Jing Wen hastily averted her gaze, feigning nonchalance as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. Crouching down to pick up the batteries for the remote control, her hands betrayed her calm facade, trembling uncontrollably.
Though she had long anticipated this day would come, when it finally arrived, she couldn't help but lose her composure.
Holding back tears, Jing Wen fumbled with inserting the batteries into the remote, her emotions making the simple task nearly impossible.
Her anxiety was palpable, impossible to conceal from Zhou Yi's watchful eyes.
Silently, Zhou Yi knelt beside her and gently took the remote and batteries from her trembling hands.
"Let me handle this, Sister Wen. Aren't you curious about anything?"
With great effort, Jing Wen forced the corners of her mouth upward into an awkward, strained smile. "No, it's just... I was so thrilled by your sudden return that I fumbled with the remote."
Jing Wen was dodging the subject, preferring to play the fool who knew nothing.
As Zhou Yi worked on the batteries, he inquired, "When did you arrive, Sister Wen?"
Clutching the hem of her clothing, Jing Wen lowered her head. "I came this morning. I thought I'd buy some furniture to spruce the place up a bit. It felt too empty."
"Did you have breakfast?"
"Yes, I did."
"Weren't you wondering where I was when you found I wasn't home?"
Once the remote was fixed, Zhou Yi helped Jing Wen to her feet. They stood together on the balcony, bathed in warm sunlight, with flowers blooming beautifully on the windowsill. Yet, Jing Wen's heart felt encased in ice.
Whatever Zhou Yi had been doing, it was none of her business, and she had no right to inquire. After all, they weren't romantically involved.
Jing Wen's eyelashes quivered, her beautiful eyes brimming with unshed tears.
Clenching her teeth, she managed to hold the tears at bay, maintaining her façade of indifference.
"You're always so busy with work. I assumed you were occupied, so I didn't want to disturb you."
Zhou Yi gazed down at her, his tone measured. "So, can you guess what I was up to now?"
Jing Wen fell silent.
"I thought you'd be angry. It seems I'm not as important to you as I thought."
At these words, Jing Wen's eyes shot up. Flustered, she stammered, "No, it's not that... I just feel like I don't have the right to ask about your personal affairs."
"I'd rather see you angry, even hit me, than pretend as if nothing happened."
Zhou Yi appeared disheartened, leaning against the balcony railing with a distant look, lost in thought.
A tear finally escaped Jing Wen's eye, and she clutched Zhou Yi's hand, desperate to explain.
She had been heartbroken over the mark on Zhou Yi's lip, but seeing him like this now, she feared her earlier reaction might have wounded him.
Through her tears, she choked out, "I... I didn't dare ask. I was afraid you'd tell me you had a girlfriend. What identity, what right would I have to stay by your side then? So I chose to pretend ignorance. At least this way, we can still act as friends."
Zhou Yi removed his jacket and tossed it aside. Gently, he wiped away her tears and said softly, "I don't have a girlfriend."
Jing Wen sniffled and whispered, "Really? You're not lying to me, are you?"
Zhou Yi looked at her with a complex expression. "It's true. But I must also confess. Last night... I was with someone else."
Jing Wen's fingers curled slightly, her lips trembling as she bit down on them. The pain was excruciating, like needles piercing her heart just thinking about it.
But she knew she had no claim over him.
Zhou Yi's face was etched with guilt. "Sister Wen, I didn't want to deceive you, nor did I want to see you hurt. When I saw your reaction earlier, I immediately regretted my actions. If you're angry, hit me."
In truth, Zhou Yi had countless ways to deceive Jing Wen, but he chose honesty.
Because this day was inevitable. Zhou Yi was a player, and his heart was never destined to belong to just one person.
Jing Wen had known for a long time that there would be no future between them. She never imagined someone like her could be Zhou Yi's one and only. She could only try to accept it gradually.
Jing Wen sighed. At the very least, Zhou Yi hadn't lied to her or fed her empty platitudes.
What was done was done. He admitted his actions openly, shared his feelings, and expressed his regret.
Jing Wen shook her head. "Xiao Yi, I've told you before. We're not in a relationship. You don't need to worry so much about my feelings."
Zhou Yi cautiously embraced her, like a child who had done something wrong.
"Sister Wen, you're the most important person to me. Of course, I care about your feelings. Among everyone, you'll always be my top priority. No matter what you want to know, I'll always be honest with you."
Jing Wen felt somewhat relieved. Though they weren't a couple, Zhou Yi still cared about her and was willing to explain. For a fleeting moment, she almost felt like she was his girlfriend.
She patted his back softly. "As long as you don't lie to me, it's fine. Don't feel bad. Just knowing you care about me is enough to ease my pain."
Zhou Yi remained silent, holding Jing Wen tightly as if apologizing, which made Jing Wen both amused and exasperated. Her earlier sadness was dispelled by Zhou Yi's gesture.
"Alright, I'm not upset anymore. Why are you acting like this now?"
"I'm so sorry, Xiao Yi. If we had never crossed paths, do you think your life might have been better?"
"Never. Not once have I regretted meeting you."
Jing Wen gazed intently at Zhou Yi, her brow faintly furrowed as she tried to understand what could have led him to entertain such thoughts.
Without him, she would still be treading water in a life devoid of meaning—a life she despised with every fiber of her being.
Her youth had been steeped in hardship. After becoming a widow, she resigned herself to running that tiny shop, her days stretching out like an endless expanse of monotony. Each morning bled into the next, indistinguishable from the last. What difference was there between living a lifetime and merely existing for a single day?
No passion, no sorrow, no purpose, no one to hold dear or lean on—such a life offered nothing but a bleak horizon. She loathed it, yet until now, she had never dared to imagine anything different.
But everything changed when Zhou Yi entered her world. Her days became infused with hope; someone finally cared for her, valued her presence, and she found herself yearning to give back just as much. She poured her heart into their connection, cherishing every moment, not because she expected anything in return, but because loving him brought her immeasurable joy.
Even the hours spent waiting for him were filled with a quiet happiness, and seeing him made those moments bloom into pure elation. When she began taking time to dress up, to nurture her appearance, she felt as though she had awakened from a long slumber. For the first time, she truly felt alive.
She started experimenting with fashion, learning how to style herself—not because vanity compelled her, but because she wanted to look her best for the man who saw beauty in her. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror, and Zhou Yi's simplest compliment sent waves of warmth through her chest.
She dove headfirst into new pursuits: baking delicate pastries, mastering the art of restaurant management, even dreaming of enrolling in courses to further her education.
Step by step, she pushed herself forward, determined to become someone worthy of standing beside Zhou Yi. Someone refined, accomplished, and whole.
So, was his arrival truly meaningless?
Would her life have been happier without him?
For Jing Wen, the answer was crystal clear: no.
Perhaps Zhou Yi couldn't grasp the depth of her gratitude, but this bond—it was her lifeline. It gave her something to live for, even if fate dictated they might not remain together forever.
And then there was the comfort he provided, materially and emotionally. He spared her the struggles that once weighed her down, granting her a life far removed from the hardships she'd endured alone.
To put it bluntly, she often felt undeserving of being his lover.
"Xiao Yi," she murmured softly, her voice trembling with sincerity, "your presence has lit up my otherwise darkened existence. Even if that light doesn't belong to me, it has touched my soul all the same. Can you understand?"
It wasn't her moon, but for a fleeting moment, its glow had graced her skin.
And that—that was the profound significance of Zhou Yi's entrance into her life.
*I knew this day would come, so I wrote this chapter ahead of time. Honestly, I didn't want to write this scene—but some stories demand their painful moments. Stay with me. The light will return.*