Willing to Be for Her - Chapter 32

The forty-second-floor office fell silent as a warm breeze swept in, scattering the dandelions on the desk. Their white parachutes drifted like a light snowfall.

Lan Leren, clutching the package nervously, cleared her throat and said, “Xia En Private Hospital called to report that Miss Luo Xuan suddenly fell ill today and… and passed away. This package was urgently delivered to you this morning.”

In the late spring afternoon, the sunlight blazed brightly, making one’s eyes dizzy.

Ning Yiqing mechanically watched Lan Leren open the package, completely unaware that the nail on her right index finger, clenched against the desk corner, had broken, seeping tiny droplets of crimson like bl00d staining white jade.

As the package gradually opened, it revealed two Star bracelets, each adorned with a gemstone—one gold, the other green—simple yet dazzling.

There was also a note inside. Lan Leren caught a glimpse of the words: *I don’t want the potted plant anymore, so we’re even.*

She immediately fell silent, slowly backing away, trying to make herself as inconspicuous as possible.

Though the woman’s expression and demeanor remained unchanged, even appearing calm and detached.

Like damp, magnificent fireworks, a violent blaze surged within her, only to be extinguished silently before it could bloom, like a soaring, tragic aria cut short.

“Le Ran,” Ning Yiqing said, calmly returning her Montblanc pen to its holder. Apart from the pallor of her lips, she remained composed and serene.

Lan Leren froze mid-retreat, forcing herself to speak:

“President Ning, should we cancel the 4 PM meeting? And perhaps you should take a short break.”

No response came. Time seemed to slow as Ning Yiqing gazed serenely at the dandelions.

“President Ning, do you need some time alone? I’ll leave you to it,” Lan Leren said, understanding that most people needed private space to process grief. Ning Yiqing was no exception.

“No need.”

“What? No need for what?”

*No need to cancel the meeting? Or no need for time alone?*

Lan Leren felt bewildered, firing off questions like machine-gun fire.

“Neither,” Ning Yiqing replied.

“Prepare the car,” she said, her eyes closing. “I’m going to see Xiao Xuan.”

“Right away, President Ning. I’ll have the car ready immediately.” Lan Leren was about to ask if Ning Yiqing needed anything else when she noticed the woman’s dazed expression. Her pale fingertips brushed against the baby’s breath flowers, as if futilely trying to grasp something fading away, vanishing into the distance.

The floors and walls of the private hospital gleamed like new. Medical staff moved with practiced efficiency through the pale blue corridors, where the faint scent of flowers masked the harsh smell of disinfectant.

This place hardly felt like a hospital; it resembled a meticulously arranged flower shop more than anything else.

Rushing out in haste, Ning Yiqing hadn’t bothered with a suit jacket. Her simple, pristine white silk blouse clung to her slender figure, accentuating her graceful curves.

Xia Zhiwan stood with her arms crossed, leaning against the wall, watching Ning Yiqing approach. The chill radiating from the woman seemed to penetrate even the silk blouse, filling the entire space.

“Miss Xia, I want to see Xiao Xuan,” Ning Yiqing said, her voice gentle and composed, betraying no hint of emotion.

“You’re too late. You missed your chance. We notified you this morning, but you were in a meeting,” Xia Zhiwan pointed out objectively, letting out a soft sigh.

“Where is she?” Ning Yiqing’s expression flickered between confusion and steely resolve. “I need to see her.”

“You can’t see her anymore,” Xia Zhiwan said softly, as if guiding a lost traveler. “But Luo Xuan doesn’t need you now. She was happy when she left. Isn’t that enough?”

Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Ning Yiqing felt her breath catch in her throat, her face pale, yet her lips gradually flushed crimson, as if she were terminally ill—a cloudlike, ethereal beauty.

“President Ning, this place is beneath you. We all know you’ve deigned to visit Xuanxuan out of the kindness of your heart, and I’m sure her spirit in heaven will be grateful.”

