Even the curtains in the hospital room had been drawn shut. The hospital windows weren’t sealed too tightly, and outside the wind was strong, gusting through the gaps and making the curtains billow.

When the curtains were suddenly yanked back, only then would one discover that someone was crouched behind them.

She didn’t even dare to stand, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, as if trying to hide herself away entirely.

Qiao Qi stood by the bed, and in the light spilling in from the hallway, her gaze fell on Liang Xumo’s feet.

She thought of the way Liang Yan had looked at her just now — bewilderment shot through with unease, and finally, unmistakably, a flash of despair.

“He only found out today too.” Yu Min stood beside Qiao Qi, watching Liang Xumo along with her, her voice flat.

They both knew exactly who this “he” referred to.

Of course Qiao Qi knew Liang Yan had only found out today — hadn’t she told him herself, with her own mouth?

Told him, with her own mouth, that the person she had failed to keep as a child was named Cai Hong.

The person she had spent so long mourning, missing, was named Cai Hong.

But…

Qiao Qi’s gaze was still fixed on Liang Xumo’s feet, as if she were trying to see straight through the curtain to what Liang Xumo looked like.

Trying to find even the smallest trace of Cai Hong left in her.

There was none.

Nothing of Cai Hong remained at all.

As if the years had swallowed that girl whole, leaving in her place this woman who looked gentle and composed on the surface but whose every action fell short in every way.

“You said…” Qiao Qi’s voice came out dry, barely audible.

But the hospital room was so eerily quiet that even her faintest breath carried clearly.

“What did those words mean?” She forced her gaze from Liang Xumo to Yu Min.

What did it mean that Cai Hong had done something wrong.

What did it mean that the child the Liang family had originally meant to adopt was her.

So back then… Liang Xumo had deliberately sent her away, was that it?

It was as if she had spent years reading and memorizing one story by heart, and now someone was suddenly telling her that entire story was false, and there was another one she needed to understand instead.

So — was the old story the lie?

Or was it the years she had spent living inside that story that were the lie?

Qiao Qi didn’t know.

Nor could she accept it.

“That’s exactly what I meant.” Yu Min always carried herself as if nothing much mattered to her, but in truth her character was quite resilient, and she disliked repeating herself needlessly.

Sometimes the truth really could be rather ugly.

But the value of truth lies in its being true — not in whether it’s pretty.

“I know it might be hard for you to accept, all at once.” Yu Min paused, turning to meet Qiao Qi’s eyes.

She saw that Qiao Qi looked just like a lost child right now — just like Liang Yan.

They were both the most innocent parties in all of this.

And yet both had been pulled straight into the center of it.

“Honestly, it’s hard for Liang Yan to accept too, but more than that, he’s worried about you.”

“I…” Qiao Qi still had enough composure left. “I don’t blame him.”

What did any of this have to do with him, after all.

He too was, ultimately, just a victim.

“But what he needs isn’t just for you not to blame him,” Yu Min said.

“Mm, so?” Qiao Qi said. “So what am I supposed to do.”

Yu Min faltered, realizing her own words had strayed somewhere unreasonable, and immediately apologized. “Sorry.”

Qiao Qi looked away and turned back toward Liang Xumo.

She had eyes; naturally she could see that Liang Xumo was different from a normal person now.

“With her like this, what are you two planning to do.” Qiao Qi asked.

“When someone’s sick, of course they need to see a doctor,” Yu Min said. “I am a doctor, and she’s been my patient for a long time now.”

Qiao Qi already knew Liang Xumo’s history. She hummed in acknowledgment. “I understand.”

Liang Xumo was clearly no longer a well person; there was no point in pressing her further to demand the reasons behind the truth.

There was no need.

It was just, inevitably, a little heartbreaking.

“I’ll get going, then.” Qiao Qi said plainly. “Whatever happens to her from now on has nothing to do with me. I don’t want to know either.”

She would simply pretend this person was only Liang Xumo.

The person she had missed and longed for all these years had, in fact, been swallowed by time more than a decade ago.

—

Once out of the room, Qiao Qi didn’t find Liang Yan waiting by the door as she’d expected.

She glanced left and right but couldn’t spot the familiar figure.

While she was wondering which way to go, Qiao Qi noticed the little nurse standing not far off; the nurse waved at her first, then pointed toward the direction of the hallway emergency exit.

