After the Breakup, the Possessive Heiress Regretted It - Chapter 27

Chapter 27: A Long Road Ahead 

After pulling an all-nighter to finish up her work in advance, Ji Wanmian finally turned her full attention to packing for her trip home.

She had thought she’d have lots of things to ship back, but in the end, she only mailed one package of clothes. Everything else fit into her suitcase.

To be honest, although she’d spent days complaining about how tiny the rented apartment was and how badly the appliances worked, now that it was time to leave, she actually felt a bit reluctant.

As expected, you only realize the value of something once you’re about to lose it.

She still couldn’t forget the Jianbing guozi (Chinese crepes) and hotpot she never got to eat. She debated just ordering both at once.

But after struggling with the thought for a while, she was simply too tired to go out—even opening the door felt like too much effort.

While waiting for her food delivery, Ji Wanmian suddenly remembered that the two missed meals were both connected to the same person—Lu Yu.

She wondered what Lu Yu was doing at that moment.

Probably still practicing makeup and learning how to dress herself.

After all, Lu Yu had a very important date on New Year’s Eve.

She remembered how, during their makeup lessons, Lu Yu couldn’t stop talking about the “huge event.” Ji Wanmian had heard it so often, she could practically recite it herself.

Now that she thought about it, Lu Yu really was a sweet and lovable girl.

Buying the prettiest clothes and dressing up carefully—all just to look beautiful for the person she liked.

Ji Wanmian smiled, pushed aside the thought, and quietly waited for her delivery.

Then came two quiet knocks at the door—“Knock knock—”

The sound wasn’t loud, but it startled her all the same.

Ji Wanmian frowned. She had clearly written, “Don’t knock, just leave it at the door.”

But calming herself down, she checked the time—it had only been five or six minutes since she ordered. Even if the delivery guy flew over, it couldn’t be that fast.

Ji Wanmian swallowed nervously. In just those few seconds, her mind flashed through a dozen horror movie scenes. She didn’t even have the courage to walk up and check the peephole.

Maybe they just knocked on the wrong door.

Holding her breath, she tried to pretend nobody was home.

But right at that moment, her phone rang—loudly—so loud it felt like it would shatter her entire body.

Her hand trembled as she picked up the phone.

It was an unfamiliar number.

She remembered the annoying calls she’d gotten recently from tutoring centers and real estate agents—she wasn’t about to answer.

Thankfully, the caller had the sense to hang up on their own.

After the ringtone stopped, Ji Wanmian became anxious again. Now the person outside definitely knew someone was in.

Since she couldn’t keep pretending, she got up and walked to the door, peeking through the peephole to see who was knocking.

But whoever had been there was already gone.

All that was left for her to see was a quickly retreating back.

Because she was looking through the peephole, and the person had walked away quickly, Ji Wanmian could only make out that it was a woman with short black hair. She wanted to study the figure more closely to confirm who it was—but in the blink of an eye, the person had disappeared completely from view.

With her famously timid personality, there was no way she’d dare chase after them.

Maybe it really was just a mistake.

She stepped away from the door and let out a big sigh of relief. As long as it wasn’t someone there to hurt her, she didn’t care who it was.

She flopped back onto the sofa, debating whether to watch a show or play a game. But before she could decide, her phone rang again—and once again startled her.

This time, it was even louder. It seemed to shake the entire apartment, ringing through her ears.

Ji Wanmian gritted her teeth, thinking she should change that jarring ringtone—and turn the volume all the way down.

Still shaken, she glanced at the incoming call alert. She was about to lose her temper over these mysterious calls, but then saw it was her food delivery arriving—and instantly became calm. She sprang off the sofa, pressed her ear to the door to make sure the delivery person had left, and only then dared to open the door to retrieve her lunch and dinner.

This courage … sometimes Ji Wanmian couldn’t help but laugh at herself.