*Her spirit in heaven?*

Before, she had always viewed death as a natural, inevitable part of life—nothing to dwell on.

But she had never imagined death could be so cold. She wondered if Xiao Xuan was cold, if she felt lonely in the silence.

If she was… utterly despairing.

“Xiao Xuan is really…” The words seemed too cruel to utter, and Ning Yiqing could only fall silent.

“Really gone. You knew about her illness—the torment of both body and mind. After the surgery, her condition only fluctuated between good days and bad. You shouldn’t be surprised.” Xia Zhiwan smiled with a hint of mockery. “I thought you, like the Luo family, would welcome this outcome.”

Ning Yiqing forced her voice to remain steady and calm, showing no emotional reaction to Xia Zhiwan’s words. “Rumors are silenced by wisdom. Besides… I’m not as heartless as you think.”

Xia Zhiwan thought she saw a flicker of shattered emotion in Ning Yiqing’s eyes, but it vanished in an instant, so fleeting it might have been an illusion.

*This woman probably isn’t truly grieving,* she thought. *After all, it was just Luo Xuan.*

To a select few in the world, Luo Xuan mattered deeply, but to most, she was a complete unknown.

Ning Yiqing had never truly understood Luo Xuan. How could she possibly have the right to genuinely mourn her?

“Only your future wife will truly know what kind of person Chairman Ning is,” Xia Zhiwan said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “We mere mortals can only glimpse a fraction of the truth, ultimately making fools of ourselves. Oh, by the way, the Luo family came earlier. They left quickly, as if afraid of being tainted by bad luck.”

Xia Zhiwan knew she shouldn’t be so bitter, but she couldn’t help herself.

Luo Xuan, that rebellious child, had dared to love and hate fiercely, capable of forgiving grudges with a smile and indifferent to Ning Yiqing’s presence.

Xia Zhiwan couldn’t do that. She wanted to see Ning Yiqing suffer.

But even death couldn’t stir Ning Yiqing’s emotions. What could possibly matter to this woman?

“Then please leave,” Xia Zhiwan said. “Don’t come back. Xuanxuan wouldn’t want to see you.”

As the woman turned, her movements were smooth and graceful, yet with a barely perceptible stiffness.

Xia Zhiwan watched with cold, hard eyes. Suddenly, she caught a glimpse of the woman’s pale profile through her ink-black hair, like a clear moon reflected in water-soaked ink.

“They weren’t Xiao Xuan’s real family,” Xia Zhiwan said.

“But neither were you. You’re no different from the Luo family,” Xia Zhiwan replied softly.

“Miss Xia, is there truly no chance for me to see Xiao Xuan one last time?”

Xia Zhiwan couldn’t discern the expression in the woman’s eyes, but she could hear the strained, even withered tone in her voice.

“No. Before she left, she said you two would never meet again, in life or death.”

This wasn’t entirely a fabrication. Last night, Luo Xuan, her face pale, had murmured, “If I’m lucky, I’ll never see her again, not even in death.”

“I want to see her, dead or alive,” Ning Yiqing said, her knuckles turning white from gripping the armrest.

“Then go to the crematorium. If you’re lucky, you might still see her ashes.” Xia Zhiwan’s lips curled into a cruel smile. “I’ll send you the address.”

“Thank you.”

With those two words, the woman’s slender, stiff figure retreated like a beautiful statue.

In the car, Ning Yiqing wiped her hands with a hot towel and stared at the detective novel before her, its pages remaining unturned.

“Le Ran, have someone investigate the vehicle traffic at Xia En Private Hospital today.”

Lan Leren frowned. “President Ning, are you worried Miss Xia might be up to something? That hospital is known for its strict confidentiality.”

“Xiao Xuan would never leave so easily. She’s waiting for me. She wouldn’t… she wouldn’t.”

“Do you mean Miss Luo Xuan faked her death to escape you?”

