#57

Perhaps the window hadn’t been tightly closed, and the cold air from outside seeped through the gap, directly hitting her face and dispelling the warmth of the air conditioning.

Le Ya and Chen Yang locked eyes.

Xie Qingyu walked over from behind and said: “I think you two need to talk. I don’t know what happened, but avoiding it like this isn’t the solution.”

She had never liked avoidance, so she somewhat disapproved of Le Ya’s actions after learning about them.

Even if the outcome wasn’t good, clarifying things would be better.

Le Ya lowered her eyes. “I don’t know how to say it.”

She even wondered if Chen Yang had known about this all along—after all, his mother’s suicide was also related to Fang Yuan.

Put together, the two of them could be considered enemies without exaggeration. Although he wasn’t at fault, how could she face him?

Would she tell him that her mother had caused the death of his mother? Or question him about how her hearing had been affected because of his father?

It wasn’t right to shift blame onto him, but she couldn’t accept it all at once.

Ultimately, Le Ya couldn’t help but reflect on why she had let herself fall so easily. If she hadn’t fallen for him, none of this would have happened.

Xie Qingyu patted her head. “You can say anything. It’s so cold outside—do you really want him to wait out there all night?”

Le Ya didn’t respond.

She believed that with Chen Yang’s personality, he was fully capable of doing just that.

Le Ya turned back toward the window and slowly drew the curtains shut, finally nodding in silence.

Xie Qingyu said: “Then I’m leaving.”

Her task was complete.

The two of them went downstairs together.

There was a distance between the front door and the window to her room, and Le Ya still hadn’t mustered the courage to take the first step. Each time, memories of the scene she had seen a few days ago flooded her mind.

Xie Qingyu grew impatient watching them. “If you two keep dragging this out, by the time you start talking, it’ll be midnight. You’ll freeze to death!”

Le Ya was momentarily stunned by her words.

Xie Qingyu decisively took her hand and led her forward. “I’ll bring you over. Say whatever you need to say clearly—you won’t regret it later.”

Le Ya followed her.

By coincidence, Chen Yang was also walking toward them, and the three met face-to-face. Xie Qingyu stepped back and waved her hand. “I’m going back.”

She left without delay, disappearing in the blink of an eye.

Le Ya and Chen Yang stood facing each other. At such close proximity, even the slightest changes in each other’s expressions were clearly visible.

For the first time, Le Ya realized how sharp her vision was.

Chen Yang’s complexion wasn’t good. There was a faint bluish-black hue under his eyes, and his lips were pale, as if he were ill.

This was unlike him.

Le Ya couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt, wondering if it was her fault, followed by an overwhelming sense of confusion.

Chen Yang asked: “Are you coming over?”

After waiting a long while without a response, he walked over himself and pulled Le Ya into his arms, enveloping her in his dominating presence.

Le Ya buried her face in his clothes.

There was a faint smell of tobacco. He had claimed to quit not long ago, yet now the scent lingered again.

She sniffled softly.

Le Ya could feel that he had many questions, many things he wanted to say, but in the end, he didn’t utter a word.

The surroundings were silent, save for the occasional rustling of leaves stirred by the wind.

Before coming down, Le Ya had thrown on an oversized coat. Her hands were hidden inside the sleeves, hanging limply at her sides, unmoving.

After a long stretch of silence, she finally spoke: “Chen Yang.”

Her voice, muffled against his chest, was soft.

Chen Yang gently smoothed her back and hummed softly in acknowledgment.

His soothing touch was too intense. Le Ya choked up slightly and pushed him away, repeating: “Chen Yang, let me go.”

Chen Yang didn’t move.

The more she struggled, the tighter he held her. After several attempts, Le Ya stopped resisting and nestled into his embrace.

Once the silence settled, after a few seconds, Le Ya felt the physical restraint loosen. The scent of tobacco faded, and she was released.

Under Chen Yang’s gaze, she felt at a loss.

Le Ya softly said: “I have something to tell you.”

Chen Yang took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to interrogate her, and asked in a low voice: “If I hadn’t come, would you still have something to say?”

Le Ya panicked, unsure how to respond.

