I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

She returned quickly.

It was already evening when she got home. The motion-activated light in the hallway kept turning on and off, and she fumbled in her bag for a while before finally finding her keys. The moment she inserted the key into the lock, she heard a sound from inside, like someone getting up from the sofa and walking hurriedly towards the door.

When she pushed open the door, she almost bumped into someone's chest.

Qin Qihan stood inside the door, wearing a black turtleneck sweater with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms. The weariness between his brows and eyes was so intense that it couldn't be concealed. But the moment she stood in the doorway, the tense expression on his face, which seemed to have been tense for a whole week, suddenly relaxed.

Without saying a word, he reached out and pulled her inside. She stumbled slightly, and he pulled her into his arms. His arms were wrapped tightly around her back, so tightly that it hurt a little.

"Where did you go?" His voice was muffled in her hair. "I called you so many times."

Yun Muqian buried her face in his chest: "Let's go out for a walk to clear our heads, don't worry."

"Why didn't you answer the phone?" he asked. There was no blame in his tone, only a sense of unease.

"My phone's off." She looked up at him, smiled, her eyes crinkling, "I just want some peace and quiet."

Qin Qihan looked at her for a few seconds, then gently pulled her towards him, lowered his head, and placed a very light kiss on her forehead.

"It's good that you're back."

Yun Muqian leaned against him, listening to the heartbeat in his chest gradually return to normal from rapid to steady. This man had been sitting here waiting for her ever since she disappeared, and she was certain that he truly loved her.

However, she really shows no signs of settling down at the moment.

Zhou Xue's side kept attacking her, which was like a wealthy heiress tearing into an ordinary person, but it didn't stop her from getting attention. She quickly received an invitation to a talk show.

When the script was placed in front of her, Yun Muqian was leaning back in the dressing room chair while the makeup artist did her eyebrows. She glanced at the program name on the script cover—"She Says," the highest-rated in-depth interview program for women in China, known for its host's sharp yet empathetic approach.

"This show used to feature award-winning actresses, successful businesswomen, and academics. You're the first ordinary person to appear on the show as a figure at the center of public attention. They say this episode's ratings are expected to be phenomenal."

Yun Muqian hummed in agreement, closed her eyes, and let the makeup artist lengthen her eyebrows, her lips curving into a smile.

On the day of the recording, she wore a white dress with a square neckline, a fitted waist, and a hem that fell two inches above her knees—simple and clean.

Her hair was styled in large waves and loosely draped over her shoulders. She wore a pair of small pearl earrings, making her look gentle and elegant.

As she was led by staff up the steps of the studio, there was a slight commotion in the audience. Several rows of people whispered among themselves, their eyes scanning her from head to toe.

She walked to the sofa without changing her expression, sat down, and shook hands with the host.

The host was a woman in her early forties with short hair and thin-rimmed glasses. She had a few fine lines around her eyes when she smiled, and she looked very approachable.

"Ms. Yun," the host began, exchanging a few pleasantries before calmly getting to the point:

"There's been a lot of discussion about you lately, with all sorts of conflicting opinions online. Some say you're a homewrecker, some say you're a victim, and others say you're scheming. Now that you're here, I'd like to ask you to tell the audience yourself, who are you?"

Yun Muqian looked at the camera and smiled.

"Who am I?" she said. "It took me many years to find the answer to that question. I thought for a long time about how to answer it today, and then I thought, why not start from the beginning?"

She recounted her past, but of course, she held back and didn't reveal everything. What everyone saw was an inspiring girl.

It was almost 10 p.m. when the recording ended.

When she pushed open the glass door, a cold wind rushed in, and she shrank her neck. Then she saw Qin Qihan standing under the street lamp.

He changed into a dark gray cashmere coat, and his hand, which had been behind his back, emerged to reveal a large bouquet of roses wrapped in light gray paper.

She walked up to him, looked up at him, and asked, "What brings you here?"

"I've come to pick you up from get off work," he said, then handed her the large bouquet of flowers, the wrapping paper rustling softly.

Yun Muqian took the bouquet and lowered her head to smell it. The fragrance of white roses was faint and sweet, mixed with the dry coolness of the autumn night breeze. She held the large bouquet, her entire face surrounded by flowers, only her curved eyes were visible.

She rested at home for the next few days, and Qin Qihan would come over every day after work.

One evening, after she finished showering, her hair was still wet. She wrapped herself in a bathrobe and went to the living room to dry her hair. Qin Qihan was sitting on the sofa with an open tablet computer in front of him. The screen was lit, but his gaze was not on the screen. Instead, it was on a small velvet box on the coffee table.

Yun Muqian paused for a moment while drying her hair.

The box was dark blue, square, and its edges were illuminated by the light to reveal a soft, matte finish.

She recognized the box; it was the kind used to store rings in high-end jewelry stores.

She walked over and sat down next to him. A drop of water from her hair landed on the back of his hand, and he stirred, as if just coming to his senses. He turned to look at her, his gaze sweeping from the ends of her wet hair to her bare ankles, and finally settling on her face.

Then he picked up the box and opened it.

There was a ring lying inside.

A large diamond is set in a platinum base.

He looked at her, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, and a rare hint of tension could be seen on his face.

"I'm not thinking about getting married right now. You know, I still have a lot of things to do."

Qin Qihan gripped the box, his knuckles tightening slightly, then he looked up. "Alright, I'll wait."

"We'll talk about it when you're ready to get married,"

As long as the person belongs to him, that's fine.

She reached out and wrapped her arms around his waist from the side. Qin Qihan paused for a moment, then pulled her close, letting her snuggle into his embrace.

"Qin Qihan, why do you want to marry me?"

"Why do you think that is?" he countered.

Yun Muqian tilted her head. "I asked you because I didn't know."

Her tone was deliberately unreasonable, and the corners of her mouth were curved in a smile, clearly teasing him, "You have to have a reason, right? It can't just be because I'm pretty, can it?"

"You are good-looking," he said, "but I don't like that you're good-looking."

Yun Muqian chuckled. Qin Qihan looked down at her laughing, his lips unconsciously curving into a smile, but he still said:

"What are you laughing at? I'm serious."

"Then tell me." She lifted her head from her embrace, her smile still lingering, her eyes sparkling. "What do you want from me? Just tell me."

"I don't want anything."

"I won't wear that ring yet," she said softly, "but I can keep it for now."

"Keep it for now." He slipped the ring onto her finger. "Let me know when you're ready to get married."

"Then you'll just have to wait," she said, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she looked up at him. "It might take a long time."

"The thing I have plenty of is time."