Upon arriving at Crown Apartments, Huo Zhili got out of the car without a word.
Yu Qingyu was no longer there, but Lou Minghe was.
He took the elevator directly to the twelfth floor. After stepping out, he raised his hand and rang the doorbell.
Lou Minghe, who had just finished a meeting, was about to pour himself a glass of water when the doorbell rang. Glancing at the monitor and seeing Huo Zhili outside, he casually opened the door.
“What do you want?” he asked indifferently.
Huo Zhili lifted his cold gaze, his voice low and restrained. “Qingyu went abroad for further studies?”
Lou Minghe scoffed, crossing his arms.
“What does it have to do with you? Huo Zhili, you two broke up long ago.”
“Whether we broke up or not isn’t for you to decide,” Huo Zhili said, his words slow and deliberate, his knuckles tightening slightly.
“Right, it’s not for me to decide.”
Lou Minghe took half a step closer, each word piercing like a needle.
“But I can tell you this clearly: Qingyu doesn’t want you anymore, and she won’t waste any more time on you.”
In that instant, Huo Zhili felt as if a heavy hammer had struck his chest.
He suddenly understood—it was truly over.
During their last argument, he had said, “Let’s cool off,” but her response had been a breakup.
After that, not a single message followed.
Lou Minghe’s words were harsh, but every one of them was true.
“As long as she doesn’t look back, I won’t disturb her again,” Huo Zhili forced down the surging emotions, his voice still restrained.
A cold glint flashed in Lou Minghe’s eyes, his smile sharp and mocking. “Huo Zhili, where do you get the confidence to think Qingyu can’t live without you?”
Before the words fully faded, he threw a punch directly at the corner of Huo Zhili’s mouth.
Caught off guard, Huo Zhili’s legs weakened, and he staggered slightly.
His mouth went numb, as if it no longer belonged to him, a burning pain spreading from the corner of his lips.
He raised a hand to wipe it, his fingertips stained with a streak of crimson.
“Hmm.” Huo Zhili let out a low laugh, his voice slightly hoarse.
“She has many choices.”
Huo Zhili reached out and pressed the elevator button.
Behind him, the heavy sound of the door slamming shut marked the final collapse of what little dignity remained.
In the basement, he bore the shocking redness and swelling at the corner of his mouth.
The driver, seeing this, tensed and bowed slightly, asking, “Young Master Huo, should we go to the hospital?”
Settling into the car, Huo Zhili’s body paused almost imperceptibly before he let out a cold laugh, his tone tinged with self-mockery.
“Go to the hospital? Why not just admit me? Since when has Huo Zhili become so fragile?”
With that, he twisted open a bottle of water and took several gulps.
The icy water suppressed the metallic taste in his throat but couldn’t quell the turmoil in his chest.
Leaning back in the seat, he closed his eyes, his mind filled with Lou Minghe’s heart-piercing words.
She was the one who liked him, and she was the one who left.
It turned out that from beginning to end, he had merely been a joke, played by Yu Qingyu like a pawn in her hands.
With trembling fingers, he dialed the number etched in his memory, as if trying his luck.
The call actually went through, but what came through the receiver was an unfamiliar male voice.
“Hello. Qingyu is busy right now. If you have something, call back later.”
Huo Zhili’s eyes instantly darkened to their depths, a vast chill and absurdity swirling within that ink-black gaze.
He opened his mouth but ultimately said nothing, hanging up directly.
The world seemed to empty in an instant.
United States,
10:00 AM.
At Johns Hopkins Hospital,
Yu Qingyu had just finished observing a highly complex and difficult surgery in the viewing room. Having focused intently throughout, noting every key detail, she now walked slowly back to her office.
A Chinese-American male doctor from the same hospital followed her in and said gently:
“Qingyu, your personal phone rang earlier. Since you hadn’t returned, I answered it for you, but the caller didn’t say anything and hung up directly. Would you like to call back and check?”
Yu Qingyu responded softly, her tone flat and unemotional: “Alright.”
She gently placed the surgical observation notebook in her hand on the office desk.
Lowering her gaze to the call log on her phone, the string of numbers she knew by heart came into view. Without the slightest hesitation, she lightly tapped her fingertip and directly added the number to the blacklist.
