Ye Sibei and Qin Nan fell asleep in each other's arms while Fan Jiancheng returned home humming a tune.
As soon as he opened the door, he saw the living room brightly lit, with Zhao Shuhui sitting on the sofa, lost in thought.
Fan Jiancheng froze momentarily, feeling somewhat guilty. "You're still awake?" he asked.
Zhao Shuhui looked up. "Where have you been?"
"Busy at work," Fan Jiancheng replied casually as he took off his coat. "Overtime."
"Do you really think I'd believe that again?"
Zhao Shuhui suddenly stood up and walked over to Fan Jiancheng. She grabbed the coat he had just taken off and inspected it meticulously, sniffing and examining it.
Fan Jiancheng nonchalantly changed his shoes, loosened his tie, and turned his head with a mocking laugh, ridiculing his wife's behavior.
Hearing the laugh, Zhao Shuhui turned around and grabbed Fan Jiancheng by the collar, her face twisted with agitation. "Where were you? Where the hell were you?"
"Enough already," Fan Jiancheng grabbed her hand. "I went gambling. Don’t be so paranoid."
" I’m paranoid?" Zhao Shuhui stared at him in disbelief. "How dare you call me paranoid? Don’t you know what you’ve done?! And you still have the nerve to go on TV? Now everyone knows you cheated! Have you even thought about Wenwen? Do you have any shame left?!"
"Would people not know I cheated if I didn’t go on TV?" Fan Jiancheng leaned closer. "I’m clearing my name. Plus, I get to be on TV and get paid—never had a deal this good before."
Seeing the mix of anger and worry in his wife’s eyes, Fan Jiancheng tried to placate her. "It’s just cheating. I’m not a woman—what’s the big deal? Every man cheats. If you don’t make a fuss, who else cares?"
Zhao Shuhui stared at him in utter disbelief. She had never imagined that one day, Fan Jiancheng would say such things to her.
Ever since the verdict was announced, Fan Jiancheng seemed completely unrestrained, no longer pretending to be the model husband he once was in front of her.
She had glimpsed the darkest side of him and chosen to tolerate it. For Fan Jiancheng, this was a clear signal of where her limits lay.
Fan Jiancheng pried her hand away and hummed softly as he headed toward the bedroom.
Watching him walk into the room, Zhao Shuhui suddenly couldn’t hold back any longer. She rushed after him, lunged forward, and began hitting him wildly.
"You bastard! You utter bastard!"
"Are you insane?!"
Fan Jiancheng slapped Zhao Shuhui hard across the face. The force sent her tumbling onto the bed. Fan Jiancheng touched his cheek, wincing slightly as his fingers brushed over the scratches she had left. "What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Transfer all the money to my account. Put the house under Wenwen’s name," Zhao Shuhui lifted her head, clutching her face, her expression frantic. "Or I’ll report you."
Hearing this, Fan Jiancheng remained unfazed. He unbuttoned his shirt, planted his hands on his hips, and delivered another brutal slap. Zhao Shuhui cried out in pain as Fan Jiancheng pressed her head down into the pillow, suffocating her.
"Are you out of your damn mind?"
Zhao Shuhui struggled desperately, unable to breathe. Her muffled screams were lost in the pillow.Fan Jiancheng pressed her head down, reminding her, "I'm the one earning money for this family. Without me, what would Wenwen and you eat? Drink? Think carefully—what have you done for this household? I brave wind and rain outside while you stay home as the comfortable housewife. My stress is immense, and I need to release it outside," he grabbed her hair and yanked her up, pulling her close, "What are you making such a fuss about here?"
"The evidence is in my hands," Zhao Shuhui trembled, panting. "Fan Jiancheng, don’t push it."
"Your mom is threatening me?" Fan Jiancheng couldn’t help but laugh in anger at this. He gently brushed Zhao Shuhui’s face, "Zhao Shuhui, get this straight—if you report me, you won’t escape either. Then it won’t just be me going to jail. Wenwen would lose both parents."
