5

Was he here to share some sort of happy news? Like announcing he was finally marrying his beloved Sister Ai Qing?

But even if that were true, there was no need to come all the way here just to tell her.
And frankly, she didn’t want to know. Not even a little.

Xiao Qi’s gaze settled on her, lingering for an uncomfortably long moment.

Meng Yu frowned in confusion. She didn’t understand the look in his eyes—he had never looked at her that way before.

Not once.

“What is it you actually want?” she asked, her voice cold.

At that moment, Xiao Qi’s emotions were more tangled than he’d expected.

In truth, when they first broke up, he hadn’t felt much. Over the years, he’d grown used to handling everything with calm detachment.

He kept living his life—on time to work, on time home, doing everything that needed doing.

It seemed, on the surface, that nothing had really changed.

It wasn’t until two months later that he realized something was wrong.

He came home one evening, and the moment he opened the door, he thought he saw a familiar silhouette flash past the doorway of the bedroom.

It was the room she used to stay in when she visited.

He froze.

Almost without thinking, his body moved faster than his mind. He rushed over to check—

But the room was empty.

Perfectly neat, eerily untouched.         

No sign of her.

No scent, no lingering presence.

She hadn’t been here at all.

It had just been a trick of the light—his own hallucination.

Outside, the city had just lit up for the night, traffic flowing in glowing streams beneath the skyline.

He sat on the edge of that little bed—the one she used to sleep in—staring into nothing.

And out of nowhere, a strange sense of loneliness washed over him.

It was a foreign feeling.

He’d thought he’d already grown used to solitude, especially after losing both his parents.

But now, sitting alone in that room she used to brighten, a dull ache started to settle in his chest.

That feeling lingered for a long time. During that period, Ai Qing often came by with Huan Huan to keep him company.

Even though being with the mother and daughter brought a warm happiness to his home, the loneliness never quite left him.

No matter how much laughter filled the house, there was always a sense that something was missing.

It was strange—he had never felt anything like this for her before.

And yet, ever since the day he saw that fleeting shadow of her, she kept crossing his mind now and then.

Even when they were together, he rarely thought about her.

He found himself remembering little moments: Like when she suddenly jumped in front of him, pretending to scare him, then grinning with her eyes squinting as she asked, “Did you miss me?”

Or when she twirled in a new dress, chin tilted up with a smug smile, teasing, “Aren’t you lucky to have such a beautiful girlfriend?”

He remembered how he would always turn away silently whenever she asked that.
But before he looked away, even someone as reserved and distant as him couldn’t help but be stunned by her beauty—his heart skipping a beat.

She was always so vivid and radiant—when she smiled, it felt like even ice and snow could melt.

Thinking about her was never enough. He often dreamed of her, but waking up only brought emptiness and disappointment. She was gone. She had already broken up with him.

Five more months passed like that, and she still hadn’t contacted him. She had never gone so long without reaching out. Back when they were together, she never bombarded him with calls every day, but she would phone him every couple of days without fail.

He realized he was starting to lose his grip on life without her. That girl named Meng Yu—she always liked to stick close to him. She always smiled at him. When he was working, she’d sit with her chin in her hands, watching him in a daze.

But now, all those little everyday moments had been gone for five months.

Panic began to set in. He finally couldn’t hold back and called her. It was rare for him to take the initiative like this, but to his surprise, her line was constantly busy. Only later did he realize—she had blocked his number. He tried other messaging apps, but again, to his shock, she had deleted every one of his contacts. He sent her friend requests, but she never accepted them.

That sense of panic only grew stronger.

Even he couldn’t figure out why it felt like this—when had he gotten so used to her presence in his life? He had never imagined that her leaving would throw him into such disarray.

He remembered when she broke up with him five months ago. He had always assumed she would come back once she cooled down. He was used to being the one chased. In his mind, Meng Yu couldn’t live without him.

But this time… it seemed she really meant it.

The panic left lingering aftereffects. He started making basic mistakes at work. He would accidentally call out Meng Yu’s name when having dinner with Ai Qing. He began to suffer from insomnia, especially on nights when he dreamed of her—on those nights, sleep became impossible.

He tried to find her, but she had moved. He had no idea where she’d gone. After asking around through various channels, he finally learned her new address. He went to her new place several times, but she was never there. Later, he heard she had gone traveling—with no fixed destination. He didn’t even have a way to go after her.

Lately, he had been coming to her place every weekend, knocking on her door each time—only to leave disappointed, over and over again.

But yesterday, he finally heard she was back in town. So early this morning, he couldn’t wait any longer and booked the first flight to Yancheng. Yet even then, no one answered when he knocked on her door. So he waited for her in the underground garage.

After what felt like forever, he finally saw her appear.

