When she was eighteen, I sat in the back row of the university auditorium, watching her stand on her tiptoes to write her dreams for the future on the freshman wall.
When she was twenty-one, I sat in the cafe she frequented, watching her rush into another man’s umbrella while clutching a bouquet of flowers.
This year, at twenty-seven, I personally sent the video of her fiancé’s affair to her inbox, watching as she stumbled into my arms at the bridal boutique with reddened eyes.
It doesn’t matter that she loved someone else.
It doesn’t matter that she forgot me.
After ten years of long-laid plans, in the end, she will only be my wife.
When she discovered Qian Zhaoye was cheating, Qu He was using his phone to reply to work messages.
With a slip of her finger, she accidentally touched a hidden icon. The screen switched instantly to reveal a wallpaper featuring an intimate photo of Qian Zhaoye and another woman.
Qu He was no stranger to this woman; it was Qiao Mian, who had been transferred to the General Office just three months ago.
In the photo, Qian Zhaoye was kissing the woman’s forehead with such devotion, such tenderness.
They had been dating for seven years. He had generously handed over his phone password, calmly telling her she could “check it whenever she liked.” As it turned out, it was only because the phone had a dual system.
Qu He’s hands trembled as she scrolled through the chat history. Their earliest messages dated back four years, and the most recent one was from half an hour ago:
Qiao Mian: [Darling, do you think she looks better in a wedding dress, or do I look sexier in a red dress?]
Qian Zhaoye: [Wear the red dress for me tonight.]
Qiao Mian: [Hmph. I won’t wear it for you. This is your punishment for kissing that old woman this morning.]
Qian Zhaoye: [Why even compare yourself to her? She goes around with a long face all day, stiff and boring. A man only needs to look at her to lose interest. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have gone seven years without touching her once.]
Qiao Mian: [Smooth talker. Then you’re not allowed to go to the wedding dress fitting with her tomorrow!]
Qian Zhaoye: [Whatever you say.]
Qu He’s vision blurred for a moment. The words on the screen seemed to transform into grotesque characters, tightening their grip around her throat.
The cold porridge she had eaten that morning churned in her stomach, rising continuously.
“Old woman…”
“Stiff and boring…”
“Hasn’t touched her once in seven years…”
Every word was like a sharp blade, stabbing ruthlessly into her heart, then twisting cruelly, carving out her flesh and spirit.
Qu He’s nose stung with bitterness. They were supposed to get married so soon…
Five years ago, right after she graduated from university, Qian Zhaoye had brought her into his company.
At the time, he had kissed her fingertips and said, “Ah-He, the company is just starting out. Come be my secretary first. Once things are stable, you can go back to your art. That way, we can be together every day.”
Back then, Qu He had just graduated from the Ceramic Arts department, her skirts still stained with wet clay, yet she had nodded without a moment’s hesitation.
But that “wait” had lasted five years.
Over those five years, she had tucked away all her vibrant dresses, donned dull black professional suits, and pinned her long hair up meticulously.
She learned how to deflect drinks at banquets, how to read the moods of business partners, and how to swallow her grievances—all for the sake of his words: “Ah-He, you won’t let me down.”
In the end, she finally became the “professional” secretary everyone admired.
Yet, she had also become the “stiff and boring” accessory he spoke of.
She thought her sacrifices would be cherished by Qian Zhaoye; she thought she was about to step into the hall of marriage and find happiness. But it turned out that in his eyes, she was nothing more than a stiff, boring old woman.
From age twenty to twenty-seven, from her sophomore year to the professional world, the seven years of deep affection she believed in were nothing more than a joke hidden behind a dual system.
Seven years… her best seven years…
Nailed to a pillar of shame by Qian Zhaoye’s few words.
“Secretary Qu?”
Footsteps approached from a distance.
Qu He’s finger swiped up to exit all background apps and immediately switched back to the original system.
She turned around. Qian Zhaoye was walking toward her, surrounded by several managers. As he drew near, he said a few words to the others, and the group dispersed.
Qu He gripped the phone tightly, her knuckles turning white from the exertion.
“Is something wrong?”
“Yes.”
“Come in and talk.”
The two entered the office. As soon as the door closed, Qian Zhaoye reached out to rest his hand on her.
“What is it? You don’t look well.”
Qu He subtly dodged his touch and looked up at him.
The man was dressed in a sharp suit, his eyes dancing with a smile, still wearing that same tender, water-like expression.
How ironic!
