The next morning, Xu Sui opened her eyes and woke up from bed, feeling like she’d been thrown into a washing machine—all the moisture drained from her body, leaving her weak and powerless.

She struggled to sit up against the headboard. Her throat was parched, and just as she was looking for water, she noticed a strip of fever medication on the bedside table, along with a glass of water that had long since gone cold.

Xu Sui’s gaze froze. Last night when she collapsed from high fever, her consciousness was unclear, but she vaguely remembered someone carefully taking care of her throughout.

Xu Sui thought about it—recently, Liang Shuang was the one who frequently visited her home, so she picked up her phone and sent a voice message:

[Shuang Shuang, was it you who took care of me when I was sick last night? Thank you for all the trouble. I’ll treat you to dinner another day.]

After a long while, Liang Shuang finally sent back a voice message.

Her tone was somewhat unclear, speaking intermittently: “Ah… yes, it’s nothing. Rest well this weekend.”

Xu Sui sent back a Pikachu face-squishing emoji.

She was also grateful that today was the weekend, so she could rest properly.

High fevers were like that—they came quickly and left quickly too. On Monday, Xu Sui went to work in high spirits.

In the morning, Xu Sui carried a white tote bag, wore a camel wool coat, and walked into the hospital office in her commuter shoes. But she was surprised to find that instead of sitting at their desks doing their own work, her colleagues had all gathered around the front desk, looking at the computer monitor where Nurse He was on duty, discussing something.

“Hey, what are you all doing?” Xu Sui walked over with a smile and asked.

“Once in a lifetime—our great Puren Hospital actually has a big celebrity visiting,” one doctor replied.

“Hm?”

“Ye Saining, that international supermodel, came to our hospital for surgery and booked the entire VIP suite on the top floor.”

“Tsk tsk, celebrities are so wealthy,” Zhao Shu’er said enviously.

“I heard she’s having breast tumor surgery. Don’t know whose number she registered under,” Nurse He thought for a moment and said, “It wouldn’t be Dr. Xu, would it?”

Xu Sui’s heart skipped a beat at being called out. She smiled and brushed it off: “My surgeries are fully booked for the next two weeks, and I don’t have enough experience yet. She probably registered for an expert consultation, like Professor Fang or the deputy director.”

Han Mei said: “Hey, you’re absolutely right—she did register with Professor Fang.”

The corner of Xu Sui’s mouth twitched slightly. She placed her hand on the desk and was about to leave when—

A colleague called out to her: “Dr. Xu, aren’t you curious what the big celebrity looks like?”

Xu Sui turned back to glance at the monitor. An RV was parked by the roadside. Ye Saining wore a long black down jacket, a mask covering her palm-sized face, revealing only a pair of upturned amber eyes. Even bundled up tightly, she couldn’t hide her graceful, curvaceous figure.

She withdrew her gaze and smiled: “Not really curious, because if I don’t hurry over, the patient in bed 24 will get anxious.”

Because Ye Saining had come to Puren for surgery, Xu Sui felt distracted all morning.

She nearly got burned while pouring hot water and even signed the wrong name at the end of a patient’s medical report.

Xu Sui put down her pen, leaned back in her chair, tilted her head toward the ceiling, feeling bitter and astringent inside.

But Xu Sui reminded herself that this was nothing. Ye Saining could no longer hurt her.

On Wednesday, the weather cleared and temperatures began warming up.

The snake plant on Xu Sui’s office desk, whose leaves had been curled up these past few days, slowly began to unfurl again.

During lunch break, sunlight filtered through the blinds and fell across a corner of the desk.

Xu Sui was watering the plants with a small spray bottle when the head nurse suddenly knocked on the door, holding a file folder: “Dr. Xu, the patient in VIP room 703 says she wants to see you.”

“703?” Xu Sui set down the spray bottle. She was sensitive to this number—she’d just seen this room number on the duty roster at the nurses’ station a few days ago. It was Ye Saining’s room.

One glance had left an impression in her mind.

Xu Sui gave the head nurse at the door a gentle smile: “Alright, I understand.”

