Ten days later.

The night was as dark as ink, dyeing the entire Kyoto.

It is late at night.

Fu Zhawei drove back to his villa on the outskirts of the city, with a hint of fatigue between his brows.

The film and television company he founded is in the critical sprint stage before going public. There are so many things to do that it is exhausting.

Ever since the spring breeze of reform and opening up blew across the land ten years ago, he and Lin Jianxue graduated from Peking University, and their lives have been on another, inseparable track.

Lin Jianxue's courage and vision are always beyond ordinary people.

She took the first start-up capital borrowed from the bank and resolutely established the "Xue Ji" Film and Television Company.

The first artist signed by the company was Jiang Yan.

At that time, Jiang Yan was still an unknown young man with a lazy and unruly temperament.

Lin Jianxue personally serves as his agent.

Her unique vision secured Jiang Yan the third male lead in a big-budget TV series.

No one expected that it was this seemingly insignificant supporting role that would make Jiang Yan an overnight sensation.

His unique charm of being both good and evil, as well as his relaxed and measured acting skills, actually overshadowed the protagonist in the play and made him a hot new star.

"Xue Ji" film and television also became famous because of this.

The villa was brightly lit.

Aunt Wang, the nanny who was over fifty years old, came forward and took the coat that Fu Zhawei had taken off.

"I'm back now. Do you want me to make you a midnight snack?"

Fu Zhewei waved his hand, his voice slightly hoarse: "No need, Aunt Wang, I've already eaten at the company."

He went straight up to the second floor, took a quick shower, and changed into a comfortable bathrobe.

The mist dispelled some of the fatigue, but it could not dispel the heavy worry in my heart.

As soon as I lay down on the soft big bed, the phone on the bedside table rang rapidly.

Fu Zhewei reached out and picked up the receiver, the corners of his mouth unconsciously rising slightly.

"Hello?"

Lin Jianxue's clear and smiling voice came from the other end of the phone.

"Awei, are you home?"

She was currently filming a co-production with Jiang Yan in Hong Kong.

"Yeah, I just got home." Fu Zhawei's voice became much gentler.

"Did you miss me?" There was a hint of teasing in Lin Jianxue's voice.

"Yeah, I thought about it." Fu Zhewei responded softly, the smile in his eyes deepening. "What about you?"

"I miss you too, every day."

"The situation here is almost over. If everything goes well, we can go back next week."

"Okay, I'll wait for you."

The two of them chatted about some sweet and intimate things, which were nothing more than the ordinary advice and thoughts between husband and wife.

There was always a faint smile on Fu Zhawei's lips, and even after hanging up the phone, the smile still remained.

He is really tired.

He placed his cell phone on the bedside table and closed his eyes, feeling a strong sense of fatigue wash over him like a tide.

In a daze, he fell into a long and depressing dream.

The dream began in that gloomy winter twelve months ago.

Heilongjiang Province, Tonghua Village, Shuguang Production Brigade.

The biting cold wind, the flying snow, and the frozen despair on the faces of the Fu family members.

However, the scenes in the dream are more cruel and suffocating than reality.

Qingqing, the younger sister who was treated in time by Jianxue in reality, had a high fever in her dream, which damaged her brain and turned her into a silly and crazy girl.

She is no longer the quirky and smiling Fu Qingqing.

Later, the scene in the dream changed. The foolish Qingqing was dragged into the cornfield by Jiang Erniu, the scoundrel from the village...

Later, Qingqing died of complications during childbirth with her big belly, resulting in two deaths.

Dong Yulan, the once elegant daughter of a wealthy family in Kyoto, went completely crazy after suffering successive blows.

One day, she slipped and fell into the icy river and never came out again.

My father, Fu Jianguo, a man who had always been upright and self-reliant, suddenly fell ill while feeding chickens on the farm. There was no time to seek medical attention, and he collapsed and died suddenly.

In just a short period of time, Fu Zhawei watched his loved ones leave him one by one.

He became a lonely man.

Completely alone.

In the second spring, the ice and snow melted.

The news of the Fu family's rebellion was like a long-overdue thunderclap, exploding in the silent Tonghua Village.

He numbly went through the formalities and returned to Kyoto, where he had been away for a long time, carrying his father and sister's ashes.

Kyoto is still Kyoto, and it is still prosperous.

But there is no home for him here anymore.

On a familiar street corner, he saw the figure that had occupied his entire youth.

Lin Jianxue.

She was wearing a beautiful dress, holding Jiang Yubai's arm, holding a delicate baby in her arms, and walked past him with a smile on her face.

Her gaze didn't even stay on him for a second.

As if he was just an insignificant stranger.

At that moment, Fu Zhewei felt as if a piece of his heart had been gouged out by someone, leaving it empty and painful.

