The gentle hum of the shower filled the bathroom as Feng Mian stood under the stream of warm water, letting it wash away the day's exhaustion. The weight in her limbs gradually eased, she felt her mind temporarily lifted from the heaviness she had been carrying for so long. The simple pleasure of shopping with Lin Jia had brought a faint freshness to her thoughts, a reminder of what life could feel like beyond the walls of this apartment.
After drying off, she wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out, her demeanor relaxed. She walked over to the wardrobe and absently shuffled through the clothes inside, her fingers brushing over fabrics without much thought. She didn't feel the usual urgency to look perfect or put together, didn't feel the need to choose something that might catch his attention. She was simply dressing for herself tonight.
Finally, she pulled out a dress, a simple one, and slipped it on. But as she was closing the wardrobe door, something small and familiar caught her eye on the shelf above.
It was a tiny, hand-knitted sock, soft and delicate in pale yellow yarn, she crafted with precision.
Her hand froze mid-motion, her fingers resting on the edge of the door. The sight of it triggered a flood of memories, and she felt her chest tightening as her mind drifted back to those quiet moments when she had knitted it, her heart filled with hope and anticipation. She had been so eager then, so certain that this little life growing inside her would change everything.
But now, looking at it, all she felt was an overwhelming emptiness.
Letting out a shaky breath, she closed the wardrobe door with a dull thud, the sound echoing in the quiet room. She felt the walls around her pressing in, the once-familiar bedroom suddenly suffocating her. Without a second thought, she turned and left, needing to escape before the weight of the memories could crush her completely.
Feng Mian urgently slid open the glass door that led to the balcony, stepping out into the cool night air. The gentle breeze brushed against her skin, bringing a faint chill that made her shiver, her damp hair clinging to her forehead. She moved over to the railing, resting her hands on the cold metal as she leaned forward, allowing herself to feel the weightlessness of the open space in front of her.
Their apartment wasn't too high up, but it was high enough to offer a view of the city lights stretching out below. The soft glow of street lamps, the distant hum of cars, the gentle flicker of lights in nearby buildings, everything looked peaceful, calm. Out here, with the open sky above her and the vastness of the city laid out in front of her, she felt a quiet sense of tranquility.
She took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air grounding her. Out here, she could breathe a little easier, the weight on her chest loosening just enough for her to feel something other than numbness.
But as she looked out over the city, a familiar ache settled in her heart, creeping up slowly, filling the silence around her. She thought of all the moments she had spent waiting, hoping, sacrificing pieces of herself for someone who had never truly looked back at her. She had poured so much of herself into this life, into this marriage, clinging to the faintest traces of affection, hoping they would one day grow into something real.
Suddenly her phone rang, pulling her from her thoughts. She sighed, the sound feeling intrusive, and turned back inside. The ringing stopped just as she reached for it, leaving her staring at the screen in mild confusion. The caller ID showed an unknown number, unusual, considering her contacts could be counted on one hand.
She dismissed it, ready to set the phone aside, but just then, a notification popped up, a message from the same unknown number. She hesitated before tapping it open.
Her screen lit up with a photo, and her eyes took in the image slowly, registering every detail. In the picture, she could see Han Chen entering a door, his arm linked with Li Yun's hand. They were dressed formally—Li Yun in an elegant evening gown, Han Chen in a tailored suit. The background suggested they were attending a party, perhaps a corporate event or a high-society gathering.
Feng Mian stared at the image, waiting for the familiar sting of jealousy, the ache of betrayal. But to her own surprise, she felt… nothing. No anger, no hurt, just a strange, detached calm.
Then another message arrived, snapping her back to the moment. She opened it, reading the words with a quiet, steady gaze,
"You should have been listened, foolish woman."
She felt a small, bitter smile tug at the corner of her mouth. Once, a message like this would have left her shaken, would have stirred doubt and anguish. But now, she felt it annoying.
Without a second thought, Feng Mian locked her phone, setting it down and walked into the kitchen, the silence of the apartment pressing down on her. Aunt Xu hadn't come today, she had mentioned visiting her son, so it was up to Feng Mian to prepare dinner. She moved through the Cardboard, pulling out ingredients, her hands working with practiced ease.
But her mind was racing, caught up in a loop of questions she'd never allowed herself to consider before.
What am I still doing here? The thought crept in, quiet but persistent. Why am I here? What purpose does this life serve?
For so long, she'd believed her purpose was to be by Han Chen's side, to build a life around him. But now, looking back, she saw the truth with painful clarity. He had never needed her, he had never reached for her, not once. It was she who had clung to him, grasping at any small moment to fill the emptiness of her own life. The realization feeling cold and heavy, sinking into her bones.
As Feng Mian set the last dish on the table, the front door opened, and Han Chen walked in, still in his tailored suit. She looked up, her voice steady as she greeted him. "You're home. Dinner is ready."
He gave her a brief nod, glancing in her direction before heading to the bedroom. A few minutes later, he returned, his hair slightly damp, and took his seat across from her. They began eating in silence, each focusing on their own plate.
"How are you feeling today?" unexpectedly, he spoke breaking the silence.
Feng Mian's hand paused mid-reach, surprised by the question. She looked up at him, meeting his gaze for a brief moment before answering, "Better." She returned to her food, allowing the silence to fall between them once more, both of them slipping back into the quiet routine.
When she finished, she set her chopsticks down, taking a breath before lifting her gaze to him again. Her voice was calm, resolute.
"Let's stop here."