Zhao Yu didn’t hear a single word of what was said outside.

The past surfaced once again, pulling her thoughts far away. By the time she came back to herself, Xu Chengyan had already pushed open the door and entered.

When the lights came back on, the smile on her face was once again radiant and triumphant.

Changing back into his clothes right in front of her, Xu Chengyan said, “We’re heading to the fifth floor. You leave on your own.”

Smiling brightly, Zhao Yu replied, “Rest assured, President Xu—I won’t deliberately show up in front of your future Mrs. Xu.”

Xu Chengyan laughed. “Even if you did, it wouldn’t matter.”

To be precise, it wouldn’t matter to him. Because his relationship with Zhuang Yiqing wouldn’t change in the slightest because of it. As for any impact on Zhao Yu, or whether Zhuang Yiqing might take it upon herself to teach Zhao Yu a lesson—that fell entirely outside the scope of his concern.

Once it was clear there was no one outside, Zhao Yu exited the fitting room.

To avoid the risk of being discovered by Zhuang Yiqing, she even put on a face mask.

The fishy smell of semen clung to her body, and there were white stains on her dress. She had no choice but to go to the restroom first to clean herself up, then wash and dry the patch of fabric at her chest.

After dawdling for quite a while, when she came back out and looked down through the circular glass wall in the center, she caught sight of Xu Chengyan and Zhuang Yiqing entering the elevator, one after the other.

“That Miss Zhuang’s wedding dress is just too beautiful. I really love it.”

“Bankrolled by money—it’d be strange if it weren’t beautiful. I heard their family is in the jewelry business. No wonder they could set such fine diamonds into it. A wedding dress like that? Ordinary people like us could scrimp and save our whole lives and still never afford it. Tsk tsk, it’s good to be rich.”

Listening to the two shop assistants gossip in hushed tones, Zhao Yu couldn’t help but sneer inwardly.

Being rich truly was something remarkable. It allowed you to trample other people’s dignity—even their very lives—underfoot, as you pleased.

The weather was growing increasingly hot; the store had already turned on the air conditioning.

A cool breeze blew gently, but she only felt cold all over. Her limbs were so weak she had no strength left. She could only drag her limp legs, shuffling step by step over to the sofa, where she slowly sat down.

She had thought that after three years, upon seeing the person she hated to the marrow of her bones, she would surely be able to remain calm. Regrettably, she had overestimated herself.

Her hatred, her pain, her remorse—at this moment, they all surged up fiercely, violently assailing her internal organs, nearly causing her to collapse and crumple to the floor.

Perhaps because she had been sitting too long, a shop assistant walked over and politely asked if she needed any help.

She shook her head. “No, thank you.”

Not long after that shop assistant left, another pair of gleaming leather shoes stopped in front of her. Wearily, she said, “I’ll just sit for a while. I don’t need any help.”

“Are you alright?”

It was Shang Lu’s voice.

She lifted her head and stared at him in astonishment. “What are you doing here?”

The moment she asked, the answer dawned on her. “Here to see engagement attire?”

“Mm.” Shang Lu responded flatly, then asked her in return, “What are you doing here?”

Only then did Zhao Yu remember she was still wearing a face mask. She hadn’t expected him to recognize her even so.

“Just browsing. Though I can’t afford anything here, it’s not bad to feast my eyes.”

Shang Lu asked, “Xue Zi’ang still hasn’t come?”

Zhao Yu’s eyes showed her confusion. Why was he dragging Xue Zi’ang into this?

Shang Lu said, “I heard them say you made plans to come here with your boyfriend. You’ve been waiting a long time, and he never showed up.”

Now it hit her. When she’d entered the store, she’d pretended to be looking at wedding dresses, casually making up a story about her boyfriend coming to join her—that she’d browse a bit on her own first, so there was no need for anyone to trail behind attending to her.

As a result, those gossipy shop assistants hadn’t noticed her quietly slipping into the fitting room for a tryst with Xu Chengyan. Instead, they’d concocted a grand drama in their heads about her being stood up—or even dumped—by her boyfriend.

Zhao Yu couldn’t be bothered to explain and prepared to just leave. But her legs were still so weak. The moment she stood, her body lurched sideways.

Shang Lu caught her just in time. “I’ll take you home.”

Zhao Yu shook her head and pushed him away.

By the time she came out onto the ground floor, she discovered that at some unknown point, it had started raining outside.

She really hated rainy days.

Staring blankly at the murky gray sky for a long while, she finally remembered she’d driven here.

Just as she turned to head back to the elevator, she found Shang Lu standing right behind her. She had no idea how long he’d been there.

Zhao Yu smiled. “Did President Shang come alone, or with his quasi-fiancée? Aren’t you worried about neglecting Miss Zheng?”

Shang Lu took off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders. Grabbing her arm, he led her toward the elevator. “I’ll take you home.”

His car was on the first basement level. He hadn’t brought a driver—he was driving himself.

Zhao Yu had already removed her face mask. Wrapped in his jacket, she sat in the passenger seat, silently watching the car emerge from the underground parking and slowly drive into the rain.

The raindrops grew heavier, pelting against the glass with loud splatters, splashing up clusters of crystalline water blossoms that streamed down in rivulets, one after another.

Watching pedestrians occasionally darting through the rain, Zhao Yu suddenly gave a small laugh. “It seems like the day we first met—it was raining, just like now.”

The car stopped at a red light. Shang Lu rested both hands on the steering wheel, gazing calmly ahead. “That day, the rain was even heavier than this.”

“You still remember?”

“I remember. For the rest of my life, I won’t forget.”

“Me neither.”

Because that was the most wretched day for both of them.

She had just barely recovered from a serious illness—thinly dressed, face deathly pale, so frail it seemed the downpour might wash her away at any moment.

He was covered in wounds, his leg bone fractured, the blood flowing from his body staining the nearby puddles crimson.

That day, one walking corpse had encountered another walking corpse.

Zhao Yu wrapped her arms tightly around herself, shrinking into his oversized jacket. She sniffled, wanting to cry, but no tears came.

It seemed that except when she was wearing a mask and performing, she could no longer cry.

After a long time, Shang Lu finally spoke. “Tang Xi.”

Zhao Yu looked at him and smiled. “My name is Zhao Yu. Have you forgotten? You were even the one who pulled strings and found connections to help me change my name. There isn’t even a former name on record. Tang Xi—she’s already dead.”

Shang Lu looked at her seriously. “No matter what you’re called—let the past go.”

Zhao Yu kept smiling. “And what about you? The things in the past—can you let them go?”

Shang Lu remained silent.

He didn’t take her to her apartment; instead, he brought her to the villa where he lived.

Before entering, Zhao Yu leaned against the wall, looking at him with a smile. “Aren’t you afraid someone will find out about my relationship with you?”

“What if they do?” He unlocked the door with his fingerprint and led her inside.

“The bathroom is on the second floor. Go take a hot shower first.”

He walked ahead of her. While going up the stairs, his right leg suddenly gave a spasm. His body tilted sideways, nearly causing him to fall.

This time, it was Zhao Yu who caught him in time. She asked, “Is it hurting again?”

He smiled indifferently. “It’s always like this on rainy days. I’m used to it.”

After a pause, he asked her, “What about you? Do you have any symptoms?”

Zhao Yu spread her hands. “I’m very fortunate. After the surgery, there were no aftereffects at all.”

Staring fixedly at her light, breezy smile, Shang Lu’s lips moved. But after hesitating, in the end, he said nothing. He simply continued leading her up the stairs.