Chapter 28 I'm preparing to face...

Xia Zhiyao approached, pulling her suitcase, a lazy smile on her lips: "I'm so touched, I might consider treating you to breakfast."

Zheng Xiaotian raised an eyebrow, his gaze sweeping over her from head to toe. He replied nonchalantly, "How did you get so thin? Did you go out to smoke opium? Were you abused abroad?" Though his words were harsh, a hint of unspoken worry flashed in his eyes.

She glanced at him sideways and said in a flat tone, "Walking tens of thousands of steps every day will definitely make you lose weight."

Zheng Xiaotian opened the trunk, carried the suitcase inside, and said lazily, "Look at me, it's only me who braved the snow to pick you up, a traveler returning home on a snowy night."

Xia Zhiyao leaned against the passenger door and said calmly, "With your posture, when I hear you calling me, it's almost like hearing a dog barking at a thatched gate."

Zheng Xiaotian exclaimed "Oh!" and laughed: "Wow, not bad, you can still curse back at me, which proves you're not out of your mind."

She ignored him, opened the car door, and got in. The car door slammed shut, immediately shutting out the wind and snow outside, leaving only the low hum of the air conditioner echoing in the car.

The car drove into the city, the streetlights on both sides of the street glowing a soft yellow light in the snow, and the low-hanging branches occasionally drew a small arc on the car window.

Zheng Xiaotian gripped the steering wheel, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye from time to time. She leaned against the passenger seat, not saying a word, her gaze fixed on the snow-laden streets outside the window, as if she hadn't adjusted to the time difference, or as if her mind wasn't in the city at all.

After a long pause, he finally spoke, his tone unhurried and still carrying that nonchalant air: "Have you really figured it out? Or is it just something you did on a whim?"

She didn't reply immediately, but slowly rolled down the car window a crack.

A cold wind immediately rushed in, carrying the damp scent of snowflakes that brushed against her face and ruffled the stray hairs at her temples. She squinted slightly, as if trying to use the chill to completely awaken herself.

A few seconds later, she turned to look at him, her eyes clear and direct as ever: "Then you must have thought it through. I've already quit my job, and I'm currently unemployed."

His voice was slightly hoarse, but it carried a crisp, powerful tone: "Let's get started. From today onwards, you're my new boss."

Zheng Xiaotian glanced at her, his expression still nonchalant, but he felt much more relaxed inside. "That's more like you." He grinned. "Who would really turn down money?"

The car slowly stopped at the red light, and the red light shone in through the windshield, bathing the car in a warm glow.

His smile faded slightly, and his tone turned serious: "I'll just say one thing today... What's going on with Zhang Luyuan? He's been contacting all your old classmates, even those we don't usually keep in touch with. I held my tongue and didn't say a word."

Xia Zhiyao didn't turn her head, but just looked at the street in front of her, illuminated by streetlights in the snowy night. The light and shadows overlapped with the snow and mist, like a silent corridor unfolding.

Her voice was incredibly firm: "Actually, I had already made it clear to him, but he just wouldn't believe me and always thought I would come back. During that time, the trivial matters at the company were suffocating me. I was so fed up with it that I just wanted to go out for a walk and clear my head."

“Damn it…” Zheng Xiaotian cursed under his breath, with a sense of helplessness, “If your mind is scattered, it will be scattered from 2022 to 2023.”

She glanced at him sideways: "Don't try to provoke me. I've already figured it out. Running away is useless."

“That’s more like it.” He nodded, his voice lowered, but with certainty. “The facts are what they are; we have to face them.”

"I'm preparing to face it." Her words were soft, yet they seemed to come from deep within her chest, steady and resolute.

He didn't say anything more, just nodded again. The green light came on, and the car slowly pulled out of the intersection, disappearing into the swirling snow. The city was still asleep, but their road had already been laid out in the snowy night.

The living room was unusually quiet. Snow was still falling outside the window, and the wind swirled the snowflakes against the window frame, blowing the half-drawn curtains and casting soft, undulating shadows on the floor.

Xia Zhiyao was squatting on the ground, head down, organizing her luggage. Suddenly, a piece of paper slipped out from between her clothes and landed lightly at her feet. She paused for a moment, then instinctively reached out to pick it up.

It was the card Zhou Yue had left her: "I'm sorry, I was too harsh last night. I'm going to the company now. Let's have dinner together after work tonight, if you'd still like."

