Chapter 4

Chapter 4

How tragic it is that the intense love of youth could end in such mutual disappointment.

At eighteen, I saw Zhou Huaian again at a college gala. I had been pulled in at the last minute to fill a spot as a dancer.

I thought it would be nothing more than another chance encounter, but it turned out to be the beginning of so much entanglement.

I was wearing a pure white tutu, waiting for someone off to the side.

I didn’t know if he had been there all along or if he had just arrived. Holding a cigarette out the window, he called out lazily, “Little Swan?”

I turned my head and recognized him instantly, my eyes lighting up for a brief moment.

He gave a low chuckle. “I didn’t mistake you. It really is you.”

I walked over and asked curiously, “What are you doing here?”

He leaned down, and the wind carried his clean, pleasant scent toward me.

“I was bored and just wandering around. Ended up here.”

He sounded like he was coaxing a child, but there was no need for me to take him too seriously.

He continued to cajole me, asking me to treat him to a meal, claiming he was collecting on a favor.

I was fully prepared to spend all the money I’d earned from my part-time jobs to treat him. He looked so expensive that I couldn’t imagine him sitting in a greasy, dirty little shop; the sense of contradiction would have been jarring.

However, after weaving through a few paths, he led the way into the school cafeteria for a late-night snack.

He ate very little. After a few bites, he set down his chopsticks and explained that he had a bad stomach and couldn’t eat much.

At first, I thought he was just saying that to make me feel better. It wasn’t until we were together that I realized he had ruined his own stomach through neglect.

When we were together, I learned all sorts of ways to make congee just to look after his condition. Every time his stomach issues flared up, I would stay by his side day and night, terrified that he might break.

Back then, he would lean back in bed, his face pale as he pinched my cheek with a smile on his lips.

“Look at how nervous you are. Anyone would think I had terminal cancer.”

Furious, I slapped his hand away and headed downstairs with the bowl without looking back.

Zhou Huaian owned several companies. During the startup phase, he was like most entrepreneurs, working himself to the bone at the cost of his health.

For a time, I believed he was just someone who had started with a bit of seed money from his family and made it on his own. I used to secretly take pride in the thought that as long as I worked hard enough, the gap between us wouldn’t be that wide.