Ahh~ This is my vision of Zhizhi. Image from the internet; will be removed immediately if there are copyright concerns~
July 1994 — In the penthouse office of Beijing’s largest shopping mall.
“Zhizhi, hold still… let me kiss you just one more time.”
Sunlight spilled through the glass, bathing the room and the leather sofa in warmth. There sat a strikingly handsome man, holding in his arms a girl as lovely and delicate as a porcelain doll—their bodies pressed close, leaving no space between them.
Her soft, slender arms curled around his long, graceful neck. Her limpid almond-shaped eyes seemed to hold no one but him. She tilted her head obediently, yielding to his deep, fierce, possessive kisses.
For a moment, the quiet office was filled only with the soft, wet sounds of their kissing.
His kisses grew hotter, more fervent. After tasting her soft pink lips, he trailed his mouth downward, leaving a trail of tender, reddened marks along her snow-white neck that carried the sweet scent of gardenia blossoms…
“Such a good girl, my love.”
Xiao Yunting supported her legs as they wrapped around his waist—fair, smooth, and cool to the touch, feeling perfectly right in his grasp.
Yu Wanzhi breathed softly, a little breathless, and let out a soft, sweet murmur. Her voice was innocent, soft, and utterly endearing:
“I’m hungry~ I want crab soup dumplings—the ones from Shanghai.”
Deep in Xiao Yunting’s handsome features lay an indulgence that surfaced only when he looked at her. A lazy, charming smile curved his lips as he kissed her fair cheek, nibbling gently.
“Anything you want. I’ll have Zhoujing book flights right away. We’ll go get them now.”
Yu Wanzhi’s eyes lit up instantly, bright as twin stars twinkling in the dark. When she smiled, two adorable dimples appeared on her cheeks—like little cups brimming with sweetness.
“Yay~ After eating, I want to ride the ferry and see the Oriental Pearl Tower!”
Every little charming gesture of hers melted Xiao Yunting’s heart. Seeing her happiness, he smiled unconsciously—warmth reached even the fine lines at the corners of his eyes, softening his usual cool, distant air. His gaze held nothing but love and utter adoration.
“Alright, go play by your side for a little while. I’ll arrange everything.”
Yu Wanzhi shook her head playfully, clinging to him like a koala and swaying back and forth. “I don’t want to play alone. Carry me with you.”
And so he walked across the office, the girl clinging to him as tightly as a koala to a tree—her arms and legs wrapped firmly around him. Xiao Yunting supported her with one hand beneath her hips, while with the other he pulled out his phone from his briefcase and made a call. When he finished, he sat at his desk with her still in his arms, and gently pressed her soft, fluffy head against his shoulder.
“Flight leaves in an hour. Sleep a little while. I’ll wrap up my work so I can clear my schedule and spend a few more days showing you around.”
Five years passed in the blink of an eye.
The starlight that once shone in Yu Wanzhi’s eyes had faded completely. In its place lay nothing but heartbreak and sorrow. Tears spilled over like pearls snapping free from their string, falling one by one onto her blouse—darkening the fabric, and piercing his heart.
“Xiao Yunting… are you absolutely sure? Once you sign this, there’s no going back for us. Don’t leave me… please? I won’t know how to live without you…”
His voice had lost all warmth—cold, distant, and cutting. His gaze was like ice.
“Yu Wanzhi, sign it. Let’s part ways cleanly.”
He sat in the familiar leather chair, waved a hand, and his lawyer stepped forward. Opening his briefcase, he took out a divorce agreement.
“Ms. Yu, please review this document. Should you have any questions, I am at your disposal. If you have additional requests, Mr. Xiao will certainly consider—”
Yu Wanzhi tore the agreement into shreds. She lifted her pale, gaunt face and spoke through choked sobs.
“My love is priceless, Xiao Yunting. I’m giving you one last chance. Apologize to me… and I’ll pretend none of this ever happened.”
Xiao Yunting’s eyes reddened unseen by her. He dug his nails into his palms, hard—seeming to need that sharp pain to steel his resolve.
“Must I spell it out more plainly? I have lost all interest in you. My patience has long since worn thin. I’ve finally realized what I truly need: a capable partner like Xinrou—someone who stands beside me in work and in life—not a pampered, spoiled little princess like you!”
