I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

Yun Muqian walked out of the ward and had just closed the door when she turned around and almost bumped into someone.

She took a half step back and looked up to see Zhou Yao standing in the corridor, as if he had just come from the elevator and hadn't had time to enter the ward yet.

He was thinner than when we last met, with a layer of bluish stubble on his chin and a faint redness around his eyes, as if he hadn't slept well.

He was also taken aback, clearly not expecting to run into her in the hallway. "You've come to see my sister?"

His voice was a little hoarse, much deeper than usual. Yun Muqian nodded: "Yes, I came and sat for a while."

Zhou Yao looked at her, his gaze lingering on her face for a moment, as if to confirm whether she was alright, or perhaps simply to take a few more glances at her.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, then swallowed it back. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke again, his voice softer than before, carrying a hint of hesitation and probing: "How...have you been lately?"

Yun Muqian smiled slightly: "It's fine. How about you?"

"Me?" He gave a slight smirk. "I'm fine."

He was simply depressed for a while after being rejected by her.

He looked down at the thermos in his hand, as if remembering why he had come here. "She hasn't been eating much these past few days. My mom made some soup at home and asked me to bring it over, but someone has to keep an eye on her."

Yun Muqian listened quietly without responding.

After Zhou Yao finished speaking, he was quiet for a while, as if waiting for her to say something. Occasionally, nurses would push trolleys through the corridor, but she would just smile and nod, intending to pass by him.

He suddenly spoke up: "Thank you for visiting her so often."

He said in a low voice, "I know many people avoid us after they find out what happened to our family. It's good that you came."

"It's nothing," she said, "just a small favor."

Zhou Yao stood there, showing no intention of moving aside, looking down at the tips of his shoes. Then he looked up, his eyes even redder than before.

Do you have time tonight?

His voice held a hint of hesitation, as if afraid of rejection, "Let's have dinner together. I'd like to... talk to you."

Perhaps afraid she would refuse, he added, "Just grab something to eat, it won't take long."

When he looked at her, there was something in his eyes that she had never seen in him before. It wasn't the kind of spoiled, fearless arrogance, but a softer, almost cautious, expectation.

It seemed Zhou Yao was still persistent in his pursuit of her. Yun Muqian felt that getting closer to the Zhou family would help lower their guard, so she said, "Okay."

Zhou Yao's eyes lit up, but he quickly lowered his head to hide his expression, switched the insulated bag to his other hand, and said with an barely suppressed lightness in his voice, "So what do you want to eat? I'll make a reservation."

"Whatever, you choose."

"Then... shall we go to that little stir-fry restaurant I told you about last time?"

She agreed.

At seven o'clock in the evening, Zhou Yao arrived early at the small stir-fry restaurant hidden in the ground floor shops of an old residential building. He sat in a seat near the back, with a pot of tea already brewed in front of him.

He sat up straight when he saw Yun Muqian walk in. Yun Muqian sat down opposite him, glanced at the pot of tea on the table, which was still steaming, as if he had specially brewed it in advance.

"Have you ordered?" she asked.

"No, we'll wait for you to order." He pushed the menu towards us. "I remember you said you liked spicy food last time, but this place makes delicious non-spicy dishes too."

The dishes arrived quickly, steaming hot, with that familiar, homey, and comforting aroma.

"Um."

Zhou Yao's fingers slowly rubbed against the edge of the table, as if he wanted to say something but couldn't bring himself to say it.

"My brother-in-law... no, Qin Qihan, he was truly determined that day. I'm not trying to defend him, I just suddenly realized that if someone's heart changes, there's no way to keep them. Like my sister, she was so good to Qin Qihan, completely devoted, but he didn't even glance at her."

Yun Muqian picked up a piece of food with her chopsticks and put it in her bowl, sensing that there was a hidden meaning in his words.

Zhou Yao lowered his head, "Sometimes I think, what if one day you stop talking to me too—"

He stopped halfway through his sentence, as if the words he had spoken were too heavy, and he hadn't yet figured out how to finish them.

