Chapter 32: Saying One Thing, Meaning Another

The hospital called with news: Song Xieling was awake. Mo Yao rushed over immediately, finding him sitting upright in bed.
“How are you feeling now, Song Xieling?” she asked, her voice soft and sweet as she settled beside him—nothing like the sharp-edged girl who stood before her brother.

A faint smile tugged at the corners of his delicate brows. “Mo Yao… thank you. I’m much better now.”

“Yeah,” she said, already reaching for a fruit knife to peel an apple. “The doctor said you’ll be discharged in three or four more days.”

He reached out and gently stopped her hand. The warmth of his touch seeped into her palm. “You don’t have to do this. Be careful—you could cut yourself.”

She looked up, then down again, her voice tender. “It’s okay. I can handle it.”

“No,” he insisted, firm and decisive. He took the fruit and knife from her with a quiet authority that surprised even himself.

Mo Yao sat there, eyes locked on him—on the way his long lashes cast shadows like ink-dipped feathers floating in water, on the quiet grace of his profile when he was serious.

“Hmm? What’s wrong?” he turned toward her, noticing her daze.

Her cheeks flushed instantly. Her heart hammered against her ribs. “N-nothing…”

He studied her for a moment, then spoke quietly. “Mo Yao… right now, I’m still just a poor boy. You’re a rich girl. People around you will always be better than me.”

Her smile vanished like smoke. A tear welled in the corner of her eye. “Song Xieling… I like you.”

Silence. Thick and heavy.

He seemed to understand. Let out a slow breath. “I’m so grateful you helped me. If you ever need anything, I’ll give you everything I have. But your happiness… I can’t take that risk. I won’t.”

She bit her lower lip hard, fingers twisting the fabric of her dress. “You’re trying to rebuild your family, aren’t you? I’ll help you. When you succeed… then tell me your answer.”

His gaze flickered away instinctively. “Mo Yao… you deserve someone better.”

“I don’t know what ‘better’ is,” she whispered. “All I know is I want to hold onto this moment. Right now… I like you.”

Suddenly, she stood. Pressed her body against his, pinning him gently but firmly to the bed. Then, without warning, she leaned down—and kissed him.

He froze. Breathless. Stunned. Only when she pulled back did he blink, slowly coming to life.

“Remember this, Song Xieling,” she said, voice low and fierce. “You’re mine.”

And with that, she turned and walked out of the room.

Inside the hospital room, Song Xieling stared at his lips, stunned, yet strangely satisfied. “So soft…”

Their hearts pounded in unison. Faces flushed red—equal in heat, equal in surrender.

Tang Yan hurried home, but once inside, she didn’t know how to ask Xiao Li about Li Chuzhe. She stared at the business card in her hand—Han Li.

*Why was Li Chuzhe so broken that night? Even with aphrodisiacs, it shouldn’t have been that bad.*

She knew nothing about such drugs. Never had the chance to learn.

But then it hit her—*why would he even have access to something like that?*

The thought chilled her. She realized she needed to leave this man—fast.

By evening, Li Chuzhe returned home, face dark, fingers fumbling with his tie. Tang Yan approached him, holding a file.

His eyes narrowed as they landed on the document on the table. *Divorce papers.*

“What’s this?” His voice was cold, edged with warning.

Tang Yan had seen this look before. She sat calmly on the sofa. “Literal meaning. I want a divorce.”

He ignored her. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I’m not crazy. I just don’t want to be with you anymore. I’ve signed it. Sign it too.” She pushed the paper forward.

He picked it up. A bitter smirk curled his lips. “I refuse.”

“Li Chuzhe, you don’t get to say no. We agreed on this already.”

His stare burned through her. Her resolve made his chest ache—tight, suffocating. “If you find someone else, I’ll let you go. But not now.”

She stayed seated, clenching her jaw to keep from screaming. This wasn’t the first time he’d played dirty. “Fine. You’re a scoundrel.”

From then on, Tang Yan went full-on dating mode. Every date ended in disaster—somehow sabotaged. She soon realized: Li Chuzhe had sent people to ruin them all.

Frustrated beyond reason, Li Chuzhe couldn’t figure out why she was so desperate. Had he done something wrong? No answers.

Then—lightbulb. He remembered: he hadn’t used his other identity yet.

He quickly logged into a hacker site. As soon as he connected, a message popped up from Mo Yao.

> **Yangchao:** I need to go on a mission soon. You’re coming with me.

Meanwhile, Tang Yan was bored, idly logging in. When the mysterious user “Nightfall” came online, she felt an odd flutter in her chest.

“Where to? When? What’s the plan?” she typed.

> **Nightfall:** There’s a resort island at S University. People keep vanishing without a trace. My job: find out why, rescue survivors if possible. Meet me at the city center of S University at 9 p.m. tomorrow night.

She hadn’t even finished typing her reply when the screen went dark.

“Ugh. Real bossy. Can’t even chat a little?” she muttered.

Since Tang Yan filed for divorce, Li Chuzhe hadn’t come home once. Probably afraid of making another mistake—because if he did, he’d lose her for good.

Both were consumed by anticipation for the trip. Tang Yan packed early, ready and waiting.

“Xiao Li.”

Li Chuzhe sat in his office, cigarette dangling between his fingers.

“Yes, boss?”

“Did that old lady contact you?”

Xiao Li’s face paled. “No! Boss, please stop teasing me. I don’t care about her at all. Just leave me alone!”

Unseen by Xiao Li, Li Chuzhe watched him closely—every twitch, every shift. One wrong move, and he’d be sent to work in a nightclub.

“If she reaches out, let me know. Oh, and pack my things. I’m leaving tomorrow.”

“How long will you be gone?”

“A week, maybe.”