Chapter 1 The Beginning
Zhang Cong was reluctant, but under Shen Yue's strong insistence, he had no choice but to let her down.
He brought Shen Yue to the coffee shop and found a corner to sit down. After ordering a dessert and milk tea, Zhang Cong went to buy medicine.
Within ten minutes, Zhang Cong returned with a plastic bag.
The coffee shop was heated and very warm.
He reached out and lifted Shen Yue's pants, folding them up to her knees.
A large area of snow-white, tender skin was bruised, looking somewhat frightening.
The man’s brows furrowed, and his lips subconsciously tightened, but his hands were exceptionally gentle.
Yet, it still hurt. Shen Yue suppressed her sobs and did not cry out.
After the medicine was applied, Shen Yue’s eyelids were red.
The light was warm yellow, and Shen Yue could see Jiang Han’s chiseled facial features.
He used his thumb to wipe away the tears from the corners of her eyes, his movements as delicate as handling fragile treasures.
The dessert was mousse cake, very sweet. Eating too much would make it feel cloying.
Shen Yue’s eyelashes drooped. The sweet cream spread in her mouth. As she ate, tears suddenly fell. Her long, curled eyelashes held the tears like tiny pearls.
They were crystal clear and translucent.
She seemed unaware that she was crying, still quietly eating the mousse cake, her snow-white cheeks puffed out.
The cake was very sweet.
This was the first time she had ever eaten cake.
She didn't even know when her birthday was.
Zhang Cong's gentleness reminded her of someone else.
He would also say.
"Does it hurt a lot?"
—
Shen Yue finished the cake. Her face was pale, her back thin, and her face was covered in tears.
Soft tissues wiped away the tears. Zhang Cong's fingers flinched slightly from the heat of the tears as he suddenly asked an unexpected question.
"Did something happen?"
His eyes clearly reflected the woman's appearance, his gaze focused and burning.
Shen Yue lowered her eyes, her thick lashes casting shadows beneath them. The corners of her eyes were a vibrant red, and her thin eyelids were slightly swollen.
Her voice was soft: "It's nothing."
Zhang Cong leaned closer. The pressure as he approached was overwhelming.
He didn't retreat but moved closer, his tone certain.
"I know something must have happened. Shen Yue, you don't look well. If there's anything you want to talk about, you can tell me. I can help you. Don't keep everything bottled up."
Shen Yue's heart clenched.
At that moment, the unspoken grievances and sadness surged forth. Her nose tingled, and the tears that had stopped began to flow again.
She pinched her palm, her face very pale. Her lashes were long and curled, and her voice trembled slightly: "...Brother, I, I..."
Her voice was hoarse, mixed with rapid gasps and sobs, sounding tearful.
A sharp thorn seemed to pierce Zhang Cong’s heart, causing a slight ache.
His voice softened further: "Tell me, Brother is listening."
The woman gasped, tears streaming down her face. She choked back sobs, making it difficult to breathe, unable to utter a single word.
Zhang Cong’s heart pounded violently. He quickly held her cold hand and gently coaxed her, "If you don't want to say it, then don't. We won't talk about it anymore, okay? We won't talk about it."
Shen Yue truly couldn't speak. She didn't know how to start because she was afraid. She was afraid Zhang Cong would also think she was being overly sentimental.
Logically speaking, Qi Rui had already forgotten her, yet she was still clinging to the Qi family, watching Qi Rui intimately with another woman. Even though she tried her best to suppress her feelings, she still revealed a bit.
Wasn't this also interfering in someone else's relationship?
What was the difference between this and being a mistress?
After all, Qi Rui already had a girlfriend.
If she were more sensible, she should have quietly left, not embarrassed herself here.
If Zhang Cong knew, he would surely find her disgusting too.
She would leave, but she always felt that Qi Rui still had affection for her, even if it was just a little, it was enough. She didn't ask for much.
Don't let her... be a joke.
The two of them were sitting in a corner of the coffee shop.
Zhang Cong stood up and went to the woman's side. She was crying so sadly. He pursed his lips, his eyes deep, as if about to tear apart the calm night sky. For a long time, he remained silent.
He stood there like a statue.
After a while, he reached out, and Shen Yue fell into a broad, warm embrace.
The honest and naive man was not very good at comforting people. Beneath his calm exterior lay a sense of helplessness. He awkwardly raised his hand and patted the woman's thin back rhythmically.
His movements were light, yet still a bit clumsy.
Shen Yue seemed somewhat delirious from crying. Her delicate white fingers clutched the front of the man's clothes helplessly, emitting soft whimpers.
People who catch a cold always seem particularly fragile.
Shen Yue didn't usually cry, but the man's embrace was too warm.
"Brother..." she said, wronged, like a child who had been bullied outside.
The man held her, his chest broad, able to envelop her securely. His heart pounded rapidly and erratically.
"Don't cry, don't cry..."
"I'm here, I've always been here..."
Shen Yue cried for a long time.
It was already dark. In winter, the days are always short.
There weren't many people in the coffee shop, and this small corner was empty.
When she had cried enough, Shen Yue's reason returned. Embarrassed, her ear tips flushing, she tried to pull away from the man's embrace.
Zhang Cong felt the woman trying to leave, and his hands around her waist instinctively tightened slightly. However, after a few seconds, he consciously loosened his grip and then slowly let go.
Shen Yue's skin was too delicate, and after crying so much, her eyelids were swollen. She looked very pitiful.
Seeing a small patch on the man's collar that was wet with her tears, she felt even more ashamed. She lowered her head, her snow-white face looking soft.
"Brother, I'm sorry."
She always liked to say sorry.
Zhang Cong's gaze lingered on the woman's red ear tips for a few seconds. It was indescribable. His palms were sweating.
His Adam's apple bobbed, and he unconsciously smiled, "It's okay, you're such a crybaby."
Shen Yue froze for a moment.
The warm light spilled onto his eyes, as soft as a gentle breeze.
She averted her gaze, and her lips curved upwards.
Zhang Cong offered to drive her home, but Shen Yue refused, as the distance was not far.
However, Zhang Cong insisted on taking her home. Shen Yue had no choice but to agree.
He didn't drive. Snow was still falling. They shared an umbrella, their shoulders touching. Shen Yue occasionally looked up and saw that half of the man's shoulder was exposed, with a thin layer of snow accumulated on it.
She moved the umbrella slightly: "Brother, don't just think about me."
Zhang Cong was still smiling, with a hint of foolishness: "It's okay, I don't feel the cold at all. My hands are still warm."