Willing to Be for Her - Chapter 29

The woman’s voice was deep, carrying an undeniable authority.

Song Yanshi instinctively turned around, her gaze colliding with Ning Yiqing’s icy eyes behind silver-rimmed glasses. Her slender, jade-like fingers were clenched lightly, as if suppressing a surging tide.

She had seen Ning Yiqing before—in business magazines, on financial news channels—but even fleeting glimpses couldn’t capture the sheer impact of her presence.

The woman always dressed impeccably, her eyes calm and gentle, exuding an aura of pristine intelligence that inspired involuntary awe and… infatuation.

But Song Yanshi had never seen this side of Ning Yiqing—cold, piercing, and almost out of control.

Or perhaps it was simply displeasure.

After all, the woman’s face was naturally beautiful and noble. Even when frowning, she didn’t appear troubled, but rather like a lofty, discerning critic.

*What could possibly trouble Chairman Ning?* Song Yanshi silently chided herself for being foolish.

“Chairman Ning… Chairman Ning, good day.”

The tender, intimate atmosphere in the hospital room vanished instantly. Song Ying Shi clutched the back of her neck, feeling both embarrassed and anxious.

*What on earth was I thinking?* she wondered, mortified. *Getting caught flirting with Chairman Ning’s Alpha… again!*

*My life might be in danger.*

“Song Yanshi, is it? Hello,” Ning Yiqing said, her brow remaining unfurrowed as she suppressed her imposing aura and spoke in a gentle tone. “I’m sorry to bother you. I need to speak with Luo Xuan about something. Would you like my secretary to take you to the newly opened restaurant for a meal?”

“A meal? No, no need. I’d feel terrible if you went to the expense,” Song Yanshi replied, surprised that Ning Yiqing knew her name and was offering to treat her. She felt both flattered and intimidated.

“It’s no trouble at all,” Ning Yiqing said, her tone neutral, drawing on the information Lan Leren had gathered. “That restaurant specializes in dairy-based dishes, which I believe you’ll enjoy. Or you can choose another place and invite some friends along.”

“I can invite friends too?” Song Yanshi’s eyes lit up, momentarily forgetting her earlier fear.

Ning Yiqing gave a slight nod, her expression unreadable.

“Thank you, Chairman Ning. I… I’ll definitely treat you to a meal next time.”

Lan Leren chuckled softly and waved at Song Yanshi, thinking to herself, *These young ladies from wealthy families are so innocent and charming.* As if Chairman Ning would ever have time to dine with them.

Even when dining with the Old Master, she had to squeeze in.

After Song Yanshi left, the hospital room fell silent once more. Ning Yiqing lowered her gaze, the suffocating sensation of drowning resurfacing, making it difficult to breathe.

“Xiao Xuan, if I hadn’t come, would you have rejected her?”

Luo Xuan meticulously polished the golden-hued wooden carving, her slender, pale fingers revealing faint calluses that caught Ning Yiqing’s eye.

“Xiao Xuan, tell me.”

Ning Yiqing stared intently at Luo Xuan, the girl’s beauty striking, her innocence radiating through clear, transparent eyes like the last dewdrop clinging to a bamboo leaf—crystalline as green quartz.

Some might mistake Luo Xuan’s stubbornness for mere glass, fragile and easily shattered.

But they would be wrong. She was a stubborn stone, one that would rather break her head against a wall than yield.

Luo Xuan pressed her lips together, unwilling to answer Ning Yiqing.

The woman didn’t press further. Instead, she gently brushed Luo Xuan’s soft, silver-tinged hair, her pale fingers deliberately tangling in the strands, tightening their grip.

“Xiao Xuan, come home and stay with me. The doctors and equipment are already in place, and I’ll be there for you every step of the way.”

This time, Luo Xuan let out a soft laugh, casually steering the conversation back. “Whether I reject Song Yanshi or not is none of President Ning’s concern. You’re overstepping your boundaries.”

“Xiao Xuan, the conditions at home are much better than here. You can recuperate while relaxing,” Ning Yiqing said, pushing up his silver-rimmed glasses. The corners of his eyes curved slightly, and his narrow eyes flashed with a clear, water-like light, conveying a sense of meticulous control yet boundless desire.