She hadn’t even figured out how to face Chen Yang, let alone imagined it would turn out like this. Everything had unraveled far too smoothly.

If she hadn’t seen that scene that day, everything might still be fine now.

Chen Yang reached out and touched her chin, cupping her face with both hands and gently forcing her to look up and meet his gaze.

He didn’t use much force.

Chen Yang leaned down, bringing his face closer to hers, sighed, and softly asked: “Why didn’t you just ask me directly?”

This gentleness was completely different from before, instantly overwhelming her heart and making it hard to breathe.

Le Ya closed her eyes briefly. “How could I ask you?”

Fang Yuan’s words that day had deeply affected her. And then there was the attempt to exploit family ties to get out of the hospital, only to confuse her birthday with his. Each revelation cut into her like a knife, slowly torturing her.

Le Ya couldn’t accept it all at once.

She had thought about Fang Yuan forgetting her birthday but had never imagined the forgotten birthday belonged to Chen Yang.

Such a cruel twist of fate was impossible to forget.

Le Ya’s voice was hoarse. After saying those words, she couldn’t help but choke up, her nose stinging, tears spilling down and burning hot against his fingers.

Chen Yang was immediately thrown into a panic.

He used his fingertips to wipe away her tears, but they kept flowing like broken beads, increasing in number.

Le Ya clutched his clothes, trying to suppress her sobs. “How could I ask you… Ask you what your relationship with her is… Ask if your mother’s accident was because of my mother?”

Could she really bring herself to say those words?

Le Ya’s eyelashes were wet, trembling constantly. “I should’ve known earlier… Why did he push me… If only…”

If only she had learned the truth back then, it wouldn’t have turned out like this.

Her words were disjointed, illogical, one sentence after another not connecting. Yet, Chen Yang understood every single one, his heart aching sharply.

It was he who had kept hiding the truth from her.

Le Ya felt as though her entire body had gone cold. That night, she didn’t know how she had gotten home. She wandered aimlessly, nearly getting hit by a car if not for a little boy who pulled her back at the last moment.

These past few days, she had been suffocating, with no appetite at all. When she saw Chen Yang’s call, she didn’t know what to do.

That night, she lay in bed, almost unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, scenes from the past and present alternated repeatedly.

Le Ya still remembered her grandmother’s house vividly.

Chen Yang’s voice was rough as he whispered: “Can you stop crying, please?”

His tenderness, pushed to the extreme, became a plea.

Le Ya paused, reaching up to wipe her face. She hiccupped occasionally and finally asked in a low voice: “Did you always know?”

After a long pause, Chen Yang responded with a sound of affirmation.

He knew. He had always known—from back then.

Every time his mother and Chen Mingwu fought, the same points came up repeatedly, never straying far from the topic of his father’s first love.

At first, Chen Yang only knew that Chen Mingwu had rekindled his romance with his first love—he had no idea who the person was.

It wasn’t until he saw Chen Mingwu with Fang Yuan outside that he first laid eyes on the legendary first love.

Later, after his mother’s suicide, he discovered a locked cabinet in Chen Mingwu’s room. He broke it open and found a photo album and a diary inside. The photo album contained pictures of Chen Mingwu and Fang Yuan together.

The diary recorded events spanning from their school days to their breakup, and then resumed entries after their renewed relationship.

Chen Yang burned everything in the cabinet at home.

As expected, he was beaten by Chen Mingwu.

If the neighbors hadn’t heard the commotion and rushed in to save him, he might have been beaten to death.

Later, when Chen Mingwu became disabled due to an incident, Chen Yang always blamed Le Yijian for it, mocking him for being incompetent.

Not long after, Chen Yang was sent to an orphanage.

A child with both parents was placed in an orphanage.

Chen Yang still remembered the questions those children in the orphanage had asked him, and how he had responded. How did he answer? Something along the lines of “they’re all dead.”

In a way, it wasn’t far from the truth.

Le Ya murmured: “I didn’t know anything.”

Like a fool.

Chen Yang pressed his lips together. “Because I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Le Ya looked up at him. “I had the right to know. You’ve always known everything, yet you never thought to tell me.”