Suddenly she remembered she had arrived home after 1 a.m. While there were streetlights, winter nights were mostly empty and quiet.

So she called her mother, Ji Lan, intending to ask if she could pick her up. But when she heard her mom’s voice, hesitation hit—so late at night and in the cold, worrying to wake them for nothing wasn’t worth it.

So she simply mentioned she’d arrived, exchanged a few pleasantries, and ended the call.
After all, if she could come to this city alone for Pei Jinyue, what was she afraid of now?

She subconsciously recalled her name: Pei Jinyue. Ji Wanmian lowered her eyes and chided herself for being weak.

Someday she would completely forget Pei Jinyue’s name and all those memories—no matter if someone brought them up again, she’d just smile and feel nothing.

She refused to dwell any longer; eating was priority. The delivery boxes opened, the aroma swirled in the air like a soft cloud.

Before she knew it, it was December 31st—a beautiful day. Ji Wanmian woke early, dragged her suitcase through the streets; when she looked up, sunlight shimmered on the horizon.

Maybe because of the holiday and good weather, more people filled the street: elderly couples supporting each other, laughing young people passing by, children bounding through the crowds—then emerged grown-ups with that schoolbag they once envied as kids, but without the playful laughter anymore.

Earlier, Ji Wanmian often skipped breakfast. When Pei Jinyue first came to stay, she just rushed downstairs, bought something, and ran back up. Now, walking this street at leisure, she heard vendors calling out from shops, despite pushing the suitcase she took a seat in one spot where frying youtiao hissed in the oil, and the aroma of buns drifted above the steamers.

Probably because the place was cheap and popular, the owner was so busy he kept apologizing for the wait. Ji Wanmian smiled and told him not to hurry—there was still plenty of time before her high-speed train departed; she had time to dawdle.

While waiting, she noticed a little girl nearby—elementary-school age—who initially was doing homework at a table but offered to take over handling money for her mom. Even though the shopkeeper urged her to study instead, the girl shook her head: she just wanted to learn how to handle cash.

As Ji Wanmian overheard their local dialect, she couldn’t catch much but sensed what mattered most—that this was a loving family. Love doesn’t need flashy gestures; it’s wanting the other person to suffer less—to be better.

When the owner placed youtiao, buns, and soy milk before her, Ji Wanmian realized she’d ordered too much. But she thought, okay—today she needed strength. She plowed through the food.

While eating slowly, people bustled by: some muttering complaints, others laughing breathlessly, some staring at the shop’s menu before pulling out enough money for just a bowl of porridge, while some tasted a dish, frowned, and walked away.

Maybe this, she realized, was real life.

After finishing the soy milk, wiping her mouth, she paid. Pushing her suitcase, she left the shop. The morning breeze was gentle this time—not as harsh as evening. It embraced her leaving the city.

A breeze brushed her cheeks and made her eyes glisten.

She strolled and paused wherever the scenes caught her eye.

By the afternoon, she was at the high-speed rail station. Awaiting her train, Ji Wanmian opened a messaging app and typed a long message, hesitating whether to send it.

But before she could, a message came in:

Lu Yu: “Wan Mian, I’m so nervous—do you think my outfit is okay?”

Lu Yu: “[image.jpg]”

Ji Wanmian smiled. She had worried maybe she was bothering Lu Yu. But now that Lu Yu messaged first, she relaxed.

She opened the picture and nodded with satisfaction—it was exactly the look Ji Wanmian had coached her on. Her outfit and makeup suited her perfectly.

Just as she prepared to respond with praise, she noticed a familiar necklace in the image—zooming in, she recognized it: a little fish shape, identical to Pei Sichen’s.

In that moment, everything clicked.

Why Lu Yu stared blankly when hearing Pei Jinyue’s name.
Why Pei Jinyue knew Lu Yu existed.
Why Lu Yu answered a phone call about Pei Jinyue being drunk—to the letter.

Maybe this was fate.