Luo Xuan continued to speak carelessly, her tone nonchalant. “Besides, President Ning should know that I’ll always want to be with the person I love. Isn’t marking just a natural part of that?”

The sensation of drowning intensified, leaving her vision filled with an icy, deep blue. Ning Yiqing’s breath caught in his throat as he recalled the cruel truth:

Luo Xuan could mark any Omega—except her.

Any Omega would do, but she alone was forbidden.

Luo Xuan placed the wooden carving down, casually gathered her hair into a bun, and slowly lay back on the hospital bed. She pulled the blanket over her head, her voice muffled.

“I need to rest now. President Ning, please leave. It’s improper for you to be in a strange Alpha’s room at night.”

The woman clutched her snow-blue prayer beads tightly, unsure whether her hands were cold or the beads were colder.

“Xiao Xuan, the bodyguards will be here soon. Go home and get some rest.”

Her voice was as gentle as spring water, but her lips trembled slightly due to her distress, revealing an unspoken sense of fragility.

Like a liquid filled to the brim, barely maintaining its precarious surface tension, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Outside the door, Qin Shiyi leaned casually against the wall, legs crossed, watching this rather amusing scene unfold.

Chairman Ning, the eternally composed and detached leader, was actually resorting to gently forcing an Alpha to return home? *Tsk, tsk, tsk,* no matter how you looked at it, this was utterly disillusioning.

One could only conclude that Ning Yiqing had definitely taken the wrong medication. This was completely out of character.

“President Ning, are you trying to restrict my freedom?”

Ning Yiqing shook her head wearily, her face slightly cold but her eyes still moist.

She spoke slowly and deliberately:

“Xiao Xuan, the conditions at home are much better than here. I’ve already discussed several treatment plans with the specialists. You can review them and decide for yourself, okay?”

“Decide for myself?” Luo Xuan glared coldly at Ning Yiqing, unable to believe the woman would actually force her back to the villa. “You’re about to have bodyguards drag me home. What freedom do I have left?”

“Star, you are free, like the dandelion and the baby’s breath in the pot,” Ning Yiqing said, his gaze as murky as fog, yet flickering with glimmers of hope. “I cherish every gift you’ve given me.”

“You just want to keep me locked by your side,” Luo Xuan said, her eyes drifting indifferently to the ceiling. “To receive even a word of praise from you… it’s an honor.”

Ning Yiqing fell silent, his eyes behind the silver-rimmed glasses as dark as ink, concealing a profound, lightless abyss.

He wondered if Luo Xuan was right. Had he truly stooped so low, using his power and wealth to coerce others into submission?

Or perhaps this was simply his true nature?

The bodyguards moved swiftly, three or four of them gently tidying the hospital room. After whispering to Ning Yiqing that everything was ready, they informed him the car was waiting downstairs.

“Xiao Xuan, would you like me to help you home?”

A warm breeze drifted in through the half-open window, carrying the clean, crisp scent of white sandalwood from the woman’s cascading hair. Cold detachment and fervent devotion seemed to burn together in her eyes, making her both noble and inscrutable.

Luo Xuan stared blankly at the ceiling, as if witnessing a silent war raging there. Her disciplined, ascetic principles were on the verge of collapse, locked in a fierce struggle with the twisted, unrestrained indulgence of madness.

The woman took Luo Xuan’s hand, their fingers interlacing, palms slightly damp.

“Xiao Xuan, let’s go.”

Luo Xuan glanced at Ning Yiqing, her eyes unfocused. She saw the… panic in Ning Yiqing’s eyes—a chaotic pain, as if her own self was tearing apart.

*How absurd,* Luo Xuan thought. *How could someone in power inadvertently reveal such vulnerability while forcing others?*

Luo Xuan scoffed softly and mechanically allowed Ning Yiqing to pull her up. Their hands pressed tightly together, the friction of their knuckles painful, yet she couldn’t break free.

“I have no choice, do I?”

“Xiao Xuan, I will apologize to Xia Zhiwan,” Ning Yiqing said. Her brow and eyes were strikingly beautiful, now radiating a sharp, obsessive, and unyielding authority.

Seeing the row of bodyguards standing menacingly outside the door, Luo Xuan smiled indifferently, fully aware that she indeed had no choice.

Her earlier question had been pointless, a self-inflicted humiliation.

