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

Ji Linzhou did not answer her.

He turned his head and glanced in the direction of the door.

Lin Qingmian stood still, her fingers tightening slightly as she gripped her phone.

She could feel those gazes pressing down on her, like a sticky layer enveloping her, making it hard for her to move.

But she also knew that she couldn't turn around and walk away at a time like this.

She glanced at Ji Linzhou; his face remained expressionless, but his gaze softened slightly when it fell on her.

She took a deep breath, stepped out from beside the greenery, walked past the rows of floral decorations, and headed towards him.

The crowd automatically made way for her.

Some people turned to the side, some took a half step back, and some couldn't help but glance at her as she passed by.

Among those gazes were surprise, curiosity, scrutiny, and the excitement of watching a spectacle, as well as a few cold stares.

Lin Qingmian ignored those gazes and simply walked towards Ji Linzhou.

When she walked up to him, he reached out and naturally took her hand, which was hanging by her side.

His palms were dry and warm, his knuckles slightly curled up, enveloping her icy fingers in his palms.

This gesture carries more weight than any words.

Su Tingwan looked at the clasped hands, and the last trace of color drained from her face.

Her eyelashes trembled a few times, as if she wanted to say something, or as if something was blocking her throat.

How could you—

Her voice finally escaped her throat, with a broken, hoarse, and almost incoherent ending.

"You proposed to me. You said it—"

"Yes."

Ji Linzhou interrupted her, his voice remaining steady.

"That was a year ago. You refused."

"I refused because—"

Su Tingwan's tears rolled down her cheeks again. She wiped them away twice before continuing her sentence.

"I refused because I wanted a formal ceremony! I wanted you to propose to me seriously, not just make a phone call and say we should get a marriage certificate—"

"So you went abroad."

Ji Linzhou's voice was indifferent.

"You let me go after you."

He paused for a moment.

"I didn't chase after them."

Su Tingwan was stunned, tears welling up in her eyes, threatening to fall.

"I waited a week."

She finally spoke, her voice sounding as if it had been pulled up from a very deep place.

"I spent a week in Paris, a week in Rome, a week in Prague... Every day I thought, you might come today."

"You're so capable, finding me will be easy for you."

"I walked very slowly, and I went to places you had mentioned wanting to go before."

"I've been waiting for you."

Her voice began to tremble as she spoke, as if something she had suppressed for over a year had finally found a crack and was gushing out.

"But you didn't come. You didn't send me a single message."

Ji Linzhou looked at her and remained silent for a few seconds.

"Because I don't plan to pursue you."

He paused for a moment.

"I had already made up my mind when you rejected me; our relationship was over."

"I gave you the right to choose, and you chose no."

"I don't like waiting in the same place for too long, nor do I like repeatedly confirming an answer that has already rejected me."

Su Tingwan's lips trembled violently, as if she wanted to refute or question.

But those words swirled in her throat, and in the end, she could only squeeze out, "Then why didn't you tell me sooner? Why did you play along with those charades?"

"Because I thought you would understand."

Ji Linzhou's voice finally carried a hint of other emotions, very faint, as if his patience was being worn down little by little.

"After you returned to China, you said you needed public opinion to help you stabilize your resources. I said I could help you attend a few public events so that outsiders would think we were still interacting normally."

"You promised to gradually fade away once the resources stabilized."

"But you keep escalating the situation. You take me out to eat, post on social media, bring reporters to follow me, and force me to make public statements."

He looked at her with a calm gaze, as if he were looking at an expired contract.

"I thought you were just unwilling to accept it. I thought you would stop once you saw that I was really married."

"But you didn't."

Standing under the light, Su Tingwan finally couldn't hold back her tears and they streamed down her face.

She had creased the hem of her champagne-colored dress by gripping it, but she seemed completely oblivious, staring intently at the two people in front of her.

"Then why didn't you say so sooner!"

Her voice suddenly rose: "Why didn't you tell me sooner that your wife was her—if you had told me earlier, how could I have—"

"What would you do?"

Ji Linzhou's voice remained neither loud nor soft.

Will you let go?

Su Tingwan did not answer.

Her mouth was agape, as if those words had blocked all her escape routes.

Those bloodshot eyes were fixed on Lin Qingmian, as if searching for some flaw, some loophole, any evidence that could make her believe that none of this was true.

Ke Linqingmian stood there, her expression calm.

She simply held Ji Linzhou's hand and stood quietly beside him.

The banquet hall was quiet; no one spoke.

Even at the main table, Madam Ji's face was ashen, her knuckles white as she gripped the microphone, yet she didn't utter a single word.

Su Tingwan finally shifted her gaze away from Lin Qingmian's face.

She looked back at Ji Linzhou and laughed, a dry and hoarse laugh, like the sound of something broken and blown by the wind.

"Good. That's great."

She took a step back, then another, her high heels clicking crisply on the floor.

"Ji Linzhou, you really are—"

She bit her lip, not finishing the last half of her sentence, then turned around, lifted her skirt, and walked quickly toward the door.

The sound of high heels faded into the distance, eventually being shut out by the heavy glass doors of the banquet hall.

Some people in the crowd gasped quietly, some raised their glasses and pretended to take a sip to hide their expressions, some quietly put away their phones, and some finally let out the breath they had been holding.

Ji Linzhou still held Lin Qingmian's hand and did not let go.

Lin Qingmian could feel that her fingertips were still cold, that the gazes of the people around her were still on her, and that the temperature and weight in those gazes were all different.

But his hand was holding hers, his palm dry and warm, steadily enveloping her cold, slightly trembling hand in his palm.

She looked up at him.

The man kept his eyes fixed ahead, the lines of his profile appearing exceptionally clear under the light.

He didn't look at her, but the fingers holding her hand tightened slightly, as if silently giving her a signal.

Lin Qingmian lowered her eyes and did not pull away.

The atmosphere in the banquet hall remained tense until someone finally moved, and the glasses and plates made a soft clattering sound.

The sound was like a secret signal, prying open a crack in the frozen air.

The guests began to move around again; some turned to get drinks, while others whispered to the people next to them.

At the head table, Madam Ji finally put down the microphone.

She sat back down in her chair, picked up the teacup in front of her, her fingers still trembling slightly.

But she didn't look in Lin Qingmian's direction again, as if as long as she didn't look, the scene just now had never happened.

Ji Xingye sat in the corner of the main table, holding a glass of wine in his hand, neither drinking nor putting it down.

He looked in that direction, at Lin Qingmian standing next to Ji Linzhou, at her posture as he held her hand without pulling away.

His face was calm, but the knuckles of his fingers holding the wine glass had turned white.