Chen Hede leaned against a pillar, his fingertips unconsciously stroking the faded fabric of his sleeve. A bitter smile, more painful than a grimace, tugged at the corner of his lips, and his voice was hoarse with weariness: "Now you should believe me, right?"
Xu Zhuohua stood a few steps away, her fingers gripping her clothes so tightly that her knuckles turned white.
She looked up at Chen Hede, her eyes slightly red, her voice trembling almost imperceptibly: "I believe you, I know you won't hurt me."
The moment the words were spoken, the air seemed to freeze.
She specifically emphasized that "it won't harm me," rather than involving Cheng Muyun—this subtle difference was like a fine needle, gently piercing the taut membrane in Chen Hede's heart.
He knew that she understood him after all, understood the protection and planning he had been hiding beneath his calm exterior these past few days.
Chen Hede turned his face away, his eyes suddenly welling up with tears, blurring his vision.
He sniffed, his voice low and hoarse, almost a whisper: "You know that's good."
After saying that, he turned to leave, as if if he stayed any longer, his barely contained emotions would burst forth.
But he had only taken half a step when Xu Zhuohua's urgent voice called out from behind: "Chen Hede!"
He stopped in his tracks, slowly turned around, his brows furrowed slightly, and a hint of barely perceptible doubt in his eyes: "What's wrong?"
Xu Zhuohua's hands were clenched together under her clothes, and her fingertips were damp with sweat.
She lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes casting faint shadows beneath them. After a moment's hesitation, she looked up and spoke softly but clearly: "Before... Cheng Muyun attacked you, I apologize to you on his behalf."
Chen Hede was taken aback, then remembered that she was referring to the time on the ship.
He still vividly remembered Cheng Muyun's furious expression at that time, but now, when he thought back on it, it was as if he had seen through a layer of fog, and all his anger had vanished.
He waved his hand, his tone as casual as if he were talking about someone else's business: "No need to apologize. It was my fault for lying to him and leaving him alone in an empty house. I should bear his anger."
"No." Xu Zhuohua suddenly looked up, her clenched fingers turning red from the force.
She frowned, her tone stubborn: "It's understandable that he's unhappy. But I want to say that I've never blamed you. I felt very happy during my time recuperating at Nanhu. So, I won't blame you."
The last few words, though light and airy, seemed to carry a weight of warmth, striking straight into Chen Hede's heart.
He froze, feeling as if something inside his chest had suddenly shattered, and something scalding hot rushed up.
A real man, who has never shed a tear even in the midst of sword fights, suddenly felt a lump in his throat, and tears almost fell without warning.
He had secretly taken her away when she was seriously injured and unconscious, and traveled all the way to Nanhu. He had always carried a huge burden in his heart.
He didn't ask her if she was willing, and he was even more afraid that she would resent him for making decisions on her own when she woke up, resent him for making her miss Cheng Muyun, and resent him for trapping her in that small world.
This guilt was like a thorn, sticking there for a long time, yet he didn't even have the courage to ask a question, afraid of hearing the answer that he couldn't bear.
But now, she has said it herself, that those days were happy, and that she doesn't blame him.
Chen Hede felt as if a heavy stone that had been pressing on his chest for so long had finally been lifted, and even his breathing became much easier.
He looked at Xu Zhuohua in front of him. She stood in the dim light under the corridor, her figure slender, her eyes bright with the clarity after the rain. Suddenly, a feeling of joy at something lost and found washed over him, warming his eyes.
He blinked hard, forcing back the moisture. His throat felt like it was blocked, and it took him a long time to squeeze out two words, hoarse and barely audible: "Thank you."
The moonlight, like a thin veil, blew the blue bricks in the courtyard white.
Xu Zhuohua looked at Chen Hede, her voice as soft as if carried by the wind: "I am the one who should say thank you. Chen Hede, during those days at Nanhu, I figured out a lot of things."
Chen Hede didn't turn around, but simply nodded slightly.
The moonlight outlined his features; his shoulders remained upright, but the slight hunch in the curve of his neck revealed a barely perceptible hunch, as if he had been burdened by something for a long time.
Xu Zhuohua bit her lower lip, leaving a slight red mark on her lips.
She took a deep breath, as if she had made a huge decision: "I'm telling you this not to win you over on behalf of Cheng Muyun. I just feel that you need to know—whether you choose to support him or not is your freedom. I will never blame you."
Chen Hede suddenly looked up, his mouth slightly open, his eyes reflecting Xu Zhuohua's face clearly as if moonlight had fallen upon them.
Her skirt swayed gently in the night breeze, but her eyes shone with an astonishing brightness, carrying an almost honest stubbornness.
“Supporting him has been too difficult.” Xu Zhuohua’s voice lowered, carrying a hint of hardship she herself didn’t realize. “You finally gained a foothold in the police station. Your reputation and the position of deputy director were all earned step by step. I won’t use morality to blackmail you. No matter what you choose, no matter whether you succeed or fail in the end, I won’t blame you. Really, I’m already very fortunate to have met you.”
Her words were like a pool of clear water, seemingly calm, but with undercurrents hidden beneath.
Chen Hede was so perceptive; how could he not understand those unspoken words?
Her tone made it sound like she was giving instructions.
It's true that I don't force him and I don't blame him.
But it is precisely because it is so real that it is even more alarming—she has clearly prepared for the worst.
If Cheng Muyun loses, if he doesn't come back, she probably... won't live on alone.
That resolute determination was exactly the same as the ruthlessness Cheng Muyun usually concealed beneath his gentleness; it was a determination to die for love, even at the cost of everything.
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