Realizing she had spoken out of turn, Lan Leren quickly fell silent. But the woman didn’t pursue the matter, instead closing her eyes wearily, looking utterly vulnerable.

*So, whenever Luo Xuan is involved, President Ning loses her composure.*

*Perhaps President Ning isn’t as cold-blooded and heartless as everyone believes.*

It seemed her understanding of Ning Yiqing remained superficial, like the tip of an iceberg. And perhaps everyone else’s understanding was no different.

“Also, have Yixin come see me.”

Lan Leren paused, startled. “You mean the Second Miss?”

She knew Ning Yixin had recently returned and was busy enjoying herself. Was President Ning asking her younger sister to help find Luo Xuan?

“Yes, have her come to the office.”

By the time Ning Yixin arrived, Ning Yiqing had just received the crematorium address from Xia Zhiwan. The young Alpha rushed into the office and whispered softly:

“Sister, I just came from home. Grandpa said he’s coming to the company for a meeting and wants you to be prepared.”

“Tell Grandpa I don’t have time,” Ning Yiqing replied without hesitation, her voice faint but resolute.

“But… it seems like a very important meeting,” Ning Yixin said softly, approaching the desk. “It’s about board appointments and major decisions. As Executive Director, you need to be there.”

“I have more important matters right now. Tell them to reschedule,” Ning Yiqing said, her lips pale and her face as cold as frost, though the corners of her eyes were red.

As if suddenly realizing something, Ning Yixin murmured, “Sister, I’m… so sorry for your loss. Please don’t exhaust yourself.”

“Yixin, do you believe Xiao Xuan is really gone?”

Ning Yixin’s heart pounded like a drum. After a long pause, she slowly replied, “Does death have degrees of truth? Luo Xuan doesn’t strike me as someone who would joke about death. Her works are full of strength—the strength to resist death. She wouldn’t compromise with death so easily.”

“Wouldn’t compromise easily?” Ning Yiqing unconsciously crumpled the documents in her hand.

“Yes, Sister. You should know her better than anyone, right?”

The words pierced Ning Yiqing’s heart like a dagger. Her breath caught in her throat. After a long moment, her dark eyes clouded over as she murmured, “I have to go out for a while.”

“Sister, where are you going?” Ning Yixin asked anxiously, grabbing her arm, her palms slightly sweaty.

“I’m going to check on Xiao Xuan. I don’t know if she’s cold.”

“You… you can’t just abandon the company,” Ning Yixin blurted out, her voice strained. Catching a glimpse of the pain in her sister’s eyes, she gritted her teeth and continued, “The company can’t function without Ning Yi Qing. Sister, why don’t I go in your place? I’ll keep you updated on everything.”

Ning Yi Qing shook her head. “No, I need to go myself…”

The office door was pushed open by Old Master Ning’s bodyguard. The old man entered, leaning heavily on his silver-tipped cane. “Yi Qing, you can’t miss the meeting,” he declared. “Take the Eldest Miss to the conference room.”

“Sister, focus on the meeting. I’ll check on her for you,” Ning Yixin said, her voice louder than usual, betraying her guilt.

“Grandpa, I have urgent matters to attend to.”

“What could be more important than the company?” Old Master Ning snapped, waving his cane around. “Even when your father was on the brink of death during his surgery, I still held down the fort here.”

“Sister, go to the meeting. I’ll check on her for you. Don’t you trust me?” Ning Yixin hardened her resolve, pulled the dazed Ning Yi Qing toward the conference room, and then slipped away.

Sister Zhou, who was in charge of meals, had been simmering a nourishing tonic soup all afternoon, using medicinal herbs like codonopsis, angelica, and poria cocos.

The old clay pot simmered gently over a low flame, its clear broth bubbling softly beneath the lid. The muffled sounds of the simmering soup filled the quiet night air with a sense of tranquility.

Sister Zhou quietly approached Lan Leren for instructions. “The Eldest Miss has returned exhausted from a long day. Shouldn’t we serve dinner soon? This soup is at its most nourishing right now.”

