After the divorce, he went on a motorcycle trip, and his ex-wife and daughter were filled with regre

Jiang Ye opened the message list.

In my last post on WeChat Moments, that familiar blue rose avatar reappeared at the top of the likes list!

Xia Yu gave it another thumbs up!

Looking at the small like icon, Jiang Ye, sitting on the swaying wooden boat, suddenly felt that this kind of interaction was really interesting.

He could imagine that Xia Yu, hundreds of kilometers away in Hanzhou, was probably sitting in a conference room listening to the executives' reports, but secretly scrolling through her phone under the table. When she saw his photo, she didn't hesitate to tap the heart.

However, as Jiang Ye laughed, he felt that this interaction seemed a bit outrageous.

He stroked his chin, inwardly complaining.

Previously at the Donghu Apartment, the two of them were clearly having a deep, intimate conversation.

On the large sofa, in front of the full-length mirror in the bathroom, on the soft, large bed.

Six times a night, they made love passionately, their sweat mingling, wishing they could meld each other into their very bones.

The physical revelry and entanglement were so intense and direct.

But now?

He ran to the wilderness hundreds of kilometers away, while she stayed in the city of steel and concrete.

The two did not exchange any words, nor any phone calls or WeChat messages.

Is this the simplest and most restrained way of "liking" a way to conduct a subtle spiritual exchange in WeChat Moments?

The contrast is just too great!

Jiang Ye looked at his phone screen, shook his head helplessly, but a faint smile still lingered on his lips.

but……

In this noisy and restless world, in this life where everyone is busy and trying to escape.

This tacit understanding, which requires no words yet allows one to keep track of the other's every move, seems to be a unique kind of romance, doesn't it?

. . . .

The next day.

Sunlight streamed through the panoramic floor-to-ceiling windows, bathing the king-size bed in the top-floor suite of the Blue Amber Inn.

Jiang Ye turned over and opened his eyes contentedly in the warmth.

Without the urging of an alarm clock or endless chores, he slept soundly until the sun was high in the sky.

Stretching out a big yawn, listening to the satisfying cracking of his bones, Jiang Ye habitually reached for his phone on the bedside table.

Unlock the screen and open WeChat.

His finger almost instinctively tapped directly into the list of messages on his WeChat Moments.

However, the screen was completely empty.

There was no familiar red number notification, nor the cold, elegant blue rose avatar.

Jiang Ye was stunned for a moment.

Unconvinced, he pulled down the refresh button again.

Still not.

In that instant, Jiang Ye felt a sudden, inexplicable emptiness welling up inside him.

It was like punching cotton, or expecting a timely spring rain but only getting a dry gust of wind instead.

"He's probably busy. After all, he's the president of Blue Ocean Group. He doesn't have that much time to scroll through his WeChat Moments every day."

Jiang Ye comforted himself in this way.

He tossed his phone aside, got up to wash, went downstairs to the inn's restaurant, and ate a bowl of hot rice noodles.

However, throughout the morning, whether he was admiring the view on the terrace or drinking tea in his room, his eyes kept glancing at his phone screen, intentionally or unintentionally.

I waited until after 2 p.m.

Jiang Ye picked up his phone again and opened his WeChat Moments.

I still haven't seen the like I was hoping for.

"Snapped!"

Jiang Ye slammed his phone face down on the coffee table in frustration, and couldn't help but curse himself inwardly.

"Jiang Ye, Jiang Ye, what's wrong with you?!"

"You ran hundreds of kilometers in search of freedom, to escape that suffocating city! How come you're acting like a lovesick brat, always thinking about a woman's likes?!"

"You must be crazy!"

He rubbed his cheeks vigorously, forcing himself to drive Xia Yu's image out of his mind.

To distract himself, Jiang Ye decided to find something to do.

There weren't any specific plans for the whole day.

In the afternoon, he changed into a loose set of casual clothes and strolled to the courtyard on the first floor of the inn to sunbathe.

