Lin Che froze.
The silk dress slipped slightly from her grasp as she turned sharply toward the road, where faint engine sounds were already fading in the distance.
Nan Lu's laughter died instantly.
"What do you mean he is gone?"
If said wrongly, his words could be interpreted in a very bad way.
The man sighed, "The Gong Family are already taking him away!"
Hearing that, Lin Che bolted!
The sound of her own heartbeat thundered in her ears as Lin Che ran.
Her slippers slapped against the dirt road, the cool wind slicing across her face, but she didn't stop. Her lungs burned, her chest heaved — yet she kept going, faster, faster, until she reached the Zhang family's gate.
And there, she stopped.
All that was left was dust.
A thin veil of golden-brown dust swirling lazily in the air — the only trace of the cars that had already vanished from sight. The long convoy of black vehicles was nothing more than a distant shadow now, fading into the curve of the road that led out of the village.
Just like that… Zhang Rui was gone.
The realization hit her harder than she expected.
Gone.
No goodbye. No glance back. No words.
Only the trail of dust, and a silence so heavy it pressed against her chest until she could barely breathe.
At the gate, Old Master Zhang stood like a statue — his weathered hand gripping the edge of the wooden post. His shoulders sagged beneath the weight of twenty-two years that had just been ripped away from him.
He didn't speak. He didn't cry. He just stared at the empty road where his son had disappeared, his face tired and hollow, as if a lifetime of love had been taken from him in a single moment.
Behind Lin Che, footsteps skidded to a stop. Nan Lu's voice burst out, sharp with disbelief.
"What—he left? He left?! Without saying goodbye?!"
Her voice was half outrage, half heartbreak — the kind only a true friend could feel on someone else's behalf.
"How could he, Lin Che? How could he just go like that?! After everything?" she continued, stomping her foot as if it could summon the cars back. "You two grew up together! You were engaged! He couldn't even come say goodbye? What kind of man does that?!"
Lin Che stood still, her eyes fixed on the fading line of the road.
Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.
Her chest ached — not in the way tears could ease, but in the way something inside cracked quietly, and you could only stand there pretending you didn't hear it.
Nan Lu kept talking, muttering angrily under her breath, her arms folded tightly. "You see? That's what happens when people get rich overnight. Suddenly, the ones who stood beside them all this time don't matter anymore! Ugh! He should've—he should've said something!"
Lin Che finally turned, her voice soft. "He's really gone?"
Old Master Zhang looked at her. His eyes were red, but his expression was calm — the kind of calm that came only after you had no tears left to shed.
"They've gone," he said quietly. His voice was thick, but steady. "The Gong family left just a moment ago."
He reached into the front pocket of his coat and pulled out an envelope — thick, gleaming faintly gold in the sunlight.
"They left this behind."
Lin Che blinked at the glimmering seal pressed into the wax. The Gong Family Crest.
"What is it?" she asked softly.
"A letter of invitation," he replied. "A week from now, they'll be holding a grand celebration in the capital — to commemorate the return of their long-lost son."
He gave a small, hollow chuckle. "Their long-lost son, huh."
His voice trembled slightly on the last word, but he didn't let it show for long.
"They invited us," he added after a moment. "You and I."
Lin Che reached out, hesitating a moment before taking the invitation. The gold foil shimmered faintly in her hand, bright and cold all at once.
Her reflection flickered across the polished surface — small, uncertain, distant.
Her fingers tightened.
Gone.
He was really gone.
The man she had spent her childhood with. The one who used to walk her home from school, who used to promise her the world when they were sitting by the riverbank talking about the future.
He hadn't even said goodbye.
Had it all meant so little?
Nan Lu was still fuming beside her, muttering curses under her breath. "If he really loved you, Che Che, even if he had to leave, he would've come see you! Just one word, one look, anything! Men—ugh, men are all the same! They get one whiff of money and they forget the people who stood by them when they had nothing!"
Lin Che let out a small laugh — brittle, humorless. "Nan Lu…"
"I'm serious!" Nan Lu said, stamping her foot again. "You've always been too nice! If it were me, I'd march right up to that capital and throw the invitation back at them—"
Her words faltered when she saw Lin Che's expression.
It wasn't anger on her face. Not sadness either.
It was something quieter, heavier — a strange mixture of disbelief and longing, like someone watching a familiar world crumble without knowing how to stop it.
Lin Che lowered her gaze to the golden invitation again.
"Even if he was busy…" she whispered, half to herself, half to the wind. "He should've thought of me. Even for a moment."
The words barely carried past her lips, but both Nan Lu and Old Master Zhang heard them.
Old Master Zhang sighed deeply. The sound came from somewhere far older than his years.
He reached out and placed a trembling hand on Lin Che's shoulder, patting her gently.
"Will you go, child?" he asked quietly.
"Yes," she said softly. "I'll go."
There was no hesitation in her tone.
She had to.
Not just for closure. Not just for her own heart.
But because Old Master Zhang couldn't possibly travel to the capital alone — and because, deep inside her, something still refused to accept that everything could end this way.
Maybe — just maybe — if she went, she could understand what had really changed.
And if everything was truly over… she needed to see it for herself.
Nan Lu sighed heavily, folding her arms, muttering again, "Then I'm going with you too. Someone needs to keep an eye on you when you meet that fancy new mother of his!"