Xu Qingyan remained in the dark about what happened to Shen Yuechu after he dropped out of school. On the day of his departure, she had an important competition and he wanted to be there to show his support. She was furious back then, unable to fathom why he’d jeopardize his own future. She insisted he shouldn’t come unless he changed his mind.

In the past, Shen Yuechu typically went along with whatever Xu Qingyan said, even if it involved playful teasing. However, this time was different. Despite giving him an ultimatum, he stuck to his decision, leaving her baffled and hurt.

He argued they were never meant for the same world. He’d say, “This path’s all I’ve got.” She’d counter with sarcasm, “So, being a thug is better than some office drone?”

He nodded, infuriating her. Back then, she was anything but her calm present self. She would get impatient, worried and angry because of him. She told him multiple times, “In the future, I’ll become a pianist, maybe even go abroad. At the very least, I’ll be a music teacher. And you’ll be a delinquent. Do you really think we can still be friends?” 

In those days, she was more rational and worldly-wise, and she was strongly influenced by societal norms.

She had lost her cool with him before, and he still had the audacity to joke, “Being a musician has its challenges. Can’t exactly show up at your door for piano lessons. How about you switch careers and become a doctor? Then I could at least visit you for check-ups.”

“Shen Yuechu, I’m not joking! When you leave this time, don’t ever come back. Don’t find me, and don’t ever bring up ‘us’ again.”

Her words flowed fast, leaving him bewildered. He asked, “Are you saying that if I don’t go, wyou’d stay with me?”

Would she? She hadn’t answered then.

“You know, that’s the best thing I’ve heard before I leave.”

In a sudden shift to seriousness, he said, “Promise me, when you meet someone special, give it a chance. You deserve the best. No need to carry me in your thoughts.”

She thought it was a typical lovers’ quarrel. However, the next day, he had vanished completely from her life. 

His ability to let go so decisively still lingered in her memory.

Cheng Ran’s words echoed in her ears: “Our line of work can be quite dangerous, which is why my family arranged for someone who looked a lot like me to act as my double. At first, the resemblance was minimal, but he turned out to be incredibly clever, maybe too clever. After intense training, he not only mimicked my actions and habits but also underwent some cosmetic adjustments to make us look almost identical. He became a near-perfect copy, even to the point where I was surprised. We rarely showed up in the same place at the same time. He played my shadow, protecting me from danger multiple times. I’ve always seen him as a brother, and, frankly, I owe him my life.”

So, after he left, he encountered Cheng Ran.

Amidst all he had said, she latched onto one crucial point: “Is it very dangerous, this body double of yours?”

Cheng Ran leaned forward, tapping his fingers on the tabletop and asked, “Was it dangerous when you saved Liang Jiankong in Nepal?”

Without hesitation, Xu Qingyan nodded, “Very dangerous.”

Cheng Ran scoffed and said, “Liang Jiankong was much more ruthless to me than that incident.”

Xu Qingyan felt an unsettling premonition.

“It seems you don’t know the real cause of his death,” Cheng Ran continued.

Xu Qingyan’s heart began to race. She had heard from Cao Jin that he fell from a great height and suffered severe burns all over his body. Whether he died from the fall or the burns, and what caused the fatal injuries, she no longer wanted to know.

She remained absent when they claimed the body.

At the cremation, she did not show up.

Qingming, Winter Solstice, his birthday and death anniversary – she never marked any of them.

And this was the cause of harsh judgment. They accused her of being heartless, distant and arrogant. Profanities were thrown her way. They claimed that she would have been ruined if Shen Yuechu hadn’t intervened, and she wouldn’t be where she was now without him.

The world knew about Shen Yuechu’s affection for her. Yet, she refused to respond, leaving him hanging onto hope.

He was gone, yet she didn’t shed a single tear.

Ling Qiao, on the other hand, mourned for her. Her best friend suffered sleepless nights, crying every day but never explained herself.

Why didn’t she show up?

In reality, she had no idea about his passing. Her parents had taken extreme measures to keep her in the dark. They wanted to ensuring her full focus on the international piano competition. As she stood on that stage, accepting awards and posing for photos, Cao Jin waited outside the concert hall with tearful eyes.

She was overwhelmed. However, before she could react, her father had locked her in the house. That continued until the day of his cremation. During this time, she staged a hunger strike in protest. All she wanted was some confirmation, any hint that it was all a lie.

What happened afterward?

Perhaps it was fear, an intense fear that shook her to her core. Fear that, once confirmed, she’d never see him again.

If an afterlife existed and his spirit lived on, she’d communicate with him privately within her heart, away from prying eyes.

Suddenly, her relationship with her family deteriorated. She dropped out of school abruptly, gave up her beloved piano – her life’s calling, and suddenly switched major.

While there were plenty of speculations, no one knew the exact reason. 

When she reappeared in the public eye, Xu Qingyan remained the same – calm, soft-spoken, and avoiding social interaction. Her face didn’t reveal anything unusual. She seemed determined to live a quiet life by avoiding making friends or enemies. She thought she would continue to quietly follow his advice for the rest of her life, but she had a feeling that she was destined to disappoint him. Did he not realize that she couldn’t navigate life without him?

Today, Cheng Ran told her, “You probably don’t know why he really died, do you?”

“Our family’s long-standing feud with the Li family is a complex tale. In simple terms, they wanted to destroy us, and we wanted the same for them. Over the past two years, I’ve been determined to take down Liang Jiankong, but why? For myself, of course, for our family, and for my brother, Yuechu.”