Qiao Qi nodded in understanding and turned to head the other way instead.

The nurse: “?”

She hurried after her without thinking. “Teacher Qiao!”

Qiao Qi turned back. “Hm? What’s wrong?”

Thinking her hint hadn’t been obvious enough, the nurse dropped the subtlety entirely. “Young Master Liang seems to be over by the emergency exit.”

Qiao Qi hummed.

The nurse: “?”

Qiao Qi smiled faintly. “So?”

The nurse was left speechless.

Qiao Qi smiled again, said goodbye to the nurse, and walked off.

In truth, Qiao Qi wanted to see Liang Yan more than anyone — ideally to hug him, tell him he’d worked hard.

All these years, he really did care about his sister Liang Xumo.

It was just — if he wanted to avoid her deliberately, she wasn’t going to push him into a difficult spot.

Back at Tong Shuqu’s office, Qiao Qi was now composed enough to discuss Maiya’s funeral arrangements with him rationally. Maiya had said long ago that she wanted to rest under the pomegranate tree in the courtyard at Mingtian.

After cremation, since there wasn’t a particularly suitable burial plot, they might have to leave the ashes at a funeral home for now.

As for the pomegranate tree, there was, of course, no way to actually bury a person there — they could only choose a small item Maiya had loved in life to place beneath it.

Once everything had been briefly settled, Tong Shuqu said, “As for the orphanage—”

Qiao Qi said, “I’ll tell them.”

“Alright.” Tong Shuqu looked at Qiao Qi’s pale but resolutely composed face and, after a moment, reached out to pat her shoulder. “You’ve worked hard.”

Qiao Qi shook her head. “You’ve worked harder.”

During the surgery, he must have suffered a great deal.

Before leaving, Qiao Qi suddenly remembered something. She said, “Oh, right, can I ask you something?”

Tong Shuqu said, “What is it?”

Qiao Qi paused before saying, “Before, Maiya went back to Mingtian once. You took her there.”

Tong Shuqu, once reminded, did recall that this had happened. “Right, I took her there.”

“Was there a reason?” Qiao Qi asked.

Truthfully, Tong Shuqu didn’t know either — only that Maiya had been in a bad mood that day, and it had taken him quite a while to get the reason out of her.

The little girl, already frail, had said with a pitiful little pout that she missed home, and without thinking, he had promised her that if she behaved, he’d take her back.

He had only meant it offhand, but the child had taken it to heart.

Not wanting to disappoint Maiya, he had picked a day, swapped shifts with a colleague, and taken her back.

He had meant to tell Qiao Qi, since he knew she’d been filming nearby, but Maiya hadn’t wanted to trouble her, saying pitifully that she was always causing Qiao Qi trouble.

Unable to bear seeing Maiya’s wronged little face, Tong Shuqu had kept it quiet.

And, honestly, he’d also thought Maiya’s visit might disturb Qiao Qi.

After all, Qiao Qi was something of an in-demand actress now — if she got photographed doing anything unexpected, even a clear explanation could cause bad press.

But he hadn’t expected that this would end up costing Qiao Qi her last chance to see Maiya.

“I’m sorry…” Tong Shuqu said. “I should have taken her to see you.”

Qiao Qi smiled bitterly. “That’s not what I meant to say.”

Tong Shuqu asked, “Then what?”

Qiao Qi said, “Her wanting to go back so urgently — did something happen?”

Tong Shuqu shook his head. “I don’t know. She didn’t say.”

Qiao Qi hummed and fell silent for a few seconds before finding herself faintly amused.

A little child — what could there possibly have been?

“Maybe,” Qiao Qi said as she left, “she just sensed something coming, ahead of time.” Then, to Tong Shuqu, “Thank you.”

“For taking her back.”

Compared to missing her last chance to see Maiya, what hurt her more was that Maiya hadn’t gotten to feel the familiar air of Mingtian one more time.

Fortunately, though, Tong Shuqu had helped make up for that.

—

Liang Yan had arranged half a day’s leave for her, and Qiao Qi didn’t delay — she booked a flight straight to the neighboring city.

She ran into a few fans at the airport; since this was a personal trip, the ones she encountered were scattered individual fans, all girls.