Lan Leren considered the situation. Seeing that it was already late, she knew they couldn’t delay any longer. After Ning Yiqing had finished giving instructions to Ning Yixin that afternoon, she had remained in her room for the past two or three hours without emerging.

Reaching the second floor, Lan Leren knocked with deliberate restraint. This was the first time she had encountered such a situation, and she spoke with utmost respect:

“President Ning, it’s almost eight o’clock. Would you like to come out for dinner?”

After a moment, Ning Yiqing’s voice came softly, “Yes, I’ll be right there.”

Lan Leren finally breathed a sigh of relief. Ning Yiqing remained the same punctual, orderly person she had always been, maintaining her regular routine and avoiding any unusual behavior.

Since joining the company at age 18, Ning Yiqing had spent every New Year’s Eve at the office for the past six or seven years, personally greeting and comforting the employees.

Ning Yiqing worked tirelessly year-round, fulfilling her responsibilities as heir to the utmost.

On the cloud-patterned tablecloth, a bowl of clear, nourishing soup sat at the center, its fragrant aroma filling the air.

Sister Zhou was an exceptional cook, renowned for her medicinal congee and soups. She simmered them to perfection, their fragrant steam carrying away the bitter taste of the herbs.

Ning Yiqing took a small sip with a porcelain spoon and praised softly, “Very good. Thank you for your hard work. Get some rest.”

Normally, managing the kitchen and meals wouldn’t be considered strenuous work. The staff were expected to remain on standby during the family’s meals.

However, Ning Yiqing had always treated her staff with kindness and generosity, imposing no unnecessary rules or demands. She simply preferred things to be clean, elegant, and understated.

Noticing Ning Yiqing’s pale complexion, Sister Zhou clasped her hands and ventured, “Eldest Miss, please eat more. You’ve lost so much weight.”

After a pause, Ning Yiqing replied with a soft “Alright.” The room fell silent again as she slowly ate, savoring each sip of soup, each bite of food, and every grain of rice. Even this simple act was performed with meticulous care, almost a pleasure to watch.

Around 2 or 3 a.m., Ning Yixin and Lan Leren returned. The tea in the living room had gone cold, and Ning Yiqing hadn’t touched it.

Ning Yixin frowned and approached, whispering,

“Sister, Le Ran and I have been searching for a long time. Le Ran was responsible for searching Capital City, while I checked vehicles and flights leaving the city. I haven’t found any suspicious vehicles or flights, and Luo Xuan’s bank cards and passport haven’t been used either.”

She was truly terrified this time. Despite having friends forge fake documents and even showing them to Ning Yiqing, her sister remained stubbornly fixated on the “dead body or nothing” mentality, refusing to believe anything else.

What else could she do but brace herself and carry on? Having accepted the task, she had to see it through. One wrong decision had forced her to deceive even her own sister.

But now, seeing the woman’s devastated state, Ning Yixin’s resolve began to waver. She wondered if her interference had been the right thing to do after all.

In truth, she had attended several heir training courses that emphasized the ruthless logic of the business world. Ning Yixin had always admired her sister’s decisive and unwavering approach, viewing her as a model of cold, calculated efficiency.

Yet now, gazing at the woman’s sorrowful and heartbroken expression, Ning Yixin’s perception began to crumble. She realized her sister had another side—one that didn’t treat everything as a calculated investment, where life and death mattered less than the hope of Luo Xuan turning back.

It seemed to evoke a deep-seated resolve within her heart, a determination that would never waver.

Realizing she might be too influenced by Ning Yiqing’s emotions, Ning Yixin gasped for breath like someone drowning and subtly signaled to Lan Leren that it was her turn.

“President Ning, we’ve deployed fifty personnel to search for Miss Luo Xuan throughout the city. We’ve also reviewed the hospital’s surveillance footage. Only our vehicles entered and exited that day, and there’s no sign of Miss Luo Xuan anywhere.”