Zhao Shuhui froze. Fan Jiancheng picked her up, turning her back to him, and held her in his arms. The vanity mirror reflected their figures—her face bruised, her whole body a mess, while Fan Jiancheng’s face pressed against hers tenderly. "If I’m guilty, aren’t you too? Shut up. You’ve already gotten so much. Just like before, don’t ask questions, and we’ll keep living in peace. Otherwise," he pinched her face, forcing her to turn and look, "no one will have it easy."
Zhao Shuhui couldn’t speak. She stared at their distorted reflections in the mirror, trembling lightly, wanting to cry but not daring to make a sound, afraid of waking the still-sleeping child.
She remembered the year they got married, when Fan Jiancheng shyly promised to treat her well for the rest of their lives.
She wanted to ask—how did that promise turn into this?
Fan Jiancheng, do you still remember what you said?
The rain poured all night. When Ye Sibei woke up the next morning, she saw the sky outside clear and blue. Lazing in bed, she listened to the clinking sounds from the kitchen.
After a while, she got up and went to the room, where she saw Qin Nan cooking. Leaning against the doorframe, she watched him quietly until he noticed her and smiled. "Awake?"
"Not going to the shop?"
"I’ll head out after making you breakfast."
As he spoke, Qin Nan scooped rice noodles into a bowl and sprinkled chopped scallions on top.
They ate together, and Qin Nan casually brought up, "We’re leaving at the end of the month. Anything you want to do before then?"
Ye Sibei thought for a moment. "Not really," she said after a pause. "Before we go, I’d like to visit Grandma and some relatives, and also see Teacher Yang."
Qin Nan’s movements faltered slightly. He took a bite of noodles, feigning ignorance. "Teacher Yang?"
"My homeroom teacher from high school, Yang Qiyu. A really good person."
Ye Sibei ate as she absentmindedly reminisced. "In my senior year, I almost couldn’t continue studying. She told me about a donation program, applied for a spot for me, and got me 20,000 yuan in direct funding to keep me going."
"That’s really kind of her," Qin Nan nodded. "We should thank her properly. What about the donor? Do you know who it was?"
Ye Sibei shook her head. "No."
After a pause, she added, "If I knew, I’d definitely thank them properly. But," she hesitated, "maybe later. Right now, I don’t have anything to offer."
"Then later it is," Qin Nan agreed. "I’ll earn more money, and we’ll go thank them properly."The two chatted as they ate. After finishing the rice noodles, Ye Sibei urged Qin Nan to go to the shop while she stayed home to wash the dishes.
As she scrubbed the bowls, her mind was racing.
Next Wednesday, September 20th—that was her best opportunity.
If Fan Jiancheng died, she would be the prime suspect. So she needed a perfect alibi, something that would completely exonerate her.
If she survived, all the better—she and Qin Nan could leave everything behind and start fresh.
If she didn’t make it…
Well, it wouldn’t matter.
Lost in these thoughts, she finished washing the dishes and walked over to the desk, opening the train ticket booking page.
She pulled out a notebook, meticulously calculating the timing.
From Nancheng to G City, the slow train took 24 hours—departing at 5 PM and arriving at 5 PM the next day. But if she took a long-distance express bus, it would only take 10 hours.
If she bought a ticket from Nancheng to G City, boarded at Nancheng, and got off at the second stop, Huaishui, at 5:30 PM, then traveled from Huaishui to the vicinity of the casino, she could meet Fan Jiancheng by 7 PM. After handling everything, she could take a 10-hour express bus directly to Yunwen County, the stop before G City, arriving by 3:30 PM. Then, using someone else’s ticket, she could enter the station and finally exit G City’s train station at 5 PM with her own ticket.
This way, surveillance footage and ticket records from Nancheng and G City would show her presence, and as long as no one checked the entry and exit footage from Huaishui and Yunwen, she’d have her alibi.
The risks were high, but there was no better plan.
Once she made her decision, Ye Sibei immediately got up, determined to test the route she had prepared.
She took the train to Huaishui, disembarked, and found an unlicensed cab driver to take her to the casino. Along the way, she noted the timing and kept the driver’s contact number.
From that day on, whenever Qin Nan was out, she would put on a hat and a mask and go out to make all the necessary preparations—buying tickets, preparing gloves, the weapon…
Sometimes she felt exhausted, and in those moments, she would go stand near the entrance of Fuqiang Real Estate and watch Fan Jiancheng.