Liu Xinrou stepped forward at his words, standing beside her with a quiet, triumphant smile. She spoke in a soft, sugary tone: “Now, dear… don’t make things difficult for Mr. Xiao.”
The lawyer, quick to read the room, promptly produced a fresh copy of the agreement and held it out to her.
“Ms. Yu, I have prepared hundreds of copies. Tearing them changes nothing. You were once Mr. Xiao’s closest companion—you must know: no one can turn him aside once he has set his mind to something. Please… just sign.”
Yu Wanzhi lifted her eyes—hollow, red-rimmed, lifeless—and stared at the man who had once loved her more than life itself. She stood frozen for a long moment… and then she laughed.
But there was none of her old sparkle in that smile. Her eyes held only a pain so deep it felt as though it were eating her alive. Her voice came out hoarse and broken.
“Xiao Yunting… you liar. If I could live my life over… meeting you and falling in love with you would be the one thing I would undo.”
With a trembling hand, she signed her name across the bottom of the document—bold, unhesitant—and turned to leave.
She took a few steps, then paused as though remembering something. She wrenched the jade pendant from around her neck—the one she had worn for nearly five years—and hurled it at him with all her might.
It struck the desk with a sharp clack. Xiao Yunting remained seated, calm, his face impassive.
Time slipped by like a silent bird flying across the sky of memory—leaving behind nothing but a faint, fleeting shadow.
New Year’s Eve, the Year of the Millennium.
Yu Wanzhi stood before a quiet grave, dressed in the white wool coat he had once loved so much. His portrait looked back at her—still handsome, still proud.
Fu Zhoujing stood beside her. He handed her a leather-bound journal and a pair of twin-fish jade pendants. His voice was rough with emotion.
“These were the two things he valued most in this life. And you… you were the person he cherished most. He never told me to give them to you… but I know he would want you to keep them safe.”
The twin-fish jade—symbolizing two souls, swimming together for all time. It had been his betrothal gift to her, representing one lifetime, one heart, one couple. It was the very same pendant she had thrown back at him the day they divorced.
Fu Zhoujing’s eyes burned red. He spoke as if speaking to himself.
“Don’t hate him, Yu Wanzhi. Please… don’t blame him. There never lived anyone who loved you more than he did. In this past year since you left… every single day has been torment—body and soul.”
“He lived forty-four years. But only for those five years with you did he ever truly feel alive. So many times I wanted to run to you and beg you to come see him… but he forbade it. There are twenty years between you. He refused to let you waste your best years caring for a dying man.”
There was more he did not say. His boss had told him once: he never wanted his little girl to see him wasting away—skeletal, ravaged by illness. He wanted her to remember him… always as he was at his finest.
Yu Wanzhi stood motionless, the journal pressed to her chest, the jade pendant clutched tight in her hand. The world around her seemed to drain of color. She stood like a puppet stripped of all feeling and thought—unaware of the moment Fu Zhoujing turned and left her alone.
Slowly, she opened the journal. On the very first page, written in his familiar hand, were these words:
Once I caught a ray of light, only to return it to the sun at dusk. If I could live it all over again… how I wish I had met you sooner.
Reading those words, Yu Wanzhi felt as though an invisible hand had closed tight around her heart—squeezing until she could barely breathe.
She had believed… that after their divorce, he had married Liu Xinrou. That he was living happily. That he had forgotten her. She had never imagined… that the man she still loved more than anything… was dying of a terminal illness.
Her legs gave way. She crumpled to the ground, shivering, fragile as a withered leaf in autumn. The whole world seemed to spin around her. She could not stand.
How long she remained there, she did not know. Slowly, snow began to fall—soft, silent flakes drifting down from a sky heavy and gray as a tattered shroud. Yu Wanzhi curled into a ball in the snow, small and broken and alone.
She lifted her gaze one last time to his portrait. Her face was ashen, bloodless—tears melting into the falling snow, streaking down her cold cheeks. Her pale lips trembled… but in the end, she spoke no word. She rose slowly and walked away from the gravesite—her figure small, lonely, and heartbreakingly fragile.
One hour later, the evening news broadcast:
“A traffic accident occurred at the entrance of a cemetery on the outskirts of Beijing. The deceased—identified as a woman wearing white clothing—was pronounced dead at the scene. The driver fled and remains at large…”