Ruan Yu gripped the chopsticks tightly in her hand. The person before her had always seemed dazzling since their first meeting. She had assumed he was born with a silver spoon in his mouth, living without worries about food or clothing, succeeding in everything he did, and living an easy life. Yet she never imagined that his past was also filled with scars.

“I hated her deeply. I hated that she wouldn’t tell us our father’s true identity, and I hated that when others mocked us as bastards, we were powerless to fight back.”

But later, when he grew a bit older and became more understanding, he saw how his mother would humble herself to the dust yet receive no response. He suddenly felt that his mother was pitiful. This woman had met the wrong person and consequently wasted her youth, wasted her most beautiful years. She had already received her punishment; she shouldn’t have to endure unnecessary hatred.

Later still, when his mother finally decided to break ties with that cold-hearted man, he watched as his formerly timid mother wiped away her tears, cut off her long hair, and fought desperately to give her two sons a better life. It was then that he completely forgave her.

The three of them relied on each other for survival, striving to cut ties with the past, but there were still people who would make a big deal of their history, mocking him as a bastard. He had felt angry but ultimately found peace.

The initial mistake was his mother’s, but those who continued to err and cause trouble afterward were others. He shouldn’t lock his life forever in a lightless black box because of others’ mistakes.

“Regardless of how broken or shameful the family we’re born into, it’s not our choice. This shouldn’t become something for others to criticize in our lives, because we didn’t cause it.”

Similarly, no one has the right to deny someone’s entire being because of their broken or shameful family background.

One’s original family is merely everyone’s starting point. Whether one takes the winding path or the sunny road afterward is the real choice that belongs to oneself. No matter how high someone’s starting point is, when that person chooses to hurt others first, they have already lost.

Ruan Yu shed tears again.

This time, she didn’t try to hide them.

She knew that in front of him, she could cry and show weakness. He wouldn’t mock her because they were the same kind of person.

“Alright,” after a while, Teng Yi pushed the tissue box on the table toward her, “wipe your tears. Don’t let people think I’m bullying you.”

“There’s no one else here,” she said with a choked voice.

“Oh,” Teng Yi raised an eyebrow, “so I’m considered one of your own now?”

Ruan Yu’s face flushed, and she quickly pulled out two tissues, pressing them against her eye sockets, avoiding his gaze.

The breeze gently blew through the hall, and the windows creaked softly.

After a long while, Ruan Yu lowered her hand.

Tissue fragments clung to her wet eyelashes.

“Your eyes,” Teng Yi reminded her.

“Hmm?”

She touched them but couldn’t find the fragments.

Teng Yi reached out directly to remove them. Ruan Yu blinked instinctively, her eyelashes brushing against his fingers, leaving an almost imperceptible trace of moisture.

The fragments fell away.

He withdrew his hand, discreetly rubbing his fingers under the cover of the teacup. Yet the sensation on his fingers couldn’t be rubbed away. He hadn’t noticed before how long her eyelashes were.

Ruan Yu’s face grew even hotter after his fingertip had touched her. Her heart tumbled chaotically in her chest, making her feel more dizzy than after running three kilometers.

“Eat your food,” Teng Yi said, “it’s getting cold.”

“Mm.”