Lan Leren observed the woman’s expression. Her excessively pale cheeks were flushed with an unnatural crimson, like a mountain fruit clinging precariously to its branch, its verdant freshness threatening to be swept off the cliff by a single gust of wind.

The elegant living room was silent, bathed in the soft glow of a brass floor lamp.

Finally, Ning Yixin couldn’t bear the tension any longer and concluded, “Sister, Luo Xuan… she’s really gone. The hospital and crematorium have both issued certificates. You need to accept this fact gradually and not dwell so deeply in your emotions. The dead cannot be brought back to life.”

Suddenly, the woman, who had been staring down in silence, lifted her gaze, revealing eyes hollow and desolate.

Ning Yixin met Ning Yiqing’s gaze, her heart trembling inexplicably. The woman’s eyes flickered with detachment, indifference, exhaustion, mania, and despair, leaving Yixin breathless and gasping for air.

“Continue the search. Search the hospital again. Check the airports, ports, and roads—everywhere.”

Ning Yixin lowered her head, avoiding her sister’s gaze, her heart heavy with guilt. “Sister, let it go. In a few days, we’ll lay a flower at Luoxuan Tomb and wish peace to the departed.”

“Peace to the departed,” Ning Yiqing repeated slowly, her words strained and labored, a stark contrast to her usual graceful cadence.

“Yes,” Ning Yixin replied, her clear, pretty face hardening with resolve. “Sister, please accept this tragedy. Life must go on. You’ll have a new life, a new future, a new marriage.”

Subconsciously ignoring the sharp pain in her chest, Ning Yiqing forced herself to breathe deeply, nodding faintly. “A new life.”

She suddenly smiled, a brittle, hollow expression. “A new future, a new marriage? It sounds wonderful.”

“Yes, everything will be alright,” Ning Yixin said cautiously, stepping forward and gently patting Ning Yiqing’s thin shoulder, fearing the woman might do something irrational. To her surprise, she felt a patch of scorching heat.

“Sister, you have a fever?” she asked, her voice tinged with panic. She immediately turned to Lan Leren. “Call the family doctor right away.”

Half-supporting Ning Yiqing, Ning Yixin led her upstairs to the bedroom. She hastily laid her on the bed, noticing the woman’s vacant gaze and crimson lips hidden beneath her long, dark hair. Ning Yiqing remained silent, neither fully conscious nor completely unconscious.

“Sister, are you… are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Ning Yiqing replied, turning to hug the quilt. “Just tired.”

“Alright, then rest. The doctor will be here soon,” Ning Yixin said, quickly fleeing the place where her conscience was being tormented.

Outside the door, Lan Leren anxiously waited for the doctor to arrive. When Ning Yixin emerged, he immediately asked, “How is she?”

“Maybe she’s just been too stressed lately?” Ning Yixin shrugged. “I heard she’s been working on that project with Qin Shiyi, attending five meetings a day and still having to handle paperwork late into the night.”

“But… never mind. I don’t know the details either. Let’s just take good care of her.”

“Mm, I’m sure my sister will be fine,” Ning Yixin said, her brow furrowed with worry, as if some immense weight pressed down on her heart.

She recalled Luo Xuan’s words to her: “Don’t worry, Ning Yi Qing will definitely be alright. Yixin, you’ll live to be a hundred and witness his happiness.”

Ning Yixin turned to look at the woman lying on the bed, her eyes unfocused. The questions in her heart swelled endlessly. Could her sister truly find happiness?

Three days passed in a blur. Ning Yi Qing drifted in and out of consciousness, her dreams blurring into a chaotic jumble of time. One moment, she seemed to relive the night of her kidnapping, struggling to escape and encountering a bl00d-soaked teenage Luo Xuan.

The next, she was back in that hazy, sensual night, being possessed without restraint. Her body was sucked, bitten, entwined, and left tingling, damp, and marked with Luo Xuan’s essence.

