The pain struck suddenly and intensely. After taking some medicine, Xu Huaisong opened the door to find Lü Shenglan had already left. He then pulled back the covers and lay down on the bed.
He realized he might truly be a little sick in the head.
After Ruan Yu had slept under this blanket, he had instructed the hotel not to change it.
Thinking of this, he took out his phone to check, but suddenly froze the next moment.
The top message in his WeChat list showed he had sent a message to Ruan Yu.
But when he clicked into the chat, he saw she had already withdrawn her message before his account sent this "b."
Three seconds passed. Coming back to his senses, he got out of bed and walked to the living room to check his computer.
In the WeChat desktop version, the chat history with Ruan Yu had been deleted, leaving a blank record.
Intense courtroom debates required precise time management—a professional habit that allowed him to confirm with absolute certainty that he hadn’t left Lü Shenglan alone for long. From the moment he rushed into the bedroom, unable to bear the stomach pain, to when he heard the door close, only one minute had passed.
Comparing this with the timestamp of the message sent from his account, the incident had clearly occurred within that minute.
The truth was obvious.
Having grown up in the U.S., Lü Shenglan wasn’t familiar with WeChat, a platform commonly used in China. She must have thought deleting the desktop chat history would cover her tracks, unaware that the mobile app retained a synchronized backup.
Moreover, the timing was too tight—she had clearly acted impulsively without premeditation, leaving no time to fully understand the app’s functions.
Xu Huaisong took a deep breath, closed his eyes briefly, then picked up his phone and typed: What did you withdraw?
There was no reply for a long time. Just as he was about to call, Ruan Yu responded: I sent it by mistake, so I withdrew it. Sorry about that, Lawyer Xu.
He believed she truly had sent it by mistake. Lü Shenglan must have realized this from the withdrawal and was confident Ruan Yu wouldn’t mention it later, which was why she dared to do it.
But this only made it clearer—the message was crucial.
Right now, however, Ruan Yu likely interpreted his "What did you withdraw?" as "Why did you withdraw?" rather than "What was the content you withdrew?"
Losing patience for wordplay, he called her directly.
She took a long time to answer, perhaps weighing her words.
But he had no room for deliberation.
The moment he saw that "b," his blood ran cold. Now, an unknown panic gripped him so tightly that he couldn’t even feel the stomach pain anymore.
He cut straight to the point: "What I mean is, I didn’t receive your message. What did you withdraw?"
"Huh?" Ruan Yu sounded equally surprised. "Then how did you reply to me?"
Gritting his teeth, he said, "It wasn’t me." He repeated, "What did you withdraw?"
Silence followed on the other end before she finally said, "It doesn’t matter... I sent it by mistake anyway..."
Xu Huaisong turned around, grabbed his car keys, and headed out immediately. "Are you at your new apartment?"
Half an hour later, Ruan Yu heard the doorbell ring.
From the moment she received Xu Huaisong’s "b," suspecting he was subtly telling her not to overthink things, to his phone call later, where she sensed his barely restrained urgency and anger, to these past thirty minutes—constantly imagining what might happen next, dismissing one possibility, then another, over and over—she felt like she’d been on a rollercoaster of highs and lows.
Now, at this moment, she suddenly felt too afraid to open the door.She walked to the door, checked the peephole, then spoke through the final barrier between them: "You... what are you doing here?"
"Open the door."
Xu Huaisong's voice sounded remarkably calm now, seemingly devoid of the gritted-teeth tone from their earlier phone call.
Only then did Ruan Yu dare to open the door.
But in the next instant, she was pulled forward by a tremendous force, tumbling into arms she'd fantasized about countless times.
Except this embrace wasn't as gentle as she'd imagined—Xu Huaisong seemed intent on crushing her with every ounce of his strength.
The sudden oxygen deprivation left Ruan Yu without even the breath to scream. All she could feel was his scorching breath against her shoulder, stimulating her nerve endings as it seeped inch by inch into her skin.
After five seconds of mental paralysis, she began trying to shrink back.
Xu Huaisong immediately released her.
Yet his gaze remained fixed on her face.
Ruan Yu looked up to meet his eyes. In that brief moment, she saw crashing waves against shores, sunrises and moonsets, white waterfalls suspended midair with pearls of spray—all the vastness and grandeur of the world. And finally, she saw herself.
Only herself.
They say eyes can speak.
In this instant, though he said nothing, she seemed to understand the unspoken words in the air.
Even though she couldn't comprehend why Xu Huaisong would suddenly direct such long-suppressed emotions at her.
After the initial shock, she opened and closed her mouth several times before finally asking, as if not daring to ask: "What's wrong with you..."
In response, like a child refusing to give up without candy, he repeated: "I want to know what exactly you unsent."
Though he used the emphatic "exactly," Ruan Yu didn't find his tone forceful at all.
Instead, it sounded slightly wounded.
Originally, upon realizing he hadn't received the message, she'd resolved never to admit what she'd sent. But in this moment of overwhelming stimulation and shock, she did something even she couldn't explain—she handed him her phone.
The screen displayed her conversation with Shen Mingying.
