My online dating circle has millions of followers, why would she put a collar on me?

Jiang Yi did not answer immediately.

He could feel that he was walking on a very narrow path, with a cliff beneath his feet and even deeper cliffs on both sides.

He didn't want her to feel like he was accusing her, but those suspicions prevented him from getting confirmation from Xia Anmian.

"I don't want to doubt you," he said, his voice even softer than before, "but I was indeed arrested by your men, tortured, detained all night, and forced to sign a confession. Those are all facts."

He paused, his gaze falling on her face, then on the surface of the drawer where she had put the box of folic acid, before looking away and back into her eyes, his voice slightly tense: "I want to know where you were last night."

Xia Anmian's breathing became noticeably heavier.

The soft glow completely faded from her face, replaced by something Jiang Yi had rarely seen in their three years together—not anger, but a disappointment colder than anger.

"Jiang Yi."

She called his name, her voice soft, but each word sounded like it was being squeezed out of her throat: "You still think of me like that?"

Jiang Yi was rooted to the spot by her words.

His lips moved as if he wanted to explain, to say, "That's not what I meant," but the words caught in his throat and he swallowed them back down.

Because he knew that was indeed what he thought.

Even if he was unwilling to admit it, even if he tried to cover up his suspicion with "just asking," the seed had already been planted. Jiang Miaomiao recanted her confession, Jiang Miaomiao died, Director Zhao had a car accident, and all the coincidences pointed in the same direction. And the person standing at the end of that direction was the girl who had spent three years with him.

"I'm sorry." He only managed to say those two words at the end, his voice hoarse. "I didn't want to doubt you, but I was indeed manipulated by your people..."

"My people?" Xia Anmian interrupted him, her voice slightly higher than before, but still within a restrained range. "You still believe I did that?"

Jiang Yi looked at her but did not answer.

Xia Anmian's lips curved slightly, but it was a bitter smile rather than a genuine laugh.

"If I really had that ability," her voice grew even softer, so soft it seemed it could be drowned out by the hum of the air conditioner overhead, "do you think Su Xiaoyue could survive?"

Jiang Yi's heart skipped a beat at that moment.

"Get out." Xia Anmian turned back to look at the computer screen, her fingers resting on the keyboard, but she didn't type anything for a long time. "I won't answer your questions. Ask yourself honestly, after three years of friendship, you didn't even give me a chance to explain, and now you come to question me. How could you do this to me?"

Jiang Yi sat in that chair, feeling as if his body was nailed there. He stood up numbly, wanting to open the door and go out, but those words were like hooks nailed to his chest, pressing him firmly in place.

He had indeed gone too far, unilaterally condemning her, especially after she had her own child. But what could he do? The thought of his sister gave him the strength to struggle again.

"Peace of mind..." he began, his voice slightly hoarse.

Xia Anmian did not turn around.

"go out."

Jiang Yi sat in the dark gray leather swivel chair, feeling the chair surface slowly absorbing the heat from his body and becoming warm.

He looked at Xia Anmian's profile, opened his mouth, then remained silent for a moment before finally choosing to ask the question that had been stuck in his chest for a long time: "I heard from Sun Miaomiao that you...you're pregnant?"

Xia Anmian's finger finally twitched.

Her gaze remained fixed on the now-darkened screen in front of her, not on him, but her breathing became shallower, half a degree shallower than when he came in.

The office was silent for a few seconds.

Then she spoke, her voice even softer than before, but each word was enunciated clearly, as if she were spitting them out one by one:

"So what if it is?"

Her gaze finally shifted from the screen to Jiang Yi's face, his eyes shining brightly in the halo of the table lamp.

"So what if it is, Jiang Yi?" she repeated, "What's it to you?"

Jiang Yi was speechless for a moment after hearing her words.

He really wanted to ask if the child was his, but was it necessary to ask?

Once you have a child, it can only be his.

Jiang Yi looked at Xia Anmian, at her face that appeared exceptionally clear under the warm yellow light, and suddenly realized something he had overlooked all night—she had lost weight.

There was a faint bluish tinge under his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well for a long time, and the curve of his chin was sharper than I remembered.

Jiang Yi suddenly felt as if something was blocking his throat.

He wanted to ask her how she had spent the past few days, when she had started taking the folic acid, and whether she planned to have the baby alone or had other plans.

But he didn't say anything.

Because he realized that he seemed to have lost the right to ask these questions.

Jiang Yi swallowed back the "I'm sorry," and replaced it with three other words: "I understand."

He stood up, the chair legs scraping softly against the wooden floor, a sound that was particularly clear in the quiet office.

Xia Anmian didn't look at him; her gaze returned to the now-darkened screen.

Jiang Yi looked at her profile and suddenly remembered what Sun Miaomiao had said in the elevator: "You've been dating her for three years, and you still don't know what kind of person she is."

Perhaps he truly didn't know.

Perhaps he never truly understood.

But at this moment, he understood at least one thing.

No matter how much doubt or unease he had, and regardless of whether Jiang Miaomiao's death was related to her or not, he shouldn't have questioned her in that tone when she was sitting in her office with that open box of folic acid tablets on the corner of her desk.

Jiang Yi took a step and walked towards the door.

As his hand rested on the cold metal handle again, Xia Anmian's voice came from behind him, not loud, but exceptionally clear in the quiet space: "I haven't been there."

Jiang Yi stopped moving.

"What?"

He turned to look at her, but she still didn't turn her head; she remained with her back to him.

"I said I didn't go there," Xia Anmian said calmly. "I didn't go to the Zhongshan branch. As for who did go, I'll send you the surveillance footage from those days to your phone, and you'll see for yourself."

Jiang Yi stood at the door, gripping the metal handle, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force.

He was silent for a few seconds, then said, "Thank you."