CHAPTER 1424: CHAPTER 1347: A SAD STORY

"Thank you for the compliment." Ye Ranran’s red lips slightly curved, accepting his praise.

Her expression was indifferent, giving off an aura that kept others at a distance, clearly not wanting to engage in further conversation with him.

But Jun Mochan seemed oblivious, chatting with her sentence by sentence.

"I heard Miss Wen has not been well, confined to a sickbed for two years?" Jun Mochan asked nonchalantly.

Ye Ranran was slightly displeased: "Are you investigating me?"

"Just a guess." Jun Mochan swirled the red wine in his hand: "I also know you’re ill and can’t drink alcohol, right?"

He’s the one who’s sick, his whole family is sick.

Does that sound like something nice to say?

"Is that also a guess?" Ye Ranran sneered: "Why don’t you just admit it, that you had someone investigate me."

"Upset? That means I guessed correctly." Jun Mochan became more certain of his assumption.

Ye Ranran didn’t want to continue the conversation with him and stood up.

He didn’t pursue her insistently either.

Ye Ranran escaped from Jun Mochan, and feeling the oppressive sense dissipate, she patted her chest.

Just then Fu Rong entered from the doorway. Just as she was about to greet him, she lifted her foot to step forward, but her figure froze.

Fu Rong had his arm wrapped around someone, a dazzlingly radiant person, outshining even the chandelier lights above.

Ye Ranran no longer had the courage to approach.

She should have stepped forward to confront him, yet she found she had no right to do so.

From the beginning to the end, Fu Rong had never promised her anything; all her sacrifices were voluntary.

Fu Rong’s gaze swept across the room, brushing past Ye Ranran’s face as if he hadn’t seen her, and quickly moved on.

"Does it hurt?" Jun Mochan came to her side.

Seeing her heartache for another man made him feel uncomfortable too.

All these puzzles seemed enigmatic, and he was eager to unravel them, yet he couldn’t find a clue.

Like a tangle of threads, one must be patient and untangle them gradually; the more hurried, the more chaotic.

Jun Mochan suppressed his impatience in his heart and wore his usual shallow, genteel smile on his face.

Speaking nonsense, Ye Ranran gave him a Look: "If it were you, would you feel bad?"

"Yes, I feel quite bad," Jun Mochan sighed deeply, his voice laden with profound wistfulness.

Ye Ranran sized him up: "By that implication, did your loved one also run off with someone else?"

Dredging up someone’s pain, this behavior truly lacked grace, but right now she was desperate for the company of someone who shared her misery.

It seemed like this might soften the pain in her heart, or perhaps she could find someone to confide in, to lay bare all the sorrow within her.

"To save me, she fell into the sea, and when we met again, there was another man beside her, and it seemed she quite liked that man," Jun Mochan said in a deep voice, filled with unspeakable sadness.

"Ah, why?" Ye Ranran was truly captivated by his story.

Jun Mochan’s face grew sadder: "She doesn’t remember me anymore."

Such a mournful story, Ye Ranran didn’t know how to comfort him.

"What about you?" He asked gently in return.

The tone was so tender, like a cool breeze in summer, comforting and slowly easing one’s defenses.

Ye Ranran looked at the refined figure with his back turned to her: "As for me, it’s simple. I’ve liked him for twenty-eight years, but today I realized it’s all been one-sided affection on my part."

Jun Mochan’s eyes darkened slightly: "What about your illness? Is it not cured yet?"