I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

He looked at her for a while, then finally restrained himself and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders.

Her breathing gradually became even and long, as if she was about to fall asleep. Actually, he thought she probably wasn't that sleepy, but she didn't want to talk to him, so she pretended to be asleep. Perhaps, being next to him, she didn't feel at home.

What if there is a child?

If she had a child, would she feel at home if she were with him?

If there is a little life that can cry, laugh, call for mom and dad, it will reconnect the broken, shattered, and irreparable things between two people.

Blood ties are a very strong thread, stronger than any promise or agreement.

Maybe she'll smile at the child, or get up in the middle of the night to breastfeed, her hair disheveled, her eyes half-closed, but her hand gently patting the child's back while humming a lullaby...

He used to think children were troublesome and didn't like them, but if it were Yun Muqian, he would be willing to have one.

He reached out and gently took her hand, which was resting beside the pillow.

Her fingers twitched slightly in his palm, as if startled, but she didn't pull them away.

He called her name, his voice low, "Shall we have a child?"

Her eyelashes trembled slightly, which he didn't see, but he could feel her fingers, which were holding his palm, stiffen for a moment.

"Didn't you say you wanted a child before?" His thumb gently stroked the back of her fingers, the movement slow. "Do you still want one now?"

The room remained quiet for a long time, the air conditioner still blowing warm air. Yun Muqian did not turn around, her voice coming from the gaps between the blanket and pillow, carrying a tired, detached calm.

"Qin Qihan," she said, "I don't want my child to face the prospect of parents living apart from birth. I hope my child can grow up surrounded by love."

Her voice was calm, without accusation or resentment, but every word cut into Qin Qihan's heart like a dull knife.

He stopped holding her hand and didn't move for a long time.

"Then let's make up," he said, his voice strained, as if something was blocking his throat.

"Let's not live apart. Let's live together like before, do everything together. Get up together, eat together, and when I'm working at night, you can read a book next to me, or wait for me to come home. Let's make up, okay?"

His voice grew faster and faster towards the end, as if he was afraid she would interrupt him before he finished listening. He gripped her fingers tighter, his knuckles turning white, as if he wanted to hold her firmly in his palm to feel at ease.

Yun Muqian remained silent for a while.

"not good."

Qin Qihan's hand clenched tightly and then relaxed. "...Why?"

"That's not what I want anymore."

"Then what do you want?" he replied almost immediately. "Tell me. I'll give you anything you want."

The mattress shifted slightly, and Yun Muqian slowly turned over, lying face up with her gaze fixed on the ceiling. Her expression was so faint that it could hardly be described as an expression.

Her eyelashes drooped slightly, her lips were pursed, and after a long while she spoke: "I want freedom."

Qin Qihan remained silent.

"I want a life where I'm not tied down by anyone." She finally realized that Qin Qihan wasn't so easy to break free from, so she earnestly told him about the life she wanted:

"I only want to live for myself."

The air in the room seemed to freeze. Qin Qihan pondered the meaning of her words: living only for herself? Was she not being herself when she was with him before?

Perhaps he was blinded by her unreserved and silent kindness, so much so that he never considered whether all of this was what she truly wanted.

He lowered his head. "You said before that you would always be by my side."

His voice was low, almost a painful whisper, "You said it, do you remember?"

She thought to herself, "We're all adults now. Words spoken are like water spilled; they don't count."

"Remember."

But so what?

Qin Qihan's fingers clenched in mid-air for a moment. He looked up at her, the thin layer of red in his eyes more pronounced than before. "Then you—"

"Qin Qihan," she interrupted him, "when I said that, I was serious. I wasn't lying to you."

"But I don't think that way anymore," she continued. "People change. You'll change, and I'll change. You can't use what I said before to bind me for life."

Qin Qihan remained silent for a long while: "Then tell me, when did you change? Was it the day we broke up, or even earlier? Or—"

He paused, as if it took a lot of courage to say what he was about to say: "When you were with me, everything you said and did was just an act for me?"

Yun Muqian looked away from his face. "You know how you treat me."

So you can't blame her for being heartless now.

"I fucking said I'd change," he said. "I really did change. I never let you suffer again. I even had my assistant give you all my schedules a day in advance, remember?"

He was somewhat devastated because he was afraid of being abandoned by her.

"Qin Qihan, I'm grateful that you've changed. But those things should never have happened in the first place. Your correction doesn't mean I owe you anything. You're atoning for your sins, not bestowing a favor."

Qin Qihan froze, her eyes filled with confusion.

"Then tell me," his voice began to tremble, "tell me what to do. What do you want me to do for you to give me a chance? Tell me, I'll do anything."

"What if I let you let go?" she said.

"If I tell you to never appear in front of me again from today onwards, never call or text me again, never check my schedule again, if I tell you to never bother me again..."

Her gaze was direct and unwavering. "Are you willing?"

She wasn't being stubborn, nor was she saying anything sarcastic or waiting for him to make amends. She genuinely wanted an answer from him.

His voice was so hoarse when he spoke that it was almost inaudible, "...I don't want to."

"That's it," she said. "I can't give you the answer you want. And you can't do what I want. Qin Qihan, we're even."

Even it out.

"I don't want to be even with you," he whispered. "I don't want to be even with you. I'd rather you hate me, I'd rather you owe me, or I owe you, whatever."

"Settling the score" means that the two parties are even, but he didn't want to settle things with her.

Then Yun Muqian would never be with him for the rest of her life, nor would she ever give him a kind look.

"The freedom you want," he said, retreating slightly. "And if I give it to you?"

"I won't check your schedule, I won't let anyone follow you, I won't call or text you, you can go wherever you want." His voice suddenly choked, then he forcefully suppressed it, "As long as you let me... stay where I can see you."

"Even if we're far apart," he said. "Even if you're sitting in a restaurant and I can't talk to you, just watching you is enough. It doesn't matter if you don't reply to my messages, I'll just keep watching you."

Yun Muqian's eyelashes trembled slightly.

"Qin Qihan," she said, "you're like this—"

"That's just how I am," he interrupted her, his voice hoarse but each word clearly enunciated. "I can't change. You want me to let go? I can't. I can't do it."

Yun Muqian gently pulled her hand out of his palm.

In that instant, Qin Qihan's palm felt empty. He looked down at his bare palm, his fingers slowly clenching and unclenching, as if grasping something unseen.

Then he turned around, leaned down, and pressed his lips hard against hers.

His heart ached terribly, it hurt so much, and only this could ease the pain in his heart.

When his lips pressed against hers, it was with an almost overwhelming force. Yun Muqian was knocked back by his impact, and the back of her head sank into the soft pillow.

His hand passed past her cheek, his palm resting under the back of her head, his knuckles slightly curled, as if protecting her from hitting the headboard.

This kiss was devoid of any skill; Qin Qihan's lips pressed against hers, dry and burning hot, with a reckless force.

Yun Muqian's hands were held by his sides, his left hand gripping her right wrist. The grip wasn't strong, but she couldn't break free. She didn't respond to his kiss, nor did she push him away; she just lay there quietly.

Qin Qihan sensed her quietness.

"Please don't do this," he said in a trembling voice. "You can hit me, yell at me, even bite me. Just don't stop moving."

His lips moved upwards again, returning to hers, and gently touched her lower lip: "Don't treat me like a stranger."

His breath hit her face, ragged, with a stubbornness that lingered even after being rejected.

He didn't want to be a stranger, but they had long since become like strangers.