Eleven Years Ago

After saying goodbye to the old man, Lin Sangyu wandered into a park.

She sat down on a park bench, letting her thoughts drift, her head resting against the back of the seat. Gazing upward, all she could see were layers upon layers of green; under the scorching sun, the leaves had been hosed down by the gardeners until they looked almost translucent with vitality. Between the gaps in the foliage, the gold of sunlight pressed in.

She raised her hand, fingers together, and held it before her eyes. When she spread them apart again, the gold of the sun had grown more abundant, stealing away the green of the leaves. The leaves turned sallow, and a muted brown quietly made its entrance.

Ah, so autumn had arrived.

It was autumn eleven years ago.

A chubby boy grabbed Lin Sangyu by the ear, his face twisted with malice, and yanked her up from the bed without an ounce of gentleness. "Lin Sangyu, why are you still napping?! It's our turn to clean. Get up now."

Her sensitive ear was torn without warning, her whole body half-lifted into the air. The sting shot straight through her skull. Lin Sangyu swallowed the urge to scream, glancing at the clock on the wall—2:10 PM. They still had twenty minutes before cleaning duty started.

Enduring the pain, she didn't even dare rub her ear. Instead, she forced a smile and, using the gentle tone she'd practiced for so long, said, "I'm sorry, Brother Tiantian, I didn't mean to. I'll go with you now, okay?"

"Hmph, cut the tricks. Let's go." The chubby boy grabbed his tools and stalked off ahead without looking back.

Lin Sangyu quickly threw on her thin jacket, braving the first sharp wind of autumn, and dragged a broom as tall as she was, stumbling after the boy.

The boy ordered, "You clean here, I'll clean over there. You better hurry up—I don't want to miss a meal because of you."

"Okay, Brother Tiantian," Lin Sangyu said in her soft, sweet voice, gazing up at him with adoring eyes. "Brother Tiantian, you're so amazing. I'm so lucky to be in the same group as you."

The unguarded, burning gaze made the boy's face flush. "What's so amazing?"

"Just that Brother Tiantian is the most amazing! You're my favorite person in the whole orphanage."

The boy's eyes darted away, flustered by the compliment, and Lin Sangyu caught every bit of it. She pressed on:

"So, Brother Tiantian, can you not leave me? I want to sweep with you. I really like being by your side."

The twelve-or-thirteen-year-old girl was just blooming into adolescence, already carrying the fresh, clear foundation of young beauty. Her eyes, fixed on the chubby boy, were full of tenderness.

The boy's face grew even hotter. "Fine, fine. We'll sweep together."

"Great. And if I'm slow, I'll just have to ask Brother Tiantian to help me a little more." Lin Sangyu blinked.

"No problem, leave it to me. You can even go rest if you want."

"That's okay, I'll sweep with Brother Tiantian!"

---

The world was dim and hazy, clouds holding back rain that refused to fall. Dust kicked up by the brooms hung suspended in the air, drifting down, then rising again, drifting down once more.

The excess dust was inhaled into her airways, turning into a nauseating, gritty sensation that stuck to her throat—impossible to swallow, impossible to cough out.

The big chunk of meat before her twisted and writhed with every rough motion, its greasy surface trembling and rolling, slick with sticky sweat.

Ugh—

Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting, disgusting...

"Am I handsome?" The chubby boy suddenly turned around, asking with pride.

Her expression snapped back into place, and Lin Sangyu smiled again. "So handsome. I like Brother Tiantian the most."

Children who'd grown up in an orphanage, kids who'd scrabbled through the lowest rungs of survival, who had to scheme for every single bite to eat—

They were the best in the world at reading micro-expressions and divining what others were thinking.

—That was their law of survival.

Years ago, Lin Sangyu had hidden in that villa as an outsider, as a spectator.

Back then, she'd seen that Jiang Wenzhe was closed off, lonely, and cold.

But at the same time, his coldness was not cruelty.

Indifference was not the opposite of love. Every cold wall built against the outside world was, at its core, a shield erected by someone who craved love but feared disappointment.

Jiang Wenzhe embodied that truth perfectly.

