The night garden held its breath.
Leaves rustled softly against the lantern light, but between the two of them, silence pressed heavier than stone.
Qing Yun had just said it—I am tired.
And for the first time in Gu Ze Yan's life, he didn't know what to do with his hands, his voice, his love.
He sat beside her, body taut, afraid to even breathe too loudly. He wanted to scoop her into his arms, but one look at her face—so calm, so unbearably calm—stopped him. She looked like porcelain, too fragile to touch, too fragile to move. If he held her, would she shatter?
Her eyes, dark as deep water, lifted and found his.
"Gu Ze Yan," she said, steady, polite, her voice weaving through the night like silk. "I know what you will say. You will tell me you love me. That you'll always be by my side. That you'll give me everything. But all of that—"
She paused, lips curving faintly, bitterly.
"—all of that is for Sunny. And Sunny is gone."
---
The words sliced him open.
He lurched forward, desperate. "No—"
But she raised a hand, elegant, quiet, silencing him.
"I am not her," she continued. "I never want to be her again."
Ze Yan's throat burned. He wanted to deny it, to argue until the stars themselves went dim. But then she leaned closer. Slowly. Deliberately.
Her voice dropped, almost a whisper. "Do you know, Gu Ze Yan? Sunny was calculated."
Her fingertips, cool and slender, brushed his cheek. His skin burned where she touched, but his chest ached even more at her words.
"When she smiled at you…" Her lips curved faintly, cruel in their gentleness. "…when she touched you…" Her fingers traced down, brushing his jawline. "…when she brushed your hair…" She lifted her other hand, threading once through the strands at his temple, tender, practiced, devastating.
"All of it was deliberate," she whispered. "Planned. A tactic. To make you fall deeper."
And then—just as suddenly—she pulled away. The warmth vanished, leaving cold air between them. Her hands folded neatly back into her lap, her posture once again poised and distant.
Her tone, when she spoke again, was almost merciful. "So save yourself, Gu Ze Yan. Sunny is not worth it. She was fake. And Lin Qing Yun… is too tired to try anymore."
---
"No." His voice was hoarse, shaking. He leaned forward, unable to stop himself. "You don't have to do anything. If you're tired, then let me—let me love for the both of us. I can carry it. I can—"
She smiled. Not bright. Not Sunny. Just a faint curve of lips, almost pitying.
"A relationship cannot survive on one side alone," she said softly. "You'll drown, Gu Ze Yan. One day, you'll be lost, not knowing what else to do. And then it will consume you."
Her fingers moved again, not to touch in affection but to flatten the crease that had formed between his brows. The gesture was intimate, yet distant—like a mother soothing a child, like a friend easing worry. Not like a lover.
"Don't be obsessed," she whispered. "Obsession gives you anxiety. It will drive you mad. One day, it will kill you."
His breath caught, ragged. Every word felt like being stabbed, yet she delivered them with the calmness of pouring tea.
---
"I don't want everything," Qing Yun said after a long silence. Her gaze shifted toward the lantern light, softening but never breaking. "I just don't want to smile when I don't want to. I don't want to be friendly when I don't feel like it. I don't want to perform anymore."
Her voice lowered, fragile but firm.
"I just want to lie down. To keep Lin Qing Yun alive. Because if I keep pretending, she'll vanish completely."
Her hands curled in her lap, so tightly her knuckles paled.
"Your love… your care… it isn't something I can return. I have nothing left to give. Can't you see?" Her eyes flicked to his, shimmering but dry. "Your love was never for me. It was for someone else. For Sunny. And she is gone."
---
The world tilted. His ears rang.
No. No. This wasn't true.
He surged forward, clutching her hands, ignoring how stiffly they rested in his grasp. "I don't care!" he burst out, voice rough with desperation. "I don't care if you smile or not, if you shine or not. I don't need Sunny—I need you. Lin Qing Yun, Sunny, tired, broken, selfish—I don't care. I'll take all of you. Don't tell me my love was misplaced, don't tell me I was blind. I know what I felt. I know who you are."
His grip trembled, his forehead nearly pressing to hers. "And I can't—" His voice cracked. "I can't let you go."
But she looked at him, calm, serene, her eyes like still water unmoved by storm.
"Let me go, Gu Ze Yan," she said quietly. "Don't waste your time chasing something that doesn't exist."
She stood.
---
Panic exploded in his chest. His arms shot out, wrapping around her waist from behind, holding her tightly. He buried his face against her shoulder, trembling.
"No!" His voice broke into rawness. "I can't—don't leave me. Please, Qing Yun. I'll change, I'll do anything—just don't…" His words dissolved into a half-sob. He tilted her face, desperate, and pressed his lips to hers.
For a moment, the kiss was everything—desperate, pleading, full of every unsaid word, every night of longing, every dream of forever.
But when his eyes opened, hers were still. Lifeless. Not resisting, not returning. Just… still.
He pulled back slowly, breath shaking, his hands slipping from her shoulders.
Her gaze met his, calm, exhausted.
"I wish you find the love you deserve, Gu Ze Yan," she whispered. "A love that will love you back."
And with that, she stepped away.
---
He stood frozen, tears streaking his face, watching her back as she walked away. Step by step, elegant, unhurried, until the night swallowed her figure.
His knees weakened. He stumbled to the bench, collapsing onto it, his breath ragged. The world blurred around him. His hands trembled as if reaching for something already gone.
---
Meanwhile, Qing Yun returned to the hotel.
Xu Wei Ran was waiting, seated on the sofa, posture tense, eyes sharp with worry. When he saw her, his chest eased slightly—but one look at her face, pale and scratched, told him everything.
He rose, closing the distance in three strides, pulling her into his arms. She didn't resist.
"Qing Yun…" His voice was low, pained. He stroked her hair gently, letting her bury her face against his chest. His shirt dampened where her breath hitched, though no tears fell.
"Lean on me," he whispered, fingers combing through her hair. "You don't have to carry it tonight."
She stayed still, silent. Only the faint tremor of her shoulders betrayed her.
Wei Ran tightened his embrace, closing his eyes. He had heard it all. The curses of her mother, the farewell to Gu Ze Yan. Tonight she had endured more than anyone should.
So he said nothing more. He simply held her.
And for the first time in years, Lin Qing Yun allowed herself to sink into silence, into stillness, into the fragile comfort of someone else's chest.