“Let’s go. I don’t need your help. I can walk myself,” Luo Xuan said, forcefully wrenching her hand free from Ning Yiqing’s grip. She coughed lightly, her body trembling like a withered leaf in the wind.

Her fingers were already bleeding from the struggle, and she imagined the woman’s hands must be in a similar state.

*How ironic,* she thought, *that the prey’s desperate struggle can ultimately inflict mutual harm on both itself and its cage.*

The cherry tree in the garden villa stood tall and verdant, likely soon to bear fruit.

The blue cypress’s feathery foliage resembled a cloud, emitting a bluish-green glow in the night, while nearby, the delicate windflowers bloomed in understated elegance.

Everything remained exactly as she had left it. Plants might change little over a decade or two, but humans were different.

A few days apart could turn love into hatred.

Or perhaps, leave nothing behind at all.

The brass floor lamp in the villa’s living room cast a soft glow on the white blanket draped over the velvet sofa. Two mint-green cushions were neatly arranged beside it.

The scene appeared warm and orderly, almost meticulously so, but this didn’t align with Ning Yiqing’s habits.

The woman would never eat or entertain in the bedroom or study, reserving those spaces for rest and work.

Nor would she sleep or conduct business in the living room.

Every word and action, solemn and dignified to the point of rigidity, embodied propriety.

In Luo Xuan’s eyes, this was likely the ingrained habit cultivated by the Ning Family’s century-old lineage. From food and clothing to housing and transportation, every meal, every sip, every sight, every breath—everything was impeccably clean, orderly, and refined.

It wasn’t an ostentatious display of elegance or nobility, but rather an extraordinary self-discipline, exceptional discernment, and an uncommon tranquility brimming with patience.

Just as Luo Xuan was idly daydreaming, Ning Yiqing emerged from the kitchen, carrying a celadon porcelain bowl.

She wasn’t particularly skilled at soups or other culinary tasks. The tips of her fingers holding the bowl were slightly red, as if she had been burned.

“Xiao Xuan, if you’re tired, you can rest on the sofa. I asked Aunt Zhou to buy a new light blanket. Would you like some steamed egg custard?”

The bowl was uncovered, releasing the distinctive aroma of steamed egg custard. The custard was exceptionally tender, mixed with a touch of fresh tomato juice, without scallions, and topped with a layer of sesame oil.

Everything was prepared exactly to Luo Xuan’s preferences, without the slightest deviation.

Though she had once desperately longed for Ning Yiqing to make steamed egg custard for her, Luo Xuan no longer wanted it.

It wasn’t that the custard was unappetizing, but the timing was wrong.

“The second-floor outdoor area has been fitted with sunshades. When you go out during the day, be careful not to catch a chill. I’ll have Aunt Zhou and the others keep an eye on you. If you want to do wood carving, you can use the sunniest room on the third floor as your workshop…”

“So, should I hand over my phone and laptop too? Report everywhere I go and everyone I contact?” Luo Xuan pushed aside the steamed egg custard, crossed her arms, and stared unblinkingly at the vine-patterned soft pillow.

Ning Yiqing frowned. The emotions that had been teetering on the edge of collapse finally settled into calm after Luo Xuan returned.

As long as she was by his side, everything would be alright.

“Xiao Xuan, I’m not trying to monitor you. Chi Li is your good friend, right? You can invite her over to play in a few days.”

Luo Xuan almost scoffed in refusal. *Was he suggesting she invite Chi Li to witness her gilded cage existence?*

But then she reconsidered. She needed to maintain contact with the outside world.

She wanted to breathe freely, not spend her remaining days—whether they were one, two, or several months—clinging to the last shreds of her pitiful freedom.

Nodding, Luo Xuan pressed, “Can I invite Wanwan and Song Yanshi over too?”

“No, they’re Omegas.”

“Chi Li is also an Omega,” Luo Xuan said mockingly. “Why is it acceptable for her but not for others?”

Hearing Luo Xuan’s cold, sardonic laugh, Ning Yiqing pressed her lips together. She was still the same aloof, dignified woman—a queen in bearing—yet in that moment, she appeared haggard and weary, her perfect facade revealing a beauty born of flaws.

“They…” Ning Yiqing began, but the burning jealousy left her speechless.