These girls could apparently tell Qiao Qi wasn’t in a good state, and worried but not daring to approach, simply watched her head toward the VIP lounge before rushing off to post about it on Weibo.

Public opinion flared up again.

【My heart is breaking… is my ship really going to end here?】

【Is she really going in for surgery? Wouldn’t it be too soon to already be at the airport? Did the poster get a good look? Is it really Qiao Qi?】

【Sigh, doesn’t Qiao Qi even have an assistant right now? Did her company go under?】

【Damn it, my daughter works so hard filming, gets sick and has to go to the hospital, and still gets dragged through the mud — company reps, get your asses out here and do some PR!】

In the end, it wasn’t Qiao Qi’s company that stepped in to handle it.

It was Liang Yan himself, posting a single Weibo post: Not true, don’t spread rumors. @LiangYanStudioLegalTeam.

The comments turned peaceful.

【Hahahahahaha translation: keep talking nonsense and I’ll send you a lawyer’s letter!】

【Yes, this is exactly what I love about Young Master Liang’s rumor denials — always simple, blunt, and to the point】

【Aaah no what? So the ship is fake, huh! Hahahahaha】

The three comments above became the top three most-liked, respectively. Three minutes later, on refresh, the third one had disappeared.

【??? Did the poster delete it themselves?】

【…I didn’t. It got deleted by the blogger.】

【Who’s the blogger, anyway??】

【Look up top, the blogger is the verified gold-V account: Liang Yan】

【………】

【…At this point, is it really so much to just say Liang-Wood-and-Perch forever?】

【Damn it, straighten your spine and ship it! The person involved is nodding along! Whoever doesn’t ship it is a coward!】

【Here it comes! Let’s see who’s dancing in front of the real deal again! Oh, it’s the real deal himself】

【Hahahahaha so what was the whole hospital thing about then? Wasn’t it not that? Or was it exactly that?!】

【I’m dying!! Sisters, what an angle!!】

【What angle, my ass! This is a perfectly normal angle!】

Under this comment, it wasn’t long before the man himself made an appearance too.

【Liang Yan: Not true, don’t spread rumors.】

【To summarize: no lawyer team tagged this time, meaning — not yet, but working on it.】

【Hahahahahahaha I could die laughing】

【Then why did you let baby Qiao Qi go to the airport alone?】

Right. Why.

Liang Yan himself really wanted to know too.

Two hours earlier, he’d learned from Weibo that Qiao Qi had already boarded. Two hours later, he showed up at the airport.

One right after the other.

Even the fans hadn’t expected to stumble onto two surprise sightings in a single day.

Compared to Qiao Qi’s frailty, Liang Yan didn’t look much better himself. One was weak, the other haggard.

Clearly headed to the same destination, and yet they’d deliberately booked separate flights.

What was going on?

Had the young couple had a fight?

So a bold fan trailed behind Liang Yan, mother-hen style, telling him to drink plenty of water, not to crash diet, and to hit the gym if he had free time.

After that, she added anxiously, “Girls are actually really easy to coax, you know — they don’t want anything from you, they just want an attitude. No matter whose fault it actually is, if she’s upset, it’s your fault. See her, talk it through properly, don’t pull your young-master temper. Look how many years it took you to finally get a girlfriend — don’t screw it up on your own.”

Having said her piece, she assumed Liang Yan, like usual, would act as if he hadn’t heard a word — but to everyone’s surprise, the moment the fan finished, Liang Yan actually stopped in his tracks.

The little entourage trailing behind him jumped, all slamming on the brakes at once.

Everyone could see, under his messy hair, Liang Yan’s eyes looked exhausted, and presumably his face beneath the mask wasn’t looking much livelier.

Even his voice had lost its usual lazy magnetism, sounding hoarse, as if he really were utterly worn out.

The fan who’d been rambling had only worked up the nerve because of the momentum and the star’s own unpredictable antics — but now that Liang Yan had turned around, she immediately clamped her mouth shut, terrified.

The other fans around her fell silent too.

Just as this fan, under Liang Yan’s calm gaze, was bracing herself to admit defeat, everyone clearly heard Liang Yan ask: “Coax her in person, or online?”

The fan: “…you, you go with your gut?”

The other fans: “…”

Today, truly, had been a lot.