For a moment, she was back on the night they went to see the sea together, seeing the hope in Luo Xuan’s eyes turn to utter disappointment.

The scene shifted. A pair of slender, calloused fingers extended a report.

Patient Luo Xuan has completed the glandular function elimination surgery. The permanent mark will be permanently removed.

Her heart clenched. The woman lowered her gaze, reaching out to grasp that hand, but found only emptiness.

Everything dissolved again.

The only constant was that pair of heterochromatic eyes, shimmering like starlight.

The owner of those eyes looked at Ning Yiqing and whispered, “The *xuan* in Luo Xuan’s name means ‘hanging by a thread.'”

“Ning Yiqing, thank you.”

“Ning Yiqing, I’ve returned your purity. May your wishes be fulfilled.”

*Wishes… fulfilled?*

What exactly had she wished for, and what had she repaid?

Had she traded something precious for this so-called power?

Perhaps all she had gained was emptiness and nothingness.

What kind of fool would agree to such a bargain?

After returning from a business trip, Qin Shiyi noticed Ning Yiqing hadn’t been to work for five or six days straight. Frantic with worry, she rushed to the garden villa to find him herself.

The iron gate swung open, and she raced through the villa, searching every room. When she couldn’t find him, Sister Zhou, who had come to serve tea, casually mentioned he might be taking a walk in the garden.

Shiyi hurried outside to search the grounds.

The humidity was at its peak between late spring and early summer. In the lush, flower-filled garden, a misty haze hung in the air, lending an ethereal glow to the golden irises, areca palms, and tulips. The vibrant blooms seemed to radiate with life through the misty veil.

When Shiyi finally found Ning Yiqing, he was standing alone beneath a cherry tree. His long, ink-black hair flowed like smoke, and moonlight filtered through the verdant branches, resembling layers of melting frost.

His face, still pale from his recent illness, appeared almost translucent in the moonlight, as if he were barely there.

As Shiyi approached, she noticed a cigarette between his pale fingers. The heavy humidity made it seem like the cigarette had burned down to the filter.

It looked like a cherry-flavored cigarette.

She had never seen Ning Yiqing smoke before, and the sight surprised her.

“Shiyi, is that you?” Ning Yiqing asked without turning around.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you alright? Is your illness getting better?”

Shiyi couldn’t believe how the once naturally elegant and refined man now seemed so frail she almost couldn’t bear to look at him. It was as if something had been shattered within him.

“I’m fine. They’re just overreacting.”

The woman lowered her gaze and smiled, knowing she had likely startled her friend.

Lately, she felt trapped in a transparent bubble, barely hearing sounds or seeing things clearly. It was as if the world had suddenly receded from her.

Nothing felt real.

Time had become erratic, sometimes stretching into what felt like minutes or hours, other times compressing into what seemed like decades.

“Why did you decide to smoke?”

“Just wanted to try it,” she said, removing her silver-rimmed glasses, revealing the faint mole at the corner of her eye.

“I heard you refused the arranged marriage Old Master Ning set up for you. He was furious at home, stomping his feet and shouting that you’d gone too far, daring to say you won’t marry or have children?”

“Really? I don’t remember Grandpa being that angry,” Ning Yiqing murmured, her thoughts drifting. Her voice wavered, and she suddenly chuckled.

“Are you alright? I heard Luo Xuan has already…” Qin Shiyi whispered, but the woman interrupted her, speaking as if to herself.

“I will definitely marry and have children. Make no mistake about that.”

Qin Shiyi stared in disbelief, studying Ning Yiqing’s face. The woman’s pallor was so extreme she looked like a bloodless mannequin. “Yi Qing, do you even know who you’re talking to?”

“Those were the last words I ever spoke to Xiao Xuan,” Ning Yiqing said with a self-deprecating laugh, the corners of his eyes tinged red. “Why did it have to be those words?”

During their final moments together, they had either remained silent or exchanged cold, detached remarks. He had even resorted to such cruel words as a test.

