Regarding their breakup back then, Zhou Wan had thought it was because of Lu Xixiao’s pride. Someone as proud as him would never lower his head to beg or show weakness to keep someone.

She thought the more decisively she left, the faster Lu Xixiao would get over her.

But after all these years, she discovered it wasn’t like that at all.

She had left too ruthlessly, which instead became Lu Xixiao’s obsession, twisting their current relationship into something increasingly distorted.

From the very beginning, Lu Xixiao had tried to keep her most irrationally and straightforwardly possible, yet she still left.

Zhou Wan didn’t know how to accept this truth.

She stood frozen, not knowing what to say or do. Just thinking about what Lu Xixiao had done for her in the past made her heart ache with guilt.

A tear fell silently.

Zhou Wan crouched down painfully, hugging her knees and burying her face. She sniffled and said softly, “But it shouldn’t have been like this.”

Lu Xixiao stood still, watching her.

“Why did you do those things? If it had been any worse… you might never have woken up.”

She choked on her words, her thoughts in chaos, feeling that everything she’d done over these years had been wrong, even her final persistence had lost all meaning.

How she wished Lu Xixiao would tell her next second that it wasn’t true, that he’d only been injured because he hadn’t reacted in time, that they were just two lonely souls who had dated in their youth, finding comfort in each other’s company – how could they have loved to such an extent?

But Lu Xixiao just watched her calmly, saying nothing.

Tears kept falling unstoppably through her lashes, dripping onto her fingertips and the ground.

“Lu Xixiao, I wasn’t worth you doing all that…”

Lu Xixiao’s answer was like the final straw that broke the camel’s back. Even after seven years, it still nearly drove Zhou Wan to break down.

She had never forgiven herself for how deeply she had hurt Lu Xixiao.

In her entire life, not many people had been good to her. Lu Xixiao was one of them, yet she was also the one who had hurt him the deepest.

“I’m sorry, Lu Xixiao…”

Zhou Wan’s shoulders shook uncontrollably, tears soaking through her fingers and dampening her sleeve cuffs. Overwhelmed by crushing guilt and grief, she couldn’t even lift her head.

“It’s my fault, it’s all because I was selfish and dark. If it weren’t for me, you would have always been that proud and brilliant Lu Xixiao… I’m sorry, it’s all my fault…”

Lu Xixiao didn’t know how many such breakdown moments Zhou Wan had experienced.

But since her grandmother’s death, this was the most heartbreaking he’d seen her cry.

“Zhou Wan,” he said in a deep voice.

Lu Xixiao walked to her and pulled at her sleeve.

But Zhou Wan had no strength left in her body. She cried until her nose and eyes were completely red, so devoted to her grief that even as he gripped her sleeve, she couldn’t stand up.

She kept mumbling broken apologies between sobs, each word shattered.

“Lu Xixiao, don’t care about me anymore, just leave it like this.”

She instinctively wanted to escape again, wanted to leave, trying to make up for her past mistakes and fill the collapse in her heart. “I don’t deserve it… I’m so bad, I don’t deserve your kindness at all…”

Lu Xixiao’s brows gradually furrowed.

He had been drinking, and hearing Zhou Wan’s words, the irritation and hurt in his heart kept spreading.

“Zhou Wan.”

Compared to Zhou Wan’s broken voice, Lu Xixiao’s voice seemed exceptionally calm and cold. “That was my choice, it had nothing to do with you.”

Zhou Wan shook her head, breathing chaotically as she said “no” and “sorry.”

Finally unable to bear seeing Zhou Wan like this, he bent down and picked her up, throwing her onto the sofa, his movements far from gentle.

Then he leaned down, his palm against her neck, lifting her tear-stained face.

Through her blur of tears, Zhou Wan saw a hard-faced Lu Xixiao.

He was angry: “Zhou Wan, you’re always like this. Do you think everything can be solved with an apology? You never trusted me, never relied on me.” He had never laid these words out in the open before.

Yet saying them now didn’t bring relief, only an increasingly heavy sense of oppression and anger.

