First Love (Part I)

At the end of the corridor, Li Chengyuan's shadow nearly melted into the darkness. His pace was not speedy, but each step felt like it landed at the edge of a storm, which was heavy enough to suffocate.

"Wait." Bai WanYi suddenly spoke, her voice sharp and clear, like a blade slicing through the silence.

Li Chengyuan stopped in his tracks and slowly turned around. He looked at the woman before him, his gaze was filled with conflicting emotions, as if the decision he had just made had been suddenly traumatised by unexpected things.

Bai WanYi walked toward him, step by step, the light cascading over her figure. Her exquisite face was sharp as a blade, which was serene, steely, and impossibly perfect.

"This money is for rescuing Zeyang only." She came to a halt, her voice soft but every word rang with steely force, "You'd better not have any other plans."

A slight crease formed between Li Chengyuan's brows, his face growing visibly darker: "What exactly are you trying to say?"

"Don't even think about using that money to rescue that child." Bai WanYi's eyes were emotionless, as if she had already seen through the trace of unwillingness and inner struggle hidden in his heart.

The air grew suddenly heavy.

Li Chengyuan's face darkened, his eyes flashing with a fierce blend of anger and disappointment, like a storm gathering behind a fragile calm. He clenched his teeth, suppressing the emotions that were about to burst out: "Junxi is also my son."

Bai WanYi looked at him with a chilling calm, as if he were a stranger whose face she had seen a thousand times.

"I know." She slowly uttered the words, and then her tone changed, with determination and sharpness: "But he is not mine."

That single sentence rang out like an alarm, a warning, and a blade which was rapid and merciless, cutting straight to the throat.

Li Chengyuan stood motionless, as though her words had turned to ice, freezing his breath and locking his body in place. He wanted to say something, but no sound came out. The things he had suppressed for years churned in his chest, the pain was so intense, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Bai WanYi stared at him, her expression utterly cold, with not even a flicker of emotion in her eyes.

She turned to leave but stopped just before walking away, her back straight and proud, cold and distant.

"I don't care what you're thinking," she said. "If you dare touch even a single cent of the Bai family's money today, I'll consider you no longer my husband—from this moment on, you have nothing to do with me."

She didn't look at him again, leaving behind a resolute figure that slowly disappeared down the corridor.

Li Chengyuan stood there, not moving for a longer time.

He finally realised that this kidnapping was not only a test of the children's lives, but also a reckoning for their marriage. After more than ten years, the fragile bond, already full of cracks finally collapsed. He lowered his head to the heavy black briefcase at his feet, his thoughts surging uncontrollably.

Ten million. Isn't that enough?

How could it not be?

A sum like that should be more than enough to save a child—both of them, if used wisely.

He raised his head, staring at Wanyi's receding figure, and said in a low and hoarse voice:

"...You know this money could save them both."

She didn't slow. Her words came lightly, almost gently, yet each syllable struck with deliberate cruelty:

"But I only intend to save my own son."

The words were like a knife, cutting off his last ray of hope.

"Wanyi." He clenched his teeth and finally spoke, his tone no longer stable, "I'm not asking for a share. I just want to save them both. Junxi... he grew up beside Zeyang. I watched him grow. I..."

"I don't care." She finally stopped, turning slightly but never fully facing him, leaving him only a cold, cutting silhouette.

"I'm not his mother."

After she finished speaking, she walked away without looking back.

Only Li Chengyuan remained, standing at the end of the corridor, staring down at the briefcase in his hands.

Ten million. And yet… only enough for one?

At this moment, he had a deep doubt for the first time:

"Wanyi...did you really give me all the money?"

Or was this amount, "Just enough to redeem one person", the answer you had already calculated?

The briefcase felt heavier now, not just in weight but in meaning. It pressed into his fingers, into his conscience, like something forged not of money—but of intent.