“President Ning, I truly don’t need your explanations or self-justifications. I’m not interested in what you think, how you made your decision, whether you regret it, or what your motives are.” Luo Xuan rose, deftly sidestepping Ning Yiqing, a metallic sweetness rising in her throat.

A nobody like her was destined to be molded and manipulated by others.

In the torrential rain that day, Ning Yiqing had unexpectedly declared her love, yet insisted she would still marry Luo Wei.

Like a fool, Luo Xuan had no escape, no retreat, no refuge from abandonment.

Now, she found herself trapped once more.

It seemed her fate was to be cornered, destined to stand alone, backed against the wall by all sides.

She was just a small animal, unaware of her fate. Ironically, despite her short lifespan, she couldn’t even taste a moment of freedom.

The wind lifted Luo Xuan’s long, silvery-white hair, finally revealing to Ning Yiqing the raw, delicate nape of her neck, marred by a grotesque wound.

Like a fallen cyan butterfly—light, ethereal, transparent—yet already withered.

A bitter ache churned in Ning Yiqing’s chest.

“Xiao Xuan, the doctor will give you an IV and examine you at seven tomorrow morning. Get some rest.”

Luo Xuan didn’t bother responding. A heavy weight pressed on her chest, whether from her illness or the sorrow of revisiting this place, she couldn’t tell.

Love had once been sacred and beautiful to her. She had loved Ning Yiqing with sacrificial devotion, throwing herself into it without reservation, as if the woman were her deity, her faith. She had served her wholeheartedly, believing in her completely.

In the end, she had fallen.

Not the deity’s fall, but her own.

The bedroom remained unchanged, except for the addition of new medical equipment.

Miss Nurse, with a serene smile, expertly set up the monitoring devices to track Luo Xuan’s vital signs.

“Miss Luo Xuan, I’m staying next door. If you need anything, just press the call button by the bed, and I’ll be right over.”

“Thank you,” Luo Xuan said, trying to smile, but only feeling a stiff awkwardness.

Miss Nurse didn’t say much more. She closed the door and stepped back, just in time to see Ning Yiqing standing by the window, idly playing with a silver antique pocket watch.

“Chairman Ning, Miss Luo Xuan’s condition has stabilized for now. You can rest assured.”

“Thank you for your hard work,” Ning Yiqing said politely, closing the pocket watch. “Just stay attentive during your shift.”

He turned back to gaze at the late spring moon.

The frosty moonlight fell on the woman’s half-closed, narrow, and deep-set eyelids, making her look like a quietly blooming white sandalwood flower.

“Of course, you can count on me.”

That night, Luo Xuan couldn’t fall asleep in the unfamiliar, uncomfortable environment. Her eyes were tightly shut, her palms pressed down and crossed over her lower abdomen, lying still as if in a coffin.

The window was open at a precise forty-five-degree angle, the amount of air allowed in carefully calculated to avoid making the room too cold or stuffy. Instead, it stirred the moon-white curtains just right.

A small nightlight cast a tranquil glow from beneath the bed. The cherry wood door creaked open, and Luo Xuan could distinctly smell the swaying scent of white sandalwood in the breeze.

Like morning mist swirling around a mountain peak, it exuded order and nobility, looking down upon all living things.

It was past 2 a.m. By her usual schedule, Ning Yiqing should have been asleep, preparing for the myriad corporate matters awaiting her approval the next day.

Yet the woman moved softly into her ex-wife’s bedroom, careful not to wake her, yet gazing with an almost obsessive intensity.

Even with her eyes closed, Luo Xuan’s face remained impassive. Her long, thick lashes cast fan-shaped shadows across her cheeks, the creases at the corners of her double eyelids curving upward like wings, and her pale lips were clear and full.

But those once bright, clear eyes now held no trace of warmth or laughter for Ning Yiqing.

The entire encounter lasted barely three minutes. The bedroom air was warm, as if this were just another ordinary night, no different from the past.

As Luo Xuan opened her eyes and watched the woman’s retreating figure, she couldn’t help but wonder if Ning Yiqing was clinging to this illusion, deceiving herself into believing things could still be the same.

But after a moment of stunned silence, Luo Xuan could only sense the rigid discipline etched into Ning Yiqing’s very bones—even when stealing a glance, she adhered to a strict three-minute limit, not a second more, not a second less.

