Chapter Twenty-Eight: Pretending to Be a Virtuous Woman

They were so close that every breath he took sent a chill through her from head to toe.

After a moment, he sneered and asked, “Didn’t you say it was just about mutual needs? Well, I need you right now—why are you still pretending to be some chaste, virtuous woman?”

Smack!

A sharp slap rang out across his face. He was only jolted to the side for a moment before turning back, glaring at her with eyes blazing with fury. Refusing to be humiliated, Xiaoxiao straightened her back and spoke with steely resolve, “I’ve told you before, I’m not a prostitute. I’m not obligated to be at your beck and call twenty-four hours a day. If you’re just looking for an outlet, I’m sorry—you’ve got the wrong person.”

He snorted contemptuously through his nose and went on, “It’s not that I’ve got the wrong person. You’ve just found yourself a steady meal ticket, haven’t you?” Fearing she wouldn’t understand, he added, “Don’t deny it—I saw him bring you back. What, you’re already trying to clean up your act? Is he rich? Or is it something else you’re after? Just don’t feed me that line about him being able to make you happy.”

At the mention of Xi Mintang, Xiaoxiao felt nothing but guilt for having dragged him into this mess.

Lin Shuo pressed in on her, shoving her shoulders. “Putting on this show of pity—who’s it for? Just how happy are you? Let me see for myself!” He felt as if he were on the verge of breaking apart; another man had come between them, and what’s more, that man had won her sympathy.

How she wanted to say that the person she pitied wasn’t Xi Mintang, but him. Standing before him now, he seemed a stranger—how much pain had it taken to turn him into someone so unrecognizable?

“Lin Shuo, you’re wrong. You’ve been wrong from the start. I thought four years would be enough for you to figure things out, but instead you’ve only gotten worse.” She drew a long, trembling breath, tears that had been gathering slowly retreating from her eyes. “Four years, and you’re still wrong. Yes, I want happiness—but not so you can see it.”

“Liar!” Lin Shuo’s grip on her shoulders was painful as he questioned her, word by word, “Can you really say you spent those four years alone without waiting for me?”

“If you want to hear it so badly, then I’ll tell you.” Xiaoxiao blinked back her tears and replied in a calm, even tone, “I wasn’t waiting for you. It’s just that, for these four years, there was no one else worth waiting for.”

The words struck him like a blow. All the fierceness drained from him, and he stood there, head bowed in defeat.

She calmly pried his hand away and, as she opened the door, a sharp pain stabbed her heart.

“Go,” she said.

She could no longer remember how he left that night, nor whether she herself had cried. All she recalled was realizing a few things. As a child, she’d loved playing with her father’s carbon paper—the blue sheets with their faint, acrid smell. Press down hard enough, and the image would be copied onto the page below. She’d thought it magical. Later, she learned the word: ‘copy.’ But what saddened her most was the realization that so many things and people in this world exist only once. If you miss them, they’re gone forever; and even if you meet again, they’re never the same.

Memories of the past returned to her more and more often.

That May Day holiday, Lin Shuo had planned their trip to Tengchong well in advance. The night before they left, Xiaoxiao was too excited to sleep. She’d read so many romance novels and watched so many films and television dramas; her greatest wish was to be like those heroines, spending her days with her beloved in some picturesque place until old age. When Lin Shuo handed her the train ticket, she pinched her cheeks to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Only after several tries did she believe it was real, and Lin Shuo merely smiled at her—a smile full of indulgence.

Lonely Hours, Chapter 28: Stop Pretending to Be a Chaste Martyr—End of Update.