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The small crescent moon pendant that had fallen was not very large—about the size of a fingernail. If one didn’t look closely, it would be easy to miss.

Le Ya felt a sense of familiarity, but when she tried to think about why, she couldn’t recall.

She vaguely remembered having a similar necklace once.

But that was from a very long time ago, and she had forgotten where it went after that. Hence, though it felt familiar, she couldn’t pinpoint why.

As she watched Chen Yang reattach the pendant, she couldn’t help but voice her thoughts: “I feel like I’ve seen this somewhere before.”

Chen Yang paused his movements and looked up at her.

Le Ya pointed at the small crescent moon. “I think I used to have one like this, but I think I lost mine.”

Chen Yang withdrew his hand. “Are you trying to hit on me?”

Le Ya didn’t understand what he meant. “What do you mean, hit on you?”

Chen Yang stood on the higher step of the staircase and tilted his head. “It sounds like those typical pick-up lines… ‘You look like someone I know,’ or ‘I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.’”

His meaning was quite clear.

Le Ya said, “I’m not hitting on you. You’re so full of yourself.”

Chen Yang stuck his hands in his pockets. “Just average, nothing special.”

Le Ya: “… “

She finally understood why he acted the way he did.

After their lengthy exchange, the Halloween players standing nearby hadn’t been able to interject and were left holding their props awkwardly in the corner.

Seeing that the conversation had finally stopped, the ghostly figure who had startled them earlier hurried forward and apologized, “Sorry for scaring you just now.”

Le Ya turned around and saw his smile.

To be honest, it was still a bit creepy, but much less frightening than when they first appeared. Her mind simply hadn’t fully processed it yet.

She spoke softly. “It’s okay.”

The ghostly figure had never seen such a delicate and fair-skinned girl before. Her eyes sparkled, and he pulled out a handful of candy from his pocket, offering it to her.

Le Ya was puzzled. “Is this for me?”

The ghostly figure blushed slightly and whispered, “Happy Halloween. Sorry for scaring you earlier.”

Le Ya hadn’t expected him to be so kind.

Just as she was about to reach out, Chen Yang stepped between her and the ghostly figure, his tone cold. “It’s already 8 o’clock.”

8 o’clock?!

Le Ya’s attention was immediately drawn away by this reminder, and she forgot all about the candy. “Sorry, I have something to do. I’ll leave first.”

She chased after Chen Yang, jogging away from the stairwell.

The stairwell fell silent once again. A mummy emerged from behind the ghost, snatched the candy from his hand, peeled it open, and popped it into his mouth.

The mummy glanced at him. “You gave something to her right in front of her boyfriend? Aren’t you afraid of getting killed?”

The ghost replied, “She’s so cute.”

The mummy retorted, “Being cute doesn’t excuse that. Didn’t you see how intimate they were earlier?”

At first glance, it seemed like they were about to kiss. Even if they weren’t officially dating, there was clearly some underlying tension between them.

By 8 PM, the area outside the mall was still bustling with people.

Le Ya cautiously checked that her father’s car wasn’t parked near the entrance before letting out a sigh of relief. Earlier, when Le Yi Jian had given her false information, she knew her dad didn’t want her interacting with Chen Yang.

But now, she and Chen Yang had known each other for several days, and she had even attended his birthday party.

Chen Yang, hands in his pockets, followed her leisurely from behind.

There were a few steps of distance between them.

When her phone rang, Le Ya quickly answered. “I’m almost at the mall. Hurry out; I’ll be there soon.”

Le Ya responded, “Coming, coming.”

After hanging up, she turned around, hesitated for a moment, then walked back to where Chen Yang stood. “Happy birthday.”

She added, “Even though it’s late, I still wanted to say it. I’ll bring your birthday gift on Monday.”

She figured it was better to give something after all.

If she hadn’t come today, she probably wouldn’t have needed to give anything. But since she had come—and he had even walked her out—it felt wrong not to give something.

Chen Yang nodded indifferently. “Up to you.”

In the distance, the sound of a car horn made Le Ya tense up. She quickly said, “I need to go now. Goodbye.”

Afraid of being seen, she hurried across the street.

Once she reached the other side, Chen Yang stood under the lamppost, his eyes narrowing slightly as he watched Le Ya’s figure jog toward a car.

It was a car he had seen a long time ago.

Chen Yang straightened his back, closed his eyes briefly, then turned around, facing away from the road.

