Two days later, the case went smoothly to trial. Cen Sisi had not even submitted a statement of defense, let alone appeared in court — the entire hearing was little more than a formality.

With the evidence complete and the defendant having voluntarily withdrawn, a week later the court announced its ruling in Ruan Yu’s favor.

She posted the outcome on Weibo, bringing the matter to a complete close. That evening, Liu Mao invited her to dinner in the city center.

Liu Mao’s stated reason for the dinner was to celebrate the victory. Her reason for accepting was to thank him for all the running around he had done on her behalf during this period.

As for Xu Huaisong — she figured he was probably in America, so before heading out she sent him a message to let him know the verdict and to thank him.

What came back from Xu Huaisong was a voice message: “I’ll also be there later—”

The message cut off abruptly, because a woman’s voice broke in from the background: “Huaisong, look at—”

The word “look” landed, and the voice message ended.

Three seconds later, the message was recalled.

Ruan Yu was bewildered. What just happened?

She stared at her phone and waited in silence for several minutes, received no reply, and then pretended she hadn’t heard the voice message at all, typing back: Attorney Xu, what did you recall just now?

Xu Huaisong: Nothing.

And then nothing further.

Ruan Yu couldn’t quite identify why, but something felt lodged inside her, and as a result, by the time she arrived at the restaurant, her mind was somewhere else entirely.

That woman’s voice had sounded young — so it wasn’t Tao Rong.

She had called him “Huaisong” — so she was probably Chinese.

Her tone had been casual — which suggested she knew him well.

So then, what was this person’s relationship to him?

Now that the case had been settled and all ties between them should by rights have come to an end, Ruan Yu realized for the first time that over the past month, she had never once thought to find out whether Xu Huaisong was single.

Thinking back carefully now, there had been that time during one of their video calls when he said he was going to get something to eat — and he was back with a plate of pasta not even two minutes later. That dinner couldn’t have been something he cooked himself.

Which meant he hadn’t been alone at home that night.

And then there was the orange cat — he had said he wasn’t the owner. At the time she had assumed it was probably a friend’s pet being boarded with him, but thinking about it now, perhaps it belonged to a woman who lived there?

Ruan Yu turned over moment after moment from the past weeks in her memory, and the more she did, the more she felt that she had overlooked far too much while in that abnormal state of anxious unease — until Liu Mao waved his hand in front of her face and asked: “What’s wrong?”

She snapped back to the present and found she had apparently been sitting across from him for quite some time, drifting like a lost soul.

The server stood nearby with a smile, pad in hand, waiting for her input.

She gave a low “ah” and looked at the long row of items already ticked on the menu. “That’s plenty — how could two people possibly finish all of this.”

Liu Mao looked puzzled. “Two people?”

Now it was Ruan Yu’s turn to be bewildered. “Aren’t there just two of us?”

“Didn’t I just say — Huaisong will be joining us later?”

She had heard none of it.

She let out a light laugh: “What I meant was — my appetite is small, so you can discount me. How are the two of you going to finish all of this?”

The server took the menu and stepped away.

To cover her embarrassment, she took a long sip of water, then asked: “Hasn’t he gone back to San Francisco?”

“He finished up that case yesterday and came back again.”

Ruan Yu gave a quiet “oh” and cleared her throat. “That must be exhausting — did he used to go back and forth like this often?”

Liu Mao smiled. “Not really — about once a year, usually.”

“Oh, so in America he—”

The four words “does he have a family” hadn’t made it out of her mouth before her phone rang. It was Shen Mingying.

Not knowing the reason for the call, and afraid of letting something slip, she stood and walked to the restaurant entrance before answering: “Mingying.”

The words had barely left her lips when she caught sight of Xu Huaisong’s car pulling up to the entrance.

But she had no time to pay attention to that, because the voice on the other end sounded urgent: “Check Weibo right now!”

“What happened?”

“Cen Sisi is livestreaming herself attempting suicide — people are saying you drove her to it!”

The shock made her knees buckle. She missed a step off the threshold, and a pair of hands caught her by the elbow just in time.

Xu Huaisong stood in front of her. “What happened?”

She looked up at him in a daze and managed: “Cen Sisi has attempted suicide…”

On the very day she had publicly announced the verdict, Cen Sisi had attempted suicide.

Ruan Yu’s hands were trembling as she opened Weibo, only to find the livestream had already been taken down. She tried calling Cen Sisi’s number — no answer.

“Think carefully — is there anyone who can reach her family?” Xu Huaisong’s voice remained completely steady.

Yes. There was one person.

She dialed Li Shican’s number.

The call was picked up immediately. Li Shican’s voice sounded unsteady too, breathless as he spoke: “I already know. I’ve contacted her father — if things went smoothly, she should be at City First Hospital by now.”

Ruan Yu didn’t know the details. “How did she—”

“Cut her wrists and took pills. Don’t panic — it doesn’t necessarily mean it’s too late.”

Things sounded chaotic on Li Shican’s end too. After she hung up, Ruan Yu stood staring blankly at the steps beneath her feet, slow to come back to herself.

