Chapter 42

Time passed by little by little, and the days were stretched into a thin and transparent line.

Zou Ping's life seems no different from before.

She still paints on canvas, still picks up her camera and shoots short videos, documenting people and events, like helping a sick child raise medical expenses by transferring 80,000 yuan, one by one, to the accounts of strangers, capturing the moment on camera. The comments section of her videos, likes and criticisms abound, but she doesn't explain, just keeps going.

On the surface, her life was going on as normal.

But she knew in her heart that every painting and every video was an effort to maintain the illusion of normalcy. Those few brief moments of smiles were forced with all her might.

After turning off the camera, she often remains silent for a long time, until the screen goes black and the light in the room seems real.

Her schedule was divided into two halves: one half was for the outside world, which was "life as usual"; the other half was for the inside world, which was the ward and waiting.

Every evening, she would walk into the hospital at almost the same time.

The white light, the smell of disinfectant, the ticking of the monitor—everything was so quiet it made one's heart tighten. Tang Yuchuan remained asleep, his chest rising and falling slightly, as if he was using all his strength to maintain his existence.

She sat on the edge of the bed, opened her sketchbook, and quietly drew him.

The way he protected her in the ruins, the way he slept in the hospital, and sometimes even just a vague silhouette.

As she painted, she would look up at him, then lower her head to continue. That bit of body temperature, that breath, seemed to be the source of her peace of mind.

One day, a few of Tang Yuchuan's friends came to visit, and they were talking in the ward about the news that Tan Jing had woken up. They didn't care about Zou Ping's presence at all, and even discussed it very deliberately.

Zou Ping even felt that they were just pretending to discuss and tell Tang Yuchuan, and they were also asserting Tan Jing's sovereignty in front of her.

Zou Ping heard it, but she didn't ask any questions, nor did she show any interest. That wasn't her world.

That was someone else's world. Her world consisted only of the person before her.

She didn't know if it was because time had passed or because all her energy was spent on one person, but she sometimes felt that she was no longer as sensitive as before, and had become insensitive to the outside world's rumors and discussions, as if the only person in the world was the person on this hospital bed.

Time passed day by day, like a stretched film, and Zou Ping's life continued to run smoothly.

Paintbrush, camera, video, donations...everything was done mechanically, her fingers, eyes, even her breathing, repeating the same movements. Yet, a lingering unease lingered deep within her heart.

Every time she walked into the ward, she would subconsciously glance at the bed first, then sit down and open her sketchbook.

Her hands moved with such practice that they were almost automatic, but her eyes were always searching for that familiar outline, that faint breath. Day after day, she had become accustomed to this kind of waiting, neither startled nor afraid, just quietly waiting.

Until that day, when she pushed open the door of the ward and her eyes fell on him, all the familiar rhythms disappeared.

The bed was empty, the chair stood still, and there was no rhythm of breathing in the air.

My heart skipped a beat, as if it had hit a thick wall.

She nearly dropped the sketchbook in her hand as her eyes searched for every familiar detail on the empty bedside.

But, there is nothing.

She hurriedly pulled out her phone and dialed Tang Yuchuan's number. A cold voice prompt answered her call, but there was no echo of life. Her breath surged in her chest, and she subconsciously clenched the phone, her fingertips turning white.

In a panic, she contacted Chen Zui and pieced together a fact from her brief narration: the first thing Tang Yuchuan did when he woke up was to see Tan Jing.

At this moment, Zou Ping felt a sense of emptiness in his chest.

Lost, like a light mist, filled her heart, but she felt no anger, no urge to stop him. It was just a sense of emptiness, as if the coordinates she had been guarding had suddenly been taken away.

At the same time, she felt a sense of relief.

He woke up and was fine.

Her heartbeat was pounding firmly in her chest; it was the only reality she could grasp.

In the hall of the Tang family's old house, the curtains were half-drawn, and the wind outside rustled the branches. Mottled light and shadows fell on the floor, but they could not illuminate the shadow in the center of the room.

Tan Jing leaned back in her chair, her face pale and her eyes filled with a vacant, dull expression. She twirled her sleeves with her fingertips, as if grasping for the last vestige of touch that would calm her.

Tang Yuchuan sat across from him, his palms tightly gripping a small USB drive, his knuckles turning white from the strain. His voice was restrained, but he couldn't suppress the turmoil in his chest.

"How long has this been going on?" he asked.

Tan Jing lowered her head and smiled, but that smile was as empty as the wind blowing through ashes: "I can't remember. It started from the time I decided to leave you."

