Volume One, Chapter 15: The Confrontation

Su Ying and I were both art students during our school days, studying painting. We shared similar interests and always had plenty to talk about when it came to art.

I didn’t take her displeasure seriously and calmly explained, “I’m not feeling well and don’t want to go.”

“You really are delicate, feeling unwell everywhere. Shen Yixiao should take you for a full checkup—he’s got the money, why be so stingy?” Su Ying snapped irritably.

She didn’t ask where I was hurting; instead, she was annoyed that I was holding her back from going to the art exhibition and found my “delicacy” tiresome.

I shifted the topic abruptly to the dress issue. “Su Ying, when you tried on my dress last time, wasn’t it a bit tight?”

She hesitated, her tone unnatural. “No, it fit me perfectly. Why?”

“At the anniversary event, my dress started to tear. The brand said it was because someone pressed against it. That dress was custom-made to my measurements and fit me perfectly. Besides you, no one else has touched it.” My tone grew colder.

Su Ying started to defend herself, alternately blaming the dress quality and insisting I shouldn’t suspect her.

The atmosphere between us grew tense as we talked.

In the end, whether out of guilt or anger, she abruptly hung up on me.

I had no intention of asking her for compensation—she couldn’t afford it anyway.

I just wanted to let our relationship deteriorate. Rather than a superficial friendship, I’d rather have a clear enemy.

That evening, Shen Yixiao came home and told me Su Ying had contacted him.

He embraced me from behind, his strong arms like a cage, trapping me so tightly I felt suffocated.

He whispered, “Weren’t you eager to go to that exhibition? I already prepared the invitations, including one for your best friend. Just think of it as a way to relax.”

He wanted me to go—maybe because he thought I was too stifled at home or wanted to distract me from dwelling on Lu Xiaoyun.

I had a plan forming inside me. If I were ever to leave Shen Yixiao, I needed a way to support myself. Painting was a skill I had to not only revive but also expand my horizons and integrate into the art circle.

“Alright, then give me the invitation,” I said, seizing the opportunity to free myself from his embrace.

He turned and pulled out two exquisite invitations from his coat, then went off to the study.

—

The next day.

I drove to the exhibition.

Many renowned artists had gathered there. Though I was unknown in the circle, having appeared on a variety show with Shen Yixiao—and with his love for public displays of affection—many people recognized me.

I exchanged contacts with them, planning to build my network gradually.

As the exhibition was winding down, I prepared to leave.

“Li Yue.” Suddenly, a clear and sharp voice called out. It was Xu Zhengnan.

I was stunned, turning to look at him, momentarily speechless.

Seeing him made me nervous—a habit etched deep into my bones.

I had secretly liked him since childhood, so my heart raced and I grew anxious whenever I saw him.

After being with Shen Yixiao, who opposed the idea, I became even more nervous around Xu Zhengnan, fearing his disapproval.

Now, my anxiety stemmed mainly from not wanting him to see how pitiful and bleak my life had become.

“Alone?” He took a few steps toward me. His blue denim shirt was thin and slightly creased but fitted well, paired with black jeans that were casual yet elegant.

He looked at the painting I was holding—a piece I had chosen to buy today.

“Yeah, why are you here?” I asked, feeling slightly awkward.

“My parents are back. As a neighbor, I wanted to buy a painting for them as a gift,” Xu Zhengnan replied casually.

I used to visit the Xu family often as a child, and his relationship with my parents was just as close.

Especially my father, who always praised Xu Zhengnan as smart, steady, and destined for great things.

I fell silent, my mind drifting to that boy named “Mingming.”

Xu Zhengnan put his hands in his pockets, calm and composed. “I remember you studied art in high school. How about helping me pick one?”

“Sure.” I didn’t refuse because I wanted to give my parents a gift, even though I couldn’t face them directly.

Sending a gift through Xu Zhengnan would be fine.

Inside the gallery, we walked one after the other, barely speaking. I scanned the paintings on the walls, pondering which one my parents would like.

Xu Zhengnan was busy; in just ten minutes, he took two or three brief calls.

—

As I was distractedly watching his back, Shen Yixiao’s call came through.

“Where are you?” His voice was taut, clearly different from usual.

“I’m at the exhibition,” I answered calmly, not worried.

He took a deep breath and skipped the small talk, ordering, “Leave immediately. I’ll be at the entrance in five minutes to pick you up.”

Before I could respond, he hung up.

Xu Zhengnan stared at me without blinking. When I put down the phone, he spoke with a distant, indifferent tone, “If you have to go, go ahead. I’ll handle the painting.”

I didn’t want Shen Yixiao to find me there, nor did I want him to see Xu Zhengnan.

Pointing to a painting of sunflowers on the wall, I hurriedly said, “This one. My parents love sunflowers. We used to grow them in our yard when I was a kid.”

Xu Zhengnan glanced up at the painting. Without saying more, I hurried away.

As I reached the main entrance, I saw Shen Yixiao’s car.

He opened the door, his face clearly showing anger but restrained.

I got into the passenger seat. “Let’s go home.”

He remained silent all the way back. I didn’t understand why he suddenly seemed so irritable, as if I had done something wrong.

Only when we arrived home did he abruptly ask, “When did he come back?”

“Who?” I feigned ignorance, though I already guessed who he meant.

“Xu Zhengnan!” Shen Yixiao snapped, clearly annoyed and upset.

Seeing his displeased and angry expression took me back to when we first got together—when I confided all my secrets, including my old crush on Xu Zhengnan.

Back then, he would scowl, jealous, asking, “Who’s more handsome, me or him? Who do you like more?”

Now he wasn’t so childish, but his hostility hadn’t lessened in the slightest.