She didn’t resemble a thief at all, but rather a deity come to pass judgment, stubbornly searching in the darkness for emotions that had long since vanished.

The following morning, the three specialists gathered in another building adjacent to the villa, where the medical equipment was even more comprehensive, resembling a small hospital.

Following the doctor’s instructions, Luo Xuan had bl00d drawn, underwent lab tests, and had a CT scan. Finally, the doctor presented several conservative treatment options.

Ning Yiqing didn’t rush to the office as usual but remained by Luo Xuan’s side, occasionally handling business calls. Her jade-like face maintained its usual composure and elegance.

“Have you had any major surgeries before?” the white-bearded chief physician asked.

Pressing a disinfectant swab against the bl00d draw site, Luo Xuan leaned weakly against the chair, slightly breathless. Her silver hair draped loosely over her flushed eyelids, casual and unconcerned.

“Yes, to remove a permanent mark,” she replied.

The doctor glanced involuntarily at Ning Yiqing before clearing his throat. “Your glands are congenitally underdeveloped. Anesthesia would be difficult to administer and could cause significant harm to your body. You shouldn’t have been so reckless. This is why we recommend conservative treatment.”

“The surgery was successful, without anesthesia,” Luo Xuan said.

“No anesthesia?” The Old Doctor gripped his pen in shock, accidentally scratching through the diagnosis form and having to replace it.

The scent gland is one of the most vulnerable and sensitive organs on an Alpha’s body. Even a casual touch, let alone surgery, would cause unbearable pain.

“Mm, I couldn’t wait to remove the permanent mark, so I didn’t mind.”

The Old Doctor’s hand trembled slightly as he wrote the prescription.

Sunlight filtered through thin clouds, casting tiger-striped patterns through the blinds. Ning Yiqing returned from her phone call just in time to overhear Luo Xuan’s words.

She stood frozen, staring at the silent, beautiful girl, never imagining Luo Xuan could be so… resolute.

She could almost picture the pale, frail girl lying helplessly on the white operating table, her heterochromatic golden-green eyes as still as a stagnant pool.

Around her, only the sterile scent of disinfectant and white coats filled the air, the surgical knife gleaming with a mirror-like clarity.

Warm bl00d flowed slowly as soft flesh was repeatedly cut, torn, and healed, only to be broken again, transforming into… that ferocious yet beautiful azure butterfly.

After the examination, Luo Xuan stood up, dizzy and disoriented. She saw Ning Yiqing’s dark eyes and smiled faintly as she slowly walked past him.

“Xiao Xuan, why?” the woman’s voice rasped.

The world blurred before Luo Xuan’s eyes as she felt her life slipping away. She looked up and saw only the rust-colored ceiling, realizing she might never feel the warmth of the sun again.

“Why what?”

“Why did you undergo the surgery alone to remove my permanent mark?”

At this, Luo Xuan’s smile finally lost its stiffness, gaining a hint of genuine brightness.

“You’ve forgotten. Even if I hadn’t removed it, you would have washed it away eventually. Rather than wait for the inevitable, I decided to give you a wedding gift—eternal peace of mind.”

After that, Luo Xuan’s health fluctuated wildly. Sometimes she burned with fever and coughed up bl00d; other times, she was brimming with energy.

Ning Yiqing often came to dine with her, but their meals were mostly silent.

Later, to avoid seeing him, Luo Xuan began spending long stretches confined to her room.

As a result, even though they lived under the same roof, the two rarely saw each other more than four times a month.

Perhaps the woman’s patience had reached its limit. Ning Yiqing chose a day to take Luo Xuan to another estate.

“I’ve arranged to meet Xiao Li today,” Luo Xuan said, her voice flat and her lips pale. “She’s back from working in the mountains, and we’re going to have dinner alone to catch up.”

Upon hearing the word “alone,” Ning Yiqing’s breathing slowed. After a moment, she replied evenly, “Alright.”

For some reason, a restless anxiety welled up in her heart. She felt the sense of loss growing clearer, etching itself into her very bones, about to become reality.

“I’ll send a car to pick up Chi Li,” Ning Yiqing said, trying to suppress her inexplicable unease, her expression gentle. “You two decide what you want to eat.”

