Sang Wan’s steps faltered.
Behind her, Lu Jinnian’s voice rang out, low and heavy: “So, you’ve got nothing to do with the Lu family anymore, is that it? Sang Wan, since you’re so proud of your backbone, so eager to cut ties so cleanly—then… take off that dress you’re wearing.”
Sang Wan spun around abruptly. Lu Jinnian’s face was dark, his gaze cold and unyielding. She knew this was a threat. Either she bowed her head, apologized to Su Baohui and to the guests, admitted that today’s outburst was her fault—that she had lost control without reason, at the wrong occasion. If she did, he would let her keep a shred of dignity. Or she would do as he said. Strip off the gown in front of everyone, lose all face, and be thrown out of the Lu household bare and humiliated.
Around them, the guests exchanged uneasy glances.
Su Baohui and Lu Zhiyi looked satisfied, their expressions full of relief. Lin Zhaozhao could hardly hide her glee. “Sang Wan, this dress was custom-made by President Lu for me. He only lent it to you for the day—it was never yours to keep!”
Sang Wan trembled with fury. She wanted to ask him—did he even have a heart left? She wanted to curse him—could he still call himself human?
Her lips quivered violently as she opened her mouth, afraid that if she spoke, her voice would betray the sob caught in her throat. So she bit down hard, reached behind her, and tugged at the zipper.
Lu Jinnian’s eyes narrowed.
The zipper slid down. The gown spilled away like a cascade of lake-blue silk.
“Sang Wan!!!” His shout was sharp with shock and anger. Even as relief flickered across his face, fury still blazed in his eyes. “Good. Very good! Sang Wan, you’ve got guts!!!”
She had known the moment she changed clothes that this gown was never meant for her. Even brand-new, the thought that someone else had already tried it on made Sang Wan feel repulsed. She hadn’t touched the lace lingerie tucked inside the box—only swapped out her chiffon blouse.
Now, she was profoundly grateful. Grateful she had, without meaning to, left herself a way out. On top, she wore a white lace camisole that reached her waist. On the bottom, her jeans remained—only the cuffs rolled up a little.
Her shoulders were sharp and elegant.
Her collarbones were exquisite.
Her slender waist even more so.
At a glance, she looked like a stylish young woman on a summer street. Youthful, radiant, and still dignified. She kicked aside the lake-blue gown pooled at her feet. Then, one by one, she flicked off the high heels.
Lifting her gaze to Lu Jinnian, Sang Wan asked coolly, “Do you want to search me?”
Lu Jinnian’s face turned ashen, his eyes blazing with fury.
Sang Wan gave him a cold glance, turned barefoot, and walked away.
Boom!
The villa doors swung open as thunder cracked overhead. A flash of lightning lit up her thin silhouette.
Without looking back, Sang Wan stepped out. For a moment she hesitated—whether to return to Lu Zhiyi’s house to retrieve her blouse and sneakers or to leave as quickly as possible. She chose decisively. She turned and walked straight out into the night. Raindrops scattered onto her hair, splashed across her face, damp and cool. Yet the road beneath her feet still burned hot from the sun just moments before.
Step by step, Sang Wan walked on—difficult, but resolute. Halfway down the street, the rain suddenly poured in sheets.
Meow!
A faint cry reached her ears, and her vision blurred. From the flowerbed, a shadow darted out—a streak of fur that clamped onto the hem of her jeans.
Meow!
Meow, meow…
A yellow-and-white tabby tugged at her pant leg, pulling her toward the flowerbed. As if to say: It’s raining, silly—come hide with me!
Seeing her frozen in place, the cat grew frantic, circling again and again, yet refusing to leave her to find shelter on its own.
Sang Wan stared blankly. “Ju… Juju?”
Meow!
The tabby, thrilled that she recognized it, flopped onto the wet ground without care, belly up, showing its soft pink-white fur.
Sang Wan blinked, stunned.
