The rain poured in relentless sheets, drumming against the cracked asphalt reminded Lin Nuan that she needs to find shelter and stop memorising the past although it was hard for her. The streetlights above flickered weakly, their dull orange glow swallowed by the stormy night. She hesitated at the edge of the crosswalk, her breath misting in the cold air.
She stepped onto the wet street, her boots splashing into shallow puddles. Her mind was clouded, thoughts circling endlessly around the choices she'd made—the dreams she had abandoned, the friends she had pushed away, and most of all, her love for Shaoting.
Shaoting. The name that made her have butterflies and now it felt like a knife twisting in her chest. How foolish she had been to give him everything—her time, her trust, her heart—only to have it shattered and at that suddenly where did she go wrong. Lin Nuan blinked away the sting of tears. This wasn't the time to dwell on regrets. She just needed to keep moving forward, no matter how heavy the burden.
The storm masked the distant roar of an engine. Unseen, a truck hurtled down the street, its driver struggling to see through the rain-slicked windshield. Lin Nuan didn't notice it; her thoughts were too loud, drowning out the world around her. She barely registered the faint vibration in the ground, the telltale sign of danger hurtling closer.
The headlights caught her figure mid-step, but there was no honk, no warning—just the sickening crunch of impact. The world spun violently as her body was flung onto the slick pavement, landing with a dull, lifeless thud.
Pain exploded through her, sharp and all-consuming, but it quickly began to fade, replaced by a numbing cold. She blinked up at the rain-filled sky, her vision blurring as blood pooled beneath her. The crimson stain spread outward, a stark contrast to the pale light of the stormy night.
As her consciousness ebbed, fragments of her life flickered through her mind—her first love, the laughter she had shared with her friend and shaotings family, the quiet moments she had wasted away instead of chasing her dreams. She wished, with every ounce of fading strength, to go back and undo it all.
"I wish... I wish I could make it right," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. "I wish... I had never loved Shaoting."
Her eyelids grew heavier, the cold pressing in from all sides. In her final moments, she was no longer angry, no longer bitter. She was simply a woman who had loved too deeply and fallen too far.
The world dimmed into blackness, leaving Lin Nuan alone with her regrets.
But just as she surrendered to the silence, a sound pierced through it.
"Nuan… Nuan!"
The voice was faint at first, distant and muffled, like a memory trying to surface. It carried a desperation that tugged at her soul, a raw emotion that felt both foreign and achingly familiar. Someone was crying.
"Nuan, please..."
The sobs grew louder, clearer. The voice cracked under the weight of anguish, each word laced with a grief that seeped into the darkness around her. Lin Nuan felt it then—a warm current, gentle but insistent, flowing through the void. It pushed against the numbness, stirring something deep within her.
Who…?
Her thoughts were fragmented, hazy, but the warmth made her want to move, to fight the pull of the endless void. The voice was like a beacon, guiding her toward the surface, where light and life still existed.
"Is it… him?" she thought, her mind fluttering around the one name that had haunted her even in her final moments. Shaoting.
Regret twisted her heart. Had he followed her? Had he seen what happened? The thought of his face, etched with guilt and sorrow, made her chest tighten. Despite everything, a part of her still longed for him, still held onto the fragile hope that he had cared for her in some small way.
The warmth grew stronger, the voice more insistent.
"Nuan, don't leave… please!"
Tears mixed with the cries, their sound breaking through her haze. She strained to focus, her mind clawing for clarity. She wanted to see. She wanted to know who it was.
With monumental effort, Lin Nuan tried to open her eyes, but her body felt like it was wrapped in chains, heavy and unyielding. Her lashes fluttered weakly, the darkness threatening to reclaim her.
"Just… one look," she thought, her determination flickering like a candle in the wind.
But before she could break free, the warmth slipped away, and her consciousness crumbled. Her last thought was of regret—not just for Shaoting, but for all the moments she had wasted, all the words she had left unspoken.
And then, she fainted, the darkness swallowing her whole.