I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

Outside the door, Shen Xubai's hand was already on the doorknob.

He chased after her, though he didn't know who this man who suddenly appeared out of nowhere was. But he and Yun Muqian got along very well; their personalities were compatible, their values ​​aligned, and they should be together.

Almost immediately after they met, Shen Xubai spent a fortune to express his feelings.

But he also knew that Yun Muqian was an ambitious and intelligent woman, and there must be quite a few men who liked her, so he had to keep a close eye on her.

But just as his fingertip pressed down, those words leaked out from the crack in the door.

"Do you really want me to marry you?"

Shen Xubai stopped moving.

He stood outside the door, his hand still on the handle, his knuckles white from the force, but he didn't press down an inch further.

He heard Qin Qihan's voice—a hoarse voice so low it was almost a soliloquy.

He should have felt relieved. He should have thought, "You deserve it, who told you to interfere in our relationship?"

But when he heard the next sentence, he suddenly froze.

"If you're going to lie to me, at least make it convincing."

Shen Xubai's Adam's apple bobbed. Could it be that he was the third party?

He realized that she had never had a heart-to-heart talk with him, nor had she ever shared her past with him. He thought she was just slow to warm up, but he never expected that she had someone else in her family.

The voices from inside the door continued. Qin Qihan said, "I really will marry you."

Then her voice rang out:

"Qin Qihan, you're going to marry me? What do you have to offer? You don't even know who I am."

Why do you say that? Do you think I don't understand you?

You don't understand.

"I understand," he insisted. "Even if there are things I don't understand, you can just tell me."

Her voice rang out again from inside the door, "Qin Qihan, let me go. You saw it today, I have someone else, I love him very much, give up."

Upon hearing this, Shen Xubai's lips suddenly twitched into a smile.

That makes things easier; she'll come out on her own.

Shen Xubai waited quietly, but a few seconds later, the man inside the door said, "I love you."

The next second, Shen Xubai gripped the doorknob and pressed it down hard.

The door opened, the room was dark, and the city lights outside poured in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, outlining the silhouettes of the two people.

Yun Muqian stood in front of Qin Qihan with her back to the door. When she heard the sound of the door lock turning, her shoulders trembled almost imperceptibly.

Qin Qihan's gaze passed over her shoulder and landed on the disheveled man with blood at the corner of his mouth at the door.

In that instant, the last vestige of restraint in his eyes vanished.

"You still dare to come?" His voice was icy.

Shen Xubai stepped inside, not looking at him, but his gaze fixed on Yun Muqian, his tone steady: "I've come to take her away. Is there a problem?"

Qin Qihan's gaze was frighteningly deep. Yun Muqian suddenly turned around and stood between the two of them.

"That's enough."

She opened her arms, her palms resting against Qin Qihan's chest. His breathing was heavy, his chest heaving: "Tell me, are you going with him, or are you coming with me?"

"I'm not going with anyone," she said. "Give me some time. You all need to calm down and think things through, and so do I."

Qin Qihan's brow furrowed slightly. Just as he was about to say something, she suddenly took half a step forward, her toes almost touching his shoe. She tilted her head back, lowered her voice, and whispered in a voice only the two of them could hear.

Give me a few days.

Qin Qihan's pupils contracted slightly.

He knew in his heart that this was probably a lie. He had known her for so long; she was such a good actress.

But she still managed to fool him.

"A few days?" he asked.

"Seven days," she said. "I'll call you in seven days."

Qin Qihan lowered his eyes, looked at the hand that was pressed against his chest, and finally took a step back.

......

Seven days.

He believed it.

Seven days later, Qin Qihan woke up on the sofa. The room was dark, the curtains were not drawn, and the light from his phone screen stung his eyes. He glanced at the time: 2:47 PM.

He hasn't left the house in a long time.

An empty wine bottle sat on the coffee table; it had been opened after I came home that night, and I'd only drunk half of it before putting it down. There were no missed calls or messages on my phone.

He opened her chat window; the last message was from before the banquet started that day.

The assistant finally couldn't hold back any longer. Qin Qihan hadn't come to the company for three days, and wasn't answering his calls or replying to messages. At first, the assistant thought he was with Miss Yun, but after finding out about the banquet that day, her heart sank.

That morning, he finally got the spare key and went to Qin Qihan's house.

When the door was pushed open, a strong smell of alcohol and the stuffy smell of the enclosed space hit the door.

The curtains were drawn, letting in only a sliver of pale sunlight through the cracks. Qin Qihan leaned back on the sofa, still wearing the shirt from that banquet, wrinkled beyond recognition, with the collar open.

The wound on his chin had scabbed over, and he looked noticeably thinner.

The assistant stood at the door, nearly dropping the keys in his hand.

"President Qin?"

Qin Qihan moved slightly, lifted his eyelids, saw that it was him, and then closed them again.

"Get out." The voice was so hoarse that it was almost unrecognizable.

The assistant came in, closed the door, bent down to tidy up the empty wine bottles on the coffee table, and then went to draw back the curtains. The moment the light flooded in, Qin Qihan frowned and raised his hand to shield his eyes.

"Who gave you permission to drive?" he said.

"President Qin," Li Ming stood by the window, looking at him like this, and remained silent for a few seconds, "you need to eat something."

Qin Qihan did not respond. He lowered his hand, and after his eyes adjusted to the light, he looked at the gray sky outside the window, then suddenly spoke, his voice very soft, as if he were talking to himself:

"I have a question."

"You said."

"Do you think," Qin Qihan's Adam's apple bobbed, "that Yun Muqian truly loves me?"

"Or is it," Qin Qihan continued, "that she just wants my money?"

The assistant already had an answer to this question in mind. Over the years, he had seen all sorts of people trying to get close to Qin Qihan, and Yun Muqian's methods were the most skillful and successful.

But he couldn't bring himself to say those words.

He looked at Qin Qihan leaning back on the sofa, and at the emptiness in the eyes of that man who had always been so composed and never lost his composure. He felt a pang of sadness.

"Mr. Qin," the assistant carefully chose his words, "I think... Miss Yun probably just needs time to process what's happened these past few days. After all, that day—"

Halfway through his sentence, Qin Qihan suddenly sat up straight.

Say it again.

The assistant was taken aback: "I said she might need some time—"

"Yes." Qin Qihan's eyes suddenly lit up. "She's probably too flustered and needs to calm down—"

He stood up, bracing himself against the sofa armrest, swaying slightly. His assistant quickly stepped forward to support him. Qin Qihan pushed his hand away, walked barefoot to the coffee table, bent down to pick up the phone, turned on the screen, and dialed the number again.

"The number you dialed is not in service."

The mechanical female voice echoed over and over again in the quiet living room.

Qin Qihan's fingers gripped the phone so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

What?

"President Qin,"

The assistant hesitated for a moment, then said, "I had someone check that number yesterday. The carrier's records show it was cancelled four days ago, and the real-name information has been deleted. Miss Yun... must have moved."

Qin Qihan stood still for a long time.

A breeze blew in from the window, causing the curtains to flutter slightly. Sunlight shifted an inch on the floor and fell on him. He finally put his phone down.

"She moved away." He repeated the word, his voice flat and emotionless. "Does she want me to die in front of her?"