Wen Tingli said urgently, “Please tell him I have something extremely important to discuss with him in person. No matter what, I’ll wait here for him—please, I beg you, pass the message along.”

Manager Liu glanced at the strikingly brilliant ruby necklace around Wen Tingli’s neck, hesitated slightly, then nodded. “It’s pouring out there, Miss Wen, please come in and wait.”

This gatehouse was set inside the side entrance, roughly twenty-some square meters in size, with a sofa and chairs for visitors to rest. But once inside, Wen Tingli simply stood there motionless.

Her heart felt as if it were being fried in oil—all she could do was wait.

Manager Liu took over ten minutes before returning.

“Miss Wen, please go home. Mr. Lu won’t see you.”

“Did you tell him it was Miss Wen asking for him?! I really do have something extremely important to tell him!”

“I told him, I told him everything.” Manager Liu appeared endlessly patient, yet his tone left absolutely no room for negotiation. “Young Master Cheng doesn’t wish to see you. Miss Wen, please don’t put us in a difficult position. Please go.”

Wen Tingli was thus “shown” out of the Lu family’s gatehouse. Manager Liu, being kind-hearted, tucked an umbrella into her hands as he saw her out.

Wen Tingli stood at the gate in a daze, that phrase “he doesn’t wish to see you” like a sharp nail driven straight into her mind, making her temples throb painfully. Unwilling to give up, she stepped forward to knock on the door again, but this time no one came to answer at all. Turning back blankly, she saw the car parked ahead—the two attendants, unaware of what had happened, had been waiting for her by the car this whole time.

Seeing them, a flicker of hope rekindled in Wen Tingli’s despairing heart—Lu Shicheng hadn’t withdrawn them. Perhaps, perhaps he was only angry in the moment, and she just needed to make him believe: she hadn’t been acting in front of him, he mattered to her more than anything.

He would surely calm down eventually.

She kept waiting outside the gate, raindrops splashing under her umbrella, soaking half her clothes, the chill seeping straight into her bones.

She knew the Lu mansion had always been heavily guarded—someone would surely report what was happening outside the gate to Lu Shicheng. She couldn’t believe he’d have the heart to shut her out forever.

But she guessed wrong. After Manager Liu left, no one came to greet her again, nor did anyone come to chase her away either.

The Lu mansion before her looked like a slumbering beast, immensely dark, immensely cold.

She suspected that even if she waited in the rain until dawn, Lu Shicheng still wouldn’t pay her any mind.

Just then, two beams of pure white light suddenly lit up in the previously pitch-dark Lu family garden.

It was a car.

The car sped forward, quickly pulling onto the main drive in front of the flower beds, and as the two headlights drew closer and closer, the Lu family’s tightly shut gates finally opened.

But it wasn’t Lu Shicheng seated inside—it was Kuang Zhilin.

Wen Tingli wasn’t disappointed—even Kuang Zhilin was a hundred times better than that hopeless waiting just now.

“Mr. Kuang, please let me in, I want to see Mr. Lu.”

Kuang Zhilin looked at Wen Tingli with a strange, unfamiliar expression, and with just this one look, the hope in Wen Tingli’s heart already dimmed somewhat.

That wary look had returned to Kuang Zhilin’s face once more.

Sure enough, he only said very politely: “Miss Wen, it’s too late, and the rain’s too heavy, I’ll have someone take you home.”

“No, I won’t leave until I’ve seen Mr. Lu. Mr. Kuang, please pass along a message for me—there’s been a misunderstanding between Mr. Lu and me, I just need to see him for one moment and I’ll go.”

Kuang Zhilin said helplessly: “Miss Wen, you should understand clearly that I’m only ever responsible for passing along messages, I can’t make any decisions on Young Master Cheng’s behalf. What I just said was Young Master Cheng’s own words—he’s asking you to leave the Lu mansion immediately.”

Wen Tingli’s face went white—even the heaviest rain pouring down on her head couldn’t chill her as thoroughly as that single sentence.

She vaguely heard Kuang Zhilin sigh.

“Please escort Miss Wen home.”

Wen Tingli’s heart hardened, and she let go of the umbrella handle, closing her eyes and collapsing beside the car.

Raindrops immediately pattered onto her face, but she lay there without moving at all, and heard Kuang Zhilin cry out in alarm: “Miss Wen? Miss Wen!”

Wen Tingli refused to open her eyes—no matter what it took, she had to see Lu Shicheng one more time or she wouldn’t rest.

But she’d overestimated her own strength. Collapsing like this in the rain, she truly did pass out.

She had no idea how long she’d been unconscious when Wen Tingli was woken by some strange commotion.