Both she and Lu Yu—deskmates in high school—fell in love with someone from the Pei family.

Lu Yu noticed Ji Wanmian’s delay and sent another message: “Is this outfit ugly? 💔”

Ji Wanmian shook herself from the swirling thoughts and finally replied.

Lu Yu, happy from the compliment, sent a stream of sticker emojis and promised to take Ji Wanmian out to eat someday.

Seeing Lu Yu so cheerful, Ji Wanmian felt guilty telling her the reality—but it had to be done. So, she told Lu Yu that she was heading home now.

Lu Yu messaged back, “Aww,” then switched tone:
“We have a long way ahead. We’ll meet again soon.”

Ji Wanmian wanted to smile at Lu Yu’s optimism—but when she thought how Lu Yu might truly be with Pei Sichen, a pang of fear struck. Not that she wanted to interfere—maybe Lu Yu and Pei Sichen were truly happy.

Who could predict the ending?

She simply replied “Okay” and didn’t say more—didn’t want to spoil the mood.

Before night fell, she boarded the train home. Her seat by the window let her watch the scenery unfurl.

Time passed and the world looked like a film—frames flickering through her memories. Things she once believed she’d never forget became fleeting roadside scenery.

As Ji Wanmian let herself feel melancholic, her phone quietly chirped. The alert was so soft she almost didn’t notice—until much later.

She checked the number—it was the same unknown number that had called earlier. If people call at night about tutoring or houses again… that’s ambition, at least.

Truth be told, Ji Wanmian felt moved—and then blacklisted the number.

She closed her eyes, tried to rest. She had woken up at dawn, but fatigue felt far off. Looking at the clock—three hours until the New Year, she leaned back and thought: Lu Yu must be on her date now, happy and excited…

But she wasn’t.

The girl wearing the fish necklace had been waiting—but the person she wanted to see never showed.
Lu Yu stood in the cold wind holding a gift for Pei Sichen—waiting for an hour.

In the festive streets, people all around were laughing—but only she felt a sharp anxiety, a deep fear.

She dialed Pei Sichen’s number.

It rang forever with no answer.

She told herself, maybe they didn’t hear it? So she dialed again.

Still no answer.

Fear gripped her—hands shaking as she tried again, wandering among the crowds, hoping Pei Sichen was there, hiding to surprise her.

But every step she took deepened the ache in her heart. The more she walked into the crowd, the more she felt that Pei Sichen wouldn’t come tonight.

Stopping, she called again.

Still no answer.

How could a person like Pei Sichen go so long without their phone? If she didn’t answer, maybe she wouldn’t ever come in the future either.

Lu Yu sighed and thought: If that’s the case… maybe it’s okay. Maybe there’s some reason things ended.

She turned and walked toward a quieter part of the street. Slowing her pace, she noticed her shoes were uncomfortable—her heels were bleeding. She sat on a bench, arms hugging herself for warmth, realizing how foolish she’d been to wear new shoes and a pretty outfit.

Now, not only had she missed seeing him—she’d hurt her feet and might get sick.

She lowered her head, heavy and heartache sinking in, sighing repeatedly.

Suddenly, someone approached—soundlessly—kneeling on one knee before her.

Lu Yu didn’t look up, but then she felt their gaze land on her—and the tears she’d held back flooded freely.

“Why did you come so late?” she sobbed, wiping tears, a mix of scolding and longing.

But Pei Sichen said nothing.

Her black cap’s brim shadowed her eyes. Lu Yu worried something happened and began to ask—when a warm breath pressed against her lips.

The world warmed; she felt Pei Sichen take her hand. She exhaled softly—and closed her eyes.

Pei Sichen’s body was warm, a few beads of sweat traced her brow. She had run to make it.

After a while, Lu Yu pulled away—today’s Pei Sichen was different; even that kiss was bitter. She needed to ask what was wrong. But as she moved away and the cap brim lifted slightly, she saw Pei Sichen’s eyes—bloodshot and burning.

