CHAPTER 2

Chi Shuang slept deeply and had a beautiful dream.

In the dream, she wore a pearl-white satin mermaid gown, walking arm in arm with Liang Qian through a crowd of guests. Smiling, they accepted blessings from friends and family. When Liang Qian slipped the engagement ring onto her finger, promising to love and protect her for a lifetime, she was so happy she felt as though she were floating in a bubble of soft pink bliss—

How could she be this happy?

Her fiancé, her future husband, was almost exactly the man she had fantasized about for years.

He checked every box—tall, handsome, worldly yet humble.

By society’s standards, he was a rare and exceptional man. If it weren’t for multiple sources confirming it, she wouldn’t have believed that she was truly his first real girlfriend. He came from a powerful family yet remained disciplined and upright. Even her incredibly picky parents—who always thought only celestial beings were worthy of her—praised him endlessly.

Beyond all that, they were in love.

Of course, under the influence of certain profound filmmakers, she had also come to think of “love” as something elusive—intangible and hard to define.

The director who had discovered her once drunkenly mused, “In all my films, love is knowing something is impossible yet still choosing to pursue it. You know being with this person will bring countless hardships, and yet, you still want to be with them. That is love.”

She didn’t understand. Outwardly, she pretended to listen humbly, but inwardly, she scoffed. Why would she ever choose a man who would bring her hardships?

Did she love Liang Qian? It was hard to say. But out of all the boyfriends she had dated, he was the only one to whom she had ever said “yes” when he proposed.

“Shuangshuang, you are my first love. And my only love.”

“I will love you forever and ever.”

In the dream, Chi Shuang beamed at Liang Qian as he confessed his love before the guests.

“I will too.”

But for some reason, the moment she said it, she suddenly realized—it was just a dream.

Because she had never once responded with “I will too” in real life.

Liang Qian had asked her before.

She had always answered confidently, “Of course you should love me forever. Even if I don’t love you, you still have to love me forever.”

“I will too” was a reciprocal promise.

What? If I stop loving you, you’ll take back your love too?

Liang Qian had pondered her words, then smiled and nodded. “You’re right, Shuangshuang. Even if you don’t love me anymore, I will still love you forever.”

…

Jiang Shiyu heard sobbing through the door. She hurriedly knocked before pushing it open, only to find Chi Shuang sitting on the bed, hugging her knees, crying uncontrollably.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Shiyu approached the bed, her voice gentle.

Chi Shuang didn’t answer. She just cried silently for a long time before wiping her tears away. Her delicate features looked pitiful. This time, she didn’t curse anyone—not even Meng Huaiqian, whom she usually insulted at least 800 times a day. Instead, she suddenly spoke in an eerily calm voice, “Shiyu, I’m really grateful to you.”

Jiang Shiyu’s eyes welled up with warmth. She reached out and held Chi Shuang’s hand. “Shuangshuang.”

“I keep feeling like Liang Qian came to say goodbye to me,” Chi Shuang murmured blankly. “He said what he wanted to say in my dream. And maybe… I realized something too. I said what he most wanted to hear. Dreams are a kind of omen, aren’t they? I don’t even feel that regretful anymore. In the dream, we already had our engagement banquet. Now that I think about it, maybe everything was destined from the start. Do you remember? Last winter, when we traveled together, there was that famous temple… I drew a fortune slip—”

Jiang Shiyu vaguely recalled it.

Yes, they had both drawn fortune slips at the time.

Hers was a supreme blessing, and shortly after, her family’s neighborhood was selected for redevelopment.

Shuangshuang was the worst possible fortune. The monk who interpreted it said it was related to her romantic fate.

Basically, it meant that she and Liang Qian would struggle to be together in the end.

“I was so angry back then, but now I think I’ve come to terms with it. There are some things I can only tell you,” Chi Shuang chuckled softly, her expression playful, though her eyes held sorrow. “The thought that he truly only loved me in his lifetime feels so romantic. You know me—I’m selfish like that. Even if I don’t love him anymore, I still want him to always love me, to always remember me, to treat me like his irreplaceable first love, enshrined in his heart.”

“He did.”

Jiang Shiyu looked at her with a mix of sympathy and heartache.

“All right.” Chi Shuang forced a smile. “He’s dead, and I’m still alive. If I keep going on like this, I probably won’t last much longer either.”

“If that happens, my grandparents and my grandfather would be heartbroken in the afterlife.”

Jiang Shiyu hugged her. “Don’t think like that. If your parents heard you say this, they’d be devastated.”

Chi Shuang had truly begun to pick herself back up again.

Jiang Shiyu observed her for a week before finally returning to work. Half a month passed, yet like the depths of the vast ocean, Liang Qian remained missing.

Meng Huaiqian had exhausted all possible resources, but to humans, the deep sea represented the unknown. And so, Meng Huaiqian ordered searches along the coastline instead.

There is nothing new under the sun. Liang Qian’s incident indeed attracted a lot of attention, but any sensational news, at most, lasts only a week before people forget.

Late that night, Meng Huaiqian returned to the old house. His father, who had ordered him back, was still waiting for him in the study.

Father and son sat in silence for a long, long time before Meng’s father finally spoke in a deep voice, “How much longer do you plan to hide the truth about Liang Qian? You know better than anyone what really happened that day. Liang Qian did save your life, but if it weren’t for him, this incident wouldn’t have happened in the first place!”