His eyes reddened too as he pointed at his chest, each word precise and bleeding: “Zhou Wan, I tried so hard to trust you back then, to tell you I didn’t care about anything, I just wanted you by my side. I didn’t care if you were deceiving me or playing with me, I didn’t give a damn about any of it!”

Under the influence of alcohol, he was having his most clear-headed drunk outburst.

“But you still left. I deliberately got hurt, wanting you to worry about me, to stay with me. Everything I did was to keep you from leaving, to let you know how much I loved you, but you never believed it. Even while staying with me, you were thinking about when to break up.”

This was the real reason Lu Xixiao finally let go.

It had nothing to do with pride.

That bit of pride was never enough to support him in holding back from finding Zhou Wan all these years.

And now, he was tearing open the scabs, cutting open his heart, exposing all those bleeding wounds.

Yet these were wounds that Zhou Wan couldn’t bear.

Zhou Wan had never imagined she and Lu Xixiao would end up like this.

She couldn’t stop crying, as if she had to shed all the tears Lu Xixiao had held back before.

She finally understood why Lu Xixiao would say that no matter how they dissected their relationship, she was the one who had wronged him.

She had been so wrong, catastrophically wrong.

Lu Xixiao had finally vented years of pent-up bitterness, yet felt no relief at all. Looking at Zhou Wan crying so brokenly before him, he still felt heartache.

“Alright,” he finally sighed, swallowing back his remaining anger. “Stop crying.”

Zhou Wan knew he had never liked seeing girls cry. She forcefully wiped away her tears, trying hard to hold back her sobs, and responded with an “mm.”

Lu Xixiao looked at her for a while: “It’s late, go to sleep.”

Earlier, someone had spilled drinks on his back, and his dress shirt was slightly wet. He took off his shirt and walked into the common bathroom – leaving the bedroom bathroom for Zhou Wan.

When Zhou Wan finished her shower, he still hadn’t come out. She picked up the shirt from the floor, checked that it could be water-washed, and soaked it in the sink with warm water and laundry powder.

This was the scene Lu Xixiao saw when he came out.

Zhou Wan had her sleeves rolled up to her elbows, her arms slender and fair, leaning against the washbasin, her gaze lowered, wisps of hair falling on both sides of her face. Moonlight fell on her, spreading a thin layer of mist, quiet and gentle.

He went over and tested the water temperature. Since it wasn’t cold water, he let her continue hand-washing.

After finishing, Zhou Wan hung the shirt on the balcony. The suit couldn’t be water-washed; she planned to take it to the dry cleaners tomorrow morning.

It was very late.

She washed her hands and climbed into bed. As soon as she lay down, Lu Xixiao turned off the lights.

He lay on his side, his long arm reaching over to pull Zhou Wan close.

Zhou Wan froze, but only for a moment, before obediently nestling into Lu Xixiao’s embrace. Her breathing still trembled from choking back sobs, her dark lashes quivering like butterflies about to take flight.

After a while, Zhou Wan tilted her chin up.

The blanket made soft rustling sounds with her movement.

A gentle kiss fell on Lu Xixiao’s lips.

Her lashes trembled even more violently now, her whole body shaking lightly, yet she still kissed him with inexperience.

Lu Xixiao opened his eyes in the darkness. The curtains weren’t fully drawn, and a patch of moonlight fell on her face, dividing it into distinct areas of light and shadow. She was as devout as someone offering their neck to the executioner, yet as desperate as someone staking everything on one throw.

Lu Xixiao’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he spoke, his voice hoarse: “Zhou Wan.”

Zhou Wan sensed the change in his voice and felt his hardening body and muscles. She had no time to think about anything, only anxiously wanting to give something to make up to him.

Lu Xixiao had always been defenseless against her.

He only held back for three seconds before flipping Zhou Wan beneath him, his knees on either side of her. His voice was deep as he looked at her with dark eyes, emotionless: “This late, don’t want to sleep?” He spoke very clearly.

Zhou Wan understood.

