Chapter 9
Chapter 9
Shen Yu’s phone remained unreachable.
HR told her he had taken a long leave of absence.
Shi Wan asked everyone he knew, but not a single person knew where he had gone.
For the first time, Shi Wan felt a sense of agitation.
It was like working on a complex math problem where she had filled the pages with proofs and calculations, yet the final solution remained out of reach.
It was the tenth day of Shen Yu’s leave.
Another rainy day.
Shi Wan happened to run into Song Zhi downstairs.
Song Zhi froze for a moment when he saw her. “President Shi, did you and Shen Yu break up?”
Shi Wan wanted to say no, but when she opened her mouth, she found herself speechless.
Song Zhi turned his head to look at the torrential curtain of rain outside. It took a long time before he spoke again.
“You are far luckier than him.”
There was a certain contradiction within Shen Yu.
The first time Shi Wan met him, she had momentarily mistaken him for the Chu Kuo of the past.
She admitted that her heart had been stirred because of that resemblance, but as time went on, she realized he was far too different from Chu Kuo.
Shen Yu was gentle in his dealings with others, always wearing a smile for everyone.
But occasionally, when she stumbled upon Shen Yu alone, he looked like a soulless puppet, his face devoid of expression.
Then, the moment she called his name, it was as if he were wound up like a clockwork toy, suddenly becoming vivid and alive.
After they started dating, there was actually very little physical intimacy between them.
Shen Yu was never natural when he was close to her; he was both too slow and too polite.
The most boundary-crossing act between them had been nothing more than a kiss she left on his cheek.
She had assumed he was just shy.
Yet he would always stand at a distance-neither too close nor too far-and stare at her in a daze.
Shi Wan had once caught that look in his eyes by chance.
It was like falling into a snowy plain that stretched for thousands of miles.
The things hidden within that gaze were far too complex.
The only thing she could clearly glimpse was an overwhelming, cascading sense of love.
She thought he loved her.
Little did she know.
They were both liars.
She knew nothing of his past.
For instance, his habitually indifferent emotions, his family that he refused to discuss, or the crisscrossing scars on his body.
Despite these glaring points of suspicion, she remained completely in the dark.
Two days before Shen Yu’s leave was set to end, Shi Wan went to the cemetery Song Zhi had mentioned.
The staff member at the entrance blanked for a moment when he saw her face. A name slipped out of his mouth: “Song An’an.”
Shi Wan frowned.
The middle-aged man scratched his head, looking apologetic. “I’m sorry. You must be here to see her, right?”
“Are you two twin sisters?”
Shi Wan didn’t answer, asking instead, “How do you remember her?”
He gave a small smile. “I’ve worked here for three years.”
“There’s a young man who comes every week, rain or shine.”
“He’s never missed a single time.”
Out of curiosity, the man had eventually wanted to know who was buried there that mattered so much to him.
A girl in her early twenties.
When she smiled, there were shallow dimples at the corners of her mouth.
That was how he remembered her.
Shi Wan’s expression could hardly be described as good.
She found out where Song An’an was located and walked toward the spot.
The wind howled through the cemetery.
A figure stood before Song An’an’s grave.
Shen Yu’s silhouette was thin, looking somewhat lonely and desolate.
Among the garden of graves, he stood like a monument of a different kind.
She spoke.
“Shen Yu.”