On her way home, dragging her bicycle along, Lu Yixin cried like a fool.

Her secret crush had not even truly begun; the confession she wanted to make had not even taken shape in her imagination, yet she was already heartbroken.

She hiccuped, wiping her tears only for them to flow again, her cheeks burning painfully under the night wind.

Her mind was filled with the image of Fang Yongnian standing side by side with that woman. She even felt that the way he stood there looked gentle.

He had never been gentle toward her—only tolerant, only impatient.

She had hovered around him for eight years, her phone filled like a fangirl’s with pictures of him from all periods, yet she could not exchange them for his gentleness.

Every word he said today frightened her. Those words felt as if he had thought them over for a long time, things he was bound to say sooner or later. He had already prepared himself for their farewell. In the days to come, there would be no place for her in his life.

She was merely Lu Boyuan’s daughter, just the daughter of someone he knew.

She had fled in panic, even hoping he would forget what she had just said.

That way, at least she could still cling to him. He still had two months before leaving Hecheng; she could still have sixty more days like this afternoon—him working, her doing homework and dozing off beside him.

She should not have lost her composure.

She should not have called his name, should not have asked those questions.

Sobbing, she tried to take her phone from her backpack, but the zipper had not been closed; when she tugged, everything spilled to the ground.

Sniffling, Lu Yixin looked at the mess on the ground, squatted down, and simply wailed aloud.

There were few people in the alley. She cried for a while until her voice went hoarse and her eyes could hardly open, yet Fang Yongnian did not appear from the sky as they did in TV dramas and novels.

Perhaps she was just a supporting role.

All fairy tales were lies.

Lu Yixin cried until the back of her head throbbed. At last, accepting her fate, she stretched out her hand, sobbing as she picked up her things.

Then she saw that car key—a black one, a Buick business car key.

Fang Yongnian’s car key. It seemed that a few months ago, he had asked her to fetch a lunch box from the car trunk and had given her that spare key. She had forgotten to return it, and he had forgotten to ask for it back.

The girl crouched there, staring at the car key, and hiccuped.

She was about to cause trouble.

She murmured to herself.

Just this once.

She convinced herself.

She picked up the car key and carefully tucked it into the pocket of her jacket.

Just this once—she had to go see Fang Yongnian’s girlfriend, the woman who had made him say those words that cut ties.

She would not give her blessing.

She wanted to see it with her own eyes, cry once more, and properly experience heartbreak.

୨୧ ⏔⏔⏔⏔♡⏔⏔⏔⏔ ୨୧

Fang Yongnian left early in the morning. Missing a leg, he relied entirely on assistive devices to drive. He was not yet proficient with them, so he could not drive fast on the road.

Because he had to drive onto the highway, he hadn’t slept well the previous night. From time to time, he thought of Lu Yixin, who had made a mess in his shop yesterday before fleeing in panic.

He had probably underestimated how sentimental girls could be. He had always thought that Lu Yixin merely treated him as an idol, but now it seemed… something had changed.

Fortunately, he would be leaving soon; otherwise, he truly wouldn’t know how to deal with this matter.

The image of Lu Yixin’s face as she left flashed across his mind. Her reddened eyes and nose, looking as though if he said just one more word, she would collapse.

He started the car and shook his head.

What a sin. If Lu Boyuan ever found out, they’d probably gain another reason to never rest in peace with each other.

He turned on the car radio and took a sip of coffee.

The broadcast was reporting news about Musheng Pharmaceuticals, and his attention quickly shifted. The only sound in the car was the voice from the radio, and outside was Jiangnan in March—willows green, blossoms red.

When the car merged onto the highway, the sky was still clear and cloudless. Fang Yongnian took another sip of coffee.

The bitter coffee eased his insomnia, and the morning sunlight made him feel that his mood today was fairly good.

Driving on the highway still left him uneasy, but time truly could heal everything. At least now, when he saw the heavy trucks speeding by in the opposite lane, he no longer had the instinctive urge to turn the wheel or slam the brakes.

It was a workday morning, and there weren’t many cars on the highway. The weather along the way was warm and sunny. In good spirits, Fang Yongnian stopped at a rest area midway and bought himself a local sesame flatbread. Just as he stepped out of the rest stop doors, thunder cracked outside.

He frowned.

A rainy day on the highway in March was not a pleasant memory for him. No amount of time could heal such a familiar scene.

He got back into the car and called Yu Hanfeng. “It’s raining. I’ll wait for it to stop before driving. I might be very late today.”

“Alright,” Yu Hanfeng answered, as concise as always.

Leaning back in the driver’s seat, Fang Yongnian closed his eyes.

His damaged limb was already beginning to ache faintly. The thunder outside grew louder, and the wind picked up. To him, all of it felt like an ominous sign.

He quickly started the car again, parked it in a corner of the rest area, then turned off the engine, preparing to go into one of the hourly rooms at the stop to sleep for a while.

The phantom pain began to intensify. As he got out of the car, his steps were unsteady. Another clap of thunder sounded; he let out a muffled groan, his hand trembling as he shut the door.

The replay of that car accident scene made his whole state deteriorate, cold sweat was already breaking out.

He lowered his head, taking deep breaths.

There was still a spare mirror in the car trunk; he needed to move it into the hourly room before it started raining heavily.

Unfortunately, he had been too busy lately. It had been a while since the pain last acted up, and there wasn’t even any painkiller left in the car.

Clenching his teeth, he opened the trunk lid. Just then, lightning split across the sky—and a shrill scream burst from inside the trunk.

