By Zephyria 
“Also.”
The young man’s voice was cold, as if tainted by that person’s stern demeanor, his presence now exuding authority and power, each word enunciated clearly:
“Did I allow you to touch me?”
Li Qiao’s face instantly turned pale.
Because the hand she had placed on the young man’s shoulder was suddenly gripped.
That grip no longer carried any gentleness. The moment her hand was flung away, she caught the indifference and disgust in his eyes.
The dignity and self-respect built upon expensive clothing seemed to shatter and collapse in that instant.
“Li Qiao.”
“Thank you for handing me over to Mr. Ren.”
The corner of the young man’s lips twitched, as if forming a faint smile, though the dim lighting made it hard to discern:
“This will be the decision you regret for the rest of your life.”
*
At the top floor of Linshui, the Nuohe Restaurant.
Jing Guozhen followed the manager to the front desk, his face dark with anger as he paid for the damages, swiping his card to settle the bill.
Jing Luo had tried to chase after his brother but was stopped and carried back by a waiter, who told him not to run around.
Sitting there, Jing Luo stared in the direction his brother had left, his heart burning with anxiety.
Suddenly, he remembered the scene in the park when his brother had taken medicine with trembling hands.
That time, he had fallen ill after arguing with their father too.
The more Jing Luo thought about it, the more terrified he became.
Overcome with fear, the little boy began to shed tears, his cheeks wet. Just as he was about to call for Father Jing, he noticed his brother’s phone, left behind on the table, vibrating faintly.
The screen lit up with a soft glow.
Tears still hanging on his cheeks, Jing Luo quickly wiped them away and stood up, rushing to the edge of the table to grab the phone.
—He saw the name “Mr. Ren” displayed on the screen.
In that moment, Jing Luo felt as though he had grasped a lifeline.
The call was answered almost immediately. Before the person on the other end could speak, Jing Luo was already sobbing uncontrollably: “Sister-in-law… sister-in-law… wuwu…”
“Brother… wu… go find brother…”
Though his words were fragmented, his trembling voice breaking between sobs, Jing Luo could barely hear the man’s response on the other end as he choked out:
“Please…”
“Save brother.”
*
Jing Mian left the restaurant.
Though the argument had stirred turbulent waves, his departure was silent.
At a street corner, the young man spotted a vending machine. Instinctively, he reached for his phone, only to find his pockets empty, he had left it at the restaurant.
But the thought of going back made him hesitate.
He rummaged through his backpack but found no coins either.
Home was over ten kilometers away. Jing Mian couldn’t call a cab, couldn’t take the bus, couldn’t contact a driver, and couldn’t reach Mr. Ren.
For a few seconds, he stood there, lost. Then, he turned and walked away.
The night traced the outline of his shadow.
Jing Mian watched as a drop of water landed on his shadow before vanishing into the brick pavement.
His vision blurred in an instant.
The young man froze for a moment.
Then he realized, those were his own tears.
This time, he hadn’t succumbed to an attack in his moment of collapse.
But in his daze, it felt as though he had returned to a memory from over a decade ago, to his carefree childhood. Now, he no longer had to care about the eyes around him, no longer had to suppress or restrain himself.
No one here knew him. He could shed all identities and pretenses, letting the mist in his eyes overflow, tears streaming down his jaw. He lowered his head, his nose aching unbearably, trembling as he cried.
He didn’t even know why he was so upset.
After all, it had happened so long ago.
…
Why did it have to be so heartbreaking?
His mother had already been destined to leave him before the car accident.
Even if time reversed, even if he stood at that fateful crossroads and made a completely different choice, nothing could ultimately be changed.
For the twelve years he survived, Jing Mian couldn’t stop thinking:
If he hadn’t been so desperate to make friends,
If he hadn’t insisted on attending Brother’s birthday party that night,
If he hadn’t urged the driver to go faster in those last seconds before the truck collision…
The guilt that had kept him alive all this time now shattered along with the faintest glimmer of reversal and hope he’d imagined, vanishing like an illusion.
During what he’d believed were his happiest childhood years, his mother had already been silently preparing to bid farewell to this world forever, planning to leave him behind.
Why was it that despite how hard he tried to live,
Everyone kept drifting further away?
…
“No one wants you.”
Perhaps Li Qiao wasn’t wrong.
Jing Mian raised his hand. Tears streamed endlessly, and as he wiped them away with his sleeve, his vision only grew blurrier, as if obscured by an unfathomable mist.
So it turned out he was unwanted.
No one wanted him.
Departing from City S to Lincheng.
According to transit routes and flight schedules between the two cities, even the fastest rumored flight would take two hours.
9:00 PM.
A tall man stepped off the private jet, his pitch-black coat fluttering with each stride. His pale golden eyes concealed an intensity so dark it seemed unquenchable.
The bodyguards following him sensed the unusual tension and fell silent.
They watched as President Ren took the driver’s seat of a black car waiting on the tarmac, leaving the bewildered chauffeur standing outside as the door slammed shut.
The car sped away.
The taillights’ glow vanished in an instant.
The car stopped in front of a quiet apartment building.
Even at night, few windows in this complex were lit. Passersby could glimpse the peeling gray exterior, no more than seven stories high, without elevators, property management, or even a community gate that required keys or access cards.
Outsiders could come and go freely. Such was the nature of these old, dilapidated buildings.
It wasn’t far from Jing Mian’s university.
The rented apartment where the young man had lived alone before their marriage.
The man hadn’t come here often, but each visit was seared into his memory.
As he ascended the stairs, motion-sensor lights flickered on with his steps.
Until he paused on the fourth floor.
The door was slightly ajar, yet no light spilled from within.
Darkness seemed to have swallowed everything, slowly merging with the cool air. The silence felt tangible yet soundless.
Ren Xingwan pushed the door open.
The darkness gradually enveloped him too, dissolving him into this cramped and quiet night.
Lincheng had seen a light rain not long ago, dampening every exposed surface of the city until even the air carried a moist chill.
The man lowered his gaze to the watery footprints on the floor.
Leading from the carpeted doorway,
All the way to the wardrobe not far away.
Ren Xingwan’s heart clenched.
In three quick strides, he reached the closed wooden cabinet and pulled open the door.
The sight before him stole his breath.
—The young man sat there, already slender and delicate, curled into a tiny ball that occupied just a small corner. His damp hair dripped water down his neck and into his collar.
On the left hand clutching his knees, their wedding ring still gleamed.
Glistening from the rain’s wash.
Even his fair collarbones caught the moonlight. Jing Mian seemed to notice the man’s leather shoes first, pausing before slowly lifting his gaze.
Jing Mian raised his head.
For a moment, they simply looked at each other.
He pressed his lips together, then called out softly, “Brother.”
Both of them knew the weight behind that address.
When sober, Jing Mian rarely showed vulnerability in front of him, let alone sought his protection.
His treasure had been hurt.
Mr. Ren, who had been about to bend down, froze at Jing Mian’s next words, his tall figure stiffening momentarily, his palm trembling slightly.
Hidden in the darkness of the closet, the young man’s eyes were rimmed red as he whispered, “Why did you leave back then?”
“Why did you abandon me?”