After the Breakup, the Possessive Heiress Regretted It - Chapter 26

Chapter 26: I’m Waiting for Someone to Come Back.

Yeah.

What was the point?

As Pei Jinyue slowly approached her, Ji Wanmian didn’t instinctively step back—instead, she smiled softly.

After knowing Pei Jinyue for so many years, she knew exactly what the person in front of her was about to do.

And coincidentally, she wanted it too.

She was perfectly sober, yet at that moment, she also wanted to do something utterly irrational.

The morning snowfall filled the sky like a dream. Once she woke up, it would be a brand-new day. What once felt vivid and close had already melted away like water on the ground—untraceable.

Ji Wanmian really wanted to say something overly sentimental like, “I want nothing in return, I just like you,” or “I love your soul.”

But she couldn’t say it.

Because her feelings weren’t that pure either.

At some point, her desire to merely hold Pei Jinyue’s hand had evolved into wanting to embrace her, kiss her, even possess her.

People really do change.

“Pei Jinyue,” Ji Wanmian wrapped her arms around Pei Jinyue’s neck, her smile radiant and eyes crinkling, “I think I finally understand you a little.”

“I finally get how someone can do all the things only lovers should do… even without being in love.”

When Pei Jinyue met Ji Wanmian’s gaze, it was like looking at a stranger.

For the first time, she saw a kind of indifference that had never existed in Ji Wanmian’s eyes before.

She was stunned for a second or two—then oddly enough, thought it wasn’t such a bad thing.

“This will probably be the last time,” Ji Wanmian whispered softly into Pei Jinyue’s ear, her breath warm as she spoke.

As she said that, her hands slowly reached for the layers of clothing on the person in front of her.

Pei Jinyue froze at first, then smiled faintly. She reached out, just like she always used to, cupped Ji Wanmian’s face, lowered her head, and kissed her.

This time, the kiss tasted of alcohol.

Bitter and lingering.

But just as Pei Jinyue parted her lips, about to go further, she caught a close-up glimpse of something she’d never seen before—sorrow in Ji Wanmian’s eyes.

With just one look, she was thrown into it—utterly and completely. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull herself out.

It hurt.

Stifling. Painful. Despairing…

All of it came crashing down. Pei Jinyue couldn’t handle it. She instinctively took two steps back.

“What’s wrong?” Ji Wanmian let out a cold laugh. “Do I no longer look like the ‘Nian Nian’ you used to know?”

Honestly, Pei Jinyue herself didn’t even know what was wrong.

But she knew she had to stop.

Even though her head was spinning from the alcohol and it was hard just to walk straight—she knew she needed to get out of there fast.

So, Pei Jinyue adjusted her clothes. Once she was sure everything was in place, she turned without even daring to lift her head and headed for the door.

“You’re always like this,” Ji Wanmian said without trying to stop her, standing there coldly as she watched Pei Jinyue’s every move. “Come and go as you please.”

“But this time, once you leave… we’ll never see each other again.”

Pei Jinyue paused, her hand resting on the doorknob, unmoving.

Ji Wanmian sat back down on the sofa, turned on the TV, and picked a movie:
“But let’s be clear. I didn’t come here to say goodbye. Goodbyes imply hoping to meet again someday. But I’m different. I don’t want to ever see you again in this lifetime. Even if we run into each other, I’ll just treat you like a stranger.”

Pei Jinyue stayed silent for a long time before finally squeezing out one word: “Okay.”

“So go.” Ji Wanmian pressed the remote. The sound of the movie began to play.

The volume wasn’t loud, but it was just enough to cover the sound of Pei Jinyue closing the door.

This time, her departure was completely silent.

It stirred no ripples in Ji Wanmian’s heart.

She sat there like nothing had happened, watching her movie intently.

A completely different person from that morning.

Maybe she’d finally figured things out.

Turns out growing up is this simple.

She had thought it would take at least a whole month to get over the heartbreak—but in less than a day, she had already discarded all those feelings, along with the relationship itself.

Just this morning, she’d been crying her eyes out. No matter how much she tried to let go, she’d always find herself thinking of Pei Jinyue’s face. She remembered how she always considered Pei Jinyue’s feelings first—even before feeling her own pain.

But now, she understood clearly—you have to love yourself.

No matter when, no matter what, you must always love yourself first.

Even if you’re willing to give everything for someone else, it must be based on the foundation of self-love.

After finishing the movie, Ji Wanmian stretched, iced her swollen eyes, then took a nice, hot shower.

She changed into clean pajamas, and once she stepped out of the bathroom, she suddenly felt like wandering through the apartment one last time.

Just like the day she and Pei Jinyue first got together—she’d done the same thing, walking all over the rented place.

Back then, every piece of furniture made her happy. But now, even looking at the same things, her heart felt completely different.

She had genuinely loved this place—because it carried so many memories. But that was precisely why she had to leave.

Lying on the bed, though no longer sad, the day’s emotional rollercoaster left her a bit restless.

Turning this way and that, she picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts.

In the end, she called her mom—Ji Lan.

She was a little nervous. It was the middle of the night. She might wake her mom.

But Ji Lan picked up quickly.

“My sweet girl, what’s wrong?”

There was still sleep in her voice, but the second she spoke, she gently and warmly called her, “sweet girl.”

Ji Wanmian’s nose stung with the urge to cry again.

Not out of sadness, but because she felt lucky.

The person she’d loved for years once said, “Don’t call me again,” and she’d been too scared to even dial a number, no matter how much she missed her.