Chen Yang froze. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Le Ya shook her head. “It’s not your fault. It’s because I’ve been living too naively.”

Naively thinking she could escape the past.

Le Ya kept shaking her head. “None of this has anything to do with you. It’s their problem, not yours. It’s unrelated to you.”

But she couldn’t get past it.

She remembered how Chen Yang had once told her about how his mother died. Now, reflecting on it, she wondered if he had been deeply pained inside—after all, she was the daughter of his enemy.

Chen Yang immediately sensed something was wrong.

He placed his hand on her neck, but the girl in front of him no longer shyly dodged or teased him by calling him crazy like she used to.

Chen Yang closed his eyes. “Can we forget about them?”

Le Ya’s body stiffened. “Can we really forget?”

Chen Yang understood her thoughts but couldn’t accept them. If she retreated back into her shell, what would he become?

Both of them suddenly fell silent.

Just then, the sound of a car returning echoed in the distance.

Le Ya was all too familiar with that engine noise. There was only one possibility now: Le Yijian had returned from work.

If he saw Chen Yang, she feared he might act violently.

Panicking, Le Ya grabbed his hand and quickly pulled him toward the back of the house.

After being outside for so long, Chen Yang’s hands were icy cold. The moment she grasped them, she instinctively wanted to let go, nearly flinging his hand away.

Biting her lip, Le Ya dragged him behind the house.

Chen Yang allowed her to move him without resistance.

Once they were away from the original spot, he finally spoke: “You still care about me, Le Ya. Admit it.”

Le Ya clenched her hands inside her sleeves. “Chen Yang, you should go back. Do you know about my ears? I need to get treatment for them, or I’ll remain disabled forever.”

Chen Yang said: “You’re not disabled.”

“I hope not,” Le Ya suddenly calmed down. “This is a good time for both of us to take a break and think things over.”

Chen Yang stared at her. “I don’t need time to think.”

Le Ya was left speechless by his response, finally managing to squeeze out: “Stop being unreasonable.”

Chen Yang lightly touched the tip of her nose. “I’m not.”

Le Ya abruptly changed the subject: “I need to go back.”

“Alright, I’ll leave.” Chen Yang took a few steps back, his gaze fixed on her, before turning around and striding away.

Without hesitation.

Le Ya covered her mouth with her hand, sinking to the ground and burying her face in her knees as tears streamed down.

From small sobs to loud wails, all her pent-up grievances seemed to pour out. She didn’t even know why.

Until a shadow fell over her.

Le Ya slowly raised her head and saw Chen Yang return, standing before her once more, his expression calm.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

Suddenly, Le Ya stood up and hugged him tightly. “You have to take care of yourself. I never admitted it before, but now, let’s pretend none of this ever happened.”

At that moment, Chen Yang stiffened.

Le Ya released him and continued on her own: “I’ll be leaving soon. After this, stop smoking—it’s bad for your health. You’re still a student.”

Chen Yang stared at her, his eyes dark and unreadable.

Le Ya forced a smile, her eyes no longer curving into crescent moons like before. Lowering her voice, she said: “Goodbye.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, Chen Yang let out a soft laugh.

His brows furrowed slightly, his usual refined features now tinged with suppressed madness. The cold wind blew directly into his collar, chilling his entire body.

Le Ya glanced at him, sniffling softly.

Seeing her pitiful appearance, Chen Yang suddenly lost his temper again, gritting his teeth and forcing out a single word: “Goodbye?”

She had barged into his life. After working so hard for so long, he had finally thought he had carved out a place for himself. But now, everything had turned into this.

Chen Yang felt an urge to laugh bitterly.

He didn’t want to dwell on his parents’ affairs, nor did he want their issues to interfere with his life. To him, they were outsiders.

Chen Yang curled his lips in mockery. “Are you hugging me and saying goodbye at the same time?”

Le Ya stiffened, awkwardly responding: “A farewell hug.”

She hadn’t thought about her actions just now—she simply wanted to hug him, so she did.

Chen Yang asked: “Then why were you crying earlier?”

Le Ya stammered: “…I was sad.”

