An 80s female translator was spoiled rotten by a rough and jealous man.

Chapter 242 End
The man stood behind her without making a sound. If it weren't for the tall, still figure lying on the ground, she would have thought he had already left.

A few seconds later, the man finally reacted. He took long strides around the stone block and walked straight ahead without saying a word.

Meng Youyou watched his figure gradually disappear at the end of the fork in the road.

With her limbs aching terribly, Meng Youyou finally slumped onto the stone bench, her two weak legs pressed against the cold stone bench wall, her shoe-wearing foot on the ground and her other foot resting on the shoe.

She stared down at her bare feet, where the dog had just rubbed against her ankles, where there was still some grayish, greasy dirt stuck to them.

Perhaps it was just psychological, but even from half a body's distance, Meng Youyou felt she could smell the sticky, foul odor emanating from his feet.

With her delicate eyebrows furrowed in resentment, Meng Youyou was utterly disgusted. If it weren't for her feet, which couldn't be amputated, and if it were just shoes or socks, she would have thrown them away on the spot.

The person returned, carrying her low-heeled leather shoes that she had somehow lost somewhere.

The man stopped in front of her, squatted down, and without saying a word, lifted her calf and rubbed it against his shirt sleeve.

Rough calluses, warm body temperature, long knuckles that could completely encircle her calf and wrist, her skin sensing every subtle sensation he brought her, both strange and familiar, both resistant and affectionate.

The soles of her feet rubbed against his left sleeve, quickly leaving a gray stain on the clean white fabric, a stark contrast. Then he switched hands, using his unstained right forearm sleeve to wipe the instep and ankle of her feet, his movements meticulous and precise.

No one uttered a sound throughout; it was as quiet as a silent film.

Meng Youyou watched him do all this expressionlessly, then gently put her foot back into the shoe he had picked up and placed it back on the ground.

He's used to using these hypocritical tricks to deceive her, he did it before, and now...?

The man finally looked up at her and spoke his first words of the day, "It's getting late, I'll take you home."

This was also the first conversation between the two of them in the past eight months.

It turns out... they've been apart for longer than they've been together.

Meng Youyou still didn't get up. Her gaze was unfocused, as if it were fixed on the stain on the sleeve of the person opposite her. She said to herself in a low voice, "I... received a gift in early July. It contained a dance dress and a diamond crown. Someone told me that you asked her to pass on that gift."

After she finished speaking, she paused for a moment, or rather, she waited.

Seeing that the other party did not respond for a long time, he had no choice but to ask again: "So, you don't have anything to say to me?"

The man spoke in a hoarse voice: "Yoyo, happy birthday."

Meng Youyou finally looked him straight in the eye and asked, "Is that all?"

He remained silent for a long time, and when he spoke again, he said dryly, "Oh, I'm sorry." This time, it was Huo Qingshan who lowered his gaze and looked away.

Meng Youyou heard a choked sound escape from her throat: "Okay, I understand."

Intelligent people's conversations are always straightforward. The reason for using this so-called "intelligent" approach, hinting and beating around the bush, is simply to maintain a certain level of decorum.

But that's just burying your head in the sand!
She plugged her ears, pretended to be drunk, and asked him a roundabout question, finally receiving an "I'm sorry" in return. The deafening sound of the bell echoed throughout the entire temple, reaching even those at the foot of the mountain. How could such a shred of dignity possibly survive?

After they parted ways, Meng Youyou wondered if she had ever truly understood him. But upon their reunion, she realized that she could actually see through him a little bit.

It wasn't much, just a tiny bit, but it was incredibly accurate.

For example, when she watched him disappear from her sight, she was certain that he had gone to retrieve her shoe and would come back. Sure enough, less than two minutes later, he returned with the shoe she had left behind.

And, during the process of him wiping her feet, they didn't exchange a single word.

But she gradually sensed that although he was gently and carefully wiping the dirt off her feet without the slightest disgust, he wasn't giving her any indication that they were getting back together, not even a hint.

Just like that day at the bus station, he worried that she hadn't eaten breakfast, so he rushed out and bought her breakfast before the bus departed, panting. But that didn't stop him from seeing her off.

The story has finally come to an end. They ultimately turned what they thought would be a long future into a farewell forever, but fortunately, Meng Youyou can afford to lose!

Meng Youyou stood up, smiled slightly, and said to the man who was still squatting on the ground, "The two things you gave me were very expensive, and there was a white dance dress among them, so I overthought things. I... thought you were trying to curry favor with me."

I understood what you meant earlier, but it seems I misunderstood.

"Although you might think we've already broken up, you only didn't say it too bluntly back then out of politeness or to save face for me." Meng Youyou spoke with extreme candor, in a suicidal monologue.

She decided to personally shatter that last vestige of pretense of dignity. She tore open her festering, rotten wound completely, spreading it out to the maximum extent, exposing it to the air. Then, without hesitation, she plunged a knife in and ripped out the poisonous abscess deep within.

Meng Youyou held her head high, "But I feel that I took this relationship seriously, gave it my heart, and it brought me many wonderful experiences."

"I was so happy...and I don't regret having had that relationship." As the girl said this, she couldn't hold back the tears welling up in her eyes. So, she tilted her head back even higher, forcing the tears back little by little.

She did this not because she felt it would be shameful to cry at this moment. She simply didn't want to cry here.

After the intense heat finally subsided, the girl continued, "So when it's over, we should talk it out clearly face to face, instead of ending it in a muddled way."

At least in my eyes, it deserves a formal explanation.

If you loved the wrong person, does that mean you can't admit you loved them? Do you have to deny all the sincerity you once had?

If you fall in love with the wrong person, should you pretend that you love them no more? Will that make the loss less painful?

Doing that would make you a complete coward.

She dares to love someone unconditionally and recklessly, and she dares to do it again next time—that's Meng Youyou. Not everyone can do that!

"Huo Qingshan, from today onwards, we have absolutely nothing to do with each other." She bent down, cupped his chin in one hand, and gently kissed him before pulling away. Gazing into his dark eyes, she said softly, "I wish us a happy breakup!"

One autumn evening last year, downstairs in the dormitory, she took the initiative to give him a light kiss, marking the beginning of their relationship.

It was another autumn evening. After the kiss, we became strangers.