But her mom was different. Even if she was sound asleep, the moment her daughter called, she answered right away.

“Hmm? Sweet girl? Did you call the wrong number?” Ji Lan asked.

“Mama…” Ji Wanmian choked out the word, and the sound of her stifled sobs traveled across the phone line.

“Oh no, what’s wrong?” Alarmed, Ji Lan spoke in a flurry. “Did someone bully you? Are things not going well at work? Or are you short on money? Whatever it is, just tell Mama. If things are bad, your dad and I will check the next train and come see you right away!”

“No, no,” Ji Wanmian quickly reassured her. “I just… I miss home. I miss you both.”

There was a pause on the other end. Then Ji Lan burst into cheerful laughter and nudged the man beside her awake: “Did you hear that? Our daughter says she misses us! I can’t believe it—our shy girl actually admitted she missed us!”

That warm teasing lifted Ji Wanmian’s mood a lot.

“Mama—” she whined like a child, “I finally worked up the nerve to say something emotional, and you make fun of me. Now I’m embarrassed!”

Ji Lan chuckled, then tried to sound more serious: “That’s my bad. Say it again, I’ll respond properly this time.”

Ji Wanmian opened her mouth, but after thinking for a second, she laughed and said, “You just want to hear me say ‘I miss you’ again, don’t you?”

Ji Lan feigned surprise: “Wow, you saw through me already?”

The two continued chatting with lighthearted teasing.

Eventually, the topic shifted to her coming home—and Ji Wanmian expressed her hesitation, fearing that relatives or old classmates might think she failed in the city.

Ji Lan’s tone instantly turned firm: “If anyone dares mock you, let me handle them.”

Then she suddenly remembered something:
“By the way, I forgot to tell you earlier—remember that classmate named Wen Su? She’s come by our place a few times. I told her you were working out of town, but she still visits during holidays with little gifts, always saying she wants to see you when you’re back.”

Ji Wanmian was stunned: “Really? Why are you only telling me now?”

Ji Lan scratched her head: “Old age, bad memory. Besides, your friend didn’t seem in a hurry. Every time I told her to call you, she said she didn’t want to disturb you. She said you gave her some money before, and she’s never forgotten your kindness. She seems like a good kid.”

After the call ended, Ji Wanmian lay in bed thinking about Wen Su.

The memories slowly resurfaced.

In high school, they’d been desk-mates. Wen Su was a quiet girl, soft-spoken, always immersed in her studies.

Ji Wanmian had tried hard to make friends, but Wen Su rarely initiated conversation.

One day, during a break, Ji Wanmian leaned over and quietly asked, “Wen Su, do you not like me?”

The question startled Wen Su so badly she dropped her pen. She blinked rapidly, unable to say anything for a long time—clearly flustered.

Ji Wanmian, discouraged, muttered, “Alright then. I guess I must’ve done something to upset you.”

She bent down to pick up Wen Su’s pen. Just as she reached out, Wen Su did too, and their fingers touched.

Wen Su quickly pulled back.

Ji Wanmian picked up the pen and looked up, only to see Wen Su walking briskly out of the classroom.

She sighed. Guess she really hates me… even the slightest touch makes her recoil.

But when class was about to start, Wen Su came back—something rare for the diligent top student who barely took breaks.

And… she was holding snacks?

Without saying much, she quietly placed the snacks in Ji Wanmian’s drawer and mumbled, “Sorry… I went to buy these to apologize. I didn’t have much money, so it’s nothing special. I hope you don’t mind.”

Ji Wanmian was stunned: “You bought these… for me? Thank you! I won’t mind at all!”

Wen Su smiled faintly, picked up her pen, and said, “Alright. Focus on the lesson now.”

The memory of that scene slowly lulled Ji Wanmian into sleepiness.

She tried to recall more, but the details were fuzzy. She remembered that Wen Su later moved seats because of her excellent grades. They didn’t sit together after that.

And the help she gave? She had only given Wen Su some money, subtly, after hearing she was struggling financially—even skipping meals.

Wen Su had resisted at first, even got upset with her. But eventually, she accepted it and said something quietly—something Ji Wanmian had almost forgotten.

But now she remembered:

“I’ll never forget your kindness. If I ever get the chance… I’ll repay you a hundred times over.”

Back then, Ji Wanmian just waved it off with a smile.

But thinking about it now… something about it felt strange.

Maybe she was just overthinking.

She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

When she woke up, the empty apartment didn’t feel lonely. Instead, she felt… relieved.

No more tiptoeing around just to buy Pei Jinyue her favorite breakfast.

No more anxious waiting for her to say another name.

No more emotional strings tied to her every word.

Back when she watched dramas as a kid, she used to wonder: if she ever broke up, would she cry, lose weight, and stay heartbroken?

But time gave her the answer.

Standing on the balcony, wind brushing her face, Ji Wanmian knew—those tears had already blown away with yesterday’s wind.

Heartbreak only hurts when you can’t let go—when you think the breakup wasn’t meant to happen.

But that wasn’t the case here.

Maybe this really was the best ending.

If there was any regret—it was not scolding Pei Jinyue properly before the breakup.

Too soft-hearted.

No wonder she couldn’t sleep.

Turns out, the real reason for her insomnia was missing the perfect opportunity to roast her ex.

She stepped away from the balcony, made herself a bowl of porridge, and lounged on the sofa looking at train tickets.

She’d need two more days to pack—so New Year’s Eve would be perfect.

Her parents would be off work, and they could come pick her up.

December 31st…