I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

Zhou Xue miscalculated.

She thought that if she apologized and softened her stance, Qin Qihan would soften his heart, but she didn't expect him to still be so ruthless.

When I got home, I had to turn the key several times before I could open the lock.

Her hands were trembling, so much so that the key went around in the lock several times before finally getting in. The moment the door opened, the entryway light automatically turned on, casting a warm yellow glow on her. Without changing her shoes, she walked straight in, still in her high heels.

The living room was quiet. The TV was off, and there was a plate of untouched fruit on the coffee table, still wrapped in plastic wrap.

The maid peeked out from the kitchen, noticed her pale face, and cautiously asked, "Miss Zhou is back. Would you like something to eat?"

Zhou Xue ignored her, walked straight to the middle of the living room, and looked around.

The fruit bowl on the coffee table, the cushions on the sofa, the family photo on the TV cabinet, and the bouquet of lilies on the dining table—all these are normal, quiet traces of life.

But as she stood in the middle, she felt that everything was mocking her.

She overturned the fruit plate on the coffee table, the plastic plate crashed onto the marble floor, fruit rolled all over the floor, and oranges rolled under the sofa. The maid was so startled that she took a step back.

Zhou Xue walked to the dining table again, grabbed the bottle of lilies, and smashed it against the wall.

The glass bottle shattered, water splashed on the wall, and flowers, along with their broken stems, were scattered all over the floor, a few petals clinging to the wall. She stood there, panting, her shoulders heaving, her eyes red-rimmed.

"Miss Zhou..." the maid's voice trembled, "What...what's wrong..."

"Get out!" Zhou Xue turned and yelled at her, her voice shrill and distorted. "All of you, get out! Get out!"

The maid retreated timidly to the kitchen doorway, unsure whether to leave or not. Zhou Xue grabbed a cushion from the sofa and threw it, but it missed and bounced off the kitchen door frame.

The maid quickly hid in the kitchen and closed the door.

Zhou Xue stood alone in the living room, surrounded by a mess. She looked down at her hand; a shard of glass had cut the back of her finger when she smashed the vase, leaving a thin cut that was bleeding. It wasn't deep, but it hurt a lot.

Looking at the opening, she suddenly remembered many things.

Thinking of Qin Qihan standing under the streetlight tonight, the wind blowing the hem of his coat, as he stood there listening to her finish speaking, she felt so great, so gentle, and so good at letting go.

But he didn't care at all.

Zhou Xue raised her hand to wipe her face, only to find that her face was covered in tears. She didn't know when she had started crying, and her whole face was soaked.

She walked over to the sofa and sat down amidst the mess on the floor, her hands resting on her knees, tears streaming down her face and splashing onto the back of her hands.

Why?

What did she do wrong?

She apologized, she said sorry, she humbled herself so much, she had never done that to anyone in all these years.

She wanted to win him back; she wanted him to soften even a little bit, to waver even slightly.

But he didn't. When he looked at her, his eyes were empty, as if he were looking at someone he had no connection with anymore.

He should have married her, so why was he so heartless?

"ah--"

Zhou Yao was wearing pajamas, his hair was a little messy, as if he had been woken up.

He stood at the corner of the stairs and looked down, seeing the floor covered with shards, fruit, water stains, and flower petals, and his sister huddled in the corner of the sofa, shivering.

"Sis." He got down, walked around the broken glass on the floor, and went to the sofa. "What's wrong?"

Zhou Xue didn't look up: "Never mind that."

"How could I not care?" Zhou Yao sat down beside her, reaching out to touch her shoulder. "Tell me, what happened?"

Zhou Xue suddenly raised her head, her face streaked with tears, her eyes frighteningly red. She looked at Zhou Yao, her lips trembling a few times, then her voice burst out in a broken, strained tone:

"I went to see Qin Qihan tonight. I apologized to him. I told him I was wrong before, I said I wouldn't bother him anymore, I wished him happiness—I did all that, so why is he still the same! He looks at me like I'm a stranger!"

Zhou Yao paused for a moment, his lips moved as if he were processing this information.

"I don't understand," Zhou Xue's tears welled up again, "We grew up together, how could he not feel anything at all? That night under the streetlights I talked to him so much, I told him everything about how much I've liked him since I was little, and he was still unmoved."

"Sister," Zhou Yao interrupted her, his voice very soft, "when you go to see him tonight, are you genuinely apologizing, or are you just trying to soften his heart?"

Zhou Xue was stunned.

She opened her mouth as if to deny it, but the words got stuck in her throat and wouldn't come out.

Zhou Yao looked at her, his eyes filled with a complex mix of emotions, a mixture of sadness and disappointment.

"Every time you do this, you feel that you've given so much and deserve a reward, but sister, people aren't obligated to do that."

Zhou Xue glared at him, tears still streaming down her face, her expression shifting from despair to disbelief. "You're taking his side? Zhou Yao, I'm your sister."

"I know you're my sister," Zhou Yao said, "but it's precisely because you're my sister that I'm telling you the truth."

It was only after witnessing how Zhou Xue had previously doubted Yun Muqian that he began to examine everything.

Zhou Xue suddenly raised her hand and slapped him on the shoulder, her voice filled with a powerless anger. "Shut up."

"I won't shut up," Zhou Yao said. "You let me finish. You said you pushed him away. But have you ever considered that he left you for more than just those reasons?"

"Then what else could it be?"

"Because he doesn't love you. Just admit it, he simply doesn't love you."

Zhou Xue turned her face to the side, her shoulders shaking violently, and finally couldn't help but cry out.

He didn't leave. He squatted down beside her, placed his hand on her back, and gently patted it. "Sister, let go."

"I can't let go—" she cried, her voice slurred, "I've wanted to be with him since I was little, I'd give him anything, why can't he see that—"

"He saw it," Zhou Yao said. "So he left."

"You're young, good-looking, and from a good family. You'll meet someone who truly loves you in the future."

Zhou Xue cried herself to sleep, her voice gradually fading until only occasional sobs remained. She buried her face in a cushion, and after a long silence, finally managed to say, "Go away. I don't want to see you."

She truly couldn't understand why her once wonderful life had undergone such a drastic change.