“Thank you.”

At that moment, they entered a small aquarium. Through a thirty-meter-wide viewing window, the deep blue seawater lay silent and still. A solitary blacktip reef shark glided through the vibrant coral reefs.

“You built an aquarium?” Luo Xuan murmured, staring at the cold glass.

“Mm, Xiao Xuan, once your condition stabilizes a bit, I’ll take you to see the sea.”

“Take me to see the sea?” Luo Xuan chuckled softly, suddenly realizing that Ning Yiqing, for all his aloofness, had a romantic side after all.

*Taking me to the sea before marrying Luo Wei, fulfilling my wish to see it.*

*Giving a dying person a lavish last meal—so thoughtful.*

“Yes, we’ll go together. I promise.”

Her expression was gentle yet resolute, as if she were reciting an ancient vow.

“So you’re giving me a captive sea first, to show me I can’t escape, is that it?” Luo Xuan leaned closer to the azure viewing window, her voice certain, as if she didn’t need Ning Yiqing’s confirmation.

Ning Yiqing’s brows furrowed slightly, and she gazed at Luo Xuan with a bitter smile. The seawater was icy blue, and the girl’s frail silhouette seemed to dissolve into the mist, as if she might vanish with the next wave.

*I’m losing my grip.*

By the time Chi Li arrived, the initial excitement and anticipation had faded from her face, replaced by worry that lingered in the corners of her eyes.

The estate butler guided Chi Li past the koi pond with its black rock formations and the cascading waterfall curtain.

His voice was deep and steady.

“Miss Chi, the open-air living room on the second floor is ready. We’ve prepared mulled wine with cinnamon, rose, apple, and lychee, along with your favorite sourdough bread and creamy mushroom soup as appetizers. Please watch your step on the stairs.”

Chi Li was surprised by Ning Yiqing’s meticulous attention to her preferences. She frowned slightly, feeling uneasy, as if Ning Yiqing had woven a dense web around Luo Xuan, every move monitored by the woman’s watchful gaze.

A chill ran through her. Chi Li asked softly, “Xuanxuan, *cough*, does Luo Xuan eat the same as me?”

“No, Miss Luo Xuan’s meals are specially tailored by a nutritionist due to her health condition. She has a customized menu for appetizers, main courses, and desserts.”

At the end of the second-floor corridor, the butler pushed open the walnut door, bowed slightly, and gestured for Chi Li to enter.

In the open-air living room, white sofas were arranged around a calming aromatherapy diffuser. The last rays of sunset dipped toward the horizon, casting an orange glow on Luo Xuan.

It was as if she were enveloped in a warm, beautiful cocoon.

*Spiderweb restraints.*

For some reason, those four words were all Chi Li could think of.

“Xuanxuan,” Chi Li murmured, slowly approaching Luo Xuan. Seeing her friend’s thinner frame, she whispered, “Didn’t you say you could take care of yourself?”

“Sit down, Xiao Li. If I hadn’t said that, would you have been able to focus on work?” Luo Xuan replied, ignoring the pain in her body. Her pale lips parted slightly. “Besides, I’m doing alright now.”

“Alright?” Chi Li slammed her hand on the table, leaping to her feet. Her fair face flushed crimson, nearly knocking over the glass of mulled wine. “Sister Zhiwan said she couldn’t reach you and was frantic! If I’d had signal in the mountains, I would have stormed over here already.”

Luo Xuan smiled genuinely, her eyes sparkling. Combined with her slightly reddened nose and tear-rimmed eyes, she possessed a fragile, almost ethereal beauty.

“I know. Now, sit down and eat properly. It’s all your favorites.”

“Did you tell President Ning about my preferences and dietary restrictions?”

Luo Xuan lowered her gaze and shook her head, a misty sheen gathering in her exquisite eyes.

“She’s truly… truly flawless. So thoughtful and meticulous. Anyone would think she actually cares about you,” Chi Li said with a mocking laugh. “What’s she planning now?”

President Ning had gone to great lengths to arrange this thoughtful dinner, all because Chi Li was Luo Xuan’s friend.

On the surface, it seemed perfect, flawless. Yet this was the same woman who had ruthlessly abandoned Luo Xuan.

