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Tang Nuan, on the other end of the phone, prompted, after Song Qingchun’s long silence, "Do you need anything from Yinan?"

Even though Song Qingchun had a hard time accepting the truth laid out before her, she needed to save herself first. However, before she could ask Tang Nuan to pass the phone over to Qin Yinan, she heard the door of the bathroom being pulled open and "Tang Nuan, where’s the towel?"

"Coming," Tang Nuan replied and tossed the phone on the bed. Then, Song Qingchun heard the sound of footsteps padding across the floor. That was probably Tang Nuan handing Qin Yinan his towel because Song Qingchun could hear the rustling of fabric, like someone was drying his hair.

She couldn’t tell who the person that initiated it was, but she could eventually hear, through the sound of the whipping mountain gale, the intimate sound of kissing and Tang Nuan’s light, breathy moans...

Song Qingchun felt heavy pressure pressing down on her ears, making them hurt with extreme pain. She opened her mouth, trying to shout into the phone, but in the end, only her lips moved before she removed her phone from her ears and ended the call.

After Song Cheng’s death, he had been in the military, and she had survived the biggest loss in her life alone.

When he returned, he had promised he would make up for Song Cheng and treat her better on Song Cheng’s behalf, but when she desperately needed his help, he was too busy frolicking with another woman.

Her dream, which had been revived, was ruthless shot down again before it could even materialize into a confession. Song Qingchun tried her best to hold her tears back as she called her sister-in-law for help. No one answered. She tried her house’s landline, but that had no answer, too.

These were the people she thought of in her time of need, but in the end, none of them would come to her aid when she needed them.

The man she had loved ever since she was a little girl was occupied with another woman, and her living relatives were unreachable. It turned out, her beloved brother, who she was sure would have come to help her if he was still alive, had been murdered.

These two tragedies happening in the short span of one day had surpassed Song Qingchun’s mental capacity. She had never felt so lonely and helpless in her life before; it was as if the whole world had decided to abandon her.

After who knows how many calls she had made to her home, she finally could not help herself and collapsed with a sniffling weep in the middle of the mountain road. The girl cried desperately and despairingly.

She cried for the dream that she had harbored for years, which had finally and truly died in her heart.

...

Cheng Qingchong realized that Su Zhinian was curiously out of sorts that night. He kept glancing at his watch and hesitation was apparent on his face.

After the accident at work, Cheng Qingchong did not dare comment anything, so she remained silent throughout.

After they had finished dinner and were back in the car, Cheng Qingchong asked, "CEO Su, where are we going now?"

Su Zhinian’s eyes glossed over with melancholy when he heard that question. His lips stretched into a thin and finally answered, "Back to company."

A few minutes after the car had started moving, Su Zhinian suddenly said, "Wait..."

Then he paused, like he was having a great mental altercation inside his heart.

He really should give Song Qingchun a call. From her tone, he would be able to tell whether her confession was a success or failure, but he needed a reason. In just a second, Su Zhinian had settled upon an excuse, so he pulled out his phone from his pocket and made a call to Song Qingchun.