It took all of Fang Yongnian’s strength to stop himself from slamming the trunk shut by reflex. He had almost crushed Lu Yixin’s head in it.

The two of them, equally terrified, stared at each other for a long moment, unable to make a sound.

Thunder followed the lightning, and cold sweat was visibly forming on Fang Yongnian’s forehead.

“Get out,” he said through clenched teeth.

He couldn’t care anymore; he needed to find shelter before the rain came down hard.

Even with the light behind him, his face was so ashen it could be seen clearly. Lu Yixin scrambled out of the trunk in a panic, clutching the cardboard box that held the mirror as she came out.

Fang Yongnian closed the trunk and reached out to take the box from Lu Yixin’s hands.

“I’ll do it.” Lu Yixin’s shoes weren’t even fully on; she slipped and shuffled aside in her sneakers.

Under the light, Fang Yongnian’s cold sweat was already visible. Lu Yixin simply hugged the box and ran into the rest stop, quickly pressing the elevator button to the hourly rooms.

Fang Yongnian clenched his teeth.

He had neither the strength nor the energy to deal with her anymore. Once inside the elevator, he tossed his wallet to her and could only force himself to keep his eyes open, trying not to faint as his vision dimmed in waves.

He couldn’t be bothered with the looks from the rest stop staff. Lu Yixin had probably never stayed in an hourly room before, she stumbled her way through the booking. As he was losing consciousness from pain, he ground his teeth inwardly and cursed, “This girl actually remembered to bring her ID.”

Clearly a premeditated runaway.

If he were Lu Boyuan, he’d already have called the police. This was enough to ruin him.

Abducting an eighteen-year-old girl, and opening an hourly room. If he were Lu Boyuan, he’d kill himself on the spot.

“The door stays open,” he growled between clenched teeth, his face pale as iron. Keeping the door open at least made him look a little less like a beast.

Lu Yixin obeyed instantly.

She had originally planned to hide in the trunk all the way to Huating City—to secretly follow Fang Yongnian, secretly take one look at that woman, then quietly buy a train ticket home.

It was a last-minute decision yesterday; she hadn’t even discussed it with Zheng Ranran. Early that morning, she had sneaked into Fang Yongnian’s car. She would definitely face a storm when she went home after skipping a day of class, but for a girl freshly heartbroken, none of that mattered.

She even felt that it was lucky she had followed him—otherwise, if Fang Yongnian suddenly fell ill at the rest stop, no one would have been there to help him. He looked as if he might faint from pain at any moment.

“I’ll boil some water,” she said, clutching the electric kettle from the hourly room and running back and forth. In her panic, she nearly tripped over the cord.

“Stand against the wall,” Fang Yongnian ordered. His entire body looked as though it had been pulled from water, drenched in cold sweat, but he still had the strength to snap, and his tone carried unmistakable threat.

Lu Yixin instantly pressed herself against the corner wall, clutching the kettle with both hands, her round eyes wide, her face full of innocence and worry.

Fang Yongnian closed his eyes.

He no longer had the strength to scold her a second time. He opened the cardboard box himself and placed the custom-made triangular mirror between his legs, moving his intact left leg back and forth in front of it.

Outside, lightning flashed and thunder rolled, rain and wind raging wildly. He forced himself not to look, not to listen, focusing all his attention on the reflection of his smoothly moving left leg in the mirror.

His breathing gradually steadied. The pain was still there, but not to the point of fainting anymore.

At moments like this, he deeply hated the human brain.

In order to remember a limb that had already left the body, the human brain insisted on recalling how it once felt to move freely. Below the knee there was nothing but emptiness, yet the pain was so real. Just like that day, when the violent crash knocked him out, only for him to wake from the pain itself.

Pain that tore flesh from bone, pain that made his whole body convulse.

“Do you want to drink some hot water?” Lu Yixin, still pressed against the wall, asked again cautiously and persistently.

When she wasn’t feeling well, her mother always told her to drink more hot water.

“Drink more hot water”—it was almost the only thing she could do for Fang Yongnian now.

Fang Yongnian lifted his head. Sweat-damp hair hung over his eyes, but his gaze still made Lu Yixin shiver.

She pressed her back even tighter against the wall and held her breath obediently.

Fang Yongnian was truly angry now.

Lu Yixin completely quieted down, pressing her lips together as she watched Fang Yongnian lower his head again, mechanically repeating the same movements as before. The hourly room was so silent that even the ticking of the clock could be heard.

The door was open, so occasionally, passing travelers would glance inside. Some, too curious for their own good, would poke their heads in to look. Most of them were driven off by Lu Yixin’s glares, but a few thick-skinned ones whispered softly among themselves, wondering what exactly Fang Yongnian was doing.

Fang Yongnian ignored them completely.

Lu Yixin just watched quietly.

Sometimes she thought—how wonderful it would be if Fang Yongnian had never experienced that car accident. His temperament wouldn’t have become so unpredictable. He would surely still be that bookish man who knew nothing but his experiments, the one who, whenever she told him to exercise, would, just like Lu Boyuan, perfunctorily take off his glasses, put them back on, and call it a day.

Back then, he definitely wouldn’t have been like this.

Soaked through, cramped in a small hourly room, performing his rehabilitation exercises again and again under the eyes of passing strangers.

These movements were only to make his brain believe that his other, missing leg still existed, that it could still move.

He was pleading with his own brain to forget that disaster—head bowed, almost devout.