Every time she saw him, she felt her weariness fade.
All her attention, all her focus, was fixed on Fan Jiancheng.
Her mind was consumed by one thought—she would make him pay.
It hadn’t always been like this.
Before, no matter how numb or how much she suffered, even at the moment it happened, this case had never been her whole world. She had always wanted to escape, to have a better life, so she fought—struggling to survive, yet also tormented by thoughts of death.
But now, she thought of nothing else. Her mind was entirely occupied by this one thing.
She had to end it, so she could move forward.
While she was doing all this, Qin Nan had been following her. But she was so absorbed in her own thoughts that she barely noticed her surroundings, let alone him.
She liked to jot down her plans in a small notebook, using strange symbols. Qin Nan would sneak a look while she slept, but he could barely understand most of it—though some numbers were clear enough.
He didn’t dare speak up. He didn’t know how to. He knew what she was planning, knew he couldn’t stop her, but he also couldn’t just stand by and watch.
Every time he saw her standing far from the entrance of Fuqiang Real Estate, staring at Fan Jiancheng as he walked out, he felt the same helpless agony he had as a child, watching his father’s bones being broken, hearing his cries of pain on the ground.
Watching everything unfold, powerless to stop it.
On Saturday, as they ate, Ye Sibei suddenly said, “I’m thinking of taking a trip soon, just for a little while.”Qin Nan paused for a moment, sensing something in that instant.
Pretending to know nothing, he picked up some food with his chopsticks: "Where to? Am I coming along?"
"I want to take a walk alone. Planning to go to City G."
"When?"
"Wednesday," Ye Sibei smiled. "I've already bought the tickets. Don't blame me for acting first and reporting later."
Qin Nan nodded without speaking. Ye Sibei studied him: "Are you angry?"
"When are you going to see Teacher Yang?"
Qin Nan showed little expression. Seeing no objection, Ye Sibei relaxed and replied, "How about tomorrow? I'll call to ask."
Qin Nan gave an affirmative sound.
That night, Qin Nan got up and opened her notebook under the moonlight, finding three train tickets: South City to City G, South City to Huaishui, and Yunwen to City G.
He checked the departure and arrival times. The South City to City G train left at 17:00 and arrived at City G at 17:05.
The next stop after Huaishui was at 17:30, while Yunwen was the stop before City G, arriving at 15:30.
These numbers matched the ones Ye Sibei had recorded in her notebook.
Qin Nan closed the notebook with the tickets inside and went into the bathroom.
Sitting on the toilet, he covered his face, swallowing all sounds.
He realized what Ye Sibei intended to do, but also knew the plan carried immense risks. If Fan Jiancheng resisted beyond expectations or if the police checked the surveillance in Huaishui and Yunwen, Ye Sibei would be exposed.
Yet she had still chosen to proceed.
What should he do?
Stop her, or not?
Even if he stopped her this time, there would be a next. This was her obsession, a thorn in her heart—if not removed, it would remain forever.
If he didn’t stop her, would she succeed? And even if she did, would her heart ever find peace?
He didn’t know.
At the beginning, he thought he could shield Ye Sibei from the storm. But now, he realized he was no different from that helpless child years ago.
Unable to protect his father, and now unable to protect Ye Sibei.
All along, he had stood by her side, watching her endure everything. He couldn’t shield her from public scorn, from the Fan family’s arrogance, from losing the first trial—and now, he couldn’t stop her from walking this path of no return.
What could he do?
Nothing.
In the darkness, he clenched his fists, silent tears falling. After a long while, he heard Ye Sibei’s drowsy murmur: "Qin Nan?"
"Yeah," he controlled his voice, sounding as usual. "In the bathroom."
Ye Sibei didn’t ask further, as if she had just woken briefly before drifting back to sleep.
Qin Nan steadied his emotions in the bathroom and returned to lie beside her.
The next morning, Ye Sibei busied herself preparing to take him to see Yang Qiyu. She picked out clothes for him, casually saying, "On Monday, I’ll take you to see my grandmas. The folks back home are nice, but old-fashioned. If they say anything unpleasant, don’t mind it. Tuesday... do you have anything you’d like to arrange?"
