Halfway through the gala, Z·Meaning's ready-to-wear exhibition area drew a steady stream of investors and media attention.
Xu Zhiyi handled the crowd with ease, poised and composed as she conversed with confidence.
She seemed like a completely different person now.
Gone was the woman who once stood quietly behind Lu Yancheng, obedient like a shadow.
Now, she was light.
And light—was the most blinding, and the furthest out of reach.
—
As the gala wrapped up, Xu Zhiyi exited quietly through the back door, planning to return to her car.
Just as she turned a corner in the hallway, a shadow loomed suddenly in front of her.
She instinctively stopped and looked up—
It was Lu Yancheng.
He stood under the corridor light, eyes dark and conflicted. His voice was low and hoarse:
"You and him... you're not a good match."
She blinked, then gave a small, cool smile—one that never reached her eyes:
"Since when does President Lu care about someone else's private life?"
His brow furrowed, voice rising slightly:
"You don't know him. He's not like me. He—"
"Exactly." She suddenly cut in, her tone featherlight."He's not like you."
"He respects me."
"He wasn't out dining with another woman while I was bleeding out in the hospital. And he didn't treat my leaving as some kind of relief."
Her words were calm—dead calm—but each one sliced deep like a knife.
Lu Yancheng's fingers trembled, but he stubbornly pushed on:
"He's not genuine. He invested in you because he wants a return."
She met his eyes, her voice light as the wind—yet cold as frost:
"Even if that's true, it still feels more like love than anything I ever got from you."
In that moment, it felt like Lu Yancheng's throat was being crushed. He couldn't speak.
He had once believed her gentleness and devotion were natural.
He thought her waiting at home every night was her duty.
He thought—she'd never leave.
But she had left.
Not just physically—but completely transformed into someone else.
Someone who no longer loved him.
Someone who no longer cared if he was hurt, guilty, or jealous.
For the first time, he felt helpless. And angry. With her—and with himself.
—
"Xu Zhiyi—" he called her name under his breath, his eyes bloodshot.
But she didn't look back.
"If you're just doing all this to make a point, I can—"
"Lu Yancheng." She cut him off, her voice suddenly crisp and sharp."You really think this is just me making a point?"
She stepped closer. Her eyes were blades.
"Those five years—my dignity, my tears, my child—none of it matters to you? Just one word, 'petty', and you think that erases everything?"
His face went pale.
"Don't come looking for me again." Her tone was calm—too calm."I'm doing well now. I don't need you to tell me who I 'fit with.'"
She turned and walked away, her steps firm, unwavering.
Leaving Lu Yancheng standing alone at the end of the silent corridor—
Like the entire world had left him behind.