Trust crisis
The design school's common lounge is always filled with the aroma of coffee and the sound of keyboards clicking.
Xu Ying sat by the window, her fingertips slid rapidly across the graphics tablet, and the clothing design on the screen gradually took shape—an asymmetrical evening gown with sharp lines yet a soft drape.
"Adjust the waistline a bit more..." she murmured to herself, reaching for the iced Americano next to her, only to find the glass was empty.
The sun shone brightly outside the window, and the May breeze carried the warmth of early summer. She glanced at the time—3:27 PM, thirty-three minutes before her agreed-upon video call with Zong Heng.
"He should be on time this time..." She stroked the edge of her phone. Last week he stood her up because of an emergency board meeting, the week before that was for international project negotiations, and the week before that... she couldn't even remember the last time he showed up on time.
Wow! Really?!
The sudden gasp behind her made Xu Ying's pen tremble, drawing an abrupt line on her design. She frowned and turned around, seeing several girls from her department huddled together, staring at their phones, their faces flushed with excitement.
"This is absolutely solid proof! Look how close they are standing..."
"I heard the two families started discussing the engagement a while ago..."
Xu Ying's fingers unconsciously tightened around the digital pen.
"Xu Ying!" Her classmate Zhang Xiaonan suddenly waved to her, "Come and see! Isn't this your boyfriend?"
The air froze instantly.
Xu Ying nearly knocked over her coffee cup when she stood up. She walked behind the group of girls, her gaze falling on her phone screen—
On the financial news page, a high-resolution photo occupies half the screen.
Zong Heng.
He stood at the cocktail party under the crystal chandelier, wearing the black suit she had personally chosen for him. Beside him, a girl in a silver fishtail dress stood on tiptoe, her red lips almost touching his ear. Zong Heng lowered his head slightly, and from this angle, it looked as if he were kissing her cheek.
The headline is eye-catching: [Zong Group Heir Meets with Lin Family Daughter; Is a High-Class Marriage Imminent?]
"This...should be a camera trick?" Zhang Xiaonan asked cautiously.
Xu Ying's fingertips were icy cold. She recognized that expression—Zong Heng would always lower his head slightly and furrow his brows like that when listening to important reports. It wasn't resistance, but focus.
"Xu Ying? Are you alright?"
She then realized that she was trembling.
Back in her seat, Xu Ying quickly opened her laptop.
Search keywords "Zong Henglin Clan"
A dozen related news articles popped up instantly. The earliest was a report from a charity gala three days ago, and the latest was photos of the yacht club updated at noon today. She clicked on the most detailed one:
According to sources, the Zong Group and Lin's Real Estate are in talks for a deeper collaboration, and the two heirs have been frequently seen together...
The photos scrolled by one by one:
At the auction, Ms. Lin smiled and pointed to the exhibits, while Zong Heng signed them.
At the foot of the private jet's gangway, he reached out to help her board.
On the yacht deck, the two raised their glasses and drank together.
The last close-up shot made Xu Ying's breath catch in her throat—Miss Lin was wearing a pear-shaped diamond necklace, and Zong Heng's fingers were hovering behind her neck, as if adjusting the clasp.
This action is too intimate. Too...
She picked up her phone; the most recent call in her call log was four days ago, lasting 2 minutes and 17 seconds.
I opened WeChat, and the last message was from early yesterday morning:
[Project is nearing completion, I may not have time to contact you this week]
There were no emojis, no voice messages, and not even a name.
Xu Ying took a deep breath and immediately made a video call.
A long, drawn-out waiting tone. Once, twice... just as it was about to automatically disconnect, the call suddenly connected.
However, it was not Zong Heng who appeared in the picture.
"Miss Xu?" A strange man in a sharp suit appeared in the frame. "President Zong is currently negotiating; I'm keeping your phone safe."
"Please tell him..." her voice was calmer than she had imagined, "He saw the news and is waiting for his explanation."
The light of dusk gradually dimmed.
Xu Ying sat in the increasingly empty lounge, staring at her silent phone. The message showed as read, but there was no reply.
A light rain began to fall outside the window, and raindrops meandered into lines on the glass.
Three hours and twenty-seven minutes later, the phone finally vibrated—
[I'm in a meeting, I'll talk to you later.]
Six words, and a period.
Xu Ying placed her phone face down on the table, and as she stood up, she knocked over the already cold coffee. The dark brown liquid smeared across the white design draft, like an ugly scar.
