Chapter 67: “You Must Stay With Me”

Her expectations for love were too pure, but in moments of desperation, she suddenly realized that the sincere heart she pulled from the mud was already soiled.

The cicadas buzzed loudly in the afternoon as Ou Jinghe sat under the air conditioning, staring blankly at the menu. After uninstalling Day and Night, she had instructed her employees to rearrange the tables and chairs in the yard and on the first floor, cleaned the ceiling lights and the signboard, and now in her idle time, her heart felt empty. Hidden beneath the cash register were a few pieces of clothing she had bought listlessly, purchased absentmindedly with Gao Yuan’s supplementary card. The first way to draw boundaries with Zheng Zeyan was to spend with her husband’s card. After all, she was still a married woman; even if everything was in ruins, he was still a harbor she could rely on. Despite those clothes being unsuitable—wrong sizes, bizarre colors—she made the purchases out of spite.

The second method of drawing boundaries was to pick up all the backup options in her phone and say to each one, “I miss you.” She had always despised going back to old flames; men she had no interest in since childhood had never been in her eyes. Now, lowering herself, quite a few replied—those with families seeking emotional solace, those who were single too long waiting for encounters, those indifferent to romance but not disliking Ou Jinghe—all responded. But just thinking about Zheng Zeyan’s vacant expression when lost in thought and his obsessive stubbornness when focused, she felt a numbness in her chest. Such a person tied himself around her, humiliating her in love and then professing his love. To Ou Jinghe, it felt like a nightmare.

Her expectations for love were too pure, but in moments of desperation, she suddenly realized that the sincere heart she pulled from the mud was already tainted. Zheng Zeyan was obsessed with the ashes after arson but suddenly decided to pull himself out of the rotten swamp. Between them, who deserved whom? Was she worthy of such a lover?

Suddenly, Gao Yuan sent a message: “It’s surprising that you actually used my supplementary card.”

“What’s wrong with spending my own husband’s money? Is it not allowed?” Ou Jinghe immediately found a bag on an overseas shopping site and swiped Gao Yuan’s supplementary card again: “I haven’t bought enough yet.”

“What’s wrong? Something on your mind?”

“Just haven’t shopped in a long time.”

“Ou Jinghe, which leg you step forward first, how many bowls of rice you can eat, what you think about when you lift your head—I know everything clearly. The last time you used my card like this was six years ago, right after we got married. Suddenly hearing you call me ‘husband,’ either you’re deliberately flattering or something’s on your mind.”

This conversation across the screen amounted to more words than their total communication over the past year—chilling. At this moment, she desperately wanted to open Day and Night to check the anonymous user chats, where not a single word of “love” was mentioned, yet every dialogue stirred her emotions. In a fit of emotion, she uninstalled the app, hoping the data would remain after reinstalling. When she finally searched for “Day and Night” in the App Store, the app was nowhere to be found. No typos, no network issues, nothing wrong with her phone—it simply vanished from the search bar.

Anxiously, she messaged Jian Zhaowen: “Why can’t I download Day and Night anymore?”

“It was reported.”

“And the data? Is it still there?”

Jian Zhaowen didn’t reply. Waves of regret washed over Ou Jinghe as she paced anxiously in the shop, her face feeling itchy—tears rolled down uncontrollably. Why did she uninstall the app? Had she gone mad?

Gao Yuan’s message came again: “Today, I’m having dinner with some people from the bureau, including their spouses. Their wives will also be there, remember to dress appropriately. I’ll send you the address.”

The dinner was held in a small mansion below Yan’an West Road, private and quiet. There was a screen inside the private room, adorned with exquisite carvings. Ou Jinghe wore a nude-colored dress and, upon sitting down, saw the woman opposite her—square-faced, with slight wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, wearing low-key yet expensive emerald earrings, neither humble nor arrogant. Leaning back against the chair, looking across, the bottle of Guojiao 1573 blocked her husband, and Ou Jinghe placed the wine bottle in front of her, quietly observing the woman. The men weren’t in a hurry to discuss business, instead leisurely chatting about education in Shanghai, the difficulties of schooling, school selection, and the challenges faced by parents. The pride in the lady’s voice when talking about her son made Ou Jinghe envious. Trying to probe further, the previously aloof lady suddenly opened up—her son had entered one of the top four prestigious schools, and she was meticulously planning which country to choose for his future studies abroad. Gao Yuan was extremely satisfied.

As the women became familiar, the drinking flowed more freely. Ou Jinghe seemed particularly compatible with the bureau chief’s wife, enjoying stories of her child’s growth—every minor selfish act during childhood and early teenage romance, she listened attentively. What was originally a table requiring topic initiation was now overshadowed by the wives’ lively conversation. Gao Yuan and the bureau chief drank continuously: “Look how much my wife wants a child. I’ve been too busy.”

“A man’s job is only a few minutes. You need to make time.”

“Business expansion requires connections. If the bureau chief is interested in my project this year, expedite the approval process, and I’ll have time to have children. For my wife’s sake, show some favor, alright?”

The aging men were spirited, and the women exchanged rare glances across the dining table. Though they talked about different topics, both parties seemed to achieve their purposes.

Only Ou Jinghe couldn’t find her direction.

“If you really like children, consider going to the U.S. by the end of the year. Finding a child similar to us isn’t difficult.” High Yuan spoke with a hint of alcohol as they climbed into the car.

“Choosing” sounded like picking cabbages at the market. Ou Jinghe pretended to sleep, not wanting to respond.