She sat back on the sofa, her fingertips slowly tracing the edge of the card, turning the few lines of text over and over again for a long time.

The card was slightly wrinkled from being pressed, the edges white. It was Zhou Yue's handwriting—neat, steady, not beautiful, but very measured. Just like him, always gentle, making people feel they could rely on him.

Her gaze gradually darkened. In the past few days, she had already simulated all the possible scenarios of meeting Zhang Luyuan in her mind, from the worst-case scenario of a complete falling out to the most casual greeting.

She knew very well that she would have to get through that hurdle sooner or later, just like she had to confront the self that had "once chosen to run away".

Escaping was her habit in the past, but now she has returned, with a clear mind, to get back on her own track.

She lowered her head, folded the card, and put it in her wallet, as if she were tucking this gentle apology and promise into her heart.

Then she stood up. She was no longer the girl who stood at the end of the corridor, waiting for someone to turn around and look at her. This time, she was going to walk over herself and settle this old score clearly from beginning to end.

She picked up her phone again and typed in the long-silent chat box: "I'm back in China, waiting for you at home."

Shortly after the message was sent, Zhang Luyuan's replies popped up one after another: 【Where did you go?】

Do you know I've been looking for you?

[Zhiyao, what's wrong with you?]

Why did they disappear without saying a word?

One message after another, spoken urgently, with an air of self-righteous questioning and undisguised anxiety.

She stared at the screen for several minutes before typing: "Let's talk in person."

Without punctuation or emotion, Xia Zhiyao stood up, turned, and walked into the bedroom. A few minutes later, she reappeared, dressed in a suit.

Instead of immediately sitting back on the sofa, she walked to the entryway and stood in front of the full-length mirror.

She lowered her head and slowly straightened the collar of her shirt, her fingers meticulously smoothing out the wrinkles. The eyes in the mirror were clear and restrained, the emotions that had lingered all night were calmly sealed back into her chest, leaving only an impeccable shell.

The doorbell finally rang. Xia Zhiyao turned to open the door. The moment her fingertips touched the doorknob, she lowered her eyes almost imperceptibly, as if giving herself a final dose of calming agent.

The door opened, and a blast of cold air, carrying the scent of snow, rushed in. Zhang Luyuan stood in the doorway, his coat collar clung to with unmelted snow, and his black hair was damp with fine water droplets, as if he had rushed there through wind and snow, his eagerness still lingering.

He looked at her, a fleeting look of panic at being rejected flashing in his eyes, but he quickly covered it up with that familiar smile.

"Zhiyao." His voice was hoarse from the wind and snow as he called her softly, "You've finally agreed to see me."

Before he finished speaking, he had already subconsciously moved closer to her, his arm naturally reaching out to her shoulder, the movement so practiced it seemed like a repetition of countless times.

This time, however, Xia Zhiyao slightly turned to the side, showing no obvious resistance, yet her statement couldn't be clearer. She straightened up, her eyes calm and distant, her lips pursed, and her voice steady as water: "Zhang Luyuan, we're over."

This sentence, without any ripples or twists, is like peeling away the last layer of warmth, leaving only a cold and hard boundary.

Zhang Luyuan's hand froze in mid-air for several seconds. He stared at her face, his gaze tightening little by little, but a nonchalant smile remained on his lips, as if he was still immersed in the illusion that she would forgive him as before.

"Break up?" He chuckled softly, a hint of disdain flashing in his eyes. "Zhiyao, stop making a scene. You've said things like that before, and they're over after the argument, aren't they?"

His tone lightly brushed over the past rifts. After speaking, he stepped across the threshold without saying another word, walked familiarly to the sofa, took off his coat and draped it over the back of the chair, as if the space still belonged to him.

"Has something happened to you lately?" His voice softened, carrying that long-lost gentleness as he tried to soothe you. "You resigned, cut off all contact, and went out alone. Don't do this. Tell me, what happened? Let me see if I can help you."

He spoke so casually, even with a hint of self-righteousness, as if reminding her that no matter how much time had passed, he was still part of her life, her support, and the person she couldn't live without.

Xia Zhiyao did not reply immediately. She simply stood there, arms crossed over her chest, shoulders slightly tilted back, looking at him with a calm and distant gaze.

"No." Just two words, but they carry more weight than a lengthy discourse.

His brows furrowed, his expression revealing confusion and annoyance, as if he couldn't accept the cold and almost unfamiliar Xia Zhiyao in front of him.