A person who had never been loved would cling to anyone who offered even a glimmer of affection.

So Lin Sangyu had pulled out the same playbook she'd learned in the orphanage, adopting a low posture, and the person she focused on with total devotion had naturally shifted from the chubby boy to Jiang Wenzhe.

She wanted Jiang Wenzhe to cherish her, to love her.

But times were different, and the place was different. The capital was not an orphanage, and Jiang Wenzhe was not that chubby boy.

When calculation gets mixed with love, the tamer undergoes their own transformation in the process of taming.

She'd forgotten that Jiang Wenzhe was someone who had never been loved—and so was she. That was why she'd made the wrong move, and lost everything.

Lin Sangyu realized that both she and Jiang Wenzhe were sick. Very sick. And the root cause was, without question, each other.

They were like a banyan tree and a strangler fig, two lives fused into one. Without permission, she had let her seed fall into the cracks of Jiang Wenzhe's love. Her aerial roots had slithered down his trunk, wrapping around it tighter year after year, squeezing the mother tree, until finally their branches were completely entwined—one prospered, one withered, together.

But that wasn't right.

Lin Sangyu was afraid. All her fear of separation, like the vines she'd arrogantly extended, had ended up strangling her instead.

How could she have shamelessly made Jiang Wenzhe completely dependent on her?

When one person is entirely dependent on another, they lose the boundaries of themselves. If the relationship ever wavers, they'll collapse—psychologically, emotionally, behaviorally, and physically, damaging everything.

Like a fresh scab clinging stubbornly to new flesh, ripping it off tears away the tender skin beneath, leaving raw, bleeding pain on both sides.

This warped affection was a complete mistake, from start to finish.

She wanted to be with Jiang Wenzhe—but not in this twisted form.

So they both needed to be healed.

---

She stood up and continued wandering aimlessly, exiting the park. The colorful neon signs of street-side restaurants flickered against the starry night, and the air was thick with mouth-watering aromas of food.

Lin Sangyu played eeny-meeny-miny-moe and ended up walking into a small stir-fry joint.

The server, a young man, greeted her warmly. "Hello, just one?"

"Two. He'll be here in a bit," Lin Sangyu replied.

Following the server's lead, she sat down by the window.

While waiting for the food, Lin Sangyu unhurriedly pulled out her phone.

Twelve missed calls.

Eleven WeChat messages.

All from the same person: Jiang Wenzhe.

Just as expected. Lin Sangyu raised an eyebrow and slowly typed out:

[Jiang Wenzhe, I'm out having fun. Sorry, I didn't check my phone.]

[Location.]

[I'm eating now. Do you want to come?]

After sending the messages with an air of studied nonchalance, she set down her phone and, with keen interest, brewed herself a pot of tea in anticipation of the storm to come.

The boiling water gave off a wispy white steam that blurred her vision.

Lin Sangyu pursed her lips and blew a big breath. The steam scattered, revealing a face.

Jiang Wenzhe stood a foot away, eyes bloodshot, strands of hair unusually disheveled across his forehead. Every muscle in his handsome face was pulled taut, as if he were desperately holding something back.

The moment their eyes met, the ice shattered, and the aggression drained away completely.

Jiang Wenzhe lowered his brow, restraining himself with visible effort, and said in a level voice, "Playing hide-and-seek with me?"

"Hmm? No, I just came out for fun," Lin Sangyu said, all innocence, pointing at the stool beside her. "How did you get here so fast? I only just sent you the message. Come on, sit. The food's almost up—let's eat together."

Jiang Wenzhe sat down beside her, and Lin Sangyu felt his body give an involuntary tremor the instant their clothes brushed.

"Why did you sneak over the wall to play by yourself?" Jiang Wenzhe asked in a calm tone, like two friends having an ordinary chat. "Next time, bring your bodyguards. It's not safe alone."

"I just wanted to go out by myself. Having bodyguards around makes me feel uncomfortable." Lin Sangyu licked her lips.

"Is that so? Then why didn't you tell me?"

As he asked, Jiang Wenzhe's eyes swept over her, unreadable.