A trace of pain flashed between Meng Huaiqian’s brows. His voice was low and heavy. “Please stop.”

“Why shouldn’t I say it? Do you think I don’t know who tried to push you into the sea? That was a department manager from Liang Qian’s company. If he hadn’t been pushed to that point, if he didn’t have a wife and children, would he have gone that far?” Meng’s father rebuked.

Liang Qian and Meng Huaiqian had strikingly similar builds.

That day, Meng Huaiqian had accidentally been bumped by a waiter, spilling wine on his suit. As a devoted boyfriend, Liang Qian, knowing that he would be taking his girlfriend Chi Shuang to a food tasting the next day and worried she might smell the alcohol on him and be upset, had prepared a spare suit in advance. This had been a habit of his ever since they started dating.

Liang Qian lent his suit to Meng Huaiqian.

After a few rounds of drinks, Meng Huaiqian stepped outside for some air, only to be mistaken for Liang Qian by that department manager, who then desperately tried to push him. Liang Qian happened to walk out at that moment, saw what was happening, and shielded Meng Huaiqian. In the scuffle, Liang Qian fell into the sea. It was late at night, and the situation had unfolded too suddenly… No one else had time to react.

Meng Huaiqian’s temples throbbed. He had reached his limit of endurance, clenching his hands so tightly that the veins on the back of his hands bulged. “Please stop.”

He lifted his head, red veins creeping into his eyes. “…A’Qian and I grew up together. No matter what, he did save my life.”

Meng’s father slammed the table, breathing heavily. “So now, everyone thinks Liang Qian died for you, and you’re just going to carry that weight on your shoulders?”

“That’s my burden to bear.” Meng Huaiqian lowered his gaze. “It has nothing to do with you, nothing to do with the Meng family.”

“Nothing to do?”

Meng’s father let out a furious laugh. “So what do you plan to do? Clean up the mess in Liang Qian’s company?”

Meng Huaiqian remained silent for a long time. “Do you have anything else to say? If not, I’ll be leaving.”

Arguments between father and son had always ended with Meng Huaiqian’s silence.

Meng’s father stared at him coldly, finally saying nothing and letting him go. Just as Meng Huaiqian was about to leave, his father spoke in an icy tone, “I don’t care if you want to work yourself to death for Liang Qian, but if you end up affecting this family or the company…”

He didn’t finish the warning.

The truth was, between a father growing older and a son in his prime, Meng’s father could no longer use paternal authority to suppress Meng Huaiqian. Both of them knew this well.

Yet, blood ties still bound them, and Meng Huaiqian was bound to show him respect.

Meng Huaiqian thought, what’s the point of this constant lecturing? What could he really do for Liang Qian?

Liang Qian’s parents had died in a plane crash years ago. Among his remaining relatives, not a single one was closer to him than the household staff. No company of considerable size could be run by just one person, and his absence didn’t bring the operations to a halt. In the past two weeks, everyone continued fulfilling their roles, and the company functioned as usual.

Other than the company, the only thing Liang Qian had truly cared about was his girlfriend.

As Meng Huaiqian walked out of the study, the dim lights of the corridor cast long shadows. He took a few steps before stopping, leaning against the wall. His body bent forward in exhaustion as he exhaled a deep breath, as if trying to release even the slightest trace of the guilt burning inside him.

Chi Shuang had lost a lot of weight. Without her boyfriend by her side, her schedule had become emptier than ever.

Even before Liang Qian’s disappearance, Chi Shuang had been planning to leave the industry. She was well aware of her own abilities—her acting skills were just average. The director who discovered her had said as much: she was naturally suited for this career, but unfortunately, she simply didn’t enjoy it.

Moreover, competition in the industry had grown fiercer. Though she had never stirred up scandals, she wasn’t exactly a saint either. If she continued like this, she might even end up playing second fiddle to a younger actress she had once clashed with.

With these thoughts in mind, she revisited her contract, saw that she had less than two years left on it, and decided not to renew it or sign with another company. She had been in the industry since her teenage years. Though she never skyrocketed to fame, she had consistently landed roles and earned a considerable amount of money.

Following the advice of a senior colleague, she had invested in real estate before property prices soared.

Beyond that, she had hired professionals to manage her finances, and the returns were quite decent.

In short, after leaving the industry, she could retire comfortably.

But she didn’t want to just sit around doing nothing. Teaming up with her cousin, who had extensive experience in the restaurant business, they decided to open a restaurant together. The space had just been renovated—everything was ready except for the grand opening. Her cousin was so anxious she was breaking out in cold sores, terrified that Chi Shuang might abandon the project.

Despite having successfully exited the industry, Chi Shuang still retained some old habits—wearing sunglasses whenever she went out in the morning.

When she arrived at the restaurant, her cousin rushed over as if she were a living deity. “Shuang! My darling! You’re finally here!”

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, her cousin’s expression shifted dramatically. With a mournful look, she said, “Shuang, my dear, my heart aches for you.”

Chi Shuang: “……”

Just then, her phone rang.

It was Meng Huaiqian.

She hadn’t saved his number, but by now, those eleven digits were all too familiar.

Her face immediately darkened. With an irritated expression, she answered as if the person on the other end owed her a billion yuan.

“Meng Huaiqian, are you done yet?!”