Chapter 3.2 Old Acquaintance

It was a high-end diamond ring, but it was the silver circle they got when they registered seven years ago. Tears uncontrollably streamed down her face, “Don’t drink too much, your stomach isn’t well.”

Inside the bar’s VIP room, the scene was colorful, with people dancing and reveling.

Ji Jing’an, feeling a bit annoyed, casually agreed. He was a bit drunk and, for some reason, hearing Jian Meng’s indifferent tone made him lose his appetite. He casually told her to go to bed early and hung up the phone.

Jian Meng sent another message: “If you feel uncomfortable, call me, I’ll come pick you up.”

Ji Jing’an heard the phone ringing, impatiently turned it off and threw it aside.

Shen Anyun glanced at the situation, motioned for the women surrounding Ji Jing’an to move away, and sat beside him.

“You’re drunk.” Shen Anyun tried to stop him. He didn’t want to deal with taking Ji Jing’an home while he was over the limit.

Ji Jing’an pushed Shen Anyun’s hand away and poured himself another large glass of alcohol, “I’m not drunk, don’t bother me.”

To those who didn’t know Ji Jing’an well, he appeared composed and stern, making them think he wasn’t drunk. Only Shen Anyun knew that when Ji Jing’an became slightly agitated, he was truly intoxicated.

“I haven’t had much to drink; I can take you home. Otherwise, it’s raining heavily.” Shen Anyun stood up and tried to pull Ji Jing’an, but he shook off Shen Anyun’s hand.

“I’m not going home, take me to Vivian’s place.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll take you there.” Shen Anyun agreed.

After helping Ji Jing’an into the car and settling him in the back seat, he had already fallen asleep.

Ji Jing’an’s drunken state was unique in that there was no wild behavior; he simply drank a lot and then fell into a deep sleep.

Shen Anyun checked the time; it was already one in the morning.

Shen Anyun particularly disliked Vivian, that little vixen. He even found her annoying, with her skin almost completely exposed, the pungent smell of perfume noticeable from three meters away. He couldn’t understand why Ji Jing’an’s taste was deteriorating, rejecting his gentle and clean wife at home for that kind of seductress.

After taking a shower and changing into pajamas, Jian Meng lay down, but the doorbell rang.

She hurried to answer it, only to be hit with a strong smell of alcohol.

Jian Meng was slightly stunned, feeling a bit more sober.

She was used to it; after all, he hadn’t listened to her advice and had gotten drunk. She took Ji Jing’an’s weight and he, in his intoxicated state, embraced her. Jian Meng stumbled back a couple of steps.

His clothes were mostly wet, his hair soaked by the rain, looking pitiful.

Seeing Jian Meng’s teary eyes, Shen Anyun felt a bit shaky and guilty, as if he was the one who had strayed, not understanding how Ji Jing’an could be so heartless.

Shen Anyun massaged Ji Jing’an’s sore shoulders caused by his dragging and said with a hint of apology, “Sorry to trouble you, President Shen. Come in for a glass of water!”

“Don’t be polite, I won’t bother you. I’ll leave first.” Shen Anyun felt a bit uncomfortable in his stomach, waved his hand, and went downstairs.

After closing the door, Jian Meng dragged Ji Jing’an into the bathroom.

Ji Jing’an was tall, nearly six feet, and Jian Meng struggled to drag him into the bathroom.

Luckily, Ji Jing’an’s alcohol tolerance was decent, not causing a scene.

Halfway through the shower, Ji Jing’an hugged her, soaking her gray nightgown as well.

“Ji Jing’an, can you finish showering first?” Jian Meng tried to push him away, feeling helpless, but he held her even tighter and pulled her into the bathtub.

“Vivian, come over, I feel uncomfortable…”

Jian Meng’s movements tensed up, but the next second, she returned to normal. However, her grip tightened as she yanked Ji Jing’an’s hand away.

The pain in her heart couldn’t be seen—unless you sliced open her chest and dug out the bleeding heart, only then could you understand.

“I’m not some Vivian. You should just take your shower.”

Fortunately, after Ji Jing’an finished his shower, he fell asleep without doing anything further.

She turned off the lights, and the room fell into silence. It was still raining outside. Jian Meng held his face in her hands and kissed him softly.

“I’ll forgive you, just because you’re so good-looking,” she whispered.

“You’d better cherish me. If I die, no one will love you like I do. No one will clean you up and take care of you when you’re drunk, and no one will love you this deeply after ten years.”

On the windowsill sat a simple glass vase with a single rose in full bloom. Jian Meng was used to this—so long as the rose was there, so was her love for Ji Jing’an.

Ji Jing’an opened his eyes to daylight. At first, he thought he was still at Vivian’s place. But when he turned over, he saw Jian Meng lying beside him. He froze for a moment, then felt… disappointed.

He got dressed, buttoned his cuffs, and glanced at Jian Meng on the bed before leaving. Her hair had grown longer, her bangs almost covering her eyes. Her long eyelashes were beautiful, and she still liked to bury half her face in the blanket while curling up in a ball.

Ji Jing’an felt no stirrings in his heart. It was the same as every other morning in the past ten years—dull and uneventful.

He had no idea that such ordinary mornings were already numbered in the time he had carelessly discarded.

People always take for granted what they have, never understanding that anything uncherished will eventually be lost.

The door clicked shut, and the room returned to stillness.

Jian Meng opened her eyes and slowly sat up. She walked to the floor-to-ceiling window, pressing herself against the glass, her lifeless eyes staring out at the street below.

If only you could turn back.

The rose by the window…

“The leaves are slightly withered, with a slight black edge on the petals.”