She had long since resolved to start a brand-new life. She wanted nothing from her past—no person or matter related to Huo Zhili—to taint her future, leaving not even a sliver of room.
Meanwhile, it was already late at night back in China.
Huo Zhili hung up the phone, the air around him instantly dropping to an icy low, his entire body radiating a bone-chilling coldness.
The thought that a strange man had answered the phone led him to stubbornly conclude that since the other person could casually pick up Yu Qingyu’s phone, their relationship must be extremely intimate. This imagined intimacy pierced his heart like a needle.
The driver sat in the driver’s seat,
glancing through the rearview mirror at Huo Zhili’s gloomy expression and the lingering red swelling at the corner of his mouth.
Feeling uneasy, he hesitated for a long time before finally turning around and cautiously asking:
“Young Master Huo, shall we return to Lishan Villa?”
Huo Zhili gave a faint “mm,” his voice terribly hoarse.
At this moment, his mind was filled with images of Yu Qingyu spending day and night with another man. Those scenes lingered relentlessly, churning his heart into chaos.
He tugged at the corner of his mouth, revealing an extremely sarcastic smile, his tone full of self-mockery and unwillingness.
“Yu Qingyu, your love was nothing more than this—able to let go so thoroughly, just like that.”
Only after speaking did he belatedly realize that he had always thought he understood Yu Qingyu well enough—understood her endurance, understood her deep affection. But it was only now that he understood he had never truly seen her clearly.
Her deep affection was real, but once she made a decisive break, she would never look back.
Huo Zhili irritably tossed his phone onto the car seat beside him, leaned back wearily, and slowly closed his eyes. Yet the overwhelming restlessness and anger left his mind unable to find any peace.
The next day,
Huo Zhili returned to the Huo family, the blue-purple bruise at the corner of his mouth still visible.
In the living room, Li Sheng caught sight of the injury on his face at a glance but merely swept her eyes over it without a single extra word of inquiry.
Her heart was a mix of conflicting emotions, harboring unresolved resentment—she felt that Yu Qingyu’s choice to study abroad and leave completely was the right decision, yet she was also filled with resentment toward her son for not knowing how to cherish, for pushing away someone who had loved him with all her heart.
Huo Zhili walked in and called out softly: “Mom.”
Li Sheng responded faintly, her tone so flat it betrayed no emotion.
Nearby, Huo Songyi was sitting on the sofa. Looking up and noticing the blue-purple mark at the corner of her brother’s mouth, she immediately came over, her eyes full of confusion as she asked:
“Brother, what happened to your mouth? Did you accidentally bump into something while playing ball?”
In her understanding, it had always been Huo Zhili who made others wary; no one had ever dared to actually lay a hand on him. Subconsciously, she could only think of it as an accident.
Huo Zhili ignored her question, his gaze fixed directly on Li Sheng as his voice deepened: “Mom, Qingyu and I have broken up.”
Li Sheng finally raised her eyes slowly, lifting her eyelids to look at him. Her gaze held a hint of understanding, mixed with a cold disappointment, as she said bluntly:
“It’s good that you broke up. It saves you from holding Qingyu back any longer. Huo Zhili, one day you’ll regret it—you’ve lost the one who looked at you with nothing but love.”
Huo Songyi was startled, her eyes widening in disbelief as she stared at Huo Zhili:
“Brother, was it you who initiated the breakup? I could clearly see how much Qingyu loved you.”
Huo Zhili’s hand, hanging by his side, tightened slightly, but his expression remained unchanged as he replied calmly:
“You’re mistaken. It was her.”
“That’s because you pushed her to the point of heartbreak.”
Li Sheng immediately retorted, her tone full of certainty, leaving no room for mercy.
With that, she stood up, unwilling to look at her stubborn son any longer, her voice distant and dismissive:
“Aren’t you always busy? You don’t need to stay for lunch either.”
Watching Li Sheng’s retreating figure, Huo Songyi stole a glance at Huo Zhili’s grim expression and muttered quietly:
“Brother, now you’ve really earned Mom’s full disapproval.”
Huo Zhili instantly looked up, his cold eyes sweeping over her, his tone carrying an undeniable threat:
“Huo Songyi, if you say one more word, I’ll freeze every single one of your cards.”
Huo Songyi was startled by his glare, swallowing the words on the tip of her tongue and obediently falling silent, not daring to utter another sound.