Ning Yiqing obsessively replayed their memories frame by frame, recalling every detail with near-madness.

In the end, all that remained between them was that single, cruel, hateful, and utterly tragic sentence.

Why hadn’t he said more to Xiao Xuan? Why, in the end, had they glared at each other like enemies?

Qin Shiyi: “???”

This man was becoming increasingly fond of speaking in riddles. He started rambling to himself right away, acting strangely. Could the fever have addled his mind?

“I proposed that she become my mistress, my gilded cage. I would provide for her, ensuring she never lacked for food or clothing. Aside from the title, I could give her everything she desired: love, money, companionship, warmth.”

“You proposed that Luo Xuan become your mistress?” Qin Shiyi was stunned by Ning Yiqing’s shocking revelation. Overwhelmed, she nearly lost her ability to think.

“You heard me right. I considered… keeping Luo Xuan.”

“This isn’t something you’d say, absolutely not. It’s too… morally depraved, like something a low-class hoodlum would do. Have you been possessed?”

Qin Shiyi was so stunned she wanted to run laps in the pouring rain. In their social circle, the Ning Family was renowned as the most rigid and prestigious, bound by countless rules and traditions.

As the heir, Ning Yiqing was expected to uphold unwavering principles, maintain impeccable conduct, and remain free from any scandal—a beacon of virtue to be revered and admired.

Yet, behind the facade, their group indulged in celebrity affairs, promoted singers, frequented nightclubs, flaunted wealth, maintained multiple mistresses, and engaged in even more scandalous behavior.

Ning Yiqing, however, was different. She wasn’t merely constrained by family rules; she genuinely disdained the gaudy extravagance, hedonistic pleasures, and seductive allure of such a life.

Qin Shiyi couldn’t fathom how someone like her could propose taking a lover. Her heart pounded with dismay at Ning Yiqing’s selfish desire.

Ning Yiqing shook her head, a self-deprecating smile on her lips. “Hard to understand, isn’t it?”

Qin Shiyi nodded solemnly. “Your family has no such tradition. Even your parents only found new partners after their divorce. As the heir, Old Master Ning would never allow it… And you… you’re not that kind of person.”

Keeping mistresses, having affairs, and indulging in moral decay are all precursors to a family’s decline. In other words, families that tolerate such behavior are destined for short-lived prosperity.

The Ning Family, however, has always emphasized the sanctity of marriage and the responsibilities of family members. This is especially true for its heirs, who must uphold these deeply ingrained principles and admonitions.

“Shiyi, being a perpetually correct, flawless, and principled heir can be exhausting,” Ning Yiqing said, her voice tinged with weariness. “So exhausting that I sometimes yearn for baseness. Even a single moment of recklessness, of being incorrect, of indulging my whims—just to savor a fleeting moment of life—might allow me to touch the freedom Xiao Xuan wanted for me.”

Her carefully constructed order had completely collapsed, teetering on the brink of disintegration into utter chaos.

The woman tilted her head back, her hair cascading down her shoulders, strands scattering in the breeze as she gazed silently at the cherry tree. The humid air hung heavy above, blurring her features with sorrow.

“I just deeply regret that our last words to each other were like that,” Ning Yiqing murmured, pressing the cigarette between her lips and biting down on the cherry-flavored capsule. The bitter taste filled her mouth. “I’m such a cruel and heartless villain.”

“Don’t say that,” Qin Shiyi protested, at a loss for words. “You… you still have your whole life ahead of you. Luo Xuan is watching over you from above—no, she definitely wants you to be happy.”

“No, she doesn’t care anymore,” Ning Yiqing said with a bitter smile. “She doesn’t care whether I’m doing well or not.”

“I understand that perfectly, but sometimes I just want to lie to myself,” she added.

Qin Shiyi took a deep breath, a sudden, inexplicable ache in her heart. She recalled a line from a book she’d once read:

*Where there is love, there is torment; no one can escape it.*

“You understand, but…” Qin Shiyi hesitated, unable to find the words.