Opening her eyes, what came into view was a tall French-style ceiling. Her thoughts still felt a bit hazy, and she turned her head groggily on the pillow, unexpectedly catching sight of a beautiful window.

Wen Tingli sat up abruptly—she’d been in this room before. It was the guest room on the first floor of the Lu mansion, the same one Lu Shicheng had had her placed in that time she sprained her ankle.

No mistake, outside the window was indeed a corner of the Lu family garden, and what had just woken her was the sound of birds chirping in that garden.

Her heart leapt with joy.

Without Lu Shicheng’s permission, who would dare place her in the Lu family’s guest room—it seemed that after learning she’d fainted last night, Lu Shicheng had softened toward her after all.

She hurriedly got out of bed to put on her shoes. A bowl of congee sat on the bedside table, which delighted her all the more. Just then, an old servant woman quietly pushed the door open—it was Mama Liu, who had cared for Wen Tingli that previous time.

“Miss Wen, you’re awake.”

“Mama Liu, sorry to trouble you again.”

Mama Liu said warmly: “Don’t say that. The doctor said there’s nothing seriously wrong with you, just too emotionally worked up. Miss Wen, eat something first, I’ll go tell Mr. Kuang you’re awake.”

She handed Wen Tingli the tray in her hands, containing tooth powder and towels.

Wen Tingli called out to Mama Liu’s retreating back: “Was it Mr. Lu who had someone bring me in here last night?”

“That’s right. Young Master Cheng heard from Mr. Kuang that you’d fainted, and rushed to have you carried inside, even sending for Dr. Louis in the middle of the night to examine you.”

Wen Tingli’s heart warmed sweetly. She took the towel and tooth powder and went into the washroom to freshen up thoroughly.

Coming out, Mama Liu hadn’t yet returned, so she slowly finished the bowl of congee.

Before long, Mama Liu came back.

“Mr. Kuang would like Miss Wen to come to the living room to see him.”

Wen Tingli hurriedly followed Mama Liu out. In the living room, the French doors leading to the garden stood wide open, like a door opened onto heaven itself, sunlight, fresh air, and pleasant floral fragrance continuously flowing into the room.

Kuang Zhilin sat alone in the sunlight reading the newspaper. Seeing Wen Tingli, he quickly set down his coffee cup and newspaper.

“Miss Wen, please sit.”

Wen Tingli looked around, but didn’t see Lu Shicheng.

Kuang Zhilin waved away the servants in the room.

“Young Master Cheng isn’t home, he left early this morning for the office to see to some matters, and tonight he’ll be departing for Nanyang.”

“What?” Wen Tingli’s whole body jolted.

“There’s plenty of pressing business waiting in Nanyang already. Young Master Cheng had delayed his departure precisely because he was reluctant to part with Miss Wen. But after last night… Young Master Cheng seems to feel there’s no longer any need for further delay, so he’s decided to depart as soon as possible.”

Wen Tingli lost all composure: “When will he come back?”

“Uncertain.”

“Does he never want to see me again?”

Kuang Zhilin hesitated, clearly wanting to say something but holding back.

Wen Tingli blurted out: “If he never wants to see me again, why did he still bother about whether I lived or died last night? Wouldn’t it have been easier just to let me die in the rain?!”

“Miss Wen, please calm down.”

Wen Tingli sank back into the sofa, covering her face with both hands.

Kuang Zhilin sighed: “I’m not entirely clear on what exactly happened between you and Young Master Cheng, but you should understand Young Master Cheng’s character well enough by now—he’s always been someone who considers things carefully, never acts on impulse. For him to do this, he must have thought it through carefully, over an entire night.”

Wen Tingli wept quietly: “I refuse to believe he’d be this ruthless! Won’t he even give me one chance to explain?”

She rarely let others see her pain and vulnerability exposed like this, but this time was different.

Before last night, she and Lu Shicheng had still been so close.

He had liked her so much, treasured her like a precious gem, treated her with his whole heart.

The two of them together had always been so in sync, so happy.

She’d thought they would go on being this close forever.

Who could have known that in just one night—

From heaven to hell, just like that!

She refused to accept it, refused to give up even in death! To keep Kuang Zhilin from seeing the tears in her eyes, she stubbornly turned her head away, and after a long silence, said hoarsely: “I want to write him a letter—could I trouble Mr. Kuang to pass it along to Mr. Lu…”

“That’s no problem, but I must remind Miss Wen that Young Master Cheng never drags his feet when handling matters, and this—”

He paused.

