This remark was like a switch, easily triggering Qiao Jingxue's tears.
Crying, she threw herself into Zhao Hanchen's arms, her voice choked with sobs, "Achen, I hate you so much. Why couldn't you have held on for me back then?"
The marriage arrangement between Qiao Jingxue and Zhou Siheng was the result of the Qiao Family's decline, seeking to cling to the Zhou Family's prominence.
Zhou Jingwei held considerable sway in the Zhou Family and possessed a distinguished status, and the Qiaos dared not harbor any aspirations towards him, so they set their sights on the Zhou Family's closest branch's eldest son, Zhou Siheng.
At that time, Qiao Jingxue was already Zhao Hanchen's girlfriend, but Young Master Zhao was only twenty years old, far from having a firm footing in the Zhao Family. Marrying a woman who offered no benefits to his career prospects was, unsurprisingly, met with opposition from everyone.
Thus, a first love came to an abrupt end effortlessly.
The breakup was not heart-wrenchingly painful, but it was also hard to forget.
Zhao Hanchen had always felt guilty about what happened back then, so the girlfriends he found over the years all had little traces of Qiao Jingxue about them.
He no longer had a way to compensate her, and when he was with these women who bore a resemblance to her, his guilt would ease somewhat.
He patted Qiao Jingxue's shoulder, his eyes filled with pity and self-reproach.
Facing Qiao Jingxue's blame, he could only mutter helplessly, "It's raining. Can we talk about this inside, please?"
Qiao Jingxue cried pitifully in his embrace, and after a long while, she finally pinched the hem of his clothes and nodded with sobs.
The entrance hall of the door was scented with jasmine and burning incense.
When Zhao Hanchen pushed open the door and entered, he felt slightly bewildered for a moment.
There was a sandalwood-colored sachet placed at the door, which Cheng Weiyue had given him not long before.
The young lady was a Buddhist, and this sachet, according to her, was sought from a temple, even embroidered with some Sanskrit on it.
Zhao Hanchen shifted his gaze away but paused in his steps.
He instinctively reached for the cell phone in his pocket.
He had just received a call from Qiao Jingxue, and upon hearing her crying on the phone, his thoughts had been in disarray, only thinking of hurrying to see her.
In his urgency along the way, he had indeed been too rash.
Only now did he recall that he had left Cheng Weiyue alone in the restaurant to deal with Zhou Jingwei, unsure if she could handle it.
Having known Zhou Jingwei for so many years, he knew the man was sly and hard to deal with, his smile hiding a blade.
As he thought this, he took out his phone to contact Cheng Weiyue, but immediately saw the dozen-odd missed calls that had popped up, all from her.
He hesitated over whether to make the call or not, when Qiao Jingxue suddenly and slowly embraced him from behind.
Her voice was very light, as if she had sighed, "Achen."
Zhao Hanchen turned off the phone screen and looked down at the delicate hands clasping his waist, "Jingxue, you are married now; you shouldn't hold me like this."
The woman behind him trembled slightly in her breathing, then naturally released her arms.
She walked to face Zhao Hanchen, her face flirtatious and bold, with red lips and white teeth, and gleaming eyes, she said, "You shouldn't use someone else as my substitute either, Achen. Let the young lady go. Didn't I just see her name? Her name is Ningning, right?"
Zhao Hanchen's brow furrowed.
But in the end, it was he who felt guilty towards Qiao Jingxue. Even if her words were somewhat offensive, he did not get angry.
Instead, her words pierced through his self-deception.
Did Cheng Weiyue resemble Qiao Jingxue?
The first time Zhao Hanchen saw Cheng Weiyue, the eighteen-year-old girl stood graceful and upright at her entrance celebration, dressed in white chiffon, with cherry-red lips, her every feature radiating a stunning beauty, yet she was as immaculate as can be.
Like Qiao Jingxue, her features were bright and beautiful, yet completely different.
He had given himself a reason, a justification to keep her by his side with a clear conscience.
Zhao Hanchen's back broke out in a slight sweat as he belatedly realized that he had never actually seen Cheng Weiyue as a substitute for Qiao Jingxue.
Cheng Weiyue was just Cheng Weiyue, the one who could infuriate him to death, yet he still kept her close.
His fingers tightened slightly as he looked at Qiao Jingxue's face, saying seriously, "But she doesn't resemble you at all."
Thus, in the dimly lit and quiet entrance hall, Qiao Jingxue's expression gradually became rigid, stiff, petrified...
The meeting was anything but smooth, ending with Qiao Jingxue's hasty retreat.
She left in a hurry, her eyes brimming with unshed tears and a bitter smile as she bade Zhao Hanchen farewell, "Sorry, it was all my wishful thinking. It's getting late, I should leave first."
Zhao Hanchen didn't stop her, and after she left, he noticed a champagne-colored earring on the ground.
He bent down to pick it up, silently gazing at it, confusion and bewilderment slowly creeping into his eyes...
The next morning, Cheng Weiyue received a call from Zhao Hanchen at dawn.
On the other end of the phone, his voice sounded weary and exhausted as he hoarsely said, "I'm waiting for you at the entrance to your place."
Cheng Weiyue hadn't quite woken up yet; without bothering to dress up, she simply washed up a bit and left the house in her pajamas.
Zhao Hanchen's black Bentley conspicuously spanned the entrance of the alley, attracting sideways glances from passersby in broad daylight.
Seeing Cheng Weiyue's figure, the driver opened the car's rear door for her.
Under the curious gaze of the onlookers, Cheng Weiyue braced herself and got in.
Today, Zhao Hanchen was dressed in a black shirt and a wine-red tie, looking very businesslike.
He intended to go on a business trip out of town and had whimsically decided to see her before leaving.
Perhaps... he was a bit longing.
No sooner had Cheng Weiyue sat down than he pulled her into his embrace.
Zhao Hanchen touched the fluffy bunny ears at the back of her pajamas, his phoenix eyes smiling, "Childish."
Cheng Weiyue just felt very shy as she looked at the man's demonically handsome face, her heartbeat quickening.
"Mom bought it for me," she murmured in defense.
Zhao Hanchen didn't show any sign of having heard her; instead, he asked, "After I left last night, Zhou Jingwei didn't make you uncomfortable, did he?"
Cheng Weiyue's brows immediately furrowed.
She looked at Zhao Hanchen displeased and stated matter-of-factly, "Zhou Jingwei is a very gentlemanly person, very respectful towards girls. He's not what you describe."
Zhao Hanchen scoffed, cursing Zhou Jingwei in his heart for being such a good actor.
All these years, only he had seen through that the man was a wolf in sheep's clothing.
"Anyway, he's a very crafty man, not a good person at all."
Cheng Weiyue, actually harboring some resentment for Zhao Hanchen's abrupt departure the previous evening and his subsequent lack of communication, couldn't help but retort, "What about you then? Is your 'Jingxue' such a good person? What kind of good person calls someone else's boyfriend away at seven or eight at night!"
Zhao Hanchen was taken aback, seeing Cheng Weiyue's sharp-tongued demeanor for the first time and was momentarily stunned.
When he came to his senses, his expression darkened unpleasantly, "Who taught you to speak so acidly?"
Cheng Weiyue thought she must have misheard. Was he scolding her? Didn't he need to explain himself to her?
It was only when Zhao Hanchen grasped her chin in his hand and narrowed his eyes, his voice stern as he said, "Say you're sorry," that she realized he wasn't.