He hadn’t seen her in over a year. Her hair had grown longer, but aside from that, she hadn’t changed much. She was still as beautiful as ever, her figure still graceful, her expression calm—too calm. There was no trace of sadness on her face, no sign she had ever been heartbroken.

But then again, it had been over a year since their breakup. A year was long enough for many things to fade. And yet, for him, the time hadn’t dulled anything. In fact, the longer she was gone, the more he missed her. For reasons he couldn’t even explain, the distance had only deepened his longing. But clearly, she didn’t feel the same.

Her calmness stirred a faint anger in him, but the joy of seeing her again overpowered everything else. He rushed out of the car, a little flustered, and it wasn’t until she was almost at the elevator that he finally managed to call her name.

She turned and looked at him. He watched her expression closely, but she didn’t show even the slightest hint of happiness at seeing him again. Her face remained neutral, composed.

She asked, “Why are you here?”

Why was he here? Of course, he came for her.

He had never lowered himself like this in front of her before—never taken the initiative to seek her out. It felt unfamiliar, awkward. But he wanted her back too much to care.

So after a brief silence, he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t do enough back then. I made you feel insecure. But things between me and Ai Qing—it wasn’t what you think. I owe her family a debt. They supported me through school. When she ran into trouble, I felt it was only right to help. I owed her that much.”

“Oh?” Meng Yu’s tone was laced with sarcasm. “There are plenty of ways to repay a favor, aren’t there? No need to get so personally involved. No need to act like a discount dad, either. Buying her a house, helping raise her daughter—that’s not enough? You even brought her into your company and your home. Sure, pay back your debt. But did you ever think about me, your girlfriend at the time? I’m not as generous as you, Xiao Qi. You may be okay with someone else’s child calling you ‘dad,’ but I’m not.”

It was over anyway, so she didn’t feel the need to hold back. Whatever she felt, she said. She could already guess what Xiao Qi would say.

He’d probably tell her not to be childish, that she shouldn’t be so petty about a kid. Or maybe, “Meng Yu, you shouldn’t be so unreasonable.” Either way, it always came down to her needing to compromise. He was used to that—used to her giving in.

Suddenly, Meng Yu felt drained. She didn’t even want to hear his answer anymore.

Just as she turned to leave, she heard him say, “I didn’t handle things well. I made you upset, and I’m sorry. Don’t worry—you won’t hear Huan Huan call me ‘Dad’ again.”

She froze in her tracks and looked at him sharply. Had she heard him right?

Xiao Qi… actually compromised?

But what did it matter now? It was already over.

She shook her head, her expression calm, voice even.

“There is no ‘next time,’ Xiao Qi. We’re done.”

Meng Yu stepped into the elevator. But before the doors could close, Xiao Qi hurried over and forced his way inside. He stood beside her, looked down at her, and met her confused gaze.

“I’ll make it up to you,” he said quietly. “Everything I owe you… I’ll make it right, little by little.”

Meng Yu: “……”

Owe her? Make it up to her? Hearing those words from Xiao Qi—it felt surreal, like something out of a dream.

She thought about all the years she’d been by his side—his coldness, his silence, the way he shut her out again and again until she had nothing left but disappointment. Why now? Why only now, when she had finally let go?

When she had loved him the most, he hadn’t even been willing to look her in the eye.
Now that she was almost ready to forget him—now he wanted to make amends?

Wasn’t it too late?

She didn’t expect anything anymore.

“No need,” she said calmly. “It’s already over. There’s nothing left for you to make up for. When I said I wanted to break up last time, didn’t you agree? Since you agreed, why not make a clean break of it?”

Xiao Qi said nothing. He just looked at her—quietly, intently.

His gaze was deep, complicated, as if there were a thousand things he wanted to say but couldn’t. For a moment, she even thought she saw something like tenderness in his eyes—real, unguarded emotion. Something he had never shown her before.

The elevator fell into silence.

After a long while, he finally said softly, “If I don’t do something now, I’m afraid I’ll regret it.”

Meng Yu almost laughed when she heard that.

She never imagined there would come a day when Xiao Qi would look at her like that—with such intensity, such warmth.

She never imagined he’d say something like he wanted to make it up to her.
He had always been so cold, so distant. No matter how hard she loved him, he never truly saw her.

And now, just when she had finally made peace with walking away, he showed up—saying he wanted to make amends.

What was the point?

It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

Besides… she was about to marry someone else.

Just then, the elevator doors opened. Meng Yu stepped out, face calm, voice steady.

“You’re too late, Xiao Qi. There’s no future for us—not in this lifetime.”

=^_^=

Author has something to say: Meng Yu breaking my heart was fun for a while… but now it’s Xiao Qi’s turn to suffer.

The male lead appears in the next chapter.