"You’re going on a trip," Qin Nan looked down at the woman adjusting his collar, "not coming back. Why pack the schedule so full?"
"Right." Ye Sibei glanced up at him and smiled. "I’m being too hasty."
Once dressed, Ye Sibei drove Qin Nan to No. 2 High School.
Yang Qiyu lived in the teachers' dormitory there. Following Ye Sibei’s directions, Qin Nan parked outside the school, and they entered together.Ye Sibei had called Yang Qiyu in advance, and Yang Qiyu was already waiting downstairs. When he saw Ye Sibei and Qin Nan, he waved cheerfully, "Sibei, over here."
"Teacher Yang."
Spotting Yang Qiyu, Ye Sibei happily pulled Qin Nan along as they ran toward him. Yang Qiyu paused slightly at the sight of Qin Nan but quickly composed himself, turning to Ye Sibei. "Is this your husband?"
Ye Sibei nodded and introduced them. "This is Qin Nan. Qin Nan, this is my teacher," she said, gesturing to Yang Qiyu.
Qin Nan bowed respectfully and greeted, "Teacher Yang."
Yang Qiyu forced a smile and glanced at them both. "Time flies—you’ve grown up so much."
Then, as if remembering something, he added, "Oh, your teacher’s wife has already prepared the dishes. Let’s head upstairs."
"She’s not our teacher’s wife," Ye Sibei teased as she followed behind Yang Qiyu. "She’s my teacher’s wife alone."
"Once you’re married, you’re family," Yang Qiyu chided, ignoring her joke. "Your teacher’s wife is his teacher’s wife too."
The three of them chatted as they entered the house. Hearing the commotion, Yang’s wife hurried out. When she saw Ye Sibei and Qin Nan, she froze for a moment before quickly ushering them in. "Come, have a seat."
Ye Sibei had given Yang Qiyu a heads-up, so the Yang family was well-prepared. The dishes were soon served, and the couple, along with their young daughter, sat down to chat with Ye Sibei.
Ye Sibei had visited Yang Qiyu every year or two, so they weren’t exactly strangers.
The Yang family made no mention of recent events, giving Ye Sibei the illusion that nothing had happened at all. She felt unusually relaxed and talked more freely, while Qin Nan sat beside her, occasionally pouring wine for Yang Qiyu.
Though not yet forty, Yang Qiyu loved to drink. Ye Sibei joined him for a couple of glasses and soon grew tipsy. As the alcohol took effect, his eyes reddened, and he sighed repeatedly while looking at her. "Child, why has fate been so unkind to you?"
Ye Sibei was used to such remarks and remained expressionless, but Qin Nan quickly refilled Yang Qiyu’s glass and urged, "Teacher Yang, let’s not talk about that. Drink more."
Yang Qiyu turned to Qin Nan in a daze, then after a moment, grabbed his hand and patted his shoulder. "You’re a good kid."
He then turned back to Ye Sibei. "Qin Nan is a good kid. You must treat him well. Don’t let him down. No matter what happens, you have to keep moving forward. What’s past doesn’t matter—only what’s ahead is worth thinking about."
"Yeah."
Ye Sibei smiled and nodded. "You’re right, Teacher."
Yang Qiyu rambled on for a while before growing drowsy. Not wanting to overstay their welcome, Ye Sibei and Qin Nan bid their farewells and left.
It was still early afternoon. After a moment’s thought, Ye Sibei turned to Qin Nan. "Have you ever been to No. 2 High School? Want me to show you around?"
Qin Nan hesitated, then nodded. "Sure."
Ye Sibei took his hand and led him through the school buildings, pointing out landmarks. "That’s Building One, and this is Building Two. I used to study here—on this floor."
She gestured vaguely toward a level before tugging him along in a light jog.
The main entrance to the building was locked. Qin Nan glanced at her. "Should we go?"
"I have a way."
Ye Sibei pulled him to the back of the building, where a window was slightly ajar. She stretched to reach it, then turned to him. "Find me a stool?"Although it was said they were looking for a stool, Qin Nan understood the intention and smiled. Without hesitation, he lifted Ye Sibei up, allowing her to quickly climb onto the glass window, which was nearly as tall as her, and leap over it.
