Shen Chi Yan's words fell like a hammer in the silent room. Standing before the old lady, he declared without hesitation that Lin Qiu Tong was the one he loved—not Song Qi Nian.
The statement crushed every ounce of Song Qi Nian's dignity. Each word felt like a deliberate step grinding her pride into dust.
The old lady's hand shot up, ready to strike Shen Chi Yan. Before she could, Song Qi Nian caught her wrist. [Grandma,] she forced a smile, [the food's getting cold. Shouldn't we eat?]
The old lady's eyes softened as she looked at Song Qi Nian. Her heart constricted at the sight of this girl still protecting the very man who'd just humiliated her. With a final piercing glare at Shen Chi Yan, she took Song Qi Nian's hand. "You're right, dear. You must be hungry."
Just like that, Shen Chi Yan became an outsider in his own family home, watching as his grandmother treated Song Qi Nian with the warmth once reserved for him.
After dinner, the old lady summoned Shen Chi Yan to her study. Song Qi Nian sat outside, anxiety gnawing at her stomach as she waited.
Ten minutes later, Shen Chi Yan emerged. The darkness in his expression made Song Qi Nian rise instinctively from the sofa. Their eyes met—his blazing with cold fury—and her heart stumbled. What could have transpired in that room to kindle such rage?
When Shen Chi Yan left, the old lady invited Song Qi Nian to spend the night. She declined politely, citing work the next day and the convenience of staying at Xiangshan Yue Villa, closer to Dingsheng Group's headquarters.
Later, as Song Qi Nian guided her electric scooter home, she spotted Shen Chi Yan's car at the entrance. He stood there, cigarette between his fingers, face carved from stone. Behind him, Gao Kunlun shifted nervously, gripping a massive sledgehammer.
Gao Kunlun glanced at Shen Chi Yan, waiting for a signal. When none came, he stepped toward Song Qi Nian, his voice heavy with regret. "Young Madam, I'm so sorry."
At first, the sledgehammer's purpose eluded her. But as Gao Kunlun raised it toward her cherished scooter, understanding struck. Her pupils contracted, and she launched herself forward.
[No!]
She lunged forward, desperate to protect her scooter, but Shen Chi Yan's grip locked around her arm.
She turned to him, hands moving in frantic gestures. [Please, I'm begging you…]
He pulled her against him, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. "I've been wondering why you were so set on that electric scooter. Now I understand—this was your plan from the start."
What? She struggled to make sense of his words.
"You got yourself hurt on purpose to win Grandma's sympathy, to make her think I was neglecting you for Qiu Tong. Now that Grandma despises Qiu Tong, you must be quite satisfied."
Song Qi Nian shook her head violently. She'd never planned anything like that. The accident had been just that—an accident.
But Shen Chi Yan wouldn't listen. "Smash it," he commanded, and Gao Kunlun brought the sledgehammer down hard.
[No!]
Tears spilled down her cheeks as she fought against Shen Chi Yan's iron grip, forced to watch as each blow transformed her scooter into twisted metal.
Eventually, her struggles ceased. She stood motionless, staring at the wreckage while tears tracked silently down her face.
Shen Chi Yan released her. Something in her blank expression made him frown, a strange discomfort tightening his chest.
He pushed the feeling aside. She was manipulating him again, playing the victim. He wouldn't fall for it.
"Remember this the next time you try to manipulate someone."
Without another look, he strode into the villa.
Gao Kunlun stood there, shame weighing heavy in his gut. The Young Madam had given him a car ornament once, and this was how he repaid her kindness. He felt like the worst kind of person.
Gao Kunlun shifted uncomfortably. "Young Madam... Fifth Master was worried about you having another accident on the scooter, that's why he ordered me to—" He stopped short when he saw her tear-filled eyes. The words died in his throat.
The damage was done. What else could he say?
That night, Shen Chi Yan's recurring dream changed. The girl was still painting, but now silent tears fell onto the baby's breath blooms she created. The delicate flowers seemed to wilt under her sorrow, scattering across the canvas.
Pain shot through his chest. He clutched at his heart and tried to reach her, wanting to hold her, comfort her. But as always, she remained just out of reach, never turning to face him.
Later, when he visited Lin Qiu Tong, he found her posing with pink roses for photographs. The flowers were perfect, their fragrance filling the room. After her recovery, Lin Qiu Tong seemed to glow with renewed vitality.
Her face lit up when she saw him. "Ah Yan, look! Aren't these pink roses stunning?"
As he looked at them, an image flashed in his mind—the soft pink baby's breath from the painting in his dreams.
"Qiu Tong..."
"Yes?"
"Are pink roses your favorite flower?"
Lin Qiu Tong's hands stilled on the roses. True, she loved pink roses, but this sudden question...
Could he be remembering?
Her heart raced as she considered her next move. She'd investigated Song Qi Nian thoroughly after learning of Shen Chi Yan's feelings for her. She knew baby's breath was Song Qi Nian's favorite.
"No," she said carefully. "I like pink roses, but baby's breath has always been my favorite."
Shen Chi Yan's face remained unreadable. Lin Qiu Tong pressed on, "Baby's breath represents purity, serenity, and romance. I want my life to be like that—always romantic."
She set down the roses and wrapped her arm through his. "Why do you ask, Ah Yan?"
"Just curious."
Lin Qiu Tong knew better. Shen Chi Yan never asked questions without reason. But she let it drop, afraid of saying too much.
Watching her bright, carefree manner, Shen Chi Yan felt frustration rise within him. Damn it—if Qiu Tong was the girl from his dreams, why did he still have doubts?
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