118: Heartache

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The moon hung like a pale silver coin over Yunhe Garden, casting its soft glow over the carefully landscaped lawns and pristine marble walkways.

Lin Yue swiped her card at the security gate, and the automatic door clicked open with a soft beep.

She walked slowly to her apartment, her sneakers brushing quietly against the smooth tiles.

The moment she stepped into her warm, softly lit apartment, she sighed deeply.

Home.

She slipped out of her sneakers and padded softly into her bedroom.

Her eyes landed on the shoe rack by the door, and there it was—tall, sleek, and unmistakably out of place.

The black umbrella.

She paused.

A bittersweet expression slowly crept across her face. Her fingers hovered over the handle before brushing against the smooth fabric.

The memories from that rainy night returned vividly—the warmth of the car's interior, Liang Yexuan's rare silence, the sound of raindrops pelting against the windshield.

And then, as she had gotten out, he'd told his assistant to hand her this umbrella.

The first time he'd been close to her… without the coldness. Without the memory of who she once was to him.

"Will he ever remember me?" she whispered to the umbrella, her voice filled with aching hope.

She then turned to the mirror. Her hand lifted and pressed against her stomach gently.

There it was. The small bump. It wasn't obvious under her hoodie, but standing here in front of her mirror, she could see it now—undeniably there.

It wasn't her imagination.

"I'm barely two and a half months," she murmured. "Why does it look like three… or four?"

Concern flashed across her features. Her fingers brushed her abdomen slowly, protectively.

"Is this normal?"

She made a mental note to visit the hospital after work tomorrow. She couldn't ignore it.

—

For now, she needed a shower. Her limbs ached.

Letting out a tired sigh, she walked into the bathroom.

Steam quickly filled the space as she stepped under the shower, allowing the water to ease her tense muscles.

The warmth melted the ache in her shoulders, but her mind remained clouded.

Minutes later, she emerged wrapped in a towel, her long damp hair clinging to her back.

—

Later, dressed in a soft, silk nightie that clung gently to her frame, hair tied up in a loose ponytail, she padded into the kitchen. Her stomach growled.

She quickly whipped up a simple stir-fry and set a bowl of rice on the coffee table in the living room.

The television played a drama in the background, the actors arguing about betrayal and destiny, but Lin Yue wasn't really watching.

She was curled up with her legs folded beneath her, the aroma of food rising around her.

Her phone buzzed from inside her handbag resting on the small couch.

She frowned.

This late?

She rose, walked over, and pulled out the phone. The caller ID made her pause.

Mo Yuwei.

Surprised, Lin Yue answered immediately. "Yuwei? What's up? Why are you calling so late?"

But the voice on the other end was… off.

Not her usual cheerful tone.

Mo Yuwei's tone was calm. Too calm. "Are your colleagues still coming over tomorrow?"

Lin Yue blinked. "Uh… yeah. Why?"

"I've arranged people already. They'll be there in the morning."

"Okay…" Lin Yue hesitated. "Is everything alright?"

A pause.

Then: "Just a small problem."

Lin Yue frowned. "What problem?"

Another pause.

"I'll come by tomorrow. We'll talk then."

That only made her worry more.

"Yuwei—"

"Tomorrow, Yueyue. I'll come over. Get some rest."

And then the line went dead.

Lin Yue stared at her phone for a long moment. Her heart felt heavy.

She sat back down, the half-eaten bowl forgotten. Mo Yuwei's voice echoed in her mind. It had been too calm.

Cold, even.

What's going on…?

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At Jingyun Imperial Garden, one of the most luxurious villas glowed softly under golden lights.

Inside the elegant living room, Mo Yuwei sat on the couch, dressed in a simple yet elegant loungewear set.

Her eyes were downcast, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve.

Beside her sat Chen Linfei, stern and visibly agitated.

"You're seriously doing this?" he asked, voice low but firm. "You're willingly stepping into danger. Do you even understand what kind of people you're going against?"

"I know."

"You don't know. You don't know what kind of people Fang Zemin and Gu Yanchuan are," he continued. "They're not just petty. They're dangerous. And if they really did kill that girl—Yan Qingsi, or whatever her name was—then this isn't something you should poke around in."

Mo Yuwei looked down at her lap.

Her brows furrowed as she thought of Xu Jiaqi… The way she'd narrated the story.

She looked... helpless.

Chen Linfei reached out, grabbing her wrist. "It's fine if you want to help Lin Yue. She might be our cousin. But Xu Jiaqi? You don't even know her. And that dead girl? You've never even met her. Why are you putting yourself in danger for strangers?"

She looked up finally, her large eyes calm but resolute. "Because I can't stand injustice, Linfei. I've always been like this."

"Xu Jiaqi is a stranger. And the dead girl—Yuwei, you never even met her. What if you're being used?"

She bit her lip. "Maybe I am. Maybe I'm not. But if I turn a blind eye now, then what do I stand for?"

Chen Linfei rubbed his temples. "Or maybe you just want to make my heart ache. You know how worried I get."

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears.

Mo Yuwei placed her hand over his and leaned into his shoulder. "I know you're worried. I'd be scared too if you were in my position. But I can't stand by and do nothing."

Chen Linfei didn't respond for a moment. Then he sighed deeply and kissed the top of her head.

"You're stubborn," he muttered.

She grinned up at him. "You knew that when you married me."

He smiled faintly, shaking his head. "Promise me—if things get serious, you'll walk away."

"I promise," she whispered.

"Tell me everything before you act."

"I will."

He lifted her chin with a finger. "Good."

Then, without another word, he kissed her. It was soft at first—gentle. A brush of lips against lips.

But when she didn't pull away, his grip on her waist tightened.

Her breath hitched.

He deepened the kiss.

His hand slid behind her neck, cradling her as her body pressed against his.

His lips moved against hers with quiet urgency, and her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

The kiss grew more passionate. She gasped softly as he pushed her gently back onto the couch.

His body hovered above hers, eyes dark with desire.

She smiled blushing, "You agree?"

"You'll have to thank me properly for letting you meddle in danger," he whispered against her ear.

Her laugh was breathless. "You're impossible…"

But she didn't stop him.

Their shadows tangled under the soft golden light.

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