You’re here.

Suddenly, Mu Qingxi heard the door open and looked toward the entrance. Her mother had just left—who could be coming now?

Seeing the visitor unsettled her. He had a fair face, chestnut hair, and wore a white casual suit, exuding arrogance and wildness. Yet the weariness in his eyes washed away all traces of pride.

The visitor was Feng Han.

“You’re here,” she said quietly.

“You’re awake,” Feng Han replied, standing where he was, looking at Mu Qingxi.

She didn’t look at him, only gazed at the chair by her bed and spoke: “It’s been two years. Are you afraid I’ll bite you? Come and sit.”

Feng Han came over and sat down lightly, his chin covered in stubble, radiating an unspeakable exhaustion and world-weariness. Though his eyes sparkled as he looked at her, his fatigue could not be ignored.

She remarked lightly, “You haven’t shaved in days—it’s messy.”

Feng Han chuckled softly, “Five days, I suppose.”

Neither of them spoke further, simply basked in the silence. Mu Qingxi looked out the window, Feng Han watched her. After a long while, he finally spoke, “Mu Mu, I miss you. Truly.”

“Mu Mu, I’m sorry.”

“Mu Mu, I came back this year, with Zuo Kun. I saw you that time at the bar… You and Zuo Kun seemed so happy together.”

“Mu Mu, I can’t explain what happened between me and Wang Feiyan anymore. I know you already know. In the past, I could have explained it clearly, told you there was nothing between us, but now I can’t make it clear.”

“Mu Mu, please don’t hurt yourself anymore. Take care and recover well.”

Mu Qingxi’s eyes grew moist, blurred with tears. She didn’t know what to say. Cousin, was it wrong to hide the truth like this? If nothing had been concealed, Sister Ah Dai wouldn’t have misunderstood, nor would Feng Han. Was it right or wrong to do what you did?

Suppressing the turmoil within, she said, “Feng Han, I never expected you to come see me, but now I don’t blame you anymore. Can we…”

“Mu Mu, there’s no possibility for us. Don’t say it. Zuo Kun told me everything—it’s my fault. I’m sorry. I made you become like this. You should be well, so those who care about you won’t worry anymore.” Feng Han stood up and spoke coldly.

She listened to his words and smiled, raising her head to ask, “Are you among those who care?”

“Rest well. I’ll go now.” Feng Han left as if fleeing.

In the quiet hospital room, Mu Qingxi could hear only her own breathing. Tears flowed silently.

Why do tears exist?

To hold on to what she wished to keep? She couldn’t.

To move those she wished to move? She couldn’t.

He came, he left, all within moments, not even giving her the patience to finish what she wanted to say. If he didn’t want to hear her speak, why did he appear before her? Couldn’t he let her hold on to a shred of hope?

Mu Qingxi rose and stood, holding the bag of pomegranates, muttering, “Pomegranate, pomegranate, pomegranate, pomegranate…” With every word, she threw one, until the floor was littered with the “corpses” of pomegranates.

She collapsed onto the ground, motionless.

Why! Why! Feng Han, two years—two years! Did he know what she had endured?

Qin Yu entered, saw her on the floor, and rushed over. “Mu Mu, Auntie said you’d woken up so I hurried over. Mu Mu, what’s wrong? Why are you sitting on the floor?” Qin Yu quickly tried to lift Mu Qingxi by her arm, but Mu Qingxi’s gaze was vacant and unresponsive.

Qin Yu grew anxious and began to cry, “Mu Mu, don’t scare me, please. Get up, Mu Mu.”

“What’s happened?” Xi Haifei appeared.

“Xi Haifei, help me get Mu Mu up, please. She’s just sitting there, not moving,” Qin Yu sobbed.

As Xi Haifei was about to touch Mu Qingxi, she stared at him coldly and said, “Don’t touch me.”

Ignoring her protest, Xi Haifei reached out to pull her up, but she struggled fiercely, pushing him away, refusing to rise.