“What’s wrong? Pei Sichen… can you tell me…” Lu Yu’s voice trembled, hands cupping her face. But seeing the expression, words failed her. She felt—like a discarded puppy’s injustice.

Pei Sichen abruptly stood, pulled her cap lower, took a few steps back—frightened—and turned to walk away.

Lu Yu rose to chase but her wounded foot hurt—she gasped and bent down, clutching her heel.

She might not catch her.

She lowered herself to the stone, sobbing quietly.

“I’ll carry you,” said Pei Sichen, returning.

She could never bear to see Lu Yu in pain—or crying. She wanted her “little fish” to swim free in the ocean—not drown in tears.

If hugging meant their hearts aligned, being pressed against her back—feeling her breath with every step—was enough for Lu Yu. As long as they could breathe—that was already more than enough.

Lu Yu leaned her face into Pei Sichen’s hair as the breeze softened around them.

“Do you remember our first meeting?” she asked hesitantly, before the wind blew them apart again.

Pei Sichen’s hoarse answer came: “I remember—it was storming that night, I went to buy a pad and met you.”

Lu Yu inhaled, forcing her voice steady: “Yes, I was working at the convenience store. I saw you looked unwell—asked if you needed to go to the hospital.”

Pei Sichen looked down: “That night I was upset—I didn’t answer well. I’m sorry.”

Hearing the apology, Lu Yu’s heart wobbled—but she pushed it back and said, “It’s okay. After that, I thought I would never see you again. But then you came back next week.”

“I came to get more food,” Pei Sichen replied. “It started raining again, so I stayed late at the convenience store.”

Lu Yu had tears hanging at her face but smiled, “I thought—who works that hard?”

After a pause, Pei Sichen finally mentioned the future: “Our third meeting was at the bus stop.”

Lu Yu said: “I saw you there too. But you didn’t seem like someone who took the bus. You looked harsh, so I didn’t dare talk to you.”

Pei Sichen pressed her lips, struggled, then asked: “Now do you understand why?”

A tear finally dropped—onto Pei Sichen’s shoulder, tracing down.

It had started raining again.

Lu Yu choked out: “Pei Sichen, you once took the bus or made a long taxi route—all for me—why now… are you giving up on me?”

The rain merged with bl00d and tears. It ached.

Pei Sichen lowered her head: “I’m sorry.”

Lu Yu’s voice faded: “I don’t want to hear that apology… I want an explanation…”

Pei Sichen’s voice was hoarse:
“Xiaoyu, many endings in this world don’t have reasons.”

Lu Yu shook herself, nearly spraining her foot as she slipped from behind her. Pei Sichen reached out to help—but missed.

“I don’t want to hear excuses. I only want to ask one thing…” Lu Yu paused, wiped her tears. When she could speak again:
“Pei Sichen… are you giving up on me?”

I don’t want to. I don’t.

My whole life I just want to hold your hand.

But that was Pei Sichen’s inner truth—her world was ruled by action, not emotion.

Finally, she said:
“Yes.”

At that moment, the breeze lifted Lu Yu’s hair—she remembered that stubborn girl at the convenience store.

But now, she didn’t even deserve the chance to tuck a strand of hair behind Lu Yu’s ear.

My little fish—you are free.
But I am not.
I must go back and accept my fate.

Even if Pei Jinyue had said, “If you dare to return tonight, I will look down on you.”

Pei Jinyue couldn’t stop Pei Yan, though.

The arranged engagement was inevitable.

Pei Sichen had run impulsively—forgetting even her phone—hoping to reach Lu Yu, take her away.

But when she saw Lu Yu, she couldn’t bear it.

Lu Yu was too good to make suffer.

Pei Sichen paused—a sudden thought struck: How could she forget her phone at home?
Though she tried to make everything foolproof, if Lu Yu had called…