Chapter 4

Chapter 4

I felt that Wei Yan had become even more cautious around me.

Removing a tattoo is more painful than getting one. The laser hit his skin bit by bit, and after the first session, a faint trace still remained.

A layer of fine scabs formed over the area, making it even more conspicuous than before.

I knew something had shifted quietly between us. It was something neither of us mentioned, yet we both understood perfectly.

He started coming home less often, and he never let me touch his phone anymore.

I didn’t know exactly what he was doing, but I knew I was losing him, piece by piece.

Someone was going to steal him away.

I feared that his increasing tenderness and indulgence toward me stemmed from a single emotion-guilt.

That day, Wei Yan came home very late.

He carried the biting chill unique to late autumn. He looked exhausted, his brow furrowed, though he smoothed his expression the moment he saw me.

“Why aren’t you asleep yet?”

He walked over and habitually pulled the blanket on the sofa over my bare feet before reaching out to touch my forehead.

His hands were actually quite cool. I found myself craving that temperature, so I leaned my forehead against his palm.

“Wei Yan,” I called his name, my voice so low I could barely hear it myself.

“Who is that woman who follows you home every night?”

If I hadn’t taken a sudden interest in gardening, I might never have seen it from the balcony-every night, a red McLaren followed Wei Yan’s car.

Nor would I have seen that woman practically throwing herself at him every time she got out of her car.

He fell silent for a moment, pulling his hand away from my forehead.

“If I said I can’t shake her off, would you believe me?”

I gripped the blanket tightly and looked up into his eyes.

“She… she’s your ex-girlfriend, isn’t she?”

“Yes.”

His answer was crisp and direct.

“Do you still love her?”

“I hate her.”

Hate… huh.

How deeply must she be etched into his heart, how unforgettable must she be, for Wei Yan to use the word “hate”?

I gritted my teeth and stared at him. Yes, that’s just the kind of person I am-call it petty or ill-tempered, but I admit that in that moment, I was jealous to death of the woman he “hated.”

I stood up and went back to my room without a word.

The sound of the door slamming was loud; it was the first time I had ever lost my temper with Wei Yan.

Unwillingness, grievance, anger-all these emotions tangled together. I buried my head in the covers and suddenly burst into tears.

How could I compete with his ex-girlfriend? I wasn’t his first love, yet I had given him the entirety of my youth.

Why did his ex-girlfriend smile at me that day? Because she had nothing to fear.

Because she knew she had carved a wound so deep into him that he would never be able to forget her.

Wei Yan knocked on the door, but I didn’t answer. After a while, my phone vibrated a few times.

It was a WeChat message from him, telling me to make sure I covered myself with the blanket so I wouldn’t catch a cold.

I turned off the phone and tossed it aside. It had started raining again these past few days, as if the monsoon season would never end.

I had a dream. I dreamed I was clinging to the edge of a cliff. Wei Yan wanted to turn back to save me, but his ex-girlfriend pulled him away.