Lin Sangyu played the sweetheart. "You were at work. I didn't want to bother you. I was going to tell you later, but I forgot. I'm sorry, okay?"

"Do you know I've been worried about you all day?"

"Huh? Were you looking for me the whole time?"

His stiff muscles worked to hold a superficially kind expression. Jiang Wenzhe took Lin Sangyu's hand and stroked her palm very gently, his smile deepening. "What do you think?"

"So you were looking for me, then."

Lin Sangyu pulled her hand free and instead placed it lightly on his shoulder.

"Jiang Wenzhe, did you notice?"

"Notice what?"

Her bright, clear eyes shimmered with faint light as she spoke slowly and deliberately, "Did you notice that you're trembling, Jiang Wenzhe?"

Jiang Wenzhe froze for a moment, then followed her arm down to the hand resting on his shoulder. Small and delicate, nails neatly trimmed, skin pale and soft with a faint pink glow.

Why did her nails grow so slowly?

He wanted to hold Lin Sangyu's hand and trim her nails for her.

Watching his intense, burning gaze, Lin Sangyu felt a surge of triumph. "Can you feel it?"

Jiang Wenzhe snapped back to attention, reluctantly pulling his eyes away. Trembling? He hadn't even noticed. He answered absently, "Mm, I feel it. I'm trembling."

Lin Sangyu said, her tone earnest, "So you're sick, Jiang Wenzhe."

His dark pupils shifted slightly. "What do you mean? Aren't I already getting treatment?"

"Are you sure?" Lin Sangyu swiped open her phone and shoved the screenshots of his WeChat step counts from two different time periods right in his face, half angry, half stern. "You're lying to me. You never went. Your step count didn't change at all."

She's gotten smarter. A flicker of satisfaction passed through Jiang Wenzhe's heart. He lowered his voice. "Sorry. I was too busy today. I won't lie to you again."

Lin Sangyu's tone was firm. "Jiang Wenzhe, don't ever lie to me again. I'll check all your data!"

"A normal relationship isn't like ours. It doesn't trigger physical reactions just from a brief separation. We're both too dependent on each other. That's not right, and we both need to change."

Damn, she'd found out.

Jiang Wenzhe's fist clenched abruptly. He raised his lashes and asked, sullenly, "Then are you going to change?"

Lin Sangyu said, with heartfelt seriousness, "I will, and so will you. You'll understand once you see a psychiatrist."

Jiang Wenzhe pressed further. "And what did you mean by 'that's not right' just now?"

Lin Sangyu spoke quickly, all in one breath: "It means the way we rely on each other so much that we feel like we can't live without the other—that feeling is wrong. People will always separate eventually. Even a devoted couple who grow old together will be forced apart by death."

Only death could separate them—wasn't that exactly what he longed for? Jiang Wenzhe thought.

"I understand. I'll see a psychiatrist again tomorrow."

He leaned in a step closer.

"So, you disappearing today—was that intentional?"

Lin Sangyu met his deep gaze. "Yes."

"Alright. I understand."

She'd deliberately left, testing his limits.

Lin Sangyu said softly, "It's okay. I'll be with you while you get treatment. Don't be scared."

"Mm. I'm not scared."

No argument, no refusal.

Whatever Lin Sangyu said, Jiang Wenzhe agreed to.

"I need to use the bathroom. Wait for me."

Too much sweet soup this afternoon—her body chose the worst moment to betray her. Lin Sangyu clutched her stomach.

Jiang Wenzhe smiled. "Go ahead. I'll wait."

Her slender figure disappeared from view in a hurry, and the moment it did, Jiang Wenzhe's expression sank. His face dark and cold, he made three phone calls.

The first was to Jiang Xiao:

"Jiang Xiao, reinstall the tracking system for me."

The second was to the security company:

"Hello, I'm the owner of Building X. I need to modify and expand my existing cameras—make them all the finest pinhole models. I'll send you the specific locations later."

The third was to the bodyguards:

"From now on, you still follow Miss Lin and protect her. Just do it differently—stay in the shadows. Don't let her find out."

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