“This relates to how Young Master Cheng grew up. Since childhood, he’s been surrounded by far more people scheming and guarding against him than people who cared for him sincerely. But precisely because of this, once he senses someone’s sincere devotion, he’ll return it wholeheartedly. Which is why, from the day Young Master Cheng decided to be with Miss Wen, he entrusted you with his complete trust and care. This much, Miss Wen must already know herself.”

Tears began welling in Wen Tingli’s eyes again.

“But once he discovers he’s been played or deceived, there’s absolutely no turning back for Young Master Cheng either. If he weren’t this resolute in character, given his upbringing, he’d have been destroyed by others long ago. I can pass your letter along, but whether Young Master Cheng will even read it, I can’t say. And even if he does read it, he may well not change his mind—please prepare yourself for that possibility, Miss Wen.”

Wen Tingli said nothing.

Kuang Zhilin stood to see her out: “Miss Wen, please head home for now. Just deliver the letter to my office downstairs before noon.”

The moment Wen Tingli walked through her own front door, Zhou Sao rushed up to her, worry written all over her face: “Where were you all night? Did you fight with Mr. Lu?”

Wen Tingli walked into her room in a daze, leaning her back against the door, closing her eyes wearily to let out a breath. Opening her eyes again, she happened to glance at the contract on the table, and her heart immediately twisted with pain.

The title page of the contract had gotten rained on, the paper now somewhat wrinkled—she guessed Zhou Sao must have gone out to the veranda out of curiosity last night, hadn’t seen the two of them there, but stumbled upon this contract instead, and had simply picked it up and brought it back for her.

She didn’t want to look at that thing again, and stuffed it angrily into a drawer.

Sitting down, her mind in turmoil, she took out paper and pen to write to Lu Shicheng, and in doing so, her hand brushed against the letter Lu Shicheng had written her, still in her pocket.

Unfolding it, those lines of sincere, heartfelt words made her eyes sting the moment she looked at them, tears falling in large drops onto the paper.

But she quickly wiped her tears away, and bowing her head, wrote the first line with the utmost seriousness.

【I want to tell you a thousand times, ten thousand times, that I love you, I was never acting in front of you…】

At ten o’clock in the morning, Wen Tingli hurried to the foot of Lixin Bank carrying that letter.

Guessing that Kuang Zhilin had already spoken to the Indian doorman in advance, the moment Wen Tingli arrived, the man politely took the letter from her.

Wen Tingli watched him head into the building, knowing that from here on, all she could do was passively wait for news.

She waited until past eleven o’clock, when Kuang Zhilin finally sent someone downstairs with word—saying they’d just delivered her letter to Lu Shicheng, and that if Young Master Cheng’s attitude softened after reading it, he would surely come find her; she was advised not to keep waiting downstairs, but to go straight home to wait for news.

Wen Tingli thanked him repeatedly.

She returned home to wait with all her heart, but by evening, still no call from Lu Shicheng had come.

That letter seemed to have sunk without a trace, not stirring the slightest response.

She picked up her handbag and left the house. Kuang Zhilin had said Lu Shicheng would depart for Nanyang tonight—before then, he’d surely still be at Lixin Bank or Fenghua Building, seeing to matters.

She headed straight for Lixin Bank.

With her experience from the morning, the Indian doorman guarding Lixin Bank no longer showed any wariness toward Wen Tingli, and after Wen Tingli gave him a small tip, he willingly shared Lu Shicheng’s whereabouts: “Young Master Lu left at three this afternoon. If I heard correctly, Mr. Kuang mentioned to the driver they were headed to Zhenxing Building for a meeting.”

Wen Tingli resolutely hailed a car to Zhenxing Building.

But the doorman at this building’s entrance, not recognizing Wen Tingli, absolutely refused to reveal whether Lu Shicheng was still inside.

Wen Tingli had no choice but to find a window seat at a Western-run café across the street, so that the moment Lu Shicheng came out, she’d be able to see him.

She waited quietly for a while, then, her heart aching, took out a small vocabulary notebook from her bag and flipped through it—this was the same little notebook she and Lu Shicheng had used to communicate the very first time they’d dined together.

His handwriting was still on these pages.

【You ordered too much food.】

【Thank you.】

【If I hadn’t arrived in time, would Miss Wen have had anyone else to turn to for help?】

Reading these words felt just like seeing his handsome, calm face again.

The further she flipped through, the more bittersweet her heart grew.

Every word, every line, was a memory.

She sat brooding in the café, and outside, the sky gradually darkened. After a while, the streetlights along the road came on with their warm orange glow, reminding her of that period when Lu Shicheng used to come pick her up outside the studio, standing exactly under such a warm-lit streetlamp waiting for her—every time she came out and saw his tall, graceful figure, her heart would fill with a warm, intimate feeling.

