Because I broke off the engagement, it caused a huge stir. My father was embarrassed and told me never to come home. Friends kept asking what happened—after all, Zhou Junhaohad always been the perfect boyfriend, and we were the model couple. How could we suddenly break up with no warning?
I ignored them all. Zhou Junhaostill came by, but after I told him to cut off contact, he’d just leave things at my door and sit on the stairs in silence before leaving. The things he left would end up in the trash the next day.
One day, I watched him leave from my balcony. He was no longer the confident young man I remembered—he looked older, defeated.
I took the grad school entrance exam and got ready to move to City B. The day before I left, I visited the cemetery. There was a bouquet of daisies on Miaomiao’s grave. I sat beside them, soaking in the sun. The cemetery was quiet, surrounded by green trees and a clear sky. My heart felt empty, but peaceful.
“Grandpa, Grandma, Mom, Miaomiao, I’m going to City B. I probably won’t be back much. Rest in peace—I’ll take care of myself and won’t do anything foolish again.” I wiped my tears. “I won’t go back to Dad’s house. I won’t contact Zhou Junhaoanymore. Maybe he really did love me once, but… hating someone is exhausting. I don’t want revenge. He was good to me, and he hurt me. Let’s just call it even.”
“Miaomiao with your great-grandparents and grandma with you, don’t be afraid. Mommy’s going to start a new life.”
I sat with them for a long time. The sunset was golden and bright. In the fading light, Zhou Junhaowalked up the steps, holding a bunch of daisies, which he placed on Miaomiao’s grave.
What’s the point of visiting after we’re gone, when he never cherished us while we were alive? No—in my past life, maybe even if
Miaomiao and I died, he wouldn’t have shed a single tear.
The thought made me angry again. Why did I ever love him? Why did he promise me forever, only to hurt me so deeply?
“You never once held Miaomiao in your dream. When she was sick, you visited just once. Now you do all this to ease your guilt?” I sneered. “You don’t have to. Back then, you didn’t even know what guilt was. You probably just felt relieved that we weren’t a burden anymore.”
He looked pale, in pain. But no matter how much he hurt, it could never compare to what I went through. I got up to leave, but he grabbed my hand, his voice hoarse: “Yaoyao, I’m sorry, really sorry…”
I shook him off, but he hugged me tightly. “Yaoyao, give me another chance. I’ll be a good husband. I’ll take care of you and our child. Please, I know I was wrong. When I heard about you in my dream—when I heard you jumped—I begged God for another chance. I’d treasure you this time. Please, just one more chance. I’ll be a good husband, a good father…”
Seeing me unmoved, he knelt in front of me, head pressed to my stomach. “I can’t live without you. I don’t know how to go on without you—what’s the point of anything without you? Didn’t we promise to have a home, no betrayal, no fights, just warmth and love? I’ll give you everything you missed. Please, just one more chance…”
The day after he proposed, he brought me to the cemetery, swearing before my mother and grandparents that he’d give me a real family. He said the best life was us leaving for work together, kissing goodbye, whoever got home first would make dinner. Even if we fought, we’d still sleep in each other’s arms. Every year, we’d make a family album, saving every precious memory—our “bank of love.” Even if we were angry, we’d forgive each other when we saw those memories. On weekends, we’d grocery shop hand-in-hand, cook, go to the movies, walk the dog in the park.
But promises are made to be broken.
“Even if you died, I still wouldn’t give you another chance! Whatever kindness you showed me, you’ve already taken it all back, with interest. Just don’t bother me again.”
Walking out of the cemetery, I glanced back. He stood there like a statue, hollow-eyed. Maybe that was how I spent all those nights waiting for him in my past life.
Later, in that cold hospital, in those ghostly night wards, with his calls going unanswered, my soul shattered, silently.
Returning to school, everything felt like a distant dream. I quickly adapted to my new life: classes, the library, reading, watching variety shows, binging dramas. I canceled my old phone number and bank cards, as if I’d never existed in those memories, as if those people had never been in my life.
Now, everything was new: new people, new things, a new life, and a new me. I had all the time in the world to read and study. Literature became my sanctuary; no matter how reality battered me, its mountains and rivers always brought me peace.
That New Year, it snowed in City B. I wandered the campus, marveling at the silence and the white world. It was a peace I’d never known.
Growing up, I always felt like an outsider in my father’s home—my stepmother’s cold smiles, my father and brother’s closeness, and me, a puppet. After marrying Rong Jiayan, New Year meant visiting his parents, endless socializing, and exhausting obligations. When things soured, even pretending to be close in front of others became unbearable.
Looking back, no matter how hard I tried, those who didn’t like me never would, and those who did… were all gone.
I went to a campus restaurant, ordered fried rice and some lamb skewers to take back to my dorm. On the way, I ran into an old professor. She was in her sixties, still teaching after retirement. Seeing I hadn’t gone home for the holiday, she warmly invited me over. I couldn’t refuse.
Her home was filled with books and calligraphy. Her husband, Professor Bai, was happily cooking in the kitchen. Three place settings were on the table. I helped with the fruit, and they didn’t stand on ceremony. The professor asked about my reading; her husband joined in, and they discussed a book with such depth that I felt humbled.
I said, “Professor, I want to get my PhD someday and become a university teacher.” She smiled, “Of course you can. You have a gift , but you have to be able to handle loneliness.”
If I could, I’d become a hermit in the mountains. What’s loneliness to me?
After starting grad school, I finally found what I was meant to do—something just for me, not for anyone else. After a while, the professor called her younger son, asking when he’d be home. She explained, “My younger son is on his way.”
She had two sons, one abroad, one in China. We watched TV while waiting. When the door opened, I was stunned. Her son was strikingly handsome, with a scholarly air. But—he was Miaomiao’s doctor, Bai Zhou.
Seeing him, my eyes filled with tears. He’d witnessed that painful time. Just seeing him brought it all back. I rushed to the bathroom, fighting back sobs, but I couldn’t stop crying. When I finally composed myself, my eyes were red.
Back at the table, they acted as if nothing had happened, chatting warmly. Their family dinner was cozy, even video-calling their son overseas. I barely spoke, hiding my face behind my bowl as tears fell.
Chapter 03
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