Qin Nan helped her inside, then effortlessly vaulted over the window himself with a light jump.
Ye Sibei tugged at him and jogged upstairs, chatting about their high school days as they went.
The school building had been renovated, but the overall layout remained the same—a square structure with long corridors crisscrossing through it. Ye Sibei pointed to her former classroom and her old seat: "That’s where I used to sit."
Qin Nan didn’t respond, silently gazing at the spot. For a moment, his mind flashed back to his younger days when he’d wake up from a long nap in class and see the scene before him.
A girl in a school uniform, her hair tied in a ponytail, diligently taking notes with a serious expression.
Amidst the chorus of reading voices, that girl would sometimes glance back through the window—as if she saw him, or perhaps not.
"I was in the top class, but over there," Ye Sibei pointed to the classroom across from hers, "was the worst class in our school. But Teacher Yang taught both—she was my Chinese teacher and their homeroom teacher."
"Are you discriminating against underachievers?" Qin Nan turned to her, his tone half-joking, half-serious.
Ye Sibei hurriedly clarified, "Absolutely not! I was just afraid they’d resent me for working so hard."
"How could that be?" Qin Nan laughed. Ye Sibei tugged at him again. "Come on, I’ll take you to the rooftop."
They walked up to the rooftop together, looking down at the school from above.
Ye Sibei pointed out various buildings, describing how they used to be and how they were now.
"That over there used to be the flag-raising platform," she said, gesturing toward the rubber track. "Every Monday, each class would choose their best student to give a speech. I got to do it once."
"What did you talk about?" Qin Nan turned to her. "Study hard?"
"Of course I gave an inspirational speech," Ye Sibei replied without a hint of embarrassment, recalling those days. "I wrote the script myself. Teacher Yang said it was really good. I still remember the title—"
Her voice softened, but she still spoke the words: "‘The Best is Always Yet to Come.’"
The afternoon breeze brushed gently against their faces. Neither spoke for a while. After a moment, Qin Nan asked, "Did you really believe that?"
"At the time, I did."
"And now?"
Ye Sibei didn’t answer immediately. After a pause, she smiled and turned to him. "Once we get past Wednesday and go to the provincial capital, I probably will again."
Once she settled everything—whether it meant starting anew or ending it all.
Qin Nan watched her, his mind drifting back to that year when he had looked up in a sea of people. The girl stood high above, her voice rising and falling with conviction.
"We strive, we fight, we endure the darkest times, and a bright future is within our grasp."
"There is no hardship we cannot overcome, no despair we cannot endure."
In that moment, bathed in the morning light, she had seemed like a beacon—like divinity itself.
That year, when he left the school, Teacher Yang had asked him, "Why?"
He had lowered his head and answered, "Because she is my hope."
She wasn’t love.
She was his faith—the only glimpse of light he had seen through the suffocating darkness.
"Sibei," he said, smiling. "Tuesday is my birthday. Can we celebrate together?"
Ye Sibei stiffened slightly, flustered. "I’ve already bought my ticket."
"Then have lunch with me?"Ye Sibei let out a sigh of relief and relaxed.
"Alright, I'll buy you a cake," Ye Sibei thought for a moment, then gestured with her hands, "a big one."
Qin Nan looked at her, paused for a while, then calmly asked, "Sibei, have you ever thought about what your life would be like without me?"
"What about you?" Ye Sibei countered, "What would your life be like without me?"
"Same as always," Qin Nan replied gently, "running a repair shop, living a good life."
"Then it's the same for me," Ye Sibei joked, "with or without you, I'll live a good life from now on."
Qin Nan didn't respond. Instead, she stepped forward, opened her arms, and pulled her into an embrace.
"That's great."
Softly murmuring, "I just like not entrusting my life to anyone."
"After all, this isn't a novel," Ye Sibei leaned into the embrace, her words tinged with bitterness yet spoken with a smile. "Where would we find so many people willing to pledge their lives? What we have is a down-to-earth life together."
Qin Nan didn't respond.
Holding her, he felt the warmth of the setting sun carried by the wind, gently enveloping them both.
Later, Ye Sibei came to understand.
Those who speak of love may not truly love.
Those who speak of indifference may harbor deep affection.
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