Chapter 173

It was as if I had already forgotten her.

I stared blankly as the video kept playing. My tears froze midstream, solidifying into a single pearl on my face.

That day, after being sedated at the hospital and waking up, the first thing I did was check the tracker on Songrong. It was the same way I’d found Zhong Ning on the beach last time.

The last location it showed was in the capital of Country Y.

Without hesitation, I boarded my private jet and flew straight there. But upon landing, what I found was a pet hospital.

At that moment, I understood. Zhong Ning had replaced the chip, cutting off the last thing that allowed me to find her.

She had made it clear—so completely—that she truly, truly never wanted to see me again.

I collapsed on the street. When I came to, I was lying on a hospital bed, an IV drip of glucose running into my arm.

Never before had I so clearly realized—Zhong Ning no longer wanted me. Completely and utterly.

And all of this was my own doing.

How could she just leave like that? Was everything between us a lie? She said she only needed a couple of days to cool off, that she’d listen to my explanation—yet she disappeared.

Zhong Ning, who had never lied, had learned how to disguise, how to deceive.

I hadn’t even finished the video before I rushed out of my room and said to Assistant Fang, “Prepare the plane. I’m going to Country S!”

Reliable as always, Assistant Fang drove me to the airstrip an hour later. The entire ride, I listened to videos one after another—hearing Zhong Ning chatting with people, laughing freely, saying how spicy this dish was, how sweet that one was; exclaiming, “Look, that eagle’s flying so high!”; grumbling with a laugh about having to bathe Songrong again.

I said nothing. I just held my phone tightly, listening as if to a revelation from God.

When we finally reached the airfield, just as I placed one foot on the boarding steps, my body froze.

Even if I could see Zhong Ning again, what difference would it make? She wouldn’t want to hear a single word from me—otherwise, why would she have left in the first place?

If I went to her now, it would only be to hear her rejection face to face.

Zhong Ning had always been decisive. Once she made up her mind, she never changed it.

The wind at the airport lifted the hem of my trench coat, fierce and unrelenting. The wind in Wind City was always like that—untouchable, unable to stay.

Zhong Ning was like that wind. She swept past me suddenly, and I thought I had caught her tail, forgetting that I had left the window open.

I had made a mistake. If I didn’t correct it, didn’t try to make amends, then no matter how desperately I chased, it would all be in vain.

I released my grip on the railing and stepped back down the stairs. “I’m not going.”

I said, “I’m not going.”

The problem had never been with Zhong Ning. From beginning to end, it was me—me who couldn’t let go of love, me who feared it, me who tried to control it, and me who abandoned it.

I had committed a grievous sin. I had failed the most open and kind person, and betrayed the purest, truest love. What right did I have to shamelessly keep returning, armed with hollow, carefully woven lies, begging for her forgiveness?

Death, when it truly arrived, came faster and more mercilessly than I had imagined.

I returned to that small home and lay in bed. For days on end, I didn’t work, didn’t speak a word.

The butler came to attend to me. Whatever meals he prepared, I ate them without question. Other than that, I just lay there, listening to Zhong Ning’s videos.

She was so happy.

In a foreign land, speaking an unfamiliar language, trading kindness for sincerity—doing nothing special every day, yet even watching the sunset made her feel blessed.

That was the life Zhong Ning wanted.

The life she truly longed for.

I stared blankly ahead, my eyes as empty as those of a dying fish washed ashore, my lips moving weakly. “Yangzhi Ganlu. I want a bowl of Yangzhi Ganlu.”

The butler quickly had the chef prepare it and brought it to me.

Sweet mango, sour pomelo, all mixed with milk—connected, blended. I silently scooped a spoonful, then another, as Zhong Ning’s voice came from my phone.

“It’s so wonderful. I wish I could live here forever.”

Another of her words echoed in my mind at the same time:

“I’ve never handled this kind of work before, but don’t worry—I’ll learn. Don’t worry, Shiqing, I’ll do my best to protect you.”

And she really had. She had worked hard to build relationships, gone to the company to study, sacrificed all her rest, and finally earned the successor’s position—all for that one promise.

“Changing the way you think is hard. Don’t rush it. Let things take their course. I believe in you, so you must believe in yourself, too.”

Even with her schedule so full, she had cared for my mental state, always watching over me, encouraging me, believing in me.

And what had I done in return? I faked my tears, pretended to regret, swore I’d never make the same mistake again, claimed I was willing to change, to accept change, to like change.

But the truth was, I never did. I always hid my true feelings, lived as a hypocrite, keeping every real thought buried deep inside.

How arrogant, how self-righteous—to think I could control someone else’s life and thoughts.

I deserved it.

Salty tears dripped one by one into the bowl of Yangzhi Ganlu.

“Stop crying,” I muttered. “Your tears are fake.”

How stupid. How utterly stupid I had been!

Wiping my tears while still shedding them, I slowly finished the bowl of Yangzhi Ganlu now mixed with my sorrow.

“So sweet. So very sweet.”

“I like sweet things, Ning Ning. I really do.”

Chapter 63

I threw myself back into work.

I couldn’t afford not to. The Xie Corporation was my responsibility—my pursuit, branded into my blood since birth. And the Zhong Corporation, the one I had seized through every possible means—it was my trophy.