, smeared with hot, crimson blood, left marks on the screen, staining the words “break up” in the chatbox red. Yet the green send button remained pure and untouched.
A sudden, sharp pain pierced her heart, as if a blunt knife were tearing it in two.
Why did it have to be today?
Shang Li lowered her gaze, a bitter, mocking smile curling her lips. Tears dripped from her chin, diluting the bloodstains below.
Reality was always more absurd than any drama.
Why did it have to force her to break up on their anniversary?
It was too cruel for everyone, wasn’t it?
Clutching her phone tightly, her mind already pressed the “send” button, decisively conveying the message.
But her body resisted one last time.
Ten years of feelings even if the ending was bleak, it deserved to be closed with a proper circle.
Reason and emotion tugged at her nerves. Gritting her teeth, she turned off her phone. In a panicked, suffocating moment, she swiftly pulled open a drawer and took out paper and a pen.
Just like countless nights before, she picked up the pen and wrote of their steadfast love, their eternal future soothing and numbing herself.
Over the past three years, she had written those two sentences countless times. The strokes grew deeper, yet her conviction grew weaker.
Now, it had finally reached its breaking point.
A massive lie unfolded on the paper. The sharp tip of the pen tore through the page, dark ink bleeding onto the next, a messy, stained ruin.
Trust lay in fragments.
Her neat handwriting gradually turned chaotic and scribbled, like the crooked trails of a wandering centipede.
Meng Yuan and Shang Li will be together forever and ever.
The ink faded, stopping abruptly. The final period remained undrawn.
Page by page, the paper crumbled, scattering like falling snow.
Time stood still at this moment.
[Meng Yuan, let’s break up.]
Edit. Send.