The moment she was back at the residence, the fury Bai Youwei had been holding in could no longer be contained. Without caring whether Shen Fei might hear from outside, she returned to her room, locked herself in — and swept everything off the dressing table in one violent motion.

Every jar, every bottle, shattered against the floor. Perfume and powder scattered in a chaotic mess across the ground.

Still not appeased, she hurled the pillow, then ripped the bedsheet.

Everything that could be thrown was thrown. Everything that could be smashed was smashed. Everything that could be destroyed was destroyed.

The image kept replaying in her mind — the couple running and chasing each other: the girl full of youthful energy, wearing denim cutoff shorts, her pale legs unabashedly on display, dazzling in their easy freedom.

So what if she could stand? So what if she could take a few steps?

Could she run? Could she leap? Did she have a pair of legs like that — healthy, vibrant, full of life?

Envy.

Resentment.

A senseless, directionless rage was pressing in on her, pushing her toward the edge of hysteria.

All of it — every dark and bitter emotion — came crashing down on Bai Youwei like a wave, and she clenched her teeth, grabbed hold of her skirt, and wished she could burn the whole thing to ash.

The dress she had so carefully chosen. The expensive, beautiful dress. The dress that also hid her flaws. Beside those legs, it was a joke.

An absolute joke.

Damn it all.

The sound of tearing — ripping and ripping again — as the curtains were seized, pulled, and torn free.

She threw open the wardrobe and flung every piece of clothing inside onto the floor without exception, and came close to toppling the wardrobe itself and smashing it to pieces.

A voice from outside the door suddenly broke through.

Bai Youwei’s movements stopped.

She stared at the locked door in frozen surprise—

In the living room, Shen Mo, who had just come in, asked Shen Fei: “What are you doing here?”

Perfectly ordinary words — and yet Shen Fei felt inexplicably nervous, and his answer came out halting and stumbling: “I… I gave Sister Wei a ride back…”

Shen Mo raised an eyebrow. “Sister Wei?”

Shen Fei caught himself, corrected quickly: “I gave Sister Wei a ride home…”

Shen Mo gave an even nod. “Head back soon. Your wounds still need a few more days to heal — don’t get careless.”

“Oh…” Shen Fei let out a sound of assent, then cast a hesitant glance at the closed bedroom door behind him before silently making his exit.

Once Shen Fei had gone, Shen Mo raised his hand and knocked on the bedroom door.

— Knock, knock.

“Youwei?”

Bai Youwei stood amid the chaos of the room.

Why now, of all times…

She shut her eyes. The knot in her chest had wound itself to its absolute limit.

“Youwei? Are you in there?” Shen Mo asked again.

“I’m here!” Bai Youwei forced herself to answer and launched into rapid motion — grabbing armfuls of clothes off the floor and shoving them back into the wardrobe.

As she worked, she called out toward the door: “Give me a minute — I’m changing! Wait a little before you open the door!”

All the cosmetics scooped off the floor!

The jars and bottles were too broken to sort out properly, glass splinters still everywhere with no clean way to sweep them up — she gave up on that and pushed the whole mess under the bed.

The bedsheet — the bedsheet needed to be pulled straight and tucked back down!

…Oh, this was a disaster — lipstick and eye shadow had left the sheet streaked with smears of color. Nothing to be done, she’d have to change it entirely.

But where was the clean one?

Bai Youwei clutched at her hair in frantic distress, yanked the wardrobe doors open again, and dug through in furious search. Half the clothes she’d just stuffed back in spilled out again.

She was barely keeping her head above water. Eventually she found a clean sheet and managed to get it spread over the bed — only to look up and realize: no pillow.

For goodness’ sake.

Where had she even thrown it?

“Youwei? Is everything alright in there?” Shen Mo asked from outside, a note of suspicion entering his voice.

“Fine! I… I just dress slowly, that’s all — wait just a little longer!” She called out again.

Bai Youwei rolled through the room in her wheelchair, searching in circles. Not one pillow anywhere. She finally traced it to under the bed.

She had no choice but to slide off the wheelchair, get down on her stomach, and crawl under the bed to retrieve it.

Reaching in to grab it, she cut the palm of her hand on one of the broken cosmetic bottles under there. Crawling back out, she banged the top of her head against the bed frame.

She brought both pillows out, patted them down, and set them neatly at the head of the bed.

Arranging them, placing them just so…

And somehow, without knowing how it happened, her chest closed in with such unbearable sadness and hurt that her nose stung, and tears fell — large, heavy drops soaking into the pillow beneath them.

—