“He died for my sake. If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t be sitting here today.”

“Eight years ago, Liang Jiankong orchestrated everything. Yuechu and I split up after setting numerous traps. Liang Jiankong had already suspected I had a body double, but couldn’t locate me. He ultimately resorted to murder. I managed to escape, but unfortunately, Yuechu was cornered on the mountaintop.”

Xu Qingyan’s face had already turned pale. Cheng Ran didn’t pause and continued, step by step, pushing her into the vortex of the truth. “He set fire to the mountain, engulfing Yuechu in flames. In the end, he fell from the cliff while struggling.”

As Cheng Ran described the gruesome scenes, he closely observed Xu Qingyan’s face. She looked as though she might faint at any moment, yet she held herself together, listening in silence.

“When we found him, he was just a charred corpse. Liang Jiankong believed I had died and was seething with rage when he found out I was alive. He must have dug into Shen Yuechu’s background. He’s probably figured it out. The first time he saw you, he should have recognized you, just like I did.”

Xu Qingyan’s heart suddenly tightened.

Cheng Ran’s words opened up a new possibility. Had Liang Jiankong been aware of her true identity all along? If that was the case, it cast his actions during this period in a different light.

But what if Cheng Ran’s claims weren’t true?

Sensing her uncertainty, Cheng Ran pulled out a photograph from his pocket and placed it face-down in front of Xu Qingyan. “You can keep it. If it makes you uncomfortable, feel free to tear it up.”

Xu Qingyan’s fingers lightly brushed the back of the photograph, keeping her in a kind of spell. She still hadn’t flipped it over.

She stared at the photo and asked Cheng Ran, “Why are you telling me all this?”

Cheng Ran’s kept his gaze locked onto her pale face as he dropped a bombshell, “You saved the murderer who killed your boyfriend.”

His words were like a dagger to her heart. Coldness engulfed her, and an icy pain surged through her. Her heart raced wildly, making it almost impossible to breathe.

In Xu Qingyan’s mind, vivid memories of her desperate efforts to save Liang Jiankong played like a movie. She had risked her medical career, giving her all to rescue him from the brink of death.

She had become a doctor for Shen Yuechu, but instead, she saved the life of his murderer.

If she had known all this back then, could she have held her surgical blade with such steadiness?

She sat there, like a soulless puppet, lost in deep thought.

She Yuechu was the only person who could elicit such expressions from her. It reminded Cheng Ran of the first time he had met Shen Yuechu.

He was intelligent and proud, yet he carried himself with restraint, appearing carefree but displaying an uncanny determination in his eyes.

He was instantly captivated by Shen Yuechu.

Shen Yuechu claimed to be an orphan with no attachments, allowing him to be audacious. This quick acceptance by the gang’s elders was a result of his demeanor.

Cheng Ran had indeed conducted some background checks on Shen Yuechu, but he had only found basic information and no mention of Xu Qingyan.

So, he claimed that Shen Yu Chu had her photo with him and even said that Xu Qing Yan was his girlfriend; this was all a lie. Shen Yu Chu had never mentioned Xu Qing Yan.

However, Cheng Ran had suspected that there might be a woman in Shen Yuechu’s heart. It was because Shen Yuechu had never engaged with women or indulged in vices like drinking and promiscuity. His self-control was frighteningly strong.

Now, Cheng Ran understood it to some extent.

This woman was someone you’d fear defiling by getting too close. Naturally, you’d want to protect her and keep her away from the chaotic world, searching for a place of peace and beauty.

Unfortunately, in the end, she was dragged into this filthy and sordid world.

The sun inched higher, casting a warm glow over the city, breathing life into the bustling streets.

“Do you want to hear about Yuechu?” Cheng Ran asked.

Xu Qingyan gently interrupted, “No need.” Her voice was as delicate as a whisper, “I want some time alone.”

Cheng Ran sensed she’d had enough for today and deserved some space.

“Alright, contact me if you need anything.”

As he got up to leave, he added, “We share the same goals.”

Xu Qingyan’s eyelashes quivered, but she remained silent.

Once he left, Xu Qingyan inhaled deeply. Her fingertips were ice-cold as she turned the photograph over.

The image, captured using a Polaroid camera, unfolded a scene in a dimly lit bar. It was a candid moment of two people engrossed in conversation and the clinking of glasses. It seemed to be a sneak shot, taken with both subjects caught off guard. In the photo, as they turned to the camera, Cheng Ran raised his glass in a blurry, casual toast, while the person next to him leaned back in a carefree posture, casting a sidelong and somewhat enigmatic glance.

“Miss, are you done with your meal?” The restaurant owner, cloth in hand, approached to clear the table, while a young couple waited eagerly for their turn.

Xu Qingyan quietly stepped aside, navigating the bustling crowd as she made her way back home. She retrieved the photograph of the cuckoo clock and placed it alongside the other picture. It was evident that the one with Cheng Ran appeared much more vivid.

Before long, she carefully stored the photos, took a shower, changed her clothes, and headed out for work as if nothing had happened, all while adhering to her usual routine. 

Xu Qingyan took a seat on the bus. The fragmented sunlight danced like shards of stained glass on the window, but it couldn’t penetrate her calm eyes and reach her heart. 

Once the box of cherished memories was opened, it couldn’t be closed again.

A sudden realization dawned on her: his death anniversary was drawing near.

That young man, like a gentle breeze and warm sunlight. His smile sweetened her heart, and she longed to play the musical piece “Marriage d’amour” at their dreamy wedding.