She seemed to be afraid of something too.

Was she afraid of being discovered with him?

Chen Yang let out a mocking chuckle. His phone suddenly vibrated, and he opened it to find a message from Liang Qian: “Yang-ge, aren’t you coming back yet?”

He casually typed a reply.

“Why did you suddenly decide to go shopping tonight?” Le Yi Jian started driving. “Didn’t you buy anything?”

Le Ya replied, “Mm, I looked around but didn’t see anything I liked.”

Le Yi Jian continued, “Next time we’ll go somewhere bigger. This place is too small. There’s a new square that just opened nearby…”

Listening to him talk, Le Ya couldn’t resist pressing the car window button and secretly glancing across the street at Chen Yang.

Chen Yang happened to be standing next to a lamppost and a tree. From this angle, it was hard to tell who it was, but she knew.

Once they drove far enough, she could no longer see him.

After replying to Liang Qian, Chen Yang lit a cigarette and then returned to the private room.

The room was still lively, and they had switched to playing “Truth or Dare,” thoroughly enjoying themselves.

When he entered, both Liang Qian and Zhao Mingri looked up and invited him. “Come join us, it’s a new game, Yang-ge.”

Chen Yang slouched back onto the sofa, leaning casually against one side. The dim lighting cast a cold yet alluring glow across his face.

He said indifferently, “You guys play on your own.”

Liang Qian thought for a moment and brought over a glass of beer.

This was specially requested from the boss since minors weren’t served here. If not for their good relationship, they wouldn’t have gotten it.

Liang Qian remarked, “We should have let Le Ya play before she left.”

Such a rare opportunity had slipped away because of that untimely phone call. Who knew who had called?

Chen Yang took a sip of the beer and didn’t say anything.

The once-cool pendant had warmed in his hand. He remembered Le Ya’s puzzled look when she saw it earlier.

She truly didn’t remember.

Chen Yang took it off and started fiddling with it, wrapping it around his fingers. He stared at the small crescent moon, noticing traces of someone else’s touch.

For some reason, Liang Qian found this scene oddly… intimate.

Deep down, Le Ya didn’t want to come to her grandmother’s house.

When she entered, the laughter in the living room stopped, and Fang Cuiyu’s smile disappeared immediately.

Le Ya had anticipated this reaction.

Fortunately, she planned to stay silent, letting Le Yi Jian present the gift he had picked out in her name.

Many relatives were there today. Le Ya glanced around—several aunts and uncles had come, along with some cousins who were still in school.

But she wasn’t close to any of them. She hadn’t exchanged more than a few greetings with them over the years, making them practically strangers.

Her second aunt broke the silence. “Yi Jian, sit down quickly.”

Le Yi Jian glanced at everyone present and replied, “I won’t sit. I still have work to handle, so I can only stay for a short while. Happy birthday, Mom.”

Second Aunt commented, “In such a hurry?”

At this, the birthday celebrant—Fang Cuiyu—spoke with a stern face: “If that’s the case, leave. Next time, don’t bother coming either. Just stop wasting money.”

Once she spoke, no one in the family dared to say anything.

Le Ya stood beside Le Yi Jian. They hadn’t even changed their shoes when they came in.

She couldn’t understand why they treated them like this.

The last time she visited was years ago, back in elementary school. In the living room, none of the other children talked to her; they all played among themselves.

One child—a cousin she couldn’t remember—wanted something she was holding. He cried and threw tantrums, even trying to snatch it from her. At the time, Le Yi Jian was outside taking a call.

Being just a child herself, Fang Cuiyu forced her to give the item to her cousin, ignoring her protests. Le Ya vividly remembered being scolded as a “jinx” by her grandmother.

Though young, Le Ya understood the insult wasn’t positive and ended up crying in fear.

Eventually, Le Yi Jian heard the commotion and stormed in, yelling before picking her up and taking her home.

Yet, Fang Cuiyu continued to grumble behind their backs.

Since then, Le Ya had resisted coming here. For several consecutive years, Le Yi Jian visited alone, and she had no idea what happened during those visits.

Even now, without that troublesome cousin present, their attitudes remained unchanged—disgust was almost palpable on their faces.

Le Ya kept her head down, staring at her toes while listening to their conversations.

As the laughter in the living room gradually faded, Fang Cuiyu turned to Le Yi Jian, her face tight, and asked, “When are you bringing Ah Yuan back?”