He is all alone and has no ties.

He sold the only old house left in Kyoto by the Fu family, took all the money, and went to Hong Kong City without looking back.

That adventurer's paradise where gold and traps are everywhere.

He worked hard in Hong Kong, starting from the bottom. With his ruthlessness and desperate struggle, he finally made a name for himself and accumulated a considerable fortune.

A few days later, he returned home in glory and came back to Kyoto, wanting to visit the graves of his father and sister.

But he heard a piece of news from an old friend that broke his heart.

Lin Jianxue, the white moonlight he longed for in his youth, the cinnabar mole he repeatedly depicted in his dreams at midnight, was a woman with a terminal illness.

It is said that he has contracted a contagious disease.

At this moment, he is in a sanatorium in the suburbs, dying, waiting for death to come.

He felt as if he had fallen into an icy cave, a chill running from the soles of his feet to the top of his head.

He couldn't believe it, nor did he want to believe it.

Fu Zhawei immediately sent someone to investigate.

Soon, news came like snowflakes, and each piece of paper was like a sharp knife, torturing him.

The investigation results in the dream were surprisingly similar to what he had heard.

Lin Jianxue's father, Lin Yuefeng and Shen Wu, also passed away one after another within a short period of time after he "left".

The once prosperous Lin family fell apart overnight.

She divorced Jiang Yubai.

In order to fight for the custody of her adopted son named Jiang Chen, she chose to leave the house and gave up all her property.

What's funny is that the child she raised with all her heart eventually returned to Jiang Yubai and reunited with his ancestors.

But she was abandoned alone in a sanatorium in the suburbs, like a dying flower, waiting in despair to be devoured by death.

He and she, both of them, had been worn out beyond recognition and bruised in this ruthless time.

He stood outside the rusty gate of the sanatorium, looking at the gray-white building through the cold iron bars.

He didn't dare go in.

He was afraid to see her looking haggard and sickly.

He was afraid that he would lose control.

In the end, he asked his adopted son in Hong Kong to take her place and send her off for the last time.

Later, he personally placed her ashes in a cemetery in Nishiyama, Kyoto.

On the tombstone is a photo of her when she was young.

The black and white photo could not hide her beautiful face, with a hint of alienation and tenderness between her eyebrows.

In the photo, she had a beautiful smile and clear eyes, as if she was still the Lin Jianxue who had amazed him throughout his youth at Zhenhai High School.

Fu Zhewei stretched out his hand and stroked her cheek in the photo with trembling fingertips.

At that moment, his heart was broken and he felt heartbroken.

If...if he hadn't left Kyoto...

If he came back earlier...

Will everything be different?

"ah--!"

Fu Zhewei suddenly sat up from the bed, his forehead covered with fine beads of cold sweat, his chest heaving violently, and he was gasping for breath.

Outside the window, the night is still dark.

The room was dead silent, with only his heavy breathing echoing in the empty house.

It took him a long time to break free from the extreme fear and grief.

Fu Zhewei reached out and took out the cigarette box from the bedside table, shook out a cigarette and lit it.

The scarlet firelight flickered in the darkness, illuminating his dim face.

He leaned against the headboard, letting the pungent taste of nicotine invade his lungs, trying to use this method to calm the turmoil in his heart.

Everything in the dream is too real.

It was so real that he couldn't tell what was a dream and what was reality.

Those desperate scenes and those heart-wrenching pains seem to have happened just yesterday and are still vivid in my mind.

*

Zhou Yu.

Lin Jianxue finished filming in Hong Kong and returned to Kyoto as scheduled.

Fu Zhewei went to the airport to pick her up in person.

When they returned to the villa, Aunt Wang had already prepared a sumptuous dinner.

The atmosphere at the table was warm.

Lin Jianxue excitedly told him about the interesting things she encountered while filming in Hong Kong, and how lazy and unruly Jiang Yan, that troublesome guy, was, which made the director laugh and cry.

Fu Zhawei listened quietly with a faint smile on his lips, but that smile did not reach his eyes.

His eyes were almost entirely glued to Lin Jianxue, focused and deep, with a hint of inquiry and complexity that was not easily perceived by others.

After dinner, the two of them snuggled up on the sofa in the living room and watched TV.

Lin Jianxue quickly noticed that something was wrong with Fu Zhawei.

He hardly spoke a word, just staring at her intently, his eyes as deep as an ancient well, making her feel inexplicably uneasy.

"What's wrong with you?" Lin Jianxue couldn't help but wave her hand in front of his eyes. "You've been staring at me since we were eating. Is there something on my face?"

Fu Zhewei grabbed her rebellious hand and held it tightly in his palm.

His palms were slightly cold.