Mrs. Fu, please be mindful of the appropriate boundaries.

Xu Qingcheng hung up the phone, rested her hands on the table for a moment, and then took the documents out herself.

Walk to the shredder and shred and destroy the copied materials cleanly and thoroughly.

Yu Sheng came over to take over, but Xu Qingcheng avoided him, saying, "I'm fine on my own. Need anything? Call me."

"There's some activity at Kai Tak," Yu Sheng reported. "Tang Kejia went to Kai Tak."

Xu Qingcheng paused in her action of loading paper into the shredder. "I understand. Just keep an eye on it."

That evening, before Xu Qingcheng could even leave Shengshi, Fu Jingting called, reminding her to go back.

Xu Qingcheng hung up the phone immediately. She sat in the car, her eyes slightly darkened. One incident after another had kept her on edge, and Fu Jingting's iron-like control over her was also making her irritable.

He did the right thing by threatening her with her family. Xu Qingcheng scoffed and drove towards Jingshan No. 1.

During rush hour, traffic was terrible, with long queues in all three lanes. A family was in the right lane, with the windows down to let in some fresh air. The mother and two children were sitting in the back.

The older one is the older brother, around five or six years old. The younger one is the younger sister, held in her mother's arms. She's a tiny little bundle, looking about eight or nine months old. She's wearing a pretty little dress, and her hair is jet black but very short. If it weren't for her clothes, it would be hard to tell if she's a boy or a girl, but she's chubby and very cute.

The mother had a gentle smile on her face. She held the little girl on her lap, and the little baby bounced around.

Xu Qingcheng's gaze was too direct, and the other party's mother glanced over and smiled very kindly.

Xu Qingcheng smiled in response.

She looked away, and suddenly remembered Fu Jingting's words: she might be like him, or she might be like her.

My mind unconsciously conjures up images of children: pretty little girls with two braids and wearing little dresses; and handsome little boys with spiky hair, jumping around...

The car horn blared, urging her to hurry, and she realized the traffic had started moving. Xu Qingcheng quickly drove forward, taking a deep breath. What was she thinking? She was thinking too much.

The journey took a long time, and by the time we arrived it was already dark. As we turned into the roadside, we encountered a car with a license plate that looked somewhat familiar.

In the instant Xu Qingcheng was stunned, the car window had already been rolled down, and Ye Tinghong's gaze fell upon her from a distance.

Xu Qingcheng gripped the steering wheel tightly. She hadn't forgotten that Ye Tinghong had chosen this place as their wedding home. He had taken her there once before, before it was even renovated, and asked her what style she liked.

They were both very excited at the time, and they can't seem to remember what they said. They just remember being really happy. But that happiness was completely wiped out after Qingyao's accident.

Thinking back now, I feel a bit disoriented, as if all the events I experienced can't be pieced together into a specific timeframe in my mind. The joys of my youth have all become mere snapshots in photographs, and nothing more than snapshots in photographs.

She just assumed that Ye Tinghong had already sold off that useless wedding house.

Xu Qingcheng didn't roll down the car window. As soon as the car in front drove away, she followed and drove up.

Ye Tinghong knew she had seen him, but she didn't react at all, which stirred up a storm in his heart. He wasn't afraid of being hated by her; even when she filed a formal complaint against him and removed him from his key position in the political and legal system, he wasn't sad.

Everyone felt it was a pity for Ye Tinghong; a young man with a promising future had fallen from grace overnight.

Everyone thought Xu Qingcheng was ruthless; she could do this to a lover she had been with for many years.

He clearly had the opportunity to defend himself, and he clearly had the opportunity to escape unscathed from her accusations, but Ye Tinghong chose to remain silent.

He always wanted her to win at least once, even if it meant sacrificing his career. He also hoped she could win just once, so she wouldn't completely collapse, so that she could find a sliver of solace in her hatred for the Ye family, so that she could at least say to Qingyao: "Ye Tinghong is finished."

What he wanted was love or hate, love to the core and hate to the core, to make her remember him, to remember him forever, until he could come back to her.

Ye Tinghong pressed his finger lightly between his eyebrows and raised the car window. Since she was already considering divorce, he had to help her no matter what.

Ye Tinghong smiled wryly. His gaze fell on her hand holding the steering wheel. She loved jade and had studied painting and carving. With just a few strokes, she could bring things to life.

In the library, she doodled on his notebook, drew randomly on his hand with a ballpoint pen, and squinted at him, asking, "They say the ten fingers are connected to the heart, do you know where the closest part of your hand to your heart is?"

She leaned over the table, looked up at him, and asked, the ballpoint pen bobbing unruly between her fingers. He reached out and ruffled her hair. "I don't know."

"Here. At the base of your left thumb." She smiled and drew a small heart there with her pen.

Ye Tinghong felt a headache coming on as he looked at his hands covered in her scribbles, but he just wanted to indulge her. He felt happy and content with whatever she did.

Her heart could only be filled with memories. The emptiness and loss in her midnight dreams made her whole body ache. Ye Tinghong was actually glad that Fu Jingting had schemed against her, which finally gave him a glimmer of hope to win back his lost lover.

He followed the tracks she had left behind, wanting to take the same route as her and stop in front of the same door.

But we know that this is just wishful thinking at the moment.

The car suddenly made a U-turn at the intersection ahead.

Xu Qingcheng looked in the rearview mirror and pursed her lips.

It was already dark when Xu Qingcheng looked at the man standing at the door and paused for a moment.

He stood there, holding his phone in one hand. The light from the phone screen illuminated his face, which was shrouded in twilight. His expression was solemn. Then her phone rang.

It only lasted a moment, then stopped.

The man had already seen her car. He walked towards her, the streetlight casting a soft glow on his face, as if he were seeing a smile.

"You're back. Why are you so late?" His voice was hoarse.

Xu Qingcheng carried her bag and walked into the villa, but he took her hand. He held her hand tightly, not allowing her to break free, but the force with which he led her forward was not so forceful. He looked down at her shoes and said, "Change into flat shoes."

"Why?" she blurted out, then realized what was happening under the man's deep gaze.

He's a grown man, but he knows quite a lot.

Xu Qingcheng scoffed and entered the room. Wang Ma was busy in the kitchen, and there was a fresh smell of rice, so she must have steamed rice or cooked rice porridge.

I couldn't smell any other odors.

Xu Qingcheng couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief. She was now almost reflexively afraid of the strong smell of food, as it meant that she would soon experience a particularly unpleasant vomiting episode.

He released her hand. "Go wash your hands, come out and eat."

"Fu Jingting—"

"Let's talk after we finish eating." He placed his hand on her shoulder, his broad arm resting against her slightly slender back, pulling her close. Before she could react, he pushed her into the bathroom, and then, under her glare, he raised an eyebrow and asked, "Want me to wash your hands?"