She hadn’t turned her phone volume down, and Xu Huaisong had heard Li Shican’s reply. After a brief pause, he said: “Let’s go.”

Ruan Yu looked up. “Where?”

“City First Hospital. Knowing the outcome firsthand is better than standing here waiting, isn’t it?”

Ruan Yu got in the car with Xu Huaisong.

City First Hospital looked outwardly calm, showing no particular signs of upheaval simply from having received a self-harm emergency case.

But with the sharp, heavy smell of disinfectant surrounding her, Ruan Yu found her feet almost too leaden to move.

Xu Huaisong told her to wait to one side while he went to ask at the information desk — but before he could get an answer, a commotion broke out near the hospital entrance.

Both he and Ruan Yu turned at the same time to see a cluster of reporters holding cameras and microphones, pressing in around a man in a face mask from all directions, firing questions at him simultaneously.

Ruan Yu recognized in an instant that the man surrounded in the middle was Li Shican.

Li Shican spotted her too, standing clearly in the well-lit area, and quickly reached for his phone.

Five seconds later, her phone buzzed with a message from him: Don’t stay here. Go.

Xu Huaisong caught a glimpse of the message, frowned slightly, and in the moment the reporters flooded into the hall like a tide, took hold of Ruan Yu’s arm and headed straight for the hospital’s back exit.

Ruan Yu stumbled along, pulled by him, her mind still spinning at full speed.

In a flash of sudden clarity, she seemed to understand — and stopped walking as they neared the parking area: “Is Li Shican trying to redirect public attention?”

Regardless of whether Cen Sisi survived, the way public sentiment was heading, Ruan Yu — the original victim — would most likely end up being attacked as the perpetrator.

So Li Shican was planning to publicly disclose his own entanglement with Cen Sisi to the reporters — inviting the mud to be slung at himself instead.

The pull of a popular celebrity was, after all, considerably greater than that of a small-time web novelist.

Xu Huaisong said nothing, which seemed to be tacit agreement.

Ruan Yu blinked twice, her expression flat. She pulled her hand free from his hold and turned to go back.

He caught up and pulled her back. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“I can’t let him ruin his career over this.”

As far as she was concerned, “Wen Xiang” was just a pen name — even if that pen name were destroyed, she would still be Ruan Yu.

But Li Shican was Li Shican.

Xu Huaisong drew a breath and held her by the wrist: “He is an adult. He is both responsible for and capable of answering for his own actions and choices.”

The two of them stood in a silent standoff for two minutes, and through it, they could faintly hear Li Shican already answering the reporters’ questions.

Ruan Yu let out a long breath.

Xu Huaisong released her wrist and lowered his eyes. “I’m sorry.”

Ruan Yu didn’t fully grasp the meaning behind that apology, and looked down at her wrist, which had gone red from where he’d gripped it. “It’s alright.”

The two returned to the car to wait for news.

A little under half an hour later, a WeChat message came in from Li Shican: She’s out of danger. The reporters have all been cleared from the hospital. Where are you? I’ll come to you.

Ruan Yu glanced at Xu Huaisong. “He wants to come find me.”

He gave a quiet “mm” and started the car. “Send him my license plate number — have his assistant drive the van out first, and he can take the safe passage to the underground car park himself.”

Ruan Yu understood the purpose of that diversionary tactic.

The car made its way around to the underground parking structure. Li Shican came alone, having changed into a different outfit, and got into the back seat of Xu Huaisong’s car.

The moment the door closed, the atmosphere inside the car became unusually heavy.

Ruan Yu turned around, and for a moment couldn’t find any words to start with.

It was Li Shican who broke the silence with an easy smile: “She’s been brought back — so why that expression? Do you really think someone who genuinely wants to die would make such a public spectacle out of it with a livestream?”

Ruan Yu understood that reasoning perfectly well, but still: “What about you, though?”

“She’d been planning this for a long time — her goal was to drag you and me down one after the other. There was no way I was going to come out of it cleanly regardless, so I might as well turn it to my advantage and get ahead of the narrative instead of trying to hide anything.”

She furrowed her brow, about to say more, when she saw Li Shican turn his attention to Xu Huaisong: “You must be Attorney Xu?”

“Mm.”

“The thing with digging up Cen Sisi’s past — that wasn’t you, was it?”

Xu Huaisong shook his head. “It wasn’t.” As he said it, he caught Li Shican’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

Their gazes met — and both understood the full picture at once.

In truth, Li Shican had only put together the long Weibo post and handled part of the public narrative management. He hadn’t been the one to uncover that Cen Sisi was “Wen Xiang’s” junior from school.

That day, having seen Xu Huaisong on the video call, Li Shican had suspected this man’s relationship with Ruan Yu was not ordinary — and hearing her address him as “Attorney Xu,” he had connected the dots and assumed the exposure had been Xu Huaisong’s doing.

When Ruan Yu later asked him about it, Li Shican could tell she was in the dark, and out of some private unwillingness to let another man take the credit, had hedged and left things vague.

As for Xu Huaisong — also after that video call, he had found Li Shican’s face strangely familiar, which eventually reminded him of the “idol” Xu Huaishi constantly talked about. Once he had confirmed the man’s identity, he naturally assumed all the activity online had been Li Shican’s doing.