Shen Mingying's latest reply read: Who asked you this, or are you researching for your writing? Honestly, aren't options a and b the same answer?
Options a and b were indeed the same answer. Both "Let me introduce someone to you" and "What do you think of me?" led to the same conclusion.
Her heart pounded as she awaited Xu Huaisong's reaction. Then she saw his gaze lift from the screen to lock onto her eyes: "Hmm, aren't options a and b the same answer?"
His counterquestion was eerily calm.
Yet Ruan Yu's mind exploded with white light.
In moments of extreme tension, people sometimes experience a paradoxical state. Like now—though Ruan Yu had completely lost awareness of her limbs, she remained perfectly still.
After what felt like ten full seconds, she finally reacted with an awkward chuckle: "Oh, how silly of me to keep you standing here so long..." She gestured him inside, "I just finished packing some luggage and haven't cleaned yet, so just keep your shoes on."
When she turned back, Xu Huaisong still stood at the threshold.
Another few seconds of stiffness passed before she spoke again: "Aren't you coming in?"
Finally, Xu Huaisong stepped across that threshold.Ruan Yu invited her to sit on the sofa: "Let me make you some tea!" As she spoke, she turned to head to the kitchen but stopped after a couple of steps, glancing back at the phone in his hand—her phone. "Ah, look at my memory. Forgot my phone. Can I have it back?"
She hurried into the kitchen, closed the door, and nearly collapsed to the floor from weak knees.
Patting her chest to calm herself, she leaned against the door, pulled out her phone, and typed with trembling fingers.
SOS! SOS! Calling Shen Mingying!
Emergency situation, requesting backup!
This is not a drill!
Repeat, this is NOT a drill!
Shen Mingying was jolted awake by her frantic messages: What’s all the fuss about? Did Xu Huaisong confess to you?
Soft Jade: I’m afraid so!
Or rather, he already did?
Shen Mingying: …
Shen Mingying: I was just joking. Seriously?
Shen Mingying: Do you need emergency heart pills right now?
Ruan Yu clutched her wildly pounding heart: I’ll survive for now.
Shen Mingying: So what are you gonna do?
If she knew, would she be hiding in the kitchen?
Shen Mingying: Did he seriously ask you out, or just admit he likes you?
Soft Jade: The latter.
Shen Mingying: And how do you feel about him?
Soft Jade: If you ask me so suddenly, I can’t really say…
She had truly thought she was over him. But ever since that night when his attitude suddenly changed, she couldn’t help but speculate about his intentions.
Because it was so unbelievable, she hadn’t allowed herself to dwell on it—on what kind of intentions she hoped he had.
But just like how the moment a coin lands, you realize whether you wanted heads or tails, the instant she saw that "b," she understood that what she might have been hoping for was "a."
But whether this hope stemmed from "rekindled feelings" or just "force of habit," she couldn’t yet say.
After all, Xu Huaisong seemed like a completely different person now, nothing like the version she once knew. Trying to measure him by past impressions made her feel like she was losing her mind.
Shen Mingying sent another message: Alright, forget about dissecting your feelings. After all these years, you finally have a chance—just go for it and claim him. If it doesn’t work out, dump him later. At least then you can move on with your life. But if you run away or reject him now, I guarantee you’ll never get over it.
Soft Jade: Claim him?
Shen Mingying: Yeah, claim him—don’t let him claim you. I mean, during intense activities, you should be on top.
Soft Jade: …
After a long, chaotic discussion with Shen Mingying, Ruan Yu didn’t rush to open the kitchen door. Instead, she turned back and slowly boiled water.
Once it was ready, she poured a cup of plain water, took deep breaths to steady herself, and finally pulled the door open.
Xu Huaisong, still on the sofa, looked up and fixed his gaze on her.
She lowered her eyes briefly, recalling Shen Mingying’s advice, then asked calmly, "Who replied to my message using your WeChat?"
Xu Huaisong didn’t hide it: "The colleague you met before."
"Ah, Miss Lü." She set the water down on the coffee table in front of him and then… said nothing else.
Just when Xu Huaisong expected her to press further, she abruptly stopped, breaking the usual script.
It was like swinging a golf club with full force, only to look down and find the ball still lounging peacefully on the grass, basking in the sun.
After a while, she finally spoke again—but what she said was, "She seems pretty capable at her job."
"…"What does professional competence mean?
Xu Huaisong opened his mouth but then closed it again, feeling that no matter how he responded, it would be a death sentence.
After a long silence, he said bluntly, "She was my university classmate and a colleague at the law firm. Beyond that, there’s no other relationship between us. You can handle this matter however you want."
"Handle what?" Ruan Yu countered.
Xu Huaisong swung his metaphorical bat and missed again.
But he couldn’t retreat any further.
He asked, "Aren’t you angry?"
"You seem angrier than I am." Ruan Yu smiled and glanced at the time on her phone. "It’s already five o’clock."
He looked up. "What about it?"
Keeping in mind the importance of maintaining the "home-field advantage," she put on a bold front and asked, "Want to grab dinner?"
Author’s Note: I thought everyone was already used to me being someone who thrives on "reversals" and "subverting expectations." The trust between people is truly so fragile. qaq I’m updating early to save my life.
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