Xu Ying jolted awake, frantically grabbing her phone from the bedside table. The instant the screen lit up, she instinctively held her breath—
Zong Heng's face appeared on the screen, with the familiar gray-white walls of his San Francisco apartment behind him. He had clearly just returned; his suit jacket was casually draped over the back of his chair, his tie was loosened and hung around his neck, and the top two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a glimpse of his collarbone. There were faint dark circles under his eyes, and his brows showed obvious fatigue, but his dark eyes remained sharp, staring directly at him through the screen.
"You're still awake?" His voice was a little hoarse, and his brows were slightly furrowed.
Xu Ying leaned against the headboard, her fingers unconsciously gripping the corner of the blanket. She didn't turn on the light; only the cold light from her laptop illuminated her face, making her complexion appear even paler.
"I'll wait for your explanation." She spoke softly, but her voice trembled slightly, a tremor she herself didn't even notice.
Zong Heng paused for a moment, then raised his hand to rub his temples. This action caused the watch strap on his wrist to slip slightly, revealing a faint scar underneath—a scar he got when he fought for her in their senior year of high school.
“That’s Director Lin’s daughter,” he said calmly, as if stating a perfectly ordinary fact. “We met at a cocktail party, and the media wrote something out of nothing.”
Xu Ying stared at him, feeling as if a stone was pressing on her chest, making it difficult to breathe. She reached out and tapped on a pre-prepared news screenshot on her tablet, zoomed in, and then turned the screen towards him.
"Does a chance encounter require getting this close?" Her fingertip lightly touched the photo, where the Lin family's daughter was almost leaning towards Zong Heng, her red lips nearly touching his earlobe. "She's practically leaning into your arms."
Zong Heng's gaze swept over the photo, and his lips tightened for a moment.
“She was talking about project secrets,” his voice turned colder. “The place was too noisy, so what’s wrong with getting closer?”
"Too noisy?" Xu Ying suddenly laughed, a sharp glint in her voice. "What about the yacht dinner? Is that also for discussing projects?"
Zong Heng's gaze suddenly darkened.
"You investigated me?"
"Do I need to investigate?" Xu Ying suddenly raised her voice, swiping her finger through her phone's photo album, which prominently displayed the latest yacht photos published by that media outlet. "These news stories are everywhere; it's hard for me to avoid seeing them!"
Zong Heng's jawline was taut on the other end of the screen. He ripped off his tie and threw it aside, his Adam's apple bobbing as if he was trying his best to suppress some emotion.
“Xu Ying,” he said in a low voice, with a hint of warning, “when did you become so paranoid?”
These words were like a knife, piercing Xu Ying's heart.
She looked up abruptly, her eyes instantly reddening.
"Me, paranoid?" Her voice trembled. "Zong Heng, how many times have you replied to my messages in the past six months? The last video call was a month ago! I'm lucky if you reply to one out of ten of the messages I send you!"
"I'm vying for projects in Southeast Asia!" Zong Heng suddenly raised his voice, slamming his fist on the table, making the camera shake. "Those old fogies on the board are watching me for every mistake, I get less than four hours of sleep a night! Can't you be a little more understanding?"
"Understand?" Xu Ying seemed to have heard something ridiculous, and tears welled up in her eyes. "How can you expect me to understand? Understand that you're making headlines with other women? Understand that you make me wait three days for even an explanation?"
Her tears rolled down her cheeks, hitting the phone screen and blurring Zong Heng's face.
Zong Heng's face darkened completely.
"So you don't believe me." He sneered, his eyes sharp as knives. "Back when my dad locked me up in Los Angeles, who swore to trust me forever? Hmm?"
Xu Ying's breath hitched.
That was their most difficult time—Zong Heng was forcibly sent abroad by his father, cutting off all contact. She waited three whole months before receiving a letter he had secretly sent. In her reply, she wrote: "I believe in you, I always will."
But now—
“Trust is mutual!” she cried, her voice choked with emotion. “Then why do you never tell me these things on your own initiative? Why am I always the one who has to keep asking, like I’m begging for your time?”
Suddenly, the other side of the screen fell into complete silence.
Zong Heng's expression froze, his eyes were terrifyingly deep, as if something was shattering inch by inch.
Xu Ying's heart was beating faster and faster. She saw his fingers slowly tighten, his knuckles turning white.
"Fine." After a long pause, Zong Heng suddenly nodded, a cold smile curving his lips. "Since you're convinced I cheated, then so be it."
The video abruptly ended.
The moment the screen went black, Xu Ying felt as if all her strength had been drained away. The phone slipped from her palm and crashed heavily to the floor.
In the darkness, she curled up in a ball, biting her lip tightly, but still couldn't suppress her broken sobs.
