Chapter Ninety-Four: Only Knows How to Pretend to Be Strong, Not How to Feign Weakness

Xi Mintang did not appear the least bit flustered; instead, Xiaoxiao hurriedly picked up a napkin and reached across the table to help him wipe. He avoided her hand. “It’s nothing. The weather’s hot; a bit of restlessness is inevitable.”

“Lin Shuo, you’ve gone too far!” Only after Xi Mintang had left did she let her anger flare. “I know you’re upset, but you should at least consider who you are. How are you going to clean up this mess?”

“Clean up? Who was it that thought things hadn’t gotten messy enough? Xi Mintang set the stage; do you see him making any move to end it?” Lin Shuo pulled her down to sit, taking the napkin from her hand.

“That still doesn’t mean you should throw wine at him!” She truly couldn’t bear it. To Xi Mintang, that glass of wine was nothing short of a humiliation.

Lin Shuo cut the steak into small pieces and placed them before her, wiped his hands, and said with meaning, “He’s reaching for what he shouldn’t want. It’s a delusion. I merely helped him wake up.”

It was rare to share a meal with Lin Shuo, especially with him personally serving her. Yet the memory of that glass of wine drained away any appetite she might have had. Perhaps she remained now only because she didn’t want to exit his life too soon.

He said, “Tomorrow, I’ll pick you up after work.”

She turned to him and smiled, as radiant as the sunlight outside. In his eyes, it struck him to the core.

Toward Xi Mintang, Xiaoxiao was full of apology. She pondered how to make amends without seeming too deliberate, but after much thought, not a single idea came to her, leaving her thoroughly discouraged. Instead, Xi Mintang’s magnanimity surprised her; only a few days later, he took the initiative to meet her and offered her a check.

“What’s this for?”

“Lin Shuo had it sent.”

She remembered Lin Shuo’s promise to compensate him for the suit that day—always a man of his word. She pushed the check back. “He gave it to you, so just keep it. It was his fault, after all.” Her tone was intimate, like a wife helping her husband sort out a problem.

“I prefer people to owe me.” He knew that even if he didn’t seek her out, eventually she would come to reconcile for Lin Shuo’s sake.

She stopped resisting, took the check and teased, “With your nonchalance, how’s anyone else supposed to survive?”

“Don’t you often pretend nothing matters?” Xi Mintang’s jest was not without merit. Now, it seemed she and Lin Shuo were together again; she acted unconcerned, but at the slightest whiff of trouble, she’d be plunged back into old torment. He asked, “Why insist on butting heads with him?”

“If I fail, there’s only one reason.” She paused. “I can only pretend to be strong, never to be pitiful.”

“Xiaoxiao.” Xi Mintang’s voice was gentle with concern. “Are you sure you know what road you’re on?”

“The road back.”

Xi Mintang sighed deeply. “If you can’t find your way back, turn around and come to me.”

She gave no reply.

Not everything about the Shundu incident was negative; at the very least, Lin Shuo came to understand her feelings through it. He began to reflect on the past—had he, blinded by pain, chosen only to believe what he wished, convinced himself of what seemed reasonable, and thus overlooked the truth? He quietly instructed Zhao Jun to intensify the investigation. The mystery that had plagued him, after four years, had grown into an unbearable snowball, weighing heavily on his heart. Four years—no matter how deep the wounds, time would heal them. He no longer wished to run away.