How quickly this scene was about to become nothing but memory.

Her nose stung. Whether it was the notebook in her hand or the streetlights outside the window, anything connected to him left her aching with longing from the depths of her heart, making it impossible to let go easily.

Suddenly she saw a group of people in suits emerging from the foreign trading house across the way, and Wen Tingli’s eyes widened at once.

Lu Shicheng had come out. Many people surrounded him, talking about something, which made him seem even more distant. She couldn’t quite make out his expression for a moment, only knew he was about to leave.

Wen Tingli hurried out of the café, but instead of rushing toward him in front of everyone, she chose to stand quietly on this side of the street, gazing at him without a word.

Sure enough, someone soon spotted her and said something in Lu Shicheng’s ear.

Lu Shicheng paused, then turned to look across the street. She clutched the notebook filled with memories of the two of them, gazing at him pitifully.

She firmly believed that seeing her like this, Lu Shicheng’s heart would surely soften.

As expected, Lu Shicheng didn’t look away, gazing at her for a long moment instead. Wen Tingli felt the moment was right, and crossed the street toward him.

She needed to take the initiative. If she didn’t act now, she might never see him again.

Before Lu Shicheng could say anything, the crowd around him tactfully dispersed on their own, leaving only Kuang Zhilin behind.

Wen Tingli walked up to Lu Shicheng, looking at him with tear-filled eyes. One night apart, and he already looked haggard as if he’d been through a serious illness, his eyes somewhat reddened.

Looking closer, she was startled—no, that wasn’t right, he was running a fever.

So it turned out, last night, she hadn’t been the only one suffering through it.

“You’re sick?”

Lu Shicheng looked at her without a word.

“Did you read the letter I wrote you?”

Lu Shicheng remained unmoved. Wen Tingli wiped away her tears and held out the notebook to him.

“Do you have something to say to me? Then write it here.”

Lu Shicheng’s throat bobbed. Wen Tingli knew he must be recalling how they used to communicate before—from their very first time, this was exactly how they’d talked, even her words just now matched exactly how it had begun.

Before coming, she’d specially prepared a great deal—she’d written countless “I love you”s and “I’m sorry”s on the cover of the little notebook, so he’d only need to glance down to see them.

If only… if only he’d take it from her hand.

But Lu Shicheng only looked at her with a deep, cold gaze, then turned and pulled open the car door to get in.

Kuang Zhilin walked over and said in a lowered voice: “Miss Wen, please go.”

Wen Tingli kept her eyes fixed on Lu Shicheng inside the car. Lu Shicheng refused to turn his head to look at her again.

She finally felt a measure of despair.

Just as Kuang Zhilin had said, Lu Shicheng had grown up amid thorns, both parents dead, living day after day surrounded by wolves and tigers—this kind of upbringing made it very hard for him to forgive lies and deception. After this incident, there was no possibility he’d ever trust her again.

Her tears, her pitiful state, her suffering—in his eyes now, all of it was probably nothing but a convincing performance.

Kuang Zhilin continued gently beside her: “Young Master Cheng has already spoken with Dr. Louis. If Miss Wen feels unwell going forward, you can call Dr. Louis directly. As for the Lu mansion and Lixin Bank, please don’t call there anymore. First, Young Master Cheng won’t be back in Shanghai anytime soon; second, Young Master Cheng doesn’t wish for you to disturb his life any further.”

Throughout all this, Lu Shicheng never once glanced out the car window. It was as if an invisible wall had risen around him, keeping everyone at arm’s length.

Wen Tingli tilted her head back, forcing her tears back into her eyes, and resolutely turned to walk in the opposite direction.

After a moment, Lu Shicheng’s car started up without warning.

Wen Tingli didn’t stop walking, didn’t even look back, her steps unusually resolute. The moment the sound of the engine faded around the corner, she felt something inside her die.

That night, Wen Tingli came down with a fever.

Louis came by that very night with Nurse Melissa to check on her.

“Mr. Kuang said Miss Wen had only just left the hospital recently, and got caught in the rain again last night—worried she might fall ill, he specifically asked me to look after her before he left.”

Wen Tingli buried her head under the covers, listening to Louis speak with Zhou Sao.

Lu Shicheng had always been generous and thorough toward her—even now that the two of them had parted, she couldn’t find a single fault in him on this point.

But she understood clearly in her heart: from now on, he no longer belonged to her.

His gentleness, his loyalty, his consideration, his joys and sorrows—none of it had anything to do with her anymore.

She hardened her heart, forcing every trace of him from her mind, and turned over, falling into a deep sleep.