“Rare to have just the two of us in the car, let’s talk sincerely. Ou Jinghe, do you know why I married you?”

“You also know my ex-wife wasn’t ordinary—the daughter of a listed company CEO, holding substantial resources, providing real help. Later, I realized even as a man, I wasn’t equal to her. Both families brought assets together, preserving themselves while fighting for two years, until she poached all my clients. Finding an ordinary woman to bear children obediently isn’t hard, and I can turn a blind eye. But adult relationships are built on thin soil, especially with me not home often—women see my money, and I see their youth and shallowness. But you’re different. Whenever I think of you, I recall the hormonal surges of my early teens. Remembering carrying a bicycle on the ferry just to watch you perform a play.”

“You’ve said this many times. No need to repeat it.”

“You still haven’t learned how to be a wealthy man’s wife, obedient and self-aware. You haven’t achieved that till now.”

Ou Jinghe suddenly laughed: “What kind of ‘wealthy man’ are you?”

Gao Yuan wasn’t angry, pleased with the approval progress: “Jinghe, I must remind you once more—not to always dream of true love. At our age, we don’t have the luxury to say that. I can meet many young girls with round faces like balloons, scheming to get something from me—how much they can get sleeping with me, how much they can gain bearing my child. They think using me is no different from marrying a young boy, raising a child then serving a man until old age. Love leading to marriage is a deception. Like before marrying me, you had a boyfriend from another city for a Shanghai hukou. Your parents thought he was after your family’s demolition compensation, and knowing you live in a lane without money, he calculated daily trivialities before marriage, finding fault with you. Dare you say marrying me wasn’t for money? But don’t blame everyone for impure motives. Under economic pressure, no one’s intentions are pure. Love is a means, not a person’s fault—it’s the harsh reality of young people in big cities.”

“People who don’t understand this principle live simpler lives—content with modest wealth, asking for little, living comfortably.”

“You’re ambitious; you can’t possibly not understand. Without me, life won’t be easy for you. And I love you—isn’t that enough?”

“This isn’t love; it’s control. Five years putting me in a vase without watering it. If you truly loved me, don’t wait until the edge of the cliff to try salvaging.”

“Breaking apart is your nature. It doesn’t matter. Even shattered, stay by my side. No one will love you more than I do.”

“Stop the car. I’ll go home myself.”

“This is the elevated road; you can’t hail a taxi. You’re drunk. I told you not to drink so much, but you wouldn’t listen.”

“Shut up!” Ou Jinghe hysterically pounded on the car door and window: “If you say one more word, I’ll jump out of the car. Do you believe me?”

Gao Yuan laughed, not stopping her, moving further away and telling the driver: “Drive steadily.”

When she returned home, the first thing she did was remove Zheng Zeyan from her blacklist and sent him a new message. Locking herself in the bedroom, the north room was the only one without Buddhist altars or feng shui crystals—after her mother-in-law left, she threw those items in the trash. Carefully washing away the alcohol smell, she collapsed into bed, waiting for Zheng Zeyan’s reply. Zheng Zeyan remained silent, as if the account hadn’t been logged in for a long time. She checked his social media and profile picture—nothing changed. Zheng Zeyan kept professional, sharing industry information and financial trends. Her message was urgent: “Why aren’t you speaking? Didn’t you say you love me?”

It was as if he had disappeared. Alcohol made Ou Jinghe dizzy and unable to sleep. She drank a bottle of baijiu, feeling seasick. Urgently, she messaged again: “I drank a bottle of Guojiao 1573, thinking only of you, but how dare I? If nothing else, let’s be ordinary friends. We don’t have to care about each other’s dirtiness, alright?”

It seemed like she was the only person left in the world. Dizzy and confused, Ou Jinghe opened her phone, missing the dark night mode of Day and Night, recalling Zheng Zeyan’s incessant messages on the platform. Snow-like visions blurred her sight, mist condensing into ice. She found a dark gray image, changing the chat background to mimic Day and Night’s style, and began singing to Zheng Zeyan’s WeChat—a song Zheng Zeyan mentioned on the platform, “PG Parental Guidance.”

“You must stay with me, you must stay with me, You must stay with me, I fear nightmares, Pressed by dreams, crying without sound, Seeing accidents about to happen. You must stay with me, you must stay with me, You must stay with me, I fear I’m sick, Looking at the thermometer needle burning so hot, Yet lacking your worry for me. Few people know, Many intend to turn lovers into close kin. ... Dangerous periods infinite, no one trusts, Pampered for life, I don’t distinguish weight, Just want to comfort you well.”

She sang intermittently, remembering lyrics and singing a few lines, then continuing... By the time the entire song was sung, the screen was filled with her voice messages. Unable to wait for a reply, the song ended, and in a daze, she fell asleep half-satisfied, half-disappointed. Waking up to see her absurd voice messages and hearing her unconscious voice, it was too late to retract. He hadn’t replied, seemingly deliberately ignoring her. Clear-headed, she rubbed her temples and sent a message: “I drank too much yesterday. Forget it.”

He almost instantly replied: “If you never intended to acknowledge it, you shouldn’t have sent it in the first place.”

So he had been hiding in the shadows, knowing everything. Overjoyed, Ou Jinghe asked: “Shall we meet?”

“Didn’t we agree not to see each other anymore? Don’t go back on your word, exposing your heart then withdrawing it. Is playing with me amusing?”