Yun Muqian looked at him, a slight smile curving her lips: "Your sister is still in the hospital. What are you thinking about?"

Zhou Yao simply said earnestly, "I like you, and I won't hide that from you."

She suddenly remembered an afternoon many years ago, when she was in her second year of high school, in late autumn. The sycamore leaves behind the teaching building were scattered all over the ground, rustling underfoot.

She was walking back to the classroom from the playground with her head down, carrying a stack of homework she had just collected, ready to take it to the office.

As she reached the corner, a basketball came hurtling towards her, hitting her squarely in the shoulder. She staggered back two steps, her notebooks scattered on the ground, and her knee hit the concrete. Through the thin fabric of her school trousers, she could feel the skin on her knee swelling rapidly.

She looked up and saw Zhou Yao standing a few steps away.

He tilted his head to look at her, the basketball spinning on his fingertips, a familiar, fearless smile playing on his lips.

A few boys were standing nearby; one whistled, and another laughed so hard he bent over.

"Sorry, you ugly thing," he said, without a trace of apology in his voice. "My hand slipped."

She bent down and began picking up the notebooks on the ground, piling them up one by one. A few pages were blown by the wind to the edge of the flower bed, and she crawled over to pick them up, her knee wound aching.

She didn't look up, didn't look at him, and didn't say anything.

She knew that saying anything would be useless; speaking would only bring more ridicule. Silence was the only way for her to minimize the harm she would suffer.

But her silence didn't bore Zhou Yao. He walked over, squatted down, picked up the last notebook from the ground, and handed it to her.

She reached out to take it, but he didn't let go.

She looked up at him, and he was looking down at her, his beautiful face full of excitement, a smile still playing on his lips, as if he had just discovered something interesting and was planning to play a little longer.

"You want it?"

She didn't say anything.

He tore her notebook to shreds and, for the next year or so, repeatedly reminded her in various ways that he could embarrass her at any time.

Later, she saw him smile at others, gentle and kind, with the air of a young master from a prominent family.

He was always filled with malice towards her, but not towards her.

At this moment, Yun Muqian withdrew her gaze, placed her chopsticks on the rim of her bowl, and said, "Zhou Yao."

"Hmm?" He looked up.

"You said you like me," she said, "What do you think you like about me?"

Zhou Yao paused for a moment, as if he didn't know how to answer the question. He didn't know what she wanted to hear, and he was afraid that he would upset her if he said the wrong thing.

He sat up straight, thought for a moment, and then said very seriously, "I like your ambition, your focus when you work, your never-timidity in those situations, your knowledge of what you want, and your ability to accomplish many things. And—"

He paused again, "You're very kind to come see my sister. We're not actually that close, but you were willing to come."

Yun Muqian looked down at the bowl in front of her. The steam on the rim of the bowl was slowly fading. She suddenly said, "I used to do that too."

"What is it like?"

"Ambitious, hardworking, and knowing what you want." She looked up at him, her gaze calm. "I was like that back then. It's just that some people don't think it's a good thing."

Zhou Yao looked at her, as if he didn't understand what she was saying.

Yun Muqian chuckled softly: "So I think you might not like this type."

"How could that be?" he said. "I truly love you."

Yun Muqian placed her chopsticks back on the rim of her bowl: "Not necessarily. I don't believe it anyway."

Zhou Yao sat opposite her, as if caught off guard by her calmness. He didn't know how to respond, but he knew that if he let those words fall to the ground like that, he might never have the chance to pick them up again.

"Why are you so sure?" he asked, his voice a little louder than before, sounding more like confusion than an interrogation.

"Did I do something in the past that made you think I'm not trustworthy?"

Yun Muqian didn't say anything, picked up her coat from the back of the chair, and stood up: "Let's go, it's getting late."

Zhou Yao also stood up, his movements somewhat hurried, almost knocking over the cup on the table.

"I'll take you home."

The more Yun Muqian pushed him away, the more he wanted to understand what went wrong.