And he, too, for the same reason of not wanting to hand credit to someone else, had not discussed the matter further with Ruan Yu.

The result, in the end, was that Cen Sisi had exposed herself — deliberately, with the purpose of establishing her “victim” image early, laying the groundwork for the scene she intended to cause on the day the verdict came down.

Xu Huaisong and Li Shican exchanged a helpless look, then both lowered their heads and pinched the bridge of their noses at the same moment.

Ruan Yu, having no idea what had passed between them, was somewhat lost.

But neither of them appeared to have any intention of explaining.

Li Shican spoke first: “Don’t worry — it’s a manageable situation. My team will take care of it. Head home and get some rest, and stay off Weibo for the next few days.”

Ruan Yu nodded, and after he left, she slumped back against the headrest, her body and mind utterly drained.

Xu Huaisong said nothing, and drove the car out of the parking structure toward her apartment. When they arrived downstairs, however, he noticed a BMW parked there.

Ruan Yu had just pushed open the car door and stepped out when she heard Xu Huaisong say: “Wait.”

She stopped, and saw him unfasten his seatbelt and get out of the car. At the same moment, the driver’s side of the BMW opened, and a man stepped out.

He walked over to her in a few strides. “Are you Miss Ruan?” he asked — and then gestured to the passenger in the back seat. “Miss Cen’s father would like to speak with you.”

Xu Huaisong stepped in front of her. “Any conversation can go through me.”

The man looked puzzled. “And you are?”

“Her attorney.”

The driver glanced back. Cen Rongzhen gave a nod, stepped out from the rear seat, and with his walking stick tapping against the ground, made his way slowly toward the two of them. In the darkness of the night, a pair of sharp eyes — keen as a hawk’s — bore down with a weight that was difficult to meet.

Ruan Yu instinctively shifted a small step behind Xu Huaisong.

But the confrontation she had braced herself for did not come. The man who was well past his middle years bowed to them with deliberate formality — a full ninety degrees — then straightened and said: “Miss Ruan, I sincerely apologize for the trouble caused to you. I apologize on Sisi’s behalf, and I must also apologize to you as Sisi’s father. It is because I have been neglectful in guiding and caring for her that things have come to this.”

Ruan Yu had not anticipated a scene like this, and for a moment was too caught off guard to respond.

Xu Huaisong stepped aside, no longer standing between her and Cen Rongzhen.

Cen Rongzhen gave him a small nod — as if in thanks — then continued: “It was only today that I received the diagnostic report confirming that Sisi suffers from a serious psychiatric condition. Because of this, she has often shown obsessive and extreme behavior — and not only toward you. That said, I am telling you this not to ask for your sympathy or understanding. Wrong is wrong. You have every right to hold her accountable, and the Cen Family has every obligation to provide compensation. I only believe that you deserve to receive this explanation.”

Ruan Yu’s eyes flickered. After a brief silence, she gave a nod. “Thank you.”

Cen Rongzhen offered a small smile — he was evidently not a man who smiled often, and the slight curl of his lips looked a little stiff for it.

He said: “I have reviewed the compensation terms in the ruling. Beyond that, I would like to offer you an additional payment for emotional distress — or if there is any other form of compensation you feel you need, please say so.”

Ruan Yu shook her head. “What I hope for is simply that the impact of all this is brought to a minimum, and that my life — and Li Shican’s — can return to normal as soon as possible.”

“You don’t even need to ask for that — it is what should be done.” Cen Rongzhen’s smile came a little more naturally this time. “That boy Shican has a stubborn streak too… Rest assured, I will cooperate fully to clarify the facts of the matter, and if necessary I am also willing to publicly disclose my daughter’s condition.”

At that, Cen Rongzhen glanced at Xu Huaisong — likely seeking his opinion as Ruan Yu’s attorney.

Xu Huaisong gave a warm, easy smile and said: “I have no objection to the compensation arrangements. I do have one question, though, if you’ll forgive the directness — Mr. Cen, how did you come to find this address tonight?”

Cen Rongzhen paused, then shook his head at his own lapse. “Getting old — my memory isn’t what it was. I nearly forgot the most important thing I came to say.” He looked back at Ruan Yu. “The reason I came tonight was also to warn you, Miss Ruan — your home address is something I found written in Sisi’s notebook. I don’t know whether she has taken any other extreme actions, but over the next couple of days I will be going through all of her recent outside communications to investigate and rule out any further risks. For your safety, I would ask that you not stay here for the time being. Any expenses this inconvenience causes, I will cover entirely.”

Ruan Yu looked up at the darkened window of apartment 302, swallowing the tremor in her chest, and said: “Alright.”

Cen Rongzhen gave them both a nod of farewell and turned to get back in his car.

Ruan Yu was still coming to terms with his final words when she heard Xu Huaisong say: “Let’s go. Head up and get some clothes.”

“Hmm?”

“You’ll stay at mine tonight.”

Author’s Note: Even the antagonist has ended up playing the role of a helpful supporting character — really now.