16

Cen Lingqiu didn't like it when others cried in front of her.

When her younger siblings were little, they were unruly and cried loudly whenever something displeased them. Their grandmother always blamed her, the eldest sister, for not taking care of them properly and punished her, often harshly. She came to associate tears with her own physical suffering.

Because of this, she grew to dislike anyone crying in her presence. It brought back unpleasant memories of her siblings' shrill wailing, making her feel irritable and impatient.

But now, Yu Mingjiao was curled up against her, her tears soaking into Cen Lingqiu's skin. Unlike her siblings' piercing, unreasonable cries, Yu Mingjiao's sobs were muffled and restrained, almost as if she was ashamed of her tears. Her whole body trembled, and her quiet whimpers carried a deep sense of despair.

It was as though a severely wounded, young animal was hiding its vulnerability, afraid to show its pain to others, only daring to lick its wounds in the dark.

For some reason, Cen Lingqiu didn't feel the usual irritation she associated with crying. Perhaps it was because she could sense the weight of Yu Mingjiao's suppressed sorrow. Gently, she continued to stroke Yu Mingjiao's soft, black hair, offering silent comfort through her touch.

After a long while, Yu Mingjiao's tears finally stopped.

Cen Lingqiu carefully helped her onto the couch, where she lay in a daze, too emotionally drained to resist Cen Lingqiu's ministrations.

Cen Lingqiu wiped the tears and blood from Yu Mingjiao's face with a damp cloth. The younger woman's lips were chapped and cracked, a testament to how hard she had been biting them during her breakdown.

As Yu Mingjiao began to regain some awareness, she noticed Cen Lingqiu's close proximity. She could see every detail of Cen Lingqiu's face—the arch of her brows, the straight lashes, the thin lips painted in a vivid red that contrasted sharply with her pale skin. A small cut marred the perfection of her face, still unbandaged.

Yu Mingjiao's gaze traveled down to Cen Lingqiu's hands, noticing the scratches and bruises on her knuckles and the deep red marks around her neck. She realized with a start that these were injuries she had inflicted during her outburst.

Lowering her gaze, Yu Mingjiao murmured softly, "Are you okay?"

Cen Lingqiu paused in her work, lifting an eyebrow in mild surprise. "Is that concern I hear?"

Yu Mingjiao remained silent, her expression guarded.

With a slight chuckle, Cen Lingqiu shrugged off the remark. "I'm fine. I took a small tumble on the way here," she said, dismissively gesturing to her scraped knee as she continued to apply ointment.

Yu Mingjiao watched her, noting how methodical and practiced her movements were. Despite her refined appearance, Cen Lingqiu seemed oddly accustomed to treating wounds, something that didn't quite match the image of a pampered heiress.

After finishing, Cen Lingqiu looked at Yu Mingjiao and offered her phone. "Remove me from your blacklist or add me on WeChat," she said, her tone light.

Yu Mingjiao stared at the phone but hesitated. "Why?"

"In case something happens, I need to be able to reach you," Cen Lingqiu replied, her tone matter-of-fact.

The room fell silent as they locked eyes, neither of them moving. The tension between them was palpable, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. After a long moment, Cen Lingqiu sighed softly, a faint hint of disappointment crossing her face.

"It's okay," she said, pulling back her phone with a calm expression. "I'll make some seafood porridge tonight and bring you some later."

With that, she grabbed her bag and slipped out of her shoes, holding them in one hand as she waved goodbye with the other. "See you later."

Yu Mingjiao watched her limp toward the door, the faintest whisper slipping past her lips. "Cen Lingqiu…"

Cen Lingqiu paused, turning back with a questioning look.

But Yu Mingjiao quickly retracted whatever she had been about to say, her tone reverting to its usual indifference. "Never mind. Just go."

For a moment, Cen Lingqiu looked at her, then without another word, turned and left.

Yu Mingjiao stood alone, staring at the door for a long while. She had wanted to say "thank you," but the words stuck in her throat. After everything that had happened between them, gratitude seemed impossible, almost like a betrayal of herself.

She knew she had to hold on to her hatred, that she could never allow herself to forgive Cen Lingqiu. They had crossed a line that could never be uncrossed.

So, Yu Mingjiao swallowed the words she would never say, burying them deep inside, where they would remain forever unspoken.