Ah Yuan—Fang Yuan—was Le Ya’s biological mother.

The room fell silent. The other sons and daughters knew this was the main topic of the night and dared not interrupt.

Hearing this, Le Yi Jian’s expression grew fainter. “I didn’t expect her to tell you. For now, we aren’t planning to bring her back—”

Before he could finish, Fang Cuiyu cut him off sharply. “She’s your wife! You locked her away for so many years. Do you feel nothing? My daughter hasn’t lived a proper life for years! And she can’t even celebrate my birthday in person!”

Her voice rose, becoming shrill.

Le Ya flinched instinctively, pinching her ears. Her hearing aid worked fine, so she heard every word clearly.

The atmosphere grew tense. Second Aunt tried to ease the tension. “Mom, don’t get angry. Speak slowly. Brother-in-law isn’t unreasonable; surely, things will work out.”

“If he weren’t unreasonable, he wouldn’t have sent my daughter to a mental hospital for over a decade.”

“This isn’t without cause...”

Le Ya took a deep breath and looked up at the furious old woman in the main seat. When their eyes met, Fang Cuiyu’s face twisted in disdain, and she quickly looked away.

Le Ya glanced at Le Yi Jian, her hands unconsciously tightening.

It always went like this.

Anger surged through Le Ya’s chest, nearly uncontrollable. She looked back at the main seat and blurted out softly but firmly, “Why should she be brought back?”

Her voice was gentle but carried weight.

Everyone involuntarily turned to look. Under the warm light, the delicate features of the young girl revealed an unexpected determination.

Le Yi Jian spoke sternly. “Le Ya.”

At this, everyone snapped back to attention. Second Aunt, stunned for a long moment, finally exclaimed, “Le Ya, what are you saying?”

Le Ya’s palms were aching from gripping them so tightly, but she refused to back down. She hated being subjected to accusatory stares year after year, as if she were the one at fault.

Summoning a meek smile, her trembling voice responded, “I’m speaking the truth. Not long ago, I hung up on her call myself. I told Dad not to bring her back.”

The relatives’ expressions shifted dramatically. Second Aunt, closest to Fang Cuiyu, seeing her anger reach its peak, hurriedly patted her back.

Instantly, the living room erupted into chaos again.

Fang Cuiyu scolded, “Do you have no respect for your elders? How dare you speak like that to me? I’m talking to your father—don’t interrupt.”

Le Yi Jian frowned, about to speak, but Le Ya pressed her hand against his.

Her hand rested on top of his, shaking her head at him. “I’ve wanted to say this for a long time. After enduring blame for so many years, yes, you’re my grandmother, but that doesn’t justify you and Dad berating us endlessly.”

Second Aunt interjected, “Le Ya, don’t say—”

The more Le Ya spoke, the more委屈 welled up inside her, flooding her heart. In an instant, she blurted out without thinking, “You all think it’s my fault. What did I do wrong?”

Her tone grew increasingly resolute.

Even Le Yi Jian, who had never seen his usually gentle daughter act this way, noticed her newfound courage. He could feel her hand trembling.

She was afraid.

Fang Cuiyu sneered. “So many years have passed, and you’re fine now. But your mother is still suffering. Can’t you be magnanimous and forgive her?”

She spoke as if it were the most natural thing, showing no remorse.

Le Ya’s usually crescent-shaped eyes now brimmed with resolve. Meeting their accusing gazes, she suddenly felt calm.

At least during birthday gatherings, people like Liang Qian and Zhao Mingri, whom she barely knew, had respected her wishes. Chen Yang had even peeled an orange for her.

And here were her blood relatives, who had never shown such consideration.

With lowered eyes, Le Ya said, “How can I forgive someone who got my birthday wrong and thought it was this month?”

She vividly remembered the situation—the voice on the phone claiming her birthday would grant release, ultimately proving laughable.

What kind of mother would behave like that?

Second Aunt, feeling a headache coming on, pleaded, “Let’s not talk about this anymore. It’s a happy day today. Mom, please…”

Though appeased, Fang Cuiyu’s anger lingered. Her breathing grew rapid, and she pointed at Le Ya, shouting, “Because she’s your mother!”

“Yes, she’s my mother,” Le Ya replied coolly, her eyes revealing a hint of detachment. “And then what?”

The living room fell silent once again, filled only with the sound of uneven breaths.

“In the end, I became deaf.”