Because Luo Xuan didn’t have long to live, she had married.

Because Luo Xuan didn’t have long to live, there was no need to reveal the truth about the marriage.

Did a short life mean she deserved to be betrayed and deceived?

Seeing the tears in Chi Li’s eyes, Luo Xuan softly comforted her, “Don’t cry. Look, I’m not even crying. It’s not a big deal. She couldn’t have done any more.”

Chi Li fell silent, then grasped Luo Xuan’s ice-cold hand.

After a long pause, she said, “You can’t cry, so I’ll cry for you.”

“Xiao Li,” Luo Xuan said, pausing between each sentence, “I told you, you need to be happy. If I only have a short time left, the more joy I find, the more I’ll have stolen from fate.”

Chi Li nodded through her tears, obediently sitting down to eat as Luo Xuan had asked.

Throughout the meal, Luo Xuan kept asking about Chi Li’s work experiences over the past few months.

“Once, we were filming in a mountain valley when fog rolled in. We were driving around, nearly sending the off-road vehicle off a cliff. We were only centimeters away from the edge, but thankfully the driver slammed on the brakes just in time.”

“And then there was that time I got swept into a stream. A flash flood was about to hit, and one of the Alphas on set risked everything to save me.”

Luo Xuan had been listening with rapt attention, but she suddenly put down her silver spoon and asked with a smile, “Did sparks fly between you two?”

“Absolutely not! She seemed like some kind of heiress from a wealthy family—way out of my league.”

Luo Xuan nodded. “I thought you wanted to work in our field of study. How did you end up making movies?”

“Oh, it was all just fate! You know I love photography. Someone noticed me, I gave it a shot, and I discovered how beautiful the world becomes when light and shadow combine with storytelling.”

As Chi Li rambled on about the fascinating aspects of filmmaking, the knot in Luo Xuan’s chest seemed to loosen.

“Hey, once you’re better, I’ll take you everywhere with me! There are so many towering trees and lush greenery out there. You can carve wherever you go,” Chi Li said through gritted teeth, her voice resolute. “You’re going to get better, I know it.”

“Mm, you’ll get better. When you do, you can take me all over the world, and we’ll film it all. When we’re old, we can look back on these memories together.”

Chi Li smiled along, using the pretense of getting food to glance around repeatedly, checking for anyone watching them from the shadows.

In the end, she couldn’t detect anything. She had to take a risk, moving swiftly and deftly like a kitten hiding a dried fish.

Afterward, she exchanged a knowing smile with Luo Xuan.

The meal lasted three hours, and Ning Yiqing kept her word, not appearing to disturb them.

As they left the open-air living room, Luo Xuan insisted on walking Chi Li downstairs. Though the butler looked uneasy, he pondered for a moment before yielding to Luo Xuan’s wishes.

At the bottom of the stairs, just as they were about to part, Chi Li grabbed Luo Xuan’s arm and whispered, “Sister Zhiwan is really worried about you. Can you contact her?”

The night was like a tide, warm and humid air drifting in. Wrought-iron streetlamps flickered brightly along the path.

“Tell Wanwan I’m doing well and miss her terribly. I don’t know how she’s doing, but I’ll definitely find her in a few days. Tell her not to worry.”

“Oh, and Xuanxuan,” Chi Li added, glancing meaningfully at Luo Xuan, “don’t forget about that thing. You need to use it.”

“I know,” Luo Xuan replied, understanding that Chi Li was referring to the phone she had hidden on the rooftop earlier.

It was currently the only communication device not being monitored by Ning Yiqing.

“Okay, I… I’m leaving now,” Chi Li said reluctantly, her eyes lingering on Luo Xuan. She couldn’t resist adding, “Remember, you have to remember—I’ll come see you again. Sister Zhiwan is really worried about you too.”

“Alright, I understand. I’ll find you and Sister Zhiwan. Don’t worry.”

Just then, Chi Li turned and was startled to see Ning Yiqing approaching from around the corner. His lapels were damp with dew, as if he had been standing somewhere for a long time, his every movement exuding a weary, noble air.

Like moonlight permeating transparent sorrow.

Chi Li couldn’t tell if Ning Yiqing had witnessed every word and gesture between her and Luo Xuan.

“Xiao Xuan, who are you planning to go see?”