I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

No matter how much Qin Qihan pestered her, none of that mattered anymore.

The following day at noon, Yun Muqian walked into the inpatient department of the city's central hospital carrying an exquisite paper bag. Sunlight streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting a warm glow on the white tiled floor of the corridor.

She walked a few steps in her high heels and stopped in front of a private hospital room, glancing inside through the glass window in the door.

Zhou Xue leaned against the headboard, wearing a light blue hospital gown, with a conspicuous white gauze wrapped around her wrist, extending from her palm to the middle of her forearm.

Her face was much paler than when Yun Muqian last saw her, and her originally round cheeks were slightly sunken. However, she seemed to be in good spirits, looking out the window with her head turned to the side, with a half-finished glass of warm water beside her.

Yun Muqian raised her hand and knocked on the door, then pushed it open and went inside.

Zhou Xue turned around upon hearing the noise, and paused noticeably when her gaze fell on Yun Muqian's face. "You've come."

Yun Muqian walked to the chair by the bed and sat down, placing the paper bag on the bedside table. "I came to see you and brought you something."

Zhou Xue's gaze fell on the paper bag.

Instead of immediately asking what it was, he said:

"You've been visiting me more often these past few days," she said, her voice weak, as if she hadn't fully recovered her strength. "My mom came yesterday, cried all afternoon, and I sent her away. She said I'm crazy, but I'm not."

"Of course you're not crazy. Everyone has moments of emotional breakdown."

"Do you know why I cut my wrists?" Zhou Xue suddenly asked.

Zhou Xue didn't wait for her reply and continued speaking to herself:

"I called him that night. I called several times, but he didn't answer any of them. Later, his assistant answered and said he was unavailable. I said, 'Then tell him to call me back when he's available; I have something very important to tell him.' Then I waited all night, but he didn't call back."

She held up her bandaged wrist and twirled it in front of her eyes. "Then I sat on the edge of the bathtub and stared at the razor blade for a long time. I wondered why I did it. Was it because he wouldn't answer my calls?"

"Not entirely. It's because he thinks I'm not important anymore. He thinks I'm not important anymore, and I think I'm not important anymore either. But—"

She paused, lowered her hand, and placed it back on the blanket. "When I was taken to the hospital, got stitches, and woke up in the hospital bed, I looked at the ceiling and suddenly it all made sense."

Yun Muqian sat there quietly, leaning slightly forward, simply listening.

Zhou Xue turned her head to look at her, the self-deprecating smile on her lips deepening.

"What's the use of threatening suicide? If he doesn't want to come back to me, I could cut my wrists a hundred times and he still wouldn't turn back."

"I know him too well. He's always been like this since he was little. He has to get what he wants, and no one can give him what he doesn't want. I used to think I was what he wanted, but then I realized I wasn't, and now I'm even less so."

As she spoke, her voice grew calmer and calmer, "So I won't bother you anymore."

Yun Muqian looked at Zhou Xue; this was clearly not the situation she wanted to see, but she didn't rush to do anything. She simply asked, "What did the doctor say about the injury on your wrist?"

"No major injuries, just a few stitches, it'll heal in a few months," Zhou Xue sighed softly. "A scar is inevitable, but I don't care. It's fine with it; it'll remind me not to do anything so stupid again."

At this moment, Yun Muqian smiled gently: "Is that so? Then, do I need to pass on the gift Qin Qihan gave you?"

She picked up the dark blue velvet bag she had brought, the opening loosely tied with a light gold ribbon. Zhou Xue looked at it for a few seconds, then raised her eyes to look at Yun Muqian, a hint of confusion in her gaze: "What is it?"

Yun Muqian reached out and took the paper bag, untied the ribbon, and took out a palm-sized music box.

"Qin Qihan asked me to bring this to you," she said.

Qin Qihan certainly didn't, but Yun Muqian still hoped to use Zhou Xue's feelings to bring her down. It wouldn't be good if she woke up too quickly.

Anyway, Zhou Xue can't contact Qin Qihan now, so she can say whatever she wants.

Zhou Xue really liked music boxes and had bought many during high school. Yun Muqian remembered this, so she said, "He knew you liked music boxes, so he specially went to Japan to buy them."

"No way..." Zhou Xue's voice was lower than before, "Since he remembers my preferences, why did he delete me on WeChat? I tried to message him several times, but it wouldn't go through."

She spoke softly, trying to maintain a casual demeanor, but the knuckles of her fingers gripping the music box turned slightly white, revealing a subtle tension.

Yun Muqian leaned back in her chair, tilted her head slightly, her expression still gentle and natural. "Don't you understand him yet?"

She spoke:

"He's proud. He deleted you because he felt guilty and didn't know how to face you. He saw your messages, but he didn't know how to reply, so he simply stopped you from sending them. He thought this would help you gradually forget him."

Zhou Xue looked at Yun Muqian, and the thin layer of wariness in her eyes was slowly melting away. She lowered her head, looked at the music box in her palm, and gently touched the cherry blossom pattern on the lid with her fingers.

"Then why didn't he come to me himself?" she asked.

"He was embarrassed," she continued, picking up where Zhou Xue left off. "You did so much for him, yet he acted willfully back then. You should know his character very well."

Zhou Xue remained silent for a long time, then...really?

Yun Muqian reached out and gently patted the back of her uninjured hand. "Really, otherwise why would I have made a special trip?"

So keep doing stupid things, it would be best if you jumped off the top floor again, or it wouldn't matter if you watched the Zhou family mansion collapse.

But then, as Zhou Xue gazed at the frankness and openness in her eyes, she suddenly felt that this look was somewhat familiar. She felt that somewhere, with someone, she always had this look in their eyes—

On a long, long afternoon, in a dimly lit classroom, the person she had cornered looked up at her with the same open and unwavering gaze.