Sixteen—she had fallen for Lu Jinnian.
Eighteen—after the college entrance exams, she accepted his confession and became his girlfriend.
Twenty—she married him.
Twenty-three—she bore Lu Xiaomu.
She had loved Lu Jinnian for twelve years. He no longer wanted her. She had raised Lu Xiaomu day and night until he was five. He no longer wanted her either.
But now—this little orange cat, one she had only fed a handful of times, recognized her. It wanted to lead her to shelter from the rain.
Sang Wan’s tears fell like the storm itself. “Juju…”
Raindrops scattered onto her hair, dampening her face. The pavement beneath her feet still burned hot from the sun just moments before.
Step after step, Sang Wan pressed forward—painful, yet resolute.
Halfway down the road, the rain came crashing down in torrents.
She crouched to stroke the cat’s head, her voice choked: “I have nothing left now. I can’t afford expensive cat food or canned meat anymore… Will you still come with me?”
Meow! The tabby straightened, its front paws clutching her arm, rubbing its head against her tear-streaked cheek.
Without hesitation, Sang Wan scooped the cat into her arms and walked on.
Whoosh— The downpour drenched her in seconds, soaking her through. Even so, she did not stop. She strode past the gates of the compound under the astonished gaze of the guard. Rain blurred her vision, strands of hair plastered to her face, the road ahead indistinct. Every step stabbed with pain. Cars splashed water from the roadside, drenching her again and again.
Sang Wan moved as if numb, her expression blank, trudging forward.
Beep! Beep-beep!
A horn blared. She stepped aside.
A black business car swerved in, stopping before her.
The door slid open. Lou Ye jumped out, pulled an umbrella from the trunk, and snapped it open over her head. His face was grim. “What happened?”
Above the lace bustier was a sweep of pale skin, her collarbones starkly visible.
Lou Ye knew—this wasn’t her style. She had never dressed like this. And now, barefoot, she looked utterly disheveled.
“Get in the car.” Without waiting for her answer, he pushed her inside. The driver, quick to read the situation, handed over a blanket and switched on the heater.
Lou Ye climbed in after her, his whole presence radiating a cold, violent tension. “Home.”
“Yes, sir.” The driver obeyed, the car gliding smoothly into the curtain of rain.
She wanted to say, “No need—just drop me at a hotel.”
She wanted to say, “Thank you.”
But the words stuck. Seeing Lou Ye’s rain-soaked coat and hair, realizing he had witnessed her at her lowest—she gave up.
Ten minutes later, the car pulled into the underground garage.
Lou Ye shrugged off his suit jacket and handed it to her, then reached to tug away the blanket cradled in her arms.
The blanket slipped open, revealing a little cat’s head. Meow…
Lou Ye: …
“Senior, you must not have taken cultivation very seriously in your past life.”
Sang Wan lifted her eyes.
Lou Ye’s face was amused. “You’re like a clay idol crossing the river—barely able to save yourself—yet you still have the energy to rescue it?”
“I…” Sang Wan opened her mouth, but no words came.
Lou Ye reached out, pulling the blanket and the cat from her arms.
“Careful!” Sang Wan cried out.
The blanket and the cat fell into Lou Ye’s embrace.
That tiny kitten—once bristling like a cactus, hissing at Lu Jinnian. That wary little orange tabby—once crouching at her feet, rump raised, retreating so Lu Xiaomu couldn’t catch it. Now, whether rain-dazed or sleep-fogged, it had no defenses at all. It lazily lifted its eyelids, glanced at Lou Ye, then closed them again.
The orange cat even snuggled deeper, burying its head comfortably against Lou Ye’s chest.
Sang Wan: …
“Come on. Let’s go home.” Lou Ye turned and went into the elevator.
She wasn’t sure whether those words were meant for her—or for the cat.
Glancing at the soaked, messy back seat, Sang Wan hesitated for a few seconds. Then she stepped out of the car and followed Lou Ye into the elevator.