After the head nurse left, Xu Sui pulled a tulip from the water-filled vase and walked out of her office.

Xu Sui took the elevator to VIP room 703. She withdrew her hand from her coat pocket and knocked on the door with her knuckles.

“Come in,” came a woman’s voice from inside.

Xu Sui walked in and immediately saw Ye Saining on the hospital bed, with her assistant sitting beside her peeling fruit.

“Yun Duo, please step out,” Ye Saining said to the girl.

“Okay, Sister Ning Ning. Call me if you need anything,” the assistant put down the apple.

As the assistant passed Xu Sui, she smiled friendly and even closed the door behind her when she left.

Ye Saining lay in the hospital bed. Having just had surgery, her vitality was greatly damaged. She looked visibly haggard, pale, with no color in her complexion.

Xu Sui looked at her and asked: “Feeling better?”

Ye Saining suddenly laughed upon seeing her. After so many years, Xu Sui was still so gentle and good-tempered.

If it had been her in the same situation, after being hurt and meeting again, she probably would have pointed at the other person’s face, grabbed their hair, and cursed: “You damned bitch, you stole my boyfriend. I hope you die a horrible death.”

But Xu Sui didn’t do that.

Perhaps this was the difference between her and Xu Sui.

That’s why Zhou Jingze was willing to protect her.

Ye Saining gazed at the person before her with amber eyes.

Xu Sui wore a white coat. She was thin, her collarbones like crescents, very delicate. Her skin was fair and smooth, her hair in a low ponytail, her lips lightly red, and her eyes still clear, but now with added firmness and composure.

She had two black ballpoint pens and one red pen clipped to her right chest, holding an orange-yellow tulip in her hand as she bent down to place the flower in a nearby basket.

Xu Sui had transformed from a quiet, soft-spoken girl into an excellent, beautiful woman with gracious temperament.

“You’ve become much more beautiful,” Ye Saining praised.

“Thank you.” Xu Sui kept her head down, carefully finding a good position for the flower.

Suddenly, Ye Saining coughed, pulling at her chest cavity with sharp pain, frowning painfully.

“Actually, I asked you to come today because I owe you an apology that’s many years overdue,” Ye Saining’s voice was slightly hoarse, her tone serious as she said word by word, “I’m sorry.”

Xu Sui’s flower-arranging motion paused. She happened to be pricked by a rose thorn in the nearby basket, her fingertip stinging sharply as blood beaded up.

She hadn’t expected Ye Saining to apologize.

“It’s already in the past, and Zhou Jingze isn’t with me anymore either,” Xu Sui lifted her eyes briefly, then resumed arranging the flowers.

Ye Saining shook her head, her tone pausing: “Actually, there were some things I should have explained to you back then, but I’ve been abroad all this time, too busy with my career. So the first thing I did upon returning to China was find you and apologize.”

“Actually, when you two broke up back then, Zhou was greatly affected. He was in a state of pain and dejection for a very long time, especially after he learned that I was behind it all,” Ye Saining lowered her head with a self-mocking smile, her tone somewhat pained. “He immediately sent me back to England.”

“He said he never wanted to see me again.”

“He said if he couldn’t have you, he would casually marry someone else in this lifetime, but it would never be me.”

Ye Saining knew Zhou Jingze wasn’t speaking in anger, so when she truly heard these words, she completely broke down. She wanted to beg his forgiveness, but Zhou Jingze was determined to teach her a lesson.

Ye Saining still remembered Zhou Jingze’s tenderness and ruthlessness.

His dark eyes were filled with heavy hostility and suppression, like a trapped beast that nearly strangled her to death.

At that moment, Ye Saining realized that Zhou Jingze’s previous fondness for her was probably just a bit more appreciation and mutual understanding than he had for ordinary girls.

Xu Sui was his bottom line.

Ye Saining thought she could touch it, but only after touching it did she realize her complete mistake.

After being sent back to England, Ye Saining thought he was just temporarily angry. She persistently sent gifts and wrote letters, but everything was returned.

Until a year later, on Christmas, Ye Saining gathered courage to call Zhou Jingze, only to find the number was disconnected.

