Volume One, Chapter 16: Come Out, I'm at Your Door

At night, Wen Li lay in bed, tossing and turning, unable to sleep. Zhou Huaijing’s words lingered persistently in her ears, refusing to fade away.

Whenever she closed her eyes, her mind was flooded with images of Jiang Chen, flashing repeatedly.

Completely wide awake, Wen Li picked up her phone and opened her social media app, her fingers hovering over the chat window with Jiang Chen.

Out of boredom, she scrolled through their past messages, listening to their voice recordings as a sort of lullaby.

Jiang Chen had sent her many messages intermittently. Though she never responded, she could never bring herself to block or delete him.

Not because of anything else, but because she couldn’t bear to let go.

So he quietly remained on her friends list, motionless, occasionally tugging at her heartstrings.

“Wen Li, where have you gone?”

“Wen Li, I was wrong. Please don’t be mad at me, okay?”

“Wen Li, I beg you, don’t ignore me.”

“Wen Li, I will never forgive you.”

“Wen Li, you’d better not come back.”

At first, Jiang Chen thought she was playing a prank, deliberately sulking with him. Gradually, he began to reproach her on moral grounds. Later, these messages turned into annual mass-sent holiday greetings.

“Happy Dragon Boat Festival.”

“Happy Mid-Autumn Festival.”

“Happy National Day.”

“Happy New Year.”

Perfunctory, yet unceasing.

Wen Li continued scrolling through their past sweet conversations. Jiang Chen’s face kept appearing in her mind, along with the memories associated with him, cascading like a film projection.

The final scene froze on the eve of their absurd engagement banquet five years ago.

The southern city in June was rainy and gloomy.

That night, the rain poured especially heavily.

Wen Li remembered they were chatting sporadically, discussing whether it would rain the next day.

She worried about the gown air-shipped to her — what if it got soaked and ruined her look?

Jiang Chen teased her for being delicate, always fixated on superficial things.

“Isn’t it all for you to see me in it?”

“In the end, I’m the one who has to take it off.”

The gown was designed by Jiang Chen after several drafts. He finally settled on a design and commissioned a world-renowned designer to make it months in advance.

Including the engagement ring and the venue decorations.

Wen Li liked everything very much.

Their voice call lasted a long time, until Wen Li’s voice grew weaker and weaker. She nearly fell asleep beside the phone, yet couldn’t bring herself to hang up.

Jiang Chen said, “This rain is almost as bad as the flood that submerged the Leifeng Pagoda in the Legend of the White Snake. It definitely won’t stop.”

He urged her to sleep early and not overthink things.

“As long as you can come.”

Jiang Chen even said, “I really hate this. Maybe we should just cancel the engagement tomorrow.”

His words were always so ironically prophetic—he was a jinx, never learning, always running his mouth.

In the end, Wen Li never wore the gown he designed, never attended the meticulously arranged engagement banquet, and never got to recite the carefully prepared lines.

People said that the arrogant heir of the Jiang family sat despondently at the engagement banquet for a long time, so long that after the guests left and the staff cleared the decorations, he still refused to leave.

Most people in the southern city were Buddhists, and traditional values ran deep.

Though Wen Li was not deeply devout, she thought that if reincarnation and karma really existed, then her only punishment so far was Jiang Chen.

She never felt a moment without deep guilt toward him.

After the memories surged and settled, Wen Li’s pillow was dampened.

At the same time, Jiang Chen parked his Pagani near the Wen family’s old residence, a slender cigarette held between his fingers.

The ground beside the car was littered with discarded cigarette butts.

“Come out, I’m at your doorstep.”

Wen Li came out at one in the morning.

She saw no sign of Jiang Chen or any other car at the old Wen family residence.

Thinking he had left, she turned to go back, when a shadow hidden near a statue suddenly grabbed her arm from behind, pulling her into an embrace.

The wind from the mountain was fierce and biting cold.

Jiang Chen held her tightly, his whole body radiating a bone-chilling chill, seemingly frozen for a very long time.

She recalled how on the day of the engagement banquet, when Wen Li didn’t show, he had waited similarly until the venue closed, and staff reluctantly came to persuade him to leave.

“Wen Li won’t come.”

“Miss Wen has always been temperamental and unlikeable. Running away from marriage is hardly surprising.”

“Who would have thought the heir of the Jiang family was so sentimental, playing out a modern-day Romeo and Juliet.”

“Both families are well-matched, childhood sweethearts. To me, it looks like just a childish tantrum.”

He had driven to the old Wen residence, perhaps seeking an explanation, or to find Wen Li, but never even saw her.

That day the rain was torrential. The usually accessible gate of the Wen family’s old residence was tightly shut, ironically adorned with a red lantern bearing the double happiness symbol.

Jiang Chen stood in the courtyard all night.

Until he collapsed from exhaustion and burned with fever for two days. When he awoke, the engagement was called off, and Wen Li was gone.

If Wen Li hadn’t come out tonight, he would probably have stood there all night again.

“Are you crazy? Drinking and driving? Don’t you want to live?”

Wen Li smelled the strong stench of alcohol mixed with smoke on him, pushed him away, her eyes filled with genuine worry.

She feared he’d catch a cold or worse; he had just recovered from a car accident, now drinking and wandering out at night.

“So you do have a mouth. You’re not so tongue-tied in front of me. Why didn’t you explain when others misunderstood you and smeared your name?”

Probably because he felt invincible.

If not for Ling Dan’s words, the rumors would have convinced him that something unspeakable had occurred between Wen Li and Zhou Huaijing.

A man always has a strong sense of defense and territoriality, especially toward his prey. He would keenly sense any threats nearby. Zhou Huaijing had unwittingly given Jiang Chen that false impression.

Though Zhou Huaijing never showed it outwardly, and the two were poles apart with no chemistry at all.

But to Jiang Chen, Zhou Huaijing was an inherent threat—and tonight, even more so.

After all, if Zhou Huaijing hadn’t been the bridge between the two families, seemingly trying to smooth things over, Jiang Chen’s temper would have driven him to hunt Wen Li down wherever she hid, forcing her to stay by his side.

Knowing his cousin Zhou Huaijing well, Jiang Chen knew he wouldn’t care about rumors sullying his reputation; he had plenty of women.

Jiang Chen embraced Wen Li once more. “You can make yourself so miserable during your period. Without me, what would you do?”

His kiss came suddenly, long and tender, pressing on her lips, the familiar taste overwhelming her.