Tang Yuchuan's Adam's apple moved, and his voice became even lower: "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would it be helpful to tell you?" Tan Jing raised her eyes, her expression calm. "You were still in college at that time. What could you have done to help me? And after that happened, how would I know if you still wanted me?"

"How could I possibly not want you?" Tang Yuchuan blurted out, grinding his fingertips on the surface of the USB drive, as if to grind the cold metal to heat. "This is not your fault. You are the victim. What kind of person am I in your eyes? If this was the reason back then, you should have told me. Whether it can be solved or not, I will work with you to find a solution. Even if it can't be solved, I will stay with you. Why did you keep silent and drag yourself into this?"

Tan Jing was silent for a long time, her fingertips resting on her knees, as if weighing the weight of each word. Finally, she whispered, "I believe you. I believe you now. But when I was twenty, I didn't dare believe you."

The air seemed to freeze at this moment. Tang Yuchuan looked at her, and a belated dull pain arose in his heart.

"I once thought that I would carry this secret with me for the rest of my life, and I would never tell anyone until I die," she continued.

"Then why are you saying it now?" he asked softly.

Tan Jing lowered her eyes, a self-deprecating smile forming at the corners of her lips. "Because I think this is the right time. After death, nothing matters anymore. Wouldn't it be nice to do something meaningful before dying?"

Tang Yuchuan raised his head suddenly, his brows furrowed tightly. "Why are you still thinking about death? Why do you have to die?"

"I don't know either." Tan Jing shook her head gently, her eyes wandering, as if she saw through the whole world, but also saw nothing. "I just think... it's quite boring."

At that moment, her voice was as soft as a flame dying in the wind.

Tang Yuchuan suppressed his emotions and tried to slow down his tone: "You have to survive."

"Why should I go on living?" Tan Jing looked at him, her eyes dull but chilling like a knife. "A terrible past, an uncertain future. Tell me, is living really better than dying?"

Tang Yuchuan's heart trembled, and his breathing became tight. "Why not? What you are doing now is very meaningful. What happened cannot be reversed, but we can help those girls, those girls who have been violated like you. They are also struggling in pain, and we can find a way to make their lives better."

He paused, trying to catch even a glimmer of light in her eyes. "Also, aren't your designs great? In the past six months since you came to the company, you've created new works, and many people like your works. They are your works, and they are the traces you leave in this world."

Tan Jing's eyes finally moved, but with a deeper void: "Those are all theirs. But what about me? Who will compensate me for my youth? The traces are for others to see. I also thought about finding something through design, but in the end, I found nothing."

Tang Yuchuan's chest tightened, and his voice became hoarse. "I'm sorry. Back then, I ignored your pain... All these years, I've resented your leaving, but I never considered whether you had hidden feelings. I was wrong."

Tan Jing looked at him quietly, and suddenly asked: "Then how do you plan to make it up to me?"

Tang Yuchuan was speechless. His throat moved, but he couldn't utter a single answer.

He knew that she wanted nothing now. Now it was he who unilaterally longed for her to live.

Tan Jing seemed to notice his struggle and suddenly changed the subject: "I heard that you found a girlfriend."

Tang Yuchuan's fingers trembled slightly.

"You're afraid that I'll ask you to break up and come back to me, right?" Tan Jing's eyes were calm and indifferent, as if she was just asking casually.

Tang Yuchuan was stunned for a moment and couldn't answer.

Tan Jing continued on her own, her voice soft but like a final declaration: "Tang Yuchuan, I don't want you anymore. Half a year ago, your father died, and I really wanted to go back to the past and have you come back to me. But in the past six months, I've come to understand that time will not come back. We have all changed, and nothing can go back. I don't want you anymore."

The air was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

After hearing Tan Jing's announcement, Tang Yuchuan felt as if something had tapped his chest gently, and the echo lingered in his chest.

He was silent for a while, his eyes were quiet, tired but also with a sincerity that was almost humble.

"Well," he said finally, his voice so low it seemed to come from far away, "I'm not worthy."

Those three words, without any vehement regret, were like laying a fact flat on the table. He didn't turn it into a slogan, nor did he intend to use any sonorous words to offset the heaviness of the past. That heaviness should never have been easily discarded.

"Back then, I didn't ask, I didn't protect you," he continued, his tone soft, like picking up broken glass piece by piece. "I'm his son, and that very fact puts me in a position where I have no right to defend myself. That's not an excuse, it's a fact. You have the right to treat me as a stranger, the right to hate me, the right to no longer need me."

