"Chi Yu, are you unable to sleep?"
He doesn’t speak, lowering his head to kiss her.
Gu Yuan offered her lips, kissing him deeply.
After twisting and turning, entangled for a long ti, when Gu Yuan was almost out of breath, she pressed against his chest: "You wanted so many tis last night, I’m only managing to go out today by sheer willpower. Can you hold , please? I want to sleep peacefully, and we can return to the country when I wake up." Her voice grew smaller and more subtle, her breathing becoming much shallower.
Chi Yu slowly turned on his side, holding Gu Yuan in his embrace.
Chi Yu slept unusually soundly this ti.
In the dream, there was emptiness, yet a giant net ensnared him. He struggled to wake up, yet couldn’t. At the corner of his lips, he mumbled a na repeatedly —
"Gu Yuan;"
"Gu Yuan;"
"Yuanyuan..."
He opened his weary eyes to see Gu Yuan standing beside him, surrounded by white, with a shadowless lamp overhead casting incandescent light on him, leaving only despair.
His entire body was immobilized, unable to move, as an arc-shaped device dropped down from above, slowly confining his head.
He strained to reach out, wanting to hold the hand of the woman standing beside him, his throat forcing out a sound, calling her na: "Yuanyuan..."
She extended her hand to grasp his, then lowered her head to let his hand touch her cheek: "I’m here, Chi Yu, I’ll always be by your side, I will never leave you."
He tried hard to grasp her hand, humbly pleading: "Yuanyuan, don’t send away, don’t, really don’t..."
"I finally got to your side with great difficulty, don’t send away, please, Yuanyuan..."
"I’m begging you..."
Tears rolled from the corner of his eyes, dripping onto Gu Yuan’s hand, yet burning her heart, her breath pained as if spasming.
He held on tightly, Gu Yuan’s hand turned blue and white, clearly hurting intensely, yet she acted as if she felt nothing, staring blankly at his tears.
There was nothing she could do.
Even comfort was futile.
"Don’t send away."
"Yuanyuan, don’t, don’t send away, don’t..."
"I beg you, I beg you Yuanyuan, I’m really begging you, don’t send away."
"I love you, even if you don’t love , it’s okay, I want nothing. Let stay, please, I’m begging you, begging you..."
His humble, pleading voice echoed repeatedly in her mind.
Gu Yuan’s heart ached so much she could barely breathe.
Separated by a wall, outside the glass door.
Wen Fei stood quietly, watching inside, where that man repeatedly begged Gu Yuan not to send him away. Watching this scene, even Wen Fei’s cold heart couldn’t remain unmoved.
Through this person, she saw the shadow of soone else.
—Gu Yuesheng.
The mories of those years lingered before her eyes, and Gu Yuesheng also used to beg her not to leave, appearing pitifully humble and timid at the ti. But in reality?
He was despicable and shaless.
...
A luxurious yacht sailed on Jackson Sea Port.
At twilight, the sky went completely dark, the decorated lights on the harbor bridge shone brilliantly, while the distant harbor bridge and opera house mirrored the changing hues.
...
Four months later.
The recent news in Yanjing about that Crown Prince wasn’t quiet —
"Have you heard? That Crown Prince, who returned less than six months ago, kept a low profile for half a year and then made a high-profile entry into the entertainnt industry."
"I’ve heard that, and I also heard the original story, that the Crown Prince chased after his ’white moonlight’ into the entertainnt industry, spoiling her beyond asure."
"For Young Master Quan to call the shots in the entertainnt industry is just a matter of words, shows how much Young Master Quan cares about that girl."
"Caring is just transient, n are all fickle. I’ve heard that Young Master Quan a few years back got a woman pregnant, and that woman had a child for him. I’ve heard that woman has been pestering Young Master Quan, but Young Master Quan doesn’t acknowledge it at all."
"A man who doesn’t even acknowledge his own child is exceptionally fickle."
"What a joke, that’s the renowned Quan Family of Yanjing, not just anyone can get in."
This man, discussed as fickle, was currently enjoying himself in a top-tier upscale club.
In front of the pool table.
The man’s skin was pale, yet dressed in all black, his neatly managed dark hair adding to his exquisite features, as if God’s favorite, doted on to excess.
The beloved are always fickle, and just by looking at his face, you could tell he was fickle.
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