Just half an hour ago, he was flirting with Qiao Mian on his phone, yet now he could chat and act intimate with her without even changing his expression.
Qu He let out a soft breath, struggling to keep her voice natural. “Your phone. I helped you reply to a few work messages just now.”
Qian Zhaoye: “Just that? The company has been a bit busy lately. I’ll take you on a vacation once this period passes, okay?”
He stepped closer, naturally reaching out to take the phone. His fingertips brushed against the back of her hand, seemingly by accident, carrying a hint of intimate suggestion.
Qu He’s stomach did a violent flip; she almost threw up on the spot.
She forced herself to endure it, her lips curling into a stiff smile. “Aren’t you going to check it? Aren’t you afraid I peeked at your little secrets?”
Qian Zhaoye gave a low chuckle, his gaze doting. “Ah-He, I told you, as long as you want to, you can check my phone whenever you like.”
Check it whenever she liked?
Qu He stared into his eyes, finding it utterly absurd!
How could he be so shameless?
How could he, after betraying her, still put on such a mask of deep affection?
It was simply too brazen, too disgusting!
Qu He wanted nothing more than to slap him right now and ask if he even had a heart!
Seeing that she didn’t speak, Qian Zhaoye reached out to wrap his arm around her waist, leaning down to kiss her.
Qu He jerked her head to the side to avoid him, her nails digging hard into her palms. She used the pain to barely keep herself calm.
“We’re going to try on the wedding dress tomorrow afternoon at five. Don’t forget.” Qu he could hear her own voice; it carried a tremor that was hard to detect.
Qian Zhaoye’s expression stiffened subtly for a split second before he quickly smiled. “Of course I won’t forget. It’s just that something came up for tomorrow that I need to handle. You go try the dress first, and I’ll be there shortly.”
After saying that, he added an extra excuse, “Isn’t there a trend lately called the ‘first look’? I want to save your most beautiful side for the wedding.”
Qu He stared fixedly at his face, trying to find even a trace of guilt.
But was it true that every cheating man could lie with such a clear conscience?
She asked softly, “But Zhaoye, what could possibly be more important than our wedding?”
Zhaoye.
She hadn’t used that name in a long time.
Over the last five years, an invisible chasm seemed to have gradually formed between them.
She called him “President Qian,” and he called her “Secretary Qu.” Only on the rare occasions when he needed her would Qian Zhaoye call her “Ah-He” with that old tenderness.
A flash of hesitation crossed Qian Zhaoye’s eyes.
But quickly, his expression turned cold, his tone indifferent. “You can handle projects worth tens of millions; this is just a single wedding. Ah-He, you won’t let me down, right?”
—“Ah-He, you won’t let me down.”
These words were like a resounding slap across Qu He’s face.
“Ah-He, I need you.”
“Ah-He, you won’t let me down.”
“Qu He, can you stop being so boring all the time?”
“Qu He, can’t you learn from others and be a bit more gentle?”
“Qu He…”
Every word of belittlement and negation from the past five years exploded in her mind at this moment.
Qu He’s eyes burned with red, her heart aching uncontrollably.
What was she still hoping for?
Was she hoping for a stray to return home? Or for him to suddenly see the light?
Qu He felt like a total clown—a pathetic clown who was lying to herself.
“Of course, President Qian. I won’t let you down.”
“Good. If there’s nothing else, you can go.”
Qu He gave a slight nod and turned to leave. Her footsteps were light and hollow, as if she were treading on cotton. She had to grip the doorknob just to keep herself from showing weakness.
The moment she rushed into the restroom, Qu He bent over and began to retch.
The bowl of cold porridge she’d had this morning surged up her throat mixed with stomach acid. Her esophagus felt like it was burning, sour and painful.
She gripped the edge of the sink tightly and looked up into the mirror.
The woman in the mirror was deathly pale. The dark circles she had covered with foundation before leaving the house had resurfaced. The black professional suit made her look like a hollow shell with her soul drained out.
This was her.
The stiff and boring old woman Qian Zhaoye spoke of.
“Qu He, how did you end up living like this?”
Her phone vibrated; it was a confirmation text from the bridal boutique.
Qu He replied: [I will be there on time tomorrow.]
She reached up to pull out the pins in her hair and unbuttoned the top buttons of her shirt one by one, revealing her slender collarbones. It felt like she was undoing a set of shackles. She gasped for air in large gulps.
Five years. This was the first time she had violated the “professional requirements” Qian Zhaoye had set for her.