Ming Mian stood in the hospital corridor, her gaze distant and unfocused as she held the medication bag in her hands. She had just finished her brief conversation with Sheng Xiang. The tension in the air was thick, yet she had managed to conceal her unease behind a faint smile. There was nothing more to be said between them. Not now, not after everything that had happened.
"Are you okay?" he had asked, the concern in his voice almost palpable.
She had responded with the usual indifference, a slight smile barely curving her lips. "Yes, I'm fine. Just picking up medicine for Wei Yuan," she had replied, not missing the fleeting look of something like hesitation in his eyes.
Sheng Xiang's gaze had briefly swept over the bag she was holding, his expression faltering for a second before he recovered. "Wei Yuan mentioned she wanted to see you earlier. She'll be happy to see you today," he had said, his tone even, but with an undertone that was difficult to decipher.
"That's good," Ming Mian had replied, her voice calm, her face betraying no emotion.
She had turned to leave, but Sheng Xiang had called her name, halting her in her tracks.
"Mian Mian..." His voice had softened, his words carrying a weight that had lingered in the air. "If you ever need help with anything, don't hesitate to ask. After all, the family is your support."
The words had struck her harder than she had expected. Family—her support? She knew exactly what he meant. Sheng Xiang was, after all, the closest thing to a brother she had in her life. They had been through so much together, yet his words felt empty, like a distant echo.
She had turned back, meeting his eyes for a brief moment, only to find her own reflection in the coldness of his gaze. "Thank you," she had murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Sheng Xiang had opened his mouth to say something further, but she had already turned away, walking briskly toward the exit. She didn't want to hear more of his words, not now, not when she was so caught up in the storm that was brewing inside her.
The drive back to her apartment was uneventful, the silence inside the car only amplifying her troubled thoughts. The weight of the words her brother had said hung heavily on her. "The family is your support." Was that all they saw her as? A mere figure in a game they played, a pawn to move around as they saw fit?
She gripped the steering wheel tighter, her knuckles turning white. The more she thought about it, the more she felt like a puppet on strings, with her every move dictated by the expectations of others. Her father, her husband, even her own brother—none of them ever asked her what she wanted. They just assumed, just like they always had.
Her fingers tightened around the bag of medicine on the passenger seat, a slight tremor running through her body. How long could she keep this up?
Arriving home, she parked her car in the underground garage, the sound of the engine dying as the silence of the apartment building enveloped her. She stepped out of the car and made her way to the elevator, each step heavier than the last. The lights in the hallway flickered as she walked, a small reminder that, like the lights, her life felt dimmed—always just a little too dark to see clearly.
Inside her apartment, she didn't even bother to change out of her clothes. She collapsed onto the couch, the bag of medicine still clutched in her hand. Her mind wandered back to the brief interaction with her husband earlier that day. Fu Yancheng. His name alone was enough to stir a sense of bitterness in her chest. The memories of their cold marriage, the transaction that had been arranged by their families, flooded back to her.
She had tried to make it work—tried to ignore the distance between them. But the reality was unavoidable. Their marriage was a business arrangement, nothing more. Her father had pushed her into it, just as he had pushed her into so many other things. All the while, Fu Yancheng had remained distant, cold, uninterested in her as a person. The idea of being in a marriage without love had once seemed bearable, but now, the constant reminder of their hollow relationship was suffocating her.
She shut her eyes, but sleep did not come easily. Her thoughts were too loud, too chaotic. The faces of her family, her husband, all seemed to blur together in her mind. Everyone had expectations. Everyone had demands. But no one had ever asked her what she truly wanted.
Her phone buzzed, breaking the silence. She groggily reached for it, blinking as the screen lit up. A message from her father.
"Have you spoken with Fu Yancheng yet? The meeting tomorrow is crucial. Make sure everything is arranged."
Her chest tightened as she read the message. Her father never missed an opportunity to remind her of her responsibilities, her duties to the Sheng family. But what about her? What about her own life, her own needs? Was she just a tool in this game they were all playing?
She sighed, running a hand through her hair. The message was clear. Tomorrow, she would meet Fu Yancheng. Tomorrow, she would once again play her part.
She typed a quick response. "Yes, I've confirmed the meeting with Fu Yancheng for tomorrow."
Before she could think more about it, the phone buzzed again. This time, it was a message from Fu Yancheng himself.
"Be ready at 10 AM tomorrow. Don't be late."
Her heart sank. His message was curt, demanding. It wasn't a request. It was an order.
She clenched her jaw, pushing down the feelings of frustration that bubbled up inside her. This was her life now. She had no choice but to comply.
She tossed the phone aside, rubbing her temples in an attempt to ward off the headache that had settled there. The thought of facing Fu Yancheng tomorrow was enough to make her stomach churn. She had no idea what he wanted from her this time, but she could already tell it wouldn't be anything pleasant.
But what could she do? She had been trapped in this life for so long, and there seemed to be no way out.
Her phone buzzed again, this time with a call from her mother, Su Lan. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the screen. Every time her mother called, it was always the same—either she was nagging her about something trivial or reminding her of what she was expected to do for the family.
Taking a deep breath, Ming Mian answered the call.
"Hello, Mom," she said, her voice flat.
"Where are you?" Su Lan's voice was sharp, full of authority. "I just spoke to your father. He says you're meeting with Fu Yancheng tomorrow. Have you prepared yourself properly?"
Ming Mian closed her eyes, trying to maintain her composure. "Yes, I've arranged everything. There's nothing to worry about."
"Good. Just remember, this marriage is important for your father and the Sheng family. Don't forget that." Su Lan's words were like a reminder, a mantra that had been drilled into her head for years. "You need to think about the bigger picture. This is for the family's future."
Ming Mian's grip tightened on the phone. "I know, Mom. I won't forget."
"Good. Don't disappoint us, Ming Mian."
The call ended, and Ming Mian stood there in the silence of her apartment, the weight of her mother's words hanging heavily in the air. Don't disappoint us.
It felt like a command, a warning. It always felt that way. She wasn't allowed to have her own dreams, her own desires. She was just a means to an end.
She dropped the phone onto the couch and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow was going to be another battle. Another day of playing the part she had been assigned. And she had no idea how much longer she could keep doing this.