Ye Saining suddenly realized he would never forgive her.

Later, when Ye Saining’s career wasn’t going well and she was very lonely in a foreign country with no family or friends, she developed depression.

Ye Saining really missed Zhou Jingze then. She would lie awake at night, get up to take a sedative, then close her eyes again, still unable to sleep. Even the moon outside her window appeared blurry.

She suddenly had an emotional breakdown, crawled out of bed crying while writing emails to Zhou Jingze, apologizing, saying she was willing to apologize to Xu Sui, and telling him how badly she’d been doing lately, that she had depression.

She even lowered herself to the dust. In the email, Ye Saining wrote: As long as you come see me, I’ll do anything.

The email disappeared like a stone dropped in the ocean.

In her emotional anxiety and fluctuation, Ye Saining looked forward to Zhou Jingze replying to her email every day.

Every day when she returned from hospital treatment, the first thing she did was check if her email had been replied to. Until the tenth day, she saw with her own eyes the email status change from unread to read.

Zhou Jingze didn’t reply, and never came to see her.

This was her punishment.

“When I met Zhou, he was quite young, and his mother had just passed away not long before. I was a year older than him and had entered society earlier. Something happened then, and I just happened to help him out, so he felt he owed me. That’s why he indulged me in everything.”

Ye Saining’s face was pale, and even recalling this period, her expression remained painful and unbearable.

Because in love, no one wants to admit their failure.

Ye Saining looked up and caught Xu Sui’s confused expression: “Don’t tell me he still hasn’t told you what happened?”

Xu Sui shook her head. She didn’t know what had happened to Zhou Jingze back then. She vaguely remembered that initially, because of a mistaken text message, she was mistaken for Ye Saining, causing a misunderstanding between them. Zhou Jingze had apologized, saying he had a dark side and was afraid to let her know.

Ye Saining nodded, suddenly feeling a bit sour. Though reluctant to admit it, she still sighed:

“Then he really… loves you desperately.”

Xu Sui’s pupils contracted sharply, her heart trembling. Someone was telling her that after all these years, he still loved her, faithful from beginning to end.

She suddenly couldn’t quite adapt to this.

It was like desperately trying to get one flower, a flower that belonged to you alone. But someone else was willing to cross deserts and traverse mountains and rivers to bring you a bouquet.

Because they liked you, they traveled thousands of miles.

After leaving Ye Saining’s room, Xu Sui remained in low spirits.

Suddenly, Liang Shuang called. Xu Sui answered and adjusted her tone: “Hello, what’s wrong?”

Liang Shuang’s tone was somewhat embarrassed, hesitant, and she sighed:

“Sui Sui, actually… the one who took care of you when you were sick wasn’t me—it should have been Zhou Jingze. He even called me, probably wanting me to take care of you, but I was drunk that night…”

“And since I’ve been displeased with him lately, when you messaged to thank me the next day, I just claimed credit for it. But thinking it over, I felt this wasn’t right. Sigh, I don’t know what he’s thinking either. Wuu wuu wuu, anyway, sister, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, I understand. It’s fine,” Xu Sui said softly.

After hanging up, Xu Sui thought: So it was actually him who took care of her that day?

Following this logic, during this period when she feared danger and someone followed her home every night—that was also Zhou Jingze.

For a moment, her emotions were complex. After learning these things, she didn’t know whether to cry or laugh.

That evening happened to be a department dinner. After a group finished their lobster feast, they moved on to Red Crane Club.

On the way, Xu Sui sat in the back seat next to her colleague Zhao Shu’er.

Zhao Shu’er noticed Xu Sui seemed off and nudged her arm: “Did you break up? You look terrible.”

Xu Sui’s mouth curved into a slight smile: “More complicated than a breakup.”

“Oh, it’s fine. Later use your voice to shout it out—when we karaoke, let’s duet together to vent.”

“Okay.” Xu Sui nodded.

The group arrived at Red Crane Club. Once inside the private room, colleagues immediately released their true nature—playing games, singing, making a ruckus.