This was their first time—
The first time I hung up on the other party.
——
Xu Ying stared at her phone screen, her fingertips hovering above the keyboard. She typed a line of text, then deleted it.
"Let's talk."
Too weak.
"How long are you planning to continue this silent treatment?"
Too sharp.
She didn't send anything in the end, just placed her phone face down on the table and got up to get some water. The dormitory curtains were drawn, making it impossible to distinguish between day and night. On the table were unfinished takeout boxes, a half-cold cup of coffee, and a half-open design sketchbook—the lines were messy, full of unconscious doodles.
Her gaze fell on the calendar. Three days had passed.
Ever since Zong Heng abruptly hung up on that video call, he'd vanished into thin air. No messages, no calls, not even updates to his social media accounts. She opened his Moments—the last post was from two weeks ago, a photo of a California sunset with a single word captioned: "Waiting."
At the time, she thought the word "wait" was directed at her.
Now she's unsure.
The laptop was still on, the page displayed on the latest report from that gossip media outlet.
Exclusive: Zong family heir secretly meets with Lin family heiress, spending a romantic night on a yacht!
The accompanying photo shows Zong Heng standing on the deck of a yacht, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing his muscular forearms. Miss Lin, wearing a white dress, is smiling and handing him a glass of champagne. Sunlight shines on them, creating a scene of dazzling harmony.
Xu Ying's fingertips slid down uncontrollably.
The comments section was filled with blessings:
"A perfect match! Much better than that previous student girl."
"I heard that the patriarch of the Zong family is very satisfied with this marriage."
"Didn't Chuanzong have a long-distance girlfriend before? It turns out that rich families just play around."
She slammed the laptop shut.
When her phone suddenly vibrated, Xu Ying practically lunged at it and grabbed it.
It's a message from my roommate: Yingying, have you finished the PPT for next week's design class?
Her shoulders slumped, and she mechanically replied: I'll send it to you later.
She put down her phone and stared blankly at the ceiling.
—Shouldn't this end?
The moment this thought crossed her mind, her heart felt like it was being gripped tightly by an invisible hand. She remembered Zong Heng gripping her hand tightly before the bodyguards escorted him onto the plane, saying, "Xu Ying, trust me."
She believed it.
I believed it for so long.
But what about now?
Xu Ying took a deep breath, opened the search bar, and entered "Zong Heng Lin Clan marriage alliance".
Countless links popped up.
Zong's Group and Lin's Enterprise Reach Strategic Cooperation, Possibly Paving the Way for a Marriage
Exclusive Scoop: The Zong family elders have already decided on Miss Lin as their daughter-in-law.
Unveiling Zong Heng's Mysterious Girlfriend: Five Years of Long-Distance Relationship, Suspected Breakup
Each one was like a knife, slowly slicing away her last bit of hope.
At two o'clock in the morning, Xu Ying finally couldn't resist and dialed the number she knew by heart.
The number you dialed is currently switched off.
She hung up and dialed again.
The number you dialed is currently switched off.
The third time, the fourth time... until the phone got hot, the mechanical female voice was still playing in my ears.
Xu Ying suddenly smiled.
She opened her email and scrolled to the bottom—it was the first email Zong Heng had sent her after he went abroad, containing only a few simple lines:
Xu Ying,
It's cold here.
Miss you.
She hid under her blanket in her dormitory and cried like a fool over those six words.
And now?
She opened the reply box, her fingers trembling as she typed:
“Zong Heng, we…”
Delete it.
"If you really fall for someone else, you can just tell me..."
Deleted again.
In the end, she only posted one sentence:
Do you still want me?
The moment she sent it, she regretted it. It was too humiliating.
But before she could retract the message, her email suddenly indicated that the message had failed to send—the network connection had been interrupted.
Xu Ying stared at the red exclamation mark, then suddenly grabbed her phone and smashed it against the wall.
Bang--!
The sound of the screen shattering was particularly jarring in the quiet night.
On the morning of the fourth day, Xu Ying was awakened by a knock on the door.
She opened the door groggily, and the courier handed her a thin folder: "International express delivery, please sign for it."
No sender information.
She opened the folder; inside was a USB drive and a note with a line printed on it:
See for yourself.
The handwriting was so sharp it looked like it had been carved with a knife; she recognized it immediately as Zong Heng's.
When I plugged the USB drive into the computer, a video file popped up.
The footage is from a hotel corridor surveillance camera, and the time stamp shows it was three days ago—the night the media reported on the "night spent on a yacht."
In the video, Zong Heng and Ms. Lin walk out of the elevator one after the other. Ms. Lin reaches out to take his arm, but he turns away to avoid it.