But she still stretched her arms around Lu Xixiao’s neck, fingers interlocked, pulling down slightly.

This was the moment Lu Xixiao’s reason snapped.

…

The moonlight was quiet yet surging.

Lu Xixiao understood perfectly what Zhou Wan was thinking.

Perhaps due to her upbringing, Zhou Wan always saw herself as a burden. She didn’t want to trouble others and didn’t want others to spend too much energy on her.

Everything tonight would put pressure on Zhou Wan.

She was touched, but also at a loss.

When she cried, she kept repeating that she didn’t deserve his kindness and that he shouldn’t have done those things for her.

Once the kindness shown to her exceeded her capacity to handle it, she wanted to run away.

That’s why she was so forward now, with an all-or-nothing attitude, carrying the meaning of wanting to sacrifice herself, even though she used to be the girl who would blush at just a kiss.

Lu Xixiao had once used the most devastating method to try to keep Zhou Wan.

And now Zhou Wan wanted to use the most extreme method to try to make it up to him as much as possible.

But what after the compensation? Would she think the emotional debt was settled and end things with him again?

…

Pain shot through her entire body.

Zhou Wan’s whole body curled up trembling, her nails digging deep into Lu Xixiao’s back, then immediately afraid of hurting him, she clenched her fists, fingertips pressed into her palms, leaving deep crescent marks.

“Lu Xixiao…”

She couldn’t hold back anymore, eyebrows tightly knitted, almost unable to breathe, nearly suffocating, “It hurts, I hurt…”

She cried so pitifully.

Unknown if she meant physical pain or heartache.

Lu Xixiao felt heartache just looking at her once.

But the more his heart ached, the more foolish he felt.

He didn’t want to be controlled by her emotions anymore, didn’t want to follow behind her like a lap dog with a pathetic expression.

Lu Xixiao grabbed a tie from beside the bed and blindfolded Zhou Wan, tying it behind her head.

Zhou Wan was plunged into darkness, unable to see anything. Her senses were infinitely amplified, all awareness concentrated at that spot as if she was being torn apart.

“Lu Xixiao.” She called his name with a trembling voice.

Like a drowning person desperately grasping at the only piece of driftwood.

Suddenly, something scorching hot dripped onto Zhou Wan’s collarbone.

Perhaps sweat, perhaps tears.

The next second, Lu Xixiao responded hoarsely: “Mm.”

His eyes were bloodshot, his lashes wet with moisture. His voice was extremely hard from restraint, suppressing those indescribable emotions, as if he had transcended the mortal world and was watching from afar.

Zhou Wan’s heart twisted with sourness.

She thought again that what fell on her collarbone must have been sweat.

Lu Xixiao didn’t know what she was thinking. He brushed away the sweat-dampened hair from her face and gripped her neck to make her tilt her head back, his palm applying slight pressure.

His eyes were crimson as he said: “Call me brother.”

Zhou Wan let out a struggling whimper.

“Call me brother.” Lu Xixiao patted her face, repeating.

That part poised to enter provided a silent threat to Lu Xixiao’s words.

Zhou Wan’s face was completely red, trembling all over from pain and fear. She was afraid Lu Xixiao would enter like this, and finally fear overcome shame.

“Brother.” Her voice was very, very soft, carrying painful sobs.

After so many years, Lu Xixiao was still pierced by this “brother.”

Just moments ago he had been too heartbroken to move, but now that bit of heartache was consumed like clouds scattered by the wind. He smiled self-mockingly, and forcefully pressed down on Zhou Wan’s waist, no longer heeding her cries.

The room was filled with passion.

This encounter couldn’t be called love-making at all, but rather a struggle between dominant and submissive.

They seemed to traverse years, fighting with their past selves and each other, determined to battle until they were covered in wounds and bleeding before they would stop.

But in the end. Lu Xixiao couldn’t see that pool of haziness beneath the tie.

Zhou Wan was blindfolded and couldn’t see the scar on his chest, nor the tattoo carved into bone and blood above it.