Qin Sang didn’t dare listen any longer.
She didn’t dare hear his grief, his pain, or the grievance he could never speak aloud.
She didn’t dare look into his eyes—the eyes torn open by heartbreak. She only lowered her head and, pale and powerless, whispered twice, “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”
Clenching her teeth to keep from crying, she forced herself into the calmest posture she could manage. She quickly took out the bank card from her bag, placed it on the table, and pushed it toward Sheng Yu. Her words were merciless.
“All the money you transferred is on this card. I didn’t touch it. As for…”
Her voice finally betrayed her, catching despite herself. “As for what President Sheng did for my friend and my cousin, I have nothing to repay you with. Just consider it… a sincere heart that was betrayed.”
“I’m sorry…”
As if fleeing, Qin Sang stood up and coldly tossed out one last sentence: “My friend is still waiting for me at the shop. I’ll go pay the bill and leave first.”
The instant she turned around, the tears she’d been holding back spilled uncontrollably.
Yet she didn’t dare raise her hand to wipe them away—afraid he might notice.
Sheng Yu didn’t stop her.
He only stared at the bank card she had left behind, his eyes filled with desolation. On its surface, it seemed to reflect her ruthless, resolute expression.
He didn’t know how much time passed.
Then, the man drowning in sorrow suddenly curved his lips into a smile.
But that smile was chilling—cold to the bone, steeped in helpless defeat.
Bitter and soundless, bleak beyond words.
She really did know exactly how to make him wish for death.
Once wasn’t enough. She had to do it again.
With hands that looked gentle, she raked him raw—scratching until he was covered in wounds, bleeding without end.
So cruel.
Five years.
In those five years, he’d lost count of how many times he’d imagined their reunion—imagined it only in secret.
That snowy day five years ago, when she abandoned him.
He had waited outside her home from day into night, snow falling from the sky without end. He waited a full day and night, never seeing her come out.
What he received instead was a phone call—his parents had died in a car accident.
Sheng Yu would never forget that day.
His mother, on her deathbed, had gripped his hand tightly and told him the truth about his connection to the Sheng family. She warned him with her last breath:
“You must protect yourself. That car accident wasn’t an accident… So if you don’t have the strength, never touch the people or things you love. You’ll only bring danger to them—unless you stand at the very top yourself…”
From that day on, he never dared let anyone discover that there was a girl in his heart more important than his own life.
He didn’t dare look for her.
Didn’t dare think of her.
Didn’t dare leave behind even the faintest trace of her existence.
He could only, night after night, carefully summon that silhouette in his mind during sleepless midnights.
Then sink into it alone—falling into endless, hollow fantasies to numb one unbearable night after another.
I could have endured countless nights without you.
But I cannot endure being ignited by you—only to be cast back into the abyss again.
Since you don’t want me to come near you…
Then, my darling—
Come and beg me.
Sheng Yu then continued eating alone, unhurried and composed. His eyes were calm, without ripples—yet somehow, they inspired an unnameable dread.
It wasn’t until a knock sounded at the private room door that his meal was interrupted.
Wen Beizhuo and Wen Li stood outside.
Wen Beizhuo had noticed Qin Sang leaving and, curious, came over. Seeing that the seat opposite Sheng Yu showed no sign of having been touched, he was so shocked it felt like witnessing a meteor strike. He joked aloud,
“She left without eating?”
Then, with a teasing grin, he added, “That’s a first. A woman who actually turned down our President Sheng.”
Compared to Wen Beizhuo’s playful tone, Wen Li’s gaze on Sheng Yu was far heavier, far more serious. She suddenly spoke, seemingly without preamble:
“Third Brother, that girl isn’t suitable for you.”
Sheng Yu took a sip of the fruit juice Qin Sang had poured for him earlier. He didn’t look up, only replied in a low, steady voice,
“Whether she’s suitable or not is for me alone to decide. No one else is qualified to judge her.”
Wen Li was about to say more when her brother grabbed her wrist, silently signaling her to stop.
She swallowed the rest of her words.