“There might really be no chance left. I can’t even see her again, not even to say one more word. A terrible mistake has been made, one that can never be undone in this lifetime.”

“Didn’t you consider remarrying Luo Xuan? Even though your initial marriage was a misunderstanding, a way to fill in for Luo Wei after her accident, you canceled your engagement. You should have waited, been more patient. You didn’t need to mention that… ‘lover’ arrangement, did you?”

“I did consider it, of course I did. The ‘lover’ contract—perhaps ninety percent of it was a test, but the remaining ten percent was genuine,” Ning Yiqing said, her fingertips pinching a cigarette as the Buddhist prayer beads hung loosely around her wrist.

“What kind of test?” Qin Shiyi felt her head spinning. “What sincerity?”

“Marrying me is simple, but being my Alpha is far from easy. Socializing, networking, maintaining a constant smile in public, and hypocritically upholding the facade of ‘dignity.’ I selfishly thought that all this talk of elegance, nobility, and propriety was just a burden. Perhaps if Xiao Xuan were just my kept woman, she would live a much more comfortable and free life.”

Qin Shiyi was shocked that Ning Yiqing had considered such terrifying and unspeakable thoughts.

As she listened to Ning Yiqing’s voice, it sounded so… sorrowful. Yet the woman’s face remained composed and regal, betraying no hint of sadness, not even a single tear.

She was as calm as an outsider.

Beneath the raven-blue night sky, the pale moonlight cast shadows through the trees. The gentle, weary sound of Ning Yiqing striking her lighter filled the air.

A flame flickered to life as Ning Yiqing cupped her hand to light a cigarette. The Buddhist prayer beads dangling from her wrist caught the pure light, illuminating her pale, exquisite face.

The scent of tobacco mingled with the crisp night air, swirling in moonlit ripples. The woman leaned sideways, her porcelain-white face bathed in the moon’s gentle glow.

“Actually, I never wanted to force her to stay. Letting her go might have been the right thing to do,” she said calmly, her eyes closed. “But… I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t bring myself to do what was right.”

“Why didn’t you hold onto her sooner?” Qin Shiyi’s voice turned hoarse as she wiped her eyes, her tone half fierce, half regretful.

“In the end, I’m just a selfish, self-righteous person,” Ning Yiqing said, taking a deep drag from her cigarette as if drawing strength from the smoke. “Always giving Xiao Xuan things she never wanted.”

Perhaps everything she had presumptuously given Luo Xuan—except for that day at the sea—was something Luo Xuan didn’t need.

Yet she hadn’t even managed to show Luo Xuan the sea, nor could she make her happy, grant her a long life, or even give her a gift she truly cherished.

Perhaps even “selfish” wasn’t enough to describe her own baseness and cowardice.

“You… The sage said, ‘Grief without despair.’ Take these few days to mourn, then slowly pull yourself together,” Qin Shiyi said, her head bowed. “If you keep her in your thoughts, she would be happy.”

In truth, Qin Shiyi suspected Luo Xuan would have preferred Ning Yiqing to forget her entirely.

The silver-haired girl had been a person of unwavering resolve and absolute sincerity, her boundaries between love and indifference as clear as day.

Once, Ning Yiqing had received all of Luo Xuan’s passionate love. Then… Luo Xuan had withdrawn it completely, leaving nothing behind.

“But when I wake in the middle of the night, I can’t believe Xiao Xuan is gone. She was such a romantic child, always longing for adventure. Maybe she’s just playing hooky somewhere.”

Qin Shiyi’s heart ached. She watched Ning Yiqing cough raggedly, tears welling in the corners of his crimson eyes.

Perhaps they were just tears from the smoke.

“Thank you for listening to me,” the woman said, stubbing out her cigarette.

“Yi Qing, what did you mean by that earlier? You still don’t believe Luo Xuan is dead? What are you planning to do?”

“I’m going to find her.”