Sweetie, don't look at him, kiss me.

Lin Qingmian spoke, her voice soft, yet carrying a weight that silenced the air in the corridor.

Ji Xingye's gaze suddenly locked onto her, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

Lin Qingmian took a deep breath, raised her eyes and met his gaze directly: "Ji Xingye, the person I'm marrying is him."

"Ji Linzhou is my husband. We got our marriage certificate a year ago."

The corridor was so quiet that you could hear the phone ringing in the nurses' station in the distance.

Ji Xingye stood rooted to the spot, as if frozen in place. His face gradually paled, the color rapidly fading from his lips to his ears, until only a ghastly white remained.

"you……"

His voice was terribly hoarse, as if he had sand stuck in his throat: "What did you say?"

"I said, my husband is Ji Linzhou." Lin Qingmian's voice was so calm that even she was a little surprised. "We got married a year ago."

"So Ji Xingye, stop bothering me."

"I'm already your aunt."

The last sentence was like the final straw that broke the camel's back.

Ji Xingye's body swayed slightly. He subconsciously reached out and grabbed the wall of the corridor, his knuckles turning bluish-white from the force.

He stared at her, then at the silent man beside her, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two for a long time before finally settling on Ji Linzhou's face.

"Uncle," his voice was hoarse, as if it were being forced out of his chest, "do you know who she is to me?"

Ji Linzhou met his gaze, his voice calm yet carrying an unwavering firmness: "She is your ex-girlfriend."

"But now she's my wife."

A simple sentence, yet it was like a knife, precisely piercing Ji Xingye's heart.

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he couldn't utter a single word.

He looked at Lin Qingmian, at her standing next to Ji Linzhou, the two of them so close that her shoulder was almost touching his arm.

She kept her head down, holding the coffee cup in her hand. The steam obscured her features, making it impossible for him to see her expression.

But he could sense it.

When she stood next to Ji Linzhou, she felt relaxed and at ease, like a bird that had finally found its nest.

When she was with him, she was always on edge—worried about his emotions, worried about what his family thought of her, and worried about whether she was doing enough.

She had never shown such a relaxed demeanor around him before.

This realization felt like Ji Xingye's heart was being crushed, causing him to feel dizzy and his vision to blur in waves.

"……good."

He remained silent for a very long time, so long that the light at the end of the corridor dimmed, before finally squeezing out that single word.

"very good."

He turned around, no longer looking at the two of them, and walked towards the elevator.

His figure was slightly unsteady, but his back was ramrod straight.

Lin Qingmian watched the direction he left in, her fingers slightly clenching the paper cup of her coffee, but she didn't call out to him.

Ji Linzhou stood beside her and glanced down at her.

Her complexion was not good, her lips were slightly pale, and her hand holding the coffee cup was trembling slightly.

"Regret it?" he asked in a low voice.

Lin Qingmian shook her head.

"I don't regret it," she said. "I just feel... some things are finally over."

Twenty years have finally come to an end at this moment.

She looked up at Ji Linzhou, forced a smile, and said, "Let's go home."

Ji Linzhou looked at the somewhat forced smile on her face and didn't say anything more.

He reached out and took the coffee cup from her hand, then naturally moved it to her left, cupping her left hand in his palm.

His palms were warm and dry, enveloping her slightly cool fingers like a wall she could lean on.

Lin Qingmian was stunned for a moment, then looked down at their clasped hands.

"Your hands are so cold." Ji Linzhou's voice was soft, with an unintentional gentleness. "I'll make you some ginger tea when we get back."

Lin Qingmian stared at their clasped hands for a long time, but finally did not pull away.

She let him lead her out of the hospital corridor, into the elevator, through the lobby, and into the parking lot.

As she sat in the passenger seat, she leaned back, watched the hospital buildings recede into the distance outside the window, and let out a long sigh.

It was as if all the weight accumulated over the past twenty years was exhaled with that breath.

As the car drove out of the parking lot, she turned her head and looked at the man in the driver's seat.

His profile was outlined in a golden glow by the streetlights, his jawline sharp and smooth, his eyes intently fixed on the road ahead.

"Ji Linzhou," she said softly.

"Um?"

"Thank you."

Ji Linzhou's fingers, gripping the steering wheel, paused slightly.

He turned to look at her; she was leaning back in her seat, looking at him with a soft and honest light in her eyes that he had never seen before.

He didn't say anything, but simply reached out and gently ruffled the top of her hair.

The car was moving slowly, and the heater inside was blowing gently.

Lin Qingmian closed her eyes, a slight smile playing on her lips, and finally drifted off to sleep.

That evening, in the study of the Ji family's old mansion, Ji Xingye sat alone by the window, holding an opened bottle of baijiu in his hand, his gaze fixed on the night outside the window, lost in thought.

His phone vibrated several times, all messages from Lin Qingqing. He didn't read them, but simply flipped the phone over and placed it face down on the table.

He tilted his head back and took a swig of wine. The spicy liquid burned his way down his throat to his stomach, but it couldn't burn away the cold ashes in his heart.

He recalled the first time he held Lin Qingmian's hand when he was nineteen.

Her palms were sweaty, her face was as red as a ripe tomato, and she lowered her head, not daring to look at him. Her voice was so soft it was like a mosquito's hum: "Ji Xingye, you have to be good to me from now on."

He smiled broadly and gripped her hand tightly: "I promise."

The cold moonlight streamed in through the window, spreading a silvery sheen across the floor.

Ji Xingye closed his eyes and took another swig of wine.

He still lost her in the end.

When Lin Qingmian woke up the next day, sunlight was already streaming through the gaps in the curtains and filling the bed.

She turned over and found that there was no space beside her, and the sheets were already cold. She reached out and touched the empty space, feeling a slightly cool touch on her fingertips, but she felt inexplicably at ease.

As usual, warm water and ointment were placed on the bedside table, with a note next to them: "Something came up at the company. Breakfast is in the pot. I'll be back at noon."

She picked up the note, read it twice, then folded it and put it under her pillow.

This is the third one.

She thought for a moment, then pulled out the first two slips of paper from under her pillow and laid them side by side on the bed, looking at them for a while—the handwriting on each slip was sharp and fluent, but the content carried a kind of quiet tenderness.

She carefully folded the three slips of paper and put them in the bedside table drawer.

After washing up, she found a warm breakfast in the steamer on the stove: millet and pumpkin porridge, two crab roe buns, and a small dish of pickles. She sat at the table and ate slowly, the warm sunlight streaming in and making the whole apartment bright and cheerful.

The phone beeped; it was a message from Fang Shiyang: "Baby! Did the CEO talk to you about the contract? When will our project officially start?"