Twelve

All the concern contained within her anxiety had now transformed into accusations of crime. Under the weight of unbalanced regret, she was left only with self-abandonment. In this world, the person least qualified to live, the one least deserving of happiness—was herself! But even so, was it still not enough?

As Xiang Zuo spoke, his face changed color abruptly; what was happening to him? What was he saying? Was it actually he who had been left with sequelae from her car accident? Staring at Zhang Momo’s face, twisted in suffering and despair, the strength in his grasp on her wrist gradually slackened, his hand trembling with helplessness. Without realizing it, he wanted to pull her into his arms...

“Mr. Xiang,” Tang Hao suddenly pulled Zhang Momo behind him, gripping the girl’s trembling, icy hand tightly. His face, always as warm and cheerful as the sun, had turned cold. “Is this how a gentleman treats a lady?”

For the first time, Xiang Zuo found himself engulfed by a myriad of emotions for which he could find no words. He quietly examined the man before him. In the solemn silence of the restaurant, the only sounds were the woman’s soft sobs, tension sharp between the two men.

This man had grown up with the Zhang sisters, a childhood friend. Now the director of Dongyin Printing Factory, he knew these two sisters better than anyone else in the world could. Only a few months ago, when Zhang Momo was comatose in the hospital, Tang Hao had visited more than anyone. Even if he refused to admit it, Xiang Zuo could not conceal his own lack of confidence. Amidst unfamiliar fear and irrepressible anger, all that remained in his eyes was gloom. “Let her go!”

“I think you should calm down before explaining things to Momo,” Tang Hao sighed, speaking slowly to the ashen-faced man, then led Momo out of the restaurant.

After a summer rain, the air was fragrant and tinged with moisture. The slanting sun cast bands of orange light through the half-open floor-to-ceiling window, while a gentle breeze set the pale lavender curtains alive with warmth and color.

Inside, the room flowed with the elegant, smooth notes of a piano. Slender, fair hands danced gracefully on white keys, coaxing forth a melody that soared and wept, stirring the silence to emotion. It was N. Hass’s “The Waiting Woman”...

Suddenly, the gentle music was savagely cleaved apart, as if struck by an axe. In an instant, the harmony dissolved into a tempest of chaotic notes, the dissonant clatter of keys and a thunderous, violent hum. Zhang Nianqing rose abruptly from the piano, stumbling upstairs to fling open the guestroom door so hard it swung wildly on its hinges.

Her fingers traced slowly across the smooth, lonely gray sheet, as if searching for a lingering presence in the darkness—but found nothing. Gradually, she lay on her side, curling into herself in the dead stillness and chill, her body shivering uncontrollably.

Downstairs, her phone had been ringing for some time. It felt as though an eternity passed before Zhang Nianqing finally descended the stairs, her pale fingers mustering all their strength to answer.

“Sis... Did you know that Brother Tang Hao was removed as factory director?” Zhang Momo’s hand, clutching the car keys, was white at the knuckles, the hard metal biting into her palm.

Nianqing’s gaze flickered. She gripped the sofa, sliding down with a painful sigh, her hand pressed to her brow. “I know. It was a board decision.”

“What board?” Momo’s tone, pushed to the edge, was all instinct and no thought. “Isn’t the board just my brother-in-law? Sis, how did you become like this? How can you speak so calmly about knowing? Even if he wanted to remove Tang Hao, what about you? Don’t you still hold shares in Dongyin? Aren’t you a director too? Can’t you vote against it?”

A weary sigh came down the line. Nianqing bowed her head, surrendering all resistance. “The shares I hold aren’t even a drop in the bucket. And as for Xiang Zuo, I have no grounds to oppose him. The factory now belongs to Shenglian. Senior management appointments are his to make. Momo, stay out of this.”

Even her last shred of hope turned to disappointment. Momo shot to her feet, grabbing her bag and heading for the door. “Sis, if I were the one in trouble, I wouldn’t say a word! I worked for months to get my ad agency on its feet—fine, he ruined it, I’ll endure. Dad toiled his whole life, gave everything to Dongyin—fine, he swallowed it up, I’ll endure. Even—”

Tears streaked her cheeks as she lifted her chin, finally forcing out the words like needles. “Even you—you won’t see me anymore, and I accept that! I made mistakes, I deserve all this. But what has Brother Tang Hao done wrong? Why should he be dragged into this? And you—don’t you know how he feels about you? All these years, even if you don’t care about his feelings, you ought to remember his loyalty and kindness to us. Have you forgotten it all? Why should he pay for this?”

After her impassioned indictment, the call ended in a long, empty tone. Nianqing set down the phone, closing her eyes in pain. Suddenly, as if struck by a thought, she snatched up her keys and bag and hurried out.

No—Momo must be going to confront Xiang Zuo now. That must not happen!

Momo stormed out of the elevator just as Lou Keyu stepped from his car. Already frantic, she had no patience for this “master of delay”—she barely had time to hang herself, let alone deal with him!

“Momo, where are you going? Why haven’t you answered my calls?” He hurried over, only to be met with her guarded expression.

“Haven’t I said it enough? It’s over between us. Senior, please, can you stop this?” Since she’d chosen to break up with him while she was still comatose a year ago, that chapter was closed. Now, a year later, what was the point of all these phone calls and requests to meet?

Pain flickered across Lou Keyu’s brow. His sharp eyes were clouded with regret and unresolved longing. “Momo, can we start over? I can’t forget you. I think of you every day! Are you still angry with me? Give us a chance—let’s start again, please?”

He stepped closer, seizing her hand in a tight grip. Faced with this belated “devotion,” Momo’s head throbbed with pain.

Could a love abandoned in adversity really be stitched together again? How could this medical PhD not understand such a simple truth?

“Senior,” she looked straight at him, fighting her impatience, articulating each word, “I’ll say this one last time: it’s impossible for us. You have a bright future, and there are plenty of good girls out there. Please stop wasting your time on me. It’s a burden for both of us.”

“No! Momo,” Lou Keyu’s anxiety sped his words, “You can’t just sentence me like this! Have you forgotten how happy we were? All those memories? I’ve never cared for any other girl—only you…”

Her teeth bit into her lip. Momo suddenly realized that the more educated and cultured someone was, the harder it could be to communicate with them! Growing more anxious, she yanked her hand free and darted into her own car.

“I have things to do. Please, don’t come looking for me again!”

The man behind her could not fathom how such a gentle woman could be so resolute. By the time he recovered himself, Momo’s car had already turned out of the complex. Without thinking, he dashed for his own car and gave chase.