"Young Master Zong, don't be so cold." Miss Lin's voice came through the monitor microphone, tinged with a hint of coquettishness, "My dad said..."
“Miss Lin,” Zong Heng interrupted her, his tone as cold as ice, “Cooperation is fine, but nothing else is up for discussion.”
"Does your girlfriend know how heartless you are?" Ms. Lin suddenly laughed. "I've heard long-distance relationships are tough. I wonder if she'll..."
Zong Heng turned around abruptly.
The surveillance footage didn't capture his facial expression, but his low, warning voice could be clearly heard:
“If you mention her even once more, I will immediately withdraw my investment from this project.”
Miss Lin's expression changed.
At the end of the video, she handed over a room key, but Zong Heng didn't even look at it and walked directly to another elevator.
Xu Ying stared at the blacked-out screen, feeling as if all her strength had been drained away.
She misunderstood him.
Those media photos were staged, those rumors were just hype, he even threatened his business partner's daughter for her...
But why doesn't he explain?
Why would you rather send surveillance video than make a phone call in person?
She grabbed her phone, only to find that the phone she'd dropped the night before had automatically shut down. She charged it, turned it on, and a dozen unread messages flooded in instantly—
They all came from the same number.
The earliest one was the time she sent the email last night:
Xu Ying, answer the phone.
Three minutes later:
Where the hell are you?
Five minutes later:
Why is my phone turned off?
The last one is at 4 AM:
I'll reply once I receive the USB drive.
Xu Ying's fingers hovered over the keyboard, suddenly unsure how to reply.
Should I apologize for misunderstanding you?
Why don't you explain it verbally?
Just as I was hesitating, a caller ID popped up on the screen—
Zong Heng.
Her hand trembled, and she pressed the answer button.
"Xu Ying".
The voice on the other end of the phone was incredibly hoarse, as if he hadn't slept for days.
"You watched the video?"
"I saw it."
"Should we break up?"
Her nose stung with tears, but she didn't say anything.
Zong Heng took a deep breath and suddenly gritted his teeth:
"I really want to strangle you."
The breathing on the other end of the phone was heavy and suppressed.
Xu Ying suddenly stood up, her knee hitting the corner of the table without her noticing. "Where are you?"
"Downstairs in your dorm building."
She rushed to the window and yanked back the curtains. In the morning light, that familiar figure stood under the sycamore tree in front of the dormitory building, his black trench coat still wrinkled from the long flight, his left hand holding a phone, his right hand dragging a carry-on suitcase. He seemed to sense her gaze and looked up.
His features had become sharper, his jawline taut, and there were obvious dark circles under his eyes. But those eyes—those eyes that always held impatience yet were only gentle towards her—still made her heart stop, even from three floors away.
"You...how could you..." Xu Ying's voice caught in her throat.
"Did you watch the video?" he asked again, his voice coming through both the phone and the air, with a slight echo.
Xu Ying nodded, then realized he might not be able to see clearly, and whispered "Mmm".
"You still think I cheated on you?"
She saw him raise his left hand and rub his temples, a familiar gesture that suddenly brought tears to her eyes. He used to do that when he stayed up late doing homework.
"I..."
"Xu Ying," he interrupted her, his voice suddenly lowering, "look at me."
She had to look him straight in the eye. Even from this distance, she could feel the weight of his gaze.
"I'm saying this one last time," he said, emphasizing each word, "in this life, and the next, and the life after that, there will only be you. Do you understand?"
Xu Ying's tears finally fell. She wanted to say she understood, she wanted to say sorry, but all her words turned into sobs.
Zong Heng sighed, and the sigh, carried by the twelve-hour flight and his longing, gently landed in her ear through the microphone.
"Now, you have three minutes. Change your clothes and come downstairs." He paused, his voice suddenly turning dangerous. "Or I'll come up. Your choice."
Xu Ying took two minutes and forty seconds.
She hastily threw on a sweatshirt and rushed downstairs in her canvas shoes. Zong Heng was leaning against a tree trunk, resting with his eyes closed. Hearing footsteps, he opened his eyes, his gaze sweeping from her disheveled hair to her bare ankles, and his brows furrowed even more.
"You just like that—"
Before he could finish speaking, Xu Ying threw herself into his arms, causing him to stumble back half a step, and her suitcase fell to the ground with a thud.
Zong Heng froze for a moment, then tightened his arms around her, so forcefully that she could hardly breathe. His chin rested on the top of her head, his breath carrying the familiar scent of mint tobacco, mixed with the fatigue of a long flight.