"Zhiyao, I'm doing this for your own good." His tone began to carry a hint of pressure, as if he were persuading her, but also as if he were commanding her. "Your current state is clearly not right. Don't rush into a decision; wait until you calm down—"

“I’m perfectly stable now,” she interrupted him, her voice calm and even. “Besides, I stopped loving you a long time ago.” She looked directly at him, her eyes serene and clear. “Not even hatred.”

His breathing seemed to be blocked by something, and his chest rose and fell slightly.

She took another step forward, her voice lower but sharper: "So stop being so presumptuous as to think I'm just throwing a tantrum, and stop trying to fool me with 'it's for my own good.' Zhang Luyuan, you're just used to controlling others. Your so-called 'good' has always just been about making me more suitable for you."

She was almost face to face with him, speaking slowly and clearly: "I should have left long ago. I was just too foolish before, still hoping to reason with him, save face, and have a peaceful end. Now I understand, you are not worth it at all."

"You're not good enough for her either."

In that instant, all decorum, restraint, and leniency were shattered. She knew very well that these words were not emotional or spiteful, but her true conclusion.

She had pondered countless times in the quiet of the night how to speak, trying to be gentler, more accommodating, and more rational. But in the end, she realized that some relationships are inherently impossible to end peacefully.

Over the years, she had already paid enough and owed nothing.

Zhang Luyuan initially didn't take her indifference seriously. After all, over the years, every time she was on the verge of collapse, he had easily resolved it, or rather, he had treated it as a temporary exhaustion that he could easily soothe with a few words of comfort and a little patience.

So this time, he followed the same old method: "Zhiyao, don't do this."

His tone was calm, almost patient, "You're a bit emotional right now, and I don't blame you. If you want to get angry, I'll let you. But between us... it shouldn't come to the point of 'breaking up,' right?"

As he spoke, he took two more steps forward, lowered his voice, and reached out to grasp her wrist, the movement as natural as if he had repeated it countless times before.

Before they even met, she spoke, "Do you know why I left?"

He was taken aback, and before he could respond, she pressed him further, her words slow but sharp, cutting to the heart of the matter: "It's not just me, is it, Zhang Luyuan?"

Her eyes were as calm as a mirror, reflecting the truth he was unwilling to admit.

"Besides me, who else?" Her tone was flat, without even a hint of blame, only naked clarity and certainty.

The smile on Zhang Luyuan's lips seemed to be blown away by the wind, and a slight crack appeared on his calm surface: "What are you talking about?"

Xia Zhiyao looked at him as if examining a lie that had long lost its meaning. "Do you really want me to explain?"

"I always thought you were serious about me. But what happened?" She smiled lightly, but her eyes were cold and almost ruthless. "No matter how sweet your words were, I know who you turned around to see and who you had in your heart."

“You’re too good at taking care of other people’s feelings, Zhang Luyuan.” She paused, her tone suddenly turning sarcastic, “except for me.”

Zhang Luyuan stood still, his gaze growing increasingly intense as he stared at her. His fingers twitched, but he never reached out again. It wasn't that he didn't understand; he had always understood.

He was just too used to her turning back, used to her staying in the same place waiting for his explanation even when she was angry, and used to her compromise of "we can continue as long as we don't say it out loud".

But now she stands there, her expression calm, having said everything, without even a trace of hesitation.

Zhang Luyuan suddenly spoke, his voice low and hoarse: "Are you really going to just leave like this because of those completely uncertain suspicions?"

A thin layer of anger, or perhaps defensiveness, flickered in his eyes: "You didn't even ask me a single question, and you just put on a whole show in your head?" He seemed to be trying to convince himself that it was all just a misunderstanding on her part.

Xia Zhiyao merely glanced at him indifferently, her eyes colder than a winter night.

“Zhang Luyuan,” she said, her tone not harsh, but clear as a nail, “you know what kind of person I am.”

She paused for a moment, then spoke with icy precision: "Would I do such futile things without solid evidence?"

The way she looked at her as she said this was as if she were watching a well-worn play, with the actors still reciting their lines verbatim, unaware that the audience had long since left. She could even perfectly repeat what he was going to say.

At that moment, Zhang Luyuan finally realized that she would stop struggling, stop blaming, and stop losing control of her emotions.

She had completely detached herself; her calm was more deadly than anger—a calm of genuine indifference. She was no longer in the emotions, no longer in the relationship, and not even in his world.