"Ugh, you're so annoying. Stay away from me."
"Meimei, don't be mad. I was wrong…"
The voices nearby pulled Lin Wan out of her trance. She realized she'd been standing there for a long time—long enough to lose herself in memories, long enough to feel as if she had slipped through a tunnel of time.
Her gaze lingered on the young couple walking past in matching outfits, playfully bickering. They were so young, so alive, so unrestrained—and most of all, they were both still alive.
The girl shook off the boy's hand; he chased after her and grabbed it again. She shook it off once more. He caught it again…
Tears surged in Lin Wan's eyes, blurring her vision. She could barely make out the two figures as they gradually blended into one and disappeared into the distance. She looked down at her own empty right hand—the one that used to be held by his—and found nothing there. Her breath tightened, and a sharp pain ripped through her chest for the last time.
Wang Xiao… She whispered his name softly, again and again—the name she once thought she could call for a lifetime.
She had forced herself not to think about him for days, but that didn't mean she didn't miss him. In truth, she missed him so much it was killing her. Now, all that suppressed grief and longing came rushing back, crashing over her like a rising tide, drowning her in seconds.
Her defenses were shattered. Lin Wan broke down completely, collapsing on the street and sobbing uncontrollably. Her crying sounded raw and hoarse—her throat hadn't fully healed yet, so every sob broke midway into a rasp. Her face was a mess, thickly painted makeup smudged by tears, mascara and blush melting together into a dark, red-black mask—like a failed opera face.
Night markets were never short of people. A young woman weeping openly on the street drew countless stares. But Lin Wan was too lost in her pain to notice. The curious whispers, the sympathetic sighs—none of them reached her. She only knew how to cry, and kept crying.
Eventually, the crowd lost interest. Everyone had their own stories to chase; no one lingered long over a stranger's tragedy.
Lin Wan didn't know how long she had cried. It didn't matter—no amount of tears would ever be enough. If she could, she would stay like this forever, weeping in the place they had walked hand in hand countless times—where she picked out keychains for him, and he fed her grilled lamb skewers; where they laughed, argued, and promised forever; where he had slipped a ring onto her finger and said he would walk beside her for the rest of his life…
When her tears finally ran dry, a soft rustle came from above. Someone was holding out a tissue. Lin Wan looked up, her tear-streaked face a blur of color, and saw a short-haired girl in a high school uniform.
"Sis," the girl asked hesitantly, "did you just get dumped too?"
Lin Wan froze, then exhaled a trembling sigh. "Do you know what hurts more than a breakup?" she asked in a hoarse whisper.
The girl shook her head, wide-eyed and pure, the kind of innocence only youth could hold. She's so lucky, Lin Wan thought.
She took the tissue, wiped her face, and gave a sincere "thank you" before turning to leave.
"What is it?" the girl pressed stubbornly.
Lin Wan turned back and gave a bitter smile. "It's losing someone."
The girl blinked, puzzled. "Isn't that the same thing?"
Lin Wan paused for a second, then murmured in a daze, "When you break up, you can still see him—you still know how he's doing. But when you lose him… you'll never see him again."
The girl seemed half-understanding, but didn't ask further. Lin Wan had already walked away.
She placed her right hand over her chest—it hurt so much. Without realizing it, she had spoken the cruelest truth of all, the one she had tried so hard to avoid: she had lost Wang Xiao. She would never see him again. They were separated by life and death—and that, she thought, was the most brutal, helpless thing in the world.
By the time Lin Wan got home, her almond eyes were swollen into two pink peaches. Before she could even wash her face, her phone buzzed violently. It was Wang Xiao's mother.
Her heart skipped a beat. Could something have happened to his father again?
She picked up quickly. "Wanwan, where are you?" came the anxious voice on the other end.
"I'm at home. How's Uncle Wang—?"
"Where did you just go?"
"Um… Auntie, I—"
"Wanwan, please," Wang's mother interrupted, her voice trembling. "Promise me you'll stop digging into this."
"Auntie, please don't worry. This is my decision. You don't have to get involved. I can't just stand by and let them twist the truth and let the killer walk free…" Her voice broke. "I just can't."
There was a long sigh on the other end. "Even if you find evidence, it won't be accepted in court."
"I know. That's why I'm not using legal means anymore. I have a recording. I can upload it online. Once it goes public, the media pressure will force someone to take action. They can't silence the whole world."
The panic in Wang's mother's voice sharpened instantly. "No—you can't do that!"
Lin Wan froze. Why not? She had sensed something strange in them for days, but hadn't dared to ask. The Wang couple's passivity, their almost fearful silence—it wasn't how grieving parents should act. It was… wrong.
Half an hour later, Lin Wan took a taxi to the Military General Hospital, where Wang's father was being treated. She spotted Wang's mother pacing anxiously near the entrance of the inpatient wing.
When their eyes met, the older woman let out a weary sigh, then finally spoke the truth.
Years ago, Wang's father worked in the municipal construction department. Eight years back, he'd been caught in a major engineering scandal. Though he was only a small cog trapped between higher-ups, every document bore his signature. When the blame came down, it landed squarely on him.
In the end, someone powerful had buried the case. He escaped prison, received only a demotion, and was transferred quietly back to Dragon City.
But a few days ago, Chen Jin's secretary had appeared at the hospital with a copy of a witness statement from that very case. Though years had passed, it was a damning piece of evidence. When Wang's father saw it, he froze like he'd been struck by lightning.
Now the cruel reality was this: if they fought for their son's justice, the father would have to take the fall for his past. The case would expose not only him, but a chain of powerful figures behind it. He was old—prison would destroy him. And even then, there was no guarantee they could restore the truth.
They had lost their chance. The enemy was too strong. Even if they were willing to die for it, the net would never break.
Wang's mother finished her story in tears. Lin Wan felt crushed, as if a giant stone were pressing on her chest. She could barely breathe.
Chen Jin's last words echoed in her mind—I'll be waiting.
Of course. Only someone holding all the cards could say that.
All her struggles now seemed pathetic. The memory card she had guarded so carefully was worthless. The strength drained from her body; her limbs turned cold despite the summer heat.
Her Wang Xiao would never rest in peace. She could only watch—just as she had watched him vanish into the flames that day, until all that remained was ash.
It wasn't a disappointment she felt anymore. It was despair.