Now, it seemed that compared to separation, those other matters didn’t seem significant. But continuing like this, she couldn’t help but keep recalling everything.

Perhaps during her treatment, she would sort out the relationship between the two of them—but that would take time.

Her blatant lie made Chen Yang chuckle bitterly. In the end, he merely lowered his gaze to look at her. “Le Ya.”

Suddenly, he reached up and unclasped the silver chain around his neck. A small crescent moon pendant lay in his palm, reflecting brightly under the streetlight.

“This is what you gave me. You were the one who approached me first. Do you know why your father sponsored the son of the woman his wife cheated with?”

“Because it was your choice.”

“He loves you, so it was your choice—and he didn’t care.”

His tone was calm, but Le Ya was utterly shocked.

She had no memory of this at all. She didn’t remember giving him the necklace, and prior to this, she had only suspected he might have bought the same one.

Le Ya opened her mouth but ultimately said: “Chen Yang.”

Chen Yang knew she didn’t remember.

It made sense—how could she remember something from so long ago? If she had truly recognized him, she wouldn’t have chosen him. She probably would have shown disgust the first time they met.

It was his wishful thinking that she liked him.

He still vividly remembered that distant past when he had spent some time in the orphanage. The director had announced that a wealthy family was coming to adopt a child.

Almost every child in the orphanage went, hoping to start a better life.

He stayed at the back, silently watching the two people who stepped out of the car—the ones he had seen before. The little princess wore a hat, covering her ears.

She pointed at him.

From that moment on, she chose only him.

Le Ya didn’t remember any of this. She had even forgotten that she was the one who made the choice.

She picked up the necklace from his palm—the one she had worn for so long, yet it had remained with another boy for ten years.

Le Ya didn’t know whether this was fate or something else. Biting her lip, she tiptoed and carefully placed it back around his neck. “I’ll be leaving next week.”

The young girl leaned in, her hair brushing against his cheek, tickling slightly.

Chen Yang asked: “How long will it take?”

Le Ya’s hair fluttered in the wind as she sighed, exhausted: “I don’t know. Do you know? I don’t know how long it will take.”

Chen Yang said indifferently: “Surely not a lifetime.”

Le Ya was momentarily stunned by his words.

She truly didn’t know how long the treatment would take, but at the very least, it would require six months of recovery. University life would be vibrant, and he would meet prettier girls.

Le Ya didn’t know what promises made now would mean by then.

Even if she managed to forget the past by the time she returned, and even if Chen Yang said he could wait, could he really wait that long?

Le Ya rested her head on his shoulder.

Chen Yang blinked, his warm breath brushing against the nape of her neck. The sweet scent of the girl constantly reminded him of her presence.

It took Le Ya a long time to find the right words.

Her hands rested on his shoulders as she softened her voice: “Chen Yang, after I leave, please stop smoking. The smell is terrible.”

After speaking, Le Ya tried to pull away.

Chen Yang reflexively tightened his grip on her wrist, refusing to let her leave. In the icy cold, he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her forehead.

He muttered to himself, almost as if speaking to the wind: “I’ve already waited ten years.”

He had originally planned to continue waiting like this. Who would have thought that the renovation of First High School would bring her straight to him? Now that she was here, he intended to lock her down completely.

What was a little more time? He believed she would eventually come to her senses.

Chen Yang gently stroked her hair, sighed inwardly, and then turned to leave.

It wasn’t until his figure disappeared into the distance, his shadow lengthening and shortening under the streetlights, that Le Ya finally realized the meaning behind his earlier words.

She bent over and called out loudly: “Chen Yang!”

It was the loudest she had ever yelled in her life—more forceful than any argument she’d ever had. Her face flushed red with effort.

Hearing her voice, Chen Yang turned around.

Before he could react, the girl in the distance came running toward him, throwing herself into his arms. The impact caused him to stumble back a step.

A muffled voice came from within his embrace: “I wanted to say goodbye one more time.”

Chen Yang understood the underlying meaning. He reached out and gently pinched her ear. “You can’t get rid of me. I’ll allow you to leave for a while.”

“But don’t even think about anything else.”