Going out to sing was quite enjoyable, and with the lively atmosphere around, Xu Sui’s low mood improved somewhat.

After Xu Sui finished singing a song, Zhao Shu’er’s selection came up.

She glanced over—a classic duet by Wu Bai and Joanna Wang: “Passive.”

Xu Sui handed her the microphone and stepped down from the high stool. Just as she took a sip of water, someone patted her back.

Zhao Shu’er thrust the microphone over, her tone urgent: “Help me sing first—my darling is calling.”

“But—”

The microphone was shoved into Xu Sui’s hands. Before she could finish speaking, Zhao Shu’er hurried out.

Xu Sui had no choice but to sit back on the high stool and look at the screen.

At this grand concert, as soon as the rhythm started, Joanna Wang let out a bright, carefree laugh.

Xu Sui began singing along with the rhythm. She wasn’t very familiar with this song—she’d heard it and had an impression, but couldn’t remember the lyrics well.

Somehow, the further Xu Sui sang, the softer her voice became, until she simply stared at the screen and stopped singing.

The entire KTV echoed with the original singer’s voice.

The red lights were dim, the surroundings noisy. Some people screamed from winning games, others whined from losing and tried to welsh on their bets.

The atmosphere was very boisterous, everyone immersed in their immediate world with great passion and focus. No one noticed Xu Sui’s distress.

She sat on the high stool with her back to everyone, listening to the song as tears unexpectedly fell, drop by drop. Her lashes, her nose tip—everything was red.

At the Rescued by Music concert, Joanna Wang sang with an air of seeing through everything yet still harboring girlish sentiments:

I can go a long time without contacting you,

Let the days pass by like this.

Keeping myself busy can serve as an excuse,

To escape all the weakness of missing you.

I can learn to be cold toward you,

But why can’t I learn to withdraw my love?

Facing you is my greatest torment,

All these years I’ve never told you.

The longer I love you, the more passive I become,

Only because your love has no fixed abode.

It’s you who made my heart

Slowly retreat to a corner you cannot see.

Xu Sui could no longer bear it. She set the microphone aside and hurried out.

Xu Sui was the type who, once she started crying, found it very hard to stop. She didn’t want to cry in front of colleagues, so she ran out just wanting to cry in the restroom, wash her face, and calm down.

She didn’t know what was wrong with her.

Perhaps she remembered many things—how after their breakup all these years, she seemed to be doing well, never contacted him, rarely thought of him.

She had turned herself into a chrysalis wrapped in a cocoon.

But all these years, sometimes late at night when she saw a photo, a high school exercise book, she would suddenly shed tears.

No one knew.

Some people, in a corner of your heart, you simply dare not touch.

Xu Sui kept her head down, walking toward the restroom, when she accidentally bumped into a warm chest.

“I’m sor—” Xu Sui looked up with tears streaming down her face.

Zhou Jingze had a cigarette in his mouth, his dark, sharp eyes staring motionlessly at her.

Seeing Xu Sui’s eyes red from crying, his heart suddenly ached. He frowned, his voice low and deep:

“Why are you crying? Who bullied you?”

“No one.” Xu Sui sniffled.

She lowered her head, crystal-clear tears still clinging to her lashes: “I’m going to wash my face.”

After saying this, Xu Sui fled past him.

Zhou Jingze watched her retreating figure and smiled self-mockingly.

He counted.

Just now, she had spoken exactly three sentences to him.

Zhou Jingze walked back toward the private room, but hesitated at the door and went to the end of the corridor to light a cigarette.

Inside they were playing mahjong, three people short of four. Sheng Nanzhou couldn’t wait any longer, so he came out for a stroll.

Sheng Nanzhou found Zhou Jingze by the corridor window, patted his shoulder: “Still smoking here? I just saw Xu Sui here too, dining with colleagues. Aren’t you going to find her?”

Zhou Jingze wanted to say they had just met, but it was no different from not meeting at all.

So he said nothing, removed the cigarette from his mouth, tugged at the corner of his lips, his tone slow:

“Forget it. She doesn’t like me anymore.”