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

Overwhelmed by extreme regret and intense longing for his daughter, Shen Qinghan completely lost his mind.

a few days later.

After making inquiries from various sources, she finally learned the address of the international kindergarten that Shen Xinyu was currently attending.

For several days in a row, Shen Qinghan, like a madwoman, waited at the kindergarten gate. She dared not approach and could only watch from afar.

That afternoon, kindergarten let out.

A black Rolls-Royce Phantom slowly came to a stop in front of the kindergarten.

The car door opened, and two burly bodyguards in black, wearing sunglasses, stepped out and stood respectfully on either side of the door.

Soon, Shen Xinyu, carrying her small schoolbag, walked out of the school gate under the guidance of her teacher.

The moment Shen Qinghan saw her daughter, she could no longer control her emotions.

She rushed out from the corner without hesitation, lunging at Shen Xinyu like a madwoman, crying out in anguish:

"Heartfelt words! Heartfelt words! It's Mommy! Let Mommy hug you!"

Shen Qinghan's disheveled hair and filthy appearance terrified Shen Xinyu.

The little girl burst into tears, desperately trying to hide behind the bodyguard, her little hands gripping his clothes tightly, her eyes filled with fear.

"Get out of here!"

The two bodyguards reacted quickly, stepping forward like a wall to block Shen Qinghan's path and shoving her to the ground.

Jiang Ye, sitting in the back seat of the Rolls-Royce, saw this scene and his eyes instantly turned extremely cold, as if they could freeze into ice shards.

He pushed open the car door, and with his long, slender legs, walked step by step to Shen Qinghan.

Shen Qinghan was pushed to the ground, her palm scraped. She looked up at Jiang Ye, who was standing tall in front of her.

She thought that Jiang Ye would soften and remember their past relationship if he saw her in such a miserable state.

Shen Qinghan was about to kneel down and beg Jiang Ye to give her a chance to get back together, even if it was just to stay by his side as a nanny.

but.

Jiang Ye's gaze towards her held no warmth, no pity, no anger, only a deep disgust and indifference.

It's like looking at a pile of unrecyclable trash.

Jiang Ye coldly uttered a few words, his voice not loud, but carrying a chilling murderous aura:

"Throw this crazy woman away."

"If she dares to come within fifty meters of my daughter again, I'll break her legs."

Upon hearing Jiang Ye's heartless words, Shen Qinghan was struck dumb, collapsing to the ground, her face ashen.

Upon receiving orders, the two bodyguards immediately stepped forward, ready to drag Shen Qinghan away like a dead dog without any mercy.

Just then.

The other door of the Rolls-Royce opened.

Han Qingru, dressed in an elegant trench coat, slowly walked down the street.

She frowned slightly as she looked at Shen Qinghan, who was lying on the ground in a disheveled state.

"Wait a moment."

Han Qingru spoke up to stop the bodyguard's actions.

She walked to Jiang Ye's side, gently tugged at his sleeve, her voice soft yet carrying an undeniable strength:

"Ono, let's just forget about it."

"No matter what she did in the past, she is, after all, Xinyu's biological mother. Blood is thicker than water, and no one can replace that."

"You let someone drag her biological mother away like a dog in front of the child. How much trauma will that leave on Xinyu's heart?"

Jiang Ye turned his head and looked into Han Qingru's clear eyes, and the coldness around him gradually dissipated.

He remained silent for a moment, then finally waved his hand, signaling the bodyguards to leave.

Han Qingru walked up to Shen Qinghan, not disgusted by her dirt, but took out a pack of tissues from her bag and handed it to her.

"Wash your face."

Han Qingru's voice was calm, without sarcasm or sympathy, only the politeness one would show to a stranger.

"The way you are now will only scare Xinyu. If you really love her, you should first clean yourself up and stand up like a human being."

Han Qingru turned to the bodyguard beside her and gave the order:

"Take her to the nearby shopping mall, buy her some clean clothes, then take her to take a bath and tidy her up. All expenses will be paid from my account."

After saying that, Han Qingru didn't look at Shen Qinghan again. She turned around, took the hand of Shen Xinyu who was still sobbing, and gently coaxed her into the car.

Jiang Ye gave Shen Qinghan a cold glance before getting into the car as well.

The Rolls-Royce slowly started and disappeared at the end of the street.

Shen Qinghan sat blankly on the ground, clutching the pack of tissues Han Qingru had handed her tightly in her hand.

She stared in the direction the Rolls-Royce had gone, Han Qingru's words echoing in her mind.

"Stand up like a human being..."

Shen Qinghan's tears welled up again.

But this time, it wasn't tears of regret and despair.

Standing before this woman she once looked down upon and envied the most, Shen Qinghan felt an unprecedented shock.

Han Qingru's magnanimity, composure, and genuine kindness were like a heavy hammer, shattering the last trace of pride and stubbornness in Shen Qinghan's heart.

She finally realized just how utterly she had lost.

She lost not only Jiang Ye, but also her principles and bottom line as a person.

Shen Qinghan gripped the tissue tightly and slowly stood up from the ground.

At this moment, her long-numbed and twisted heart seemed to show some signs of being moved, and even a trace of true awakening.

. . . . .

Half a month has passed.

The "Cloud Wilderness: Echoes of the Soul" Faceless Arts Festival has finally officially opened amidst much anticipation.

On this day, Genting Town was completely transformed into a secluded, dreamlike utopia.

At the entrance to the town, there are more than a dozen strict security checkpoints. Every visitor who enters must hand over their mobile phone, tablet, and any electronic device with communication capabilities in a specially made sealed bag for safekeeping.

Freed from the constraints of mobile phones and the suffocating notification sounds of social media, tens of thousands of tourists seemed to instantly sever their connection with the noisy real world.

Next, everyone picked out a mask from the mask wall at the entrance.

There were ornate Venetian feather masks, steampunk masks with a mechanical feel, and cartoon masks of various birds and beasts. The moment they put on the masks, everyone shed their pretenses from the real world.

Here, no one cares whether you're a lowly office worker burning the midnight oil or a multi-millionaire executive; no one cares about your status or position, and certainly no one cares about your bank account balance.

They all share one common name—"The Faceless Ones".

The entire Genting Town was decorated like a dream. Retro lanterns emitting a soft glow hung on both sides of the street, and artificial cold smoke flowed slowly on the bluestone pavement, making people feel as if they were in a fairyland.

A long queue formed in front of the "Emotion Pawnshop" on the south side of the town.

The pawnshop owner is a bartender wearing a bird-beak mask. Tourists sit at the bar, pick up cards and quill pens on the table, and write down their deepest, most hidden pains, their most unspeakable secrets, or their regrets that they can never tell anyone.

After writing the message, hand the card to the shopkeeper to exchange it for a special "Forget-Me-Not Wine" in various colors.

Some wrote about the pain of being betrayed by their lover of seven years, tilted their heads back and drank the spicy liquor in one gulp, then burst into tears at the bar; others wrote about the despair of failed business ventures and being heavily in debt, holding the ice-blue liquor, silently walking to a corner, letting their tears soak their masks.