There was a large wicker chair in the yard, and next to it lay a fat orange cat owned by the landlady.

Jiang Ye lay on the wicker chair, casually plucked a foxtail grass from the flower bed, and idly teased the fat orange cat.

The sun was warm, and the breeze was gentle.

The orange cat was amused by the foxtail grass and rolled around on the ground, purring contentedly.

Jiang Ye looked at the carefree cat, and the restlessness in his heart gradually subsided.

As evening fell, the setting sun painted the lake surface with a vibrant orange-red hue.

Jiang Ye strolled out of the inn and followed the dirt road to Old Yu's small courtyard covered with vines.

That evening, the two of them ate a plate of peanuts and a plate of stir-fried snails, and drank half a jin of Lao Yu's homemade pure grain liquor.

They chatted about everything under the sun, from literary classics to local customs and traditions.

It wasn't until the night was deep that Jiang Ye, slightly tipsy, returned to the Blue Amber Inn under the moonlight.

Push open the door to the penthouse suite.

The room was pitch black and so quiet that only his own breathing could be heard.

Jiang Ye didn't turn on the lights. Instead, he walked to the French windows by the moonlight outside and looked at the dark lake and the rolling mountains.

As the effects of the alcohol took hold, he stood alone in the spacious and luxurious room, suddenly feeling an indescribable emptiness and loneliness.

Humans are such contradictory creatures.

We yearn for tranquility amidst the hustle and bustle, yet we inevitably feel lonely even in peace.

"However, these things are inevitable, aren't they?"

Jiang Ye muttered to himself, a bittersweet smile of relief creeping onto his lips.

The price of freedom is loneliness. Since you've chosen this path, you must learn to enjoy this solitude.

He took off his clothes, went into the bathroom, and let the warm water wash over his body, flushing all his messy thoughts down the drain.

……

at the same time.

Hundreds of kilometers away in Hanzhou City, Shen Qinghan's villa presented a completely different scene of chaos and turmoil.

"Waaah—Mommy! I feel awful! My head hurts so much!"

In the children's room on the second floor, Shen Xinyu lay on the princess bed, crying her heart out.

The little girl's cheeks were burning red, her forehead was covered in fine beads of sweat, and her little hands were flailing wildly in the air in pain.

Shen Qinghan was wearing a disheveled silk nightgown, her hair was messy, and she was holding an electronic thermometer in her hand. Looking at the "39.5℃" displayed on it, she was as anxious as an ant on a hot pan.

"Xinyu, don't cry, don't cry, Mommy will give you fever-reducing medicine..."

Shen Qinghan hurriedly picked up the ibuprofen suspension from the table, poured it into a measuring cup, and wanted to feed it to her daughter.

However, Shen Xinyu was suffering from a high fever and was not cooperating at all, shaking her head frantically.

"I don't want to eat! It's too bitter! I want my dad! I want my dad to feed me!"

"Clatter!"

With a flick of her wrist, Shen Xinyu knocked over the measuring cup in Shen Qinghan's hand.

The pink medicine spilled all over Shen Qinghan and also stained the expensive silk sheets.

"Shen Xinyu!"

Shen Qinghan was already overwhelmed with work, and the early pregnancy symptoms had left her exhausted. Seeing her daughter so disobedient, the last thread of her resolve snapped.

She completely lost her patience, raised her hand, and slapped Shen Xinyu's hand hard with a "smack".

"Cry, cry, cry! All you do is cry! Your father doesn't want you anymore! Drink your medicine!" Shen Qinghan roared hysterically.

After the slap landed, Shen Xinyu froze for a second before bursting into an even more heart-wrenching cry.

"Waaah—Mommy hit me! Mommy is a bad person! I want Daddy! Daddy never hits me..."

Seeing her daughter crying uncontrollably, and seeing the red mark on the back of her hand.

Shen Qinghan's hand froze in mid-air, as if struck by lightning.

She regretted it.

A wave of intense guilt overwhelmed her instantly.