"You bastard..." Xu Ying buried her face in his chest, her voice muffled, "Why didn't you explain sooner..."
"I was in Singapore discussing mergers and acquisitions," his voice boomed from his chest, making her eardrums tingle. "I was already on the plane when I saw the news."
"You can make a phone call..."
"Twelve were taken down," he sneered. "Some idiot turned off his phone."
Remembering the phone she had smashed, Xu Ying guiltily snuggled closer to him. This action seemed to please Zong Heng, as she felt his arms tighten slightly.
"Where's the ring?" he suddenly asked.
Xu Ying pulled the necklace out of her collar; the silver ring on the chain rested against her chest. "Here."
"So," Zong Heng pinched her ring finger, "are we still breaking up?"
Morning light filtered through the leaves, casting dappled golden shadows beneath his eyelashes. Xu Ying suddenly noticed that beneath his eyes were not only tired dark circles, but also very faint, not fully healed scars.
She reached out and touched the scar: "This is..."
Zong Heng turned his head away: "Answer me first."
Xu Ying took a deep breath, stood on tiptoe, and kissed him on the corner of his tense lips: "It depends on your performance."
The kiss was like flipping a switch. Zong Heng's eyes darkened, and he gripped the back of her head, kissing her deeply. The kiss carried suppressed anger and longing, almost taking her breath away. When he finally released her, both of them were panting heavily.
"Xu Ying," he said, his voice hoarse as he pressed his forehead against hers, "this is the last time."
"What?"
"This is the last time I'll give you the chance to say goodbye." He looked into her eyes. "If there's one more chance, I'll lock you in the house, and you won't be able to go anywhere."
Xu Ying didn't say anything, she just hugged him tightly.
Zong Heng took her to an amusement park on the outskirts of the city.
The amusement park was nearly empty in late autumn. Zong Heng bought a pass for the entire park and dragged Xu Ying to play on each ride one by one.
"Aren't you childish?" Xu Ying was dragged onto the pirate ship by him, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.
“In the last video call, you said you’d never been to an amusement park before.” Zong Heng fastened her seatbelt, his fingertips lightly brushing against her waist. “Today, we’ll make up for it all.”
When the pirate ship swung to its highest point, Xu Ying closed her eyes in fright, but Zong Heng laughed and hugged her tightly: "If you're scared, hold on tight!"
The wind howled, her screams mingled with his laughter, and her heart pounded as if it were about to burst out of her chest.
In the evening, they rode the Ferris wheel.
The setting sun bathed the entire carriage in gold. Xu Ying pressed her face against the glass, watching the ground gradually shrink, when she suddenly felt Zong Heng hug her from behind.
"Xu Ying." He called her name softly, his breath falling on her neck. "Turn around."
She had just turned around when he pressed her against the glass and kissed her. The kiss was much gentler than the one in the car, yet more lingering. Zong Heng's hands were on her lower back, their warmth burning her skin through her clothes.
When the Ferris wheel reached its highest point, he stepped back slightly, his forehead touching hers: "I've heard that couples who kiss at the top will never be apart."
Xu Ying's eyes suddenly stung.
Where do they get a lifetime? Eight hours later, he will fly back to that faraway country.
Zong Heng seemed to read her mind, and pinched her chin: "Don't cry. I promise, this is the last time we'll be apart."
On the way back to the city, Xu Ying noticed that Zong Heng kept checking his watch.
"What time is your flight?" she asked softly.
"It's one in the morning." He squeezed her hand. "I can still stay with you for three hours."
They went to a small hot pot restaurant near the university town, the one he used to take her to in high school. Zong Heng put all the cooked beef slices into her bowl, just like before.
"That's enough..." Xu Ying protested softly.
"You've lost weight." He frowned. "Were you staying up all night drawing again?"
She lowered her head and drank her juice, not daring to mention that she often stayed up until the early hours of the morning waiting for his video call.
The separation came faster than I imagined.
The taxi stopped at the airport departure level. Zong Heng pulled Xu Ying behind a pillar and kissed her fiercely.
“It’s my father’s birthday next month, I have to go back.” He pressed his forehead against hers, panting. “But soon, Xu Ying, I’ll be back completely.”
She clutched the hem of his shirt: "What if... what if it still doesn't work?"
The boarding announcement came from afar, and he kissed her tearful eyes one last time: "Wait for me."
Then he turned and walked into the security checkpoint without looking back.
Xu Ying stood outside the glass door, watching his back disappear into the crowd. The vow at the top of the Ferris wheel was as burning hot as the necklace around her neck.
Eight hours, like a dream.
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