Gu Youran's nails dug deep into his palms.

For eight years, she numbered all her unpublished songs 865.

Even the computer password is HJC865.

"HJC" is the abbreviation of Han Jingchen's name.

Shi Heng gently held her in his arms.

"You didn't fall in love with him," he whispered in her ear, "but with yourself who thought you were saved by a hero."

"Look carefully."

Shi Heng tore the photo in her hand into two pieces. "What you treasure is never love, but the obsession of self-touching."

He was distressed to find that Gu Youran had been desperately using her status as a "top student" to prove that she was worthy of love over the years.

But she didn't know that Han Jingchen had never fallen in love with her.

Gu Youran finally broke down and burst into tears.

Shi Heng pressed her into his arms, ran his fingers through her hair, his voice low and restrained.

"Cry."

"But you're only allowed to cry once, today."

His palms were pressed against her trembling back, his strength was steady, as if he wanted to suppress all her collapsing memories.

"Starting tomorrow," he whispered in her ear, word by word, "I want you to sing only for yourself."

Not far away, Cen Su and Yun Ye stood in the shadows, watching the scene in silence.

Yunye sighed softly, "Shi Heng is so cruel to his wife."

Cen Su shook his head, his eyes falling on Shi Heng's tense back.

The veins on the man's arms as he held Gu Youran were bulging, as if he had used all his strength to prevent himself from losing control.

"I'm not being cruel to my wife."

Cen Su whispered, "I'm being cruel to myself."

"He would rather she hated him than shatter the fantasy she created for herself."

Yunye looked at Shi Heng carefully picking up Gu Youran and suddenly smiled.

"You're right, he's not cruel..."

"It's terribly love." Cen Su continued.

The two smiled at each other.

Yun Ye watched them leave and whispered, "How deep must the love be for a man who can be so cruel to you to not tell her the truth sooner?"

Cen Su lit a cigarette, and the smoke blurred his vision.

"Maybe it's... I'd rather lie awake every night looking at her tin box than watch her continue to live in a fantasy."

…

Shi Heng carried Gu Youran into the bedroom.

He carefully placed her on the bed, but when he was about to get up, Gu Youran's hand unconsciously grabbed his tie.

“…865…” Gu Youran muttered in her dream, her wet eyelashes trembling slightly.

Shi Heng's fingers suddenly tightened, and his knuckles turned white.

His eyes fell on the faded tin box at the head of the bed.

"asshole."

Shi Heng loosened his tie and swept the iron box off the bedside with a wave of his hand.

"Bang—"

With a loud bang, Gu Youran suddenly opened his eyes.

In her blurred vision, she saw the man who was so decisive in the business world, now kneeling on one knee on the carpet, picking up the scattered banknotes one by one.

"Don't pick it up." Her voice was hoarse.

Shi Heng's movements froze in mid-air.

"You know what's the most ironic thing?"

Gu Youran suddenly smiled, stood up, and walked step by step to Shi Heng.

I held his hand, but tears fell on the back of our clasped hands.

"I have 865 photos of Han Jingchen stored in my computer..."

She reached out and pulled the wallet out of Shi Heng's pocket. "But you've always kept the Polaroid photo of our wedding day in your wallet."

The edges of the photo were frayed and fuzzy, obviously having been touched countless times.

"Shi Heng," her tears finally burst out, "Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

The man suddenly pushed her against the French window.

Their closely pressed figures were reflected in the glass.

His hot breath burned her earlobe red, "Because I want you to shatter that illusion with your own hands."

He pressed his palm against her heart, "And here, I will brand you with my mark."

Just at this moment, fireworks exploded in the night sky outside the window.

Gu Youran looked up in the brilliant light and shadow.

For the first time, I truly saw the deep affection in this man's eyes that was enough to burn the sky and destroy the earth.

…

On the other side, the Royal Academic Dinner of Country Y.

Earl Drinker is a well-known "iceberg" in the academic world.

This sixty-year-old archaeology master has three "nevers".

Never participate in social activities, never tolerate academic mistakes, and never get within three meters of a woman.

Three months ago, a female agent from a certain country approached him disguised as a teaching assistant, but he used a magnifying glass to see through her disguise and asked the security guard to carry her out.

And tonight, Mu Xuewei's task was simple, to let the old scholar touch her hand on his own initiative.

"Don't think it's easy."

Bai Xiangning pinned a peacock-shaped jade brooch on the collar of Mu Xuewei's cheongsam.

"The Nine Stars Bracelet requires voluntary contact from the other party to be effective. The master specifically chose this 'touchstone'."

Mu Xuewei unconsciously rubbed the silver bracelet on her wrist, and the five dark patterns glowed coldly under the light.

She looked towards the center of the hall. Earl Drinker was examining the fourth guest who had come to chat with him with the sharp eyes of an archaeologist, as if he was identifying a newly unearthed fake bronze artifact.

She did not go forward directly, but walked slowly towards the bronze display case in the corner of the exhibition hall.

After making sure she was within earshot, she sighed softly at the inscription rubbing in the display case, "The rubbing direction is wrong... What a pity."

Drinker's back straightened instantly.

Three seconds later.

The old man walked over quickly, his gray eyebrows tightly knitted together, "Young man, what did you just say?"

Mu Xuewei pretended to be frightened, and the champagne glass in her hand suddenly tilted, and the amber wine splashed on the glass of the display case.

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