He paused, as if trying to define his words. "But if you're willing, even if you just want to talk about those days, I'm willing to listen. If there's anything you want, anything I can do to make amends for him, I'm willing to do it."

His fingers gently stroked the USB drive, his movements cautious, as if he was afraid to disturb something sleeping. "Or, what do you want me to do for you? Legally, publicly, privately... I'm willing to do that too."

When he said this, there was a light in his eyes, but the light was not dazzling. It was a kind of determination that came through the fatigue accumulated over the years.

Tan Jing looked at him, and the calmness on her face trembled slightly, as if swept by a gust of wind.

The light from the room shone between them, and the silence felt indescribably heavy. Her eyes finally showed some movement, as if she were weighing some possibility, as if she were trying to gauge whether her vulnerability was something she could afford to share.

After a while, she raised her eyes and said softly, "I hope you can announce his crimes."

She paused, her gaze fixed on Tang Yuchuan. Her eyes were no longer empty, but held a resolute coldness. "What your father did shouldn't be kept in the dark. Openly admit your mistakes, publicly apologize. At least, to me first."

Tang Yuchuan's breathing hitched slightly, and his fingers unconsciously clenched the USB drive.

Tan Jing continued, her tone still calm, but each word weighing heavily on her. "As for the other girls...some may not want others to know, while others may simply wish to continue their lives in peace. Whether they are willing to accept private compensation or hope you will apologize to them is for them to decide. It's not up to you, nor me, to speak for them."

She let out a soft breath, as if releasing a corner of the stone that had been weighing on her chest for years. "Tang Yuchuan, if you truly want to make amends, then expose his sins to the light, let the world see them, let his name be linked to his crimes, and no longer just a shadow in the video."

The air quieted down.

Tang Yuchuan lowered his eyes. The USB flash drive in his hand was like a piece of ice, and his knuckles turned white from the cold.

He knew full well that if he made this public, he would face more than just an apology. Decades of Tang family prestige, the trust of the company's top management, the skepticism of shareholders, the surging public opinion... everything would crumble overnight.

He would be pushed to the forefront, with questioning, abuse, and accusations coming one after another. Although he and his father had a bad relationship during his lifetime, his father was already dead. As the son of the Tang family, exposing his father's crimes was by no means a simple matter of sacrificing one's own family for the sake of justice.

But he didn't hesitate.

What surged in my chest was not hesitation, but a calm and almost cruel certainty.

This, he thought, was what he had to do.

Not just for Tan Jing.

But it is for those girls who were dragged in the darkness and had no chance to scream.

It was also for the sake of his twenty-year-old self. Back then, he missed her tears, missed her pleas for help. He made the question "Why didn't you tell me?" become a powerless question.

Now he understands that some compensation is not made with words, but with choices.

Even if this choice will drag him into the abyss.

He slowly raised his eyes and looked at Tan Jing.

He whispered, his voice steady, "Okay. I promise you."

The sound was not loud, but it was like hammering a nail into the thick air, carrying a weight of determination.

Tan Jing looked at him, her lips curling slightly. That smile didn't reveal any relief, only a hint of fatigue. She whispered, "That's all. This is my only wish. If you're willing to help me realize it, then I'll do it."

After she finished speaking, she seemed to have lost all her strength again and returned to a state of silence, as if she could withdraw from this world at any time.

Tang Yuchuan looked at Tan Jing like this, and suddenly felt a little flustered, "Tan Jing."

Tan Jing raised her eyes with a cold expression.

He looked at her, his voice low and steady: "You have to live. Because you have to see my apology with your own eyes. It's not just a slap in the face, nor is it a PR statement. It's me publicly admitting what he did and apologizing on his behalf in front of everyone. Only by living can you see my sincerity."

Tan Jing was slightly stunned, her fingertips clenching her sleeves: "What if I don't want to see it?"

"That depends." Tang Yuchuan didn't retreat. "I can die at any time, but not now. At least wait until that day, when you see me do it, and then leave. Die later, okay?"

The room fell silent. Tan Jing lowered her eyes, as if hesitating. After a long pause, she whispered, "Will you really do it?"

"I will." Tang Yuchuan said slowly, but his words were as firm as a nail. "I will make it public and apologize. As for the others, I respect what they want. If you are still willing at that time, you can continue to witness my amends."

Tan Jing didn't say anything else.

She looked at the seriousness in his eyes and listened to the tenderness in his tone, and suddenly felt as if she was no longer the only one who had been carrying the things she had been carrying all these years.

At that moment, the emptiness in her heart suddenly felt real.

After a moment, she nodded: "Okay. Then... later."