Qiu Yingying is reborn and bound to a learning system.

Qiu Yingying has been very tired lately. Product selection, crisis management, public relations, clarification, apology, rights protection... her nerves are stretched to the limit, and she doesn't even have the strength to lift her eyes right now.

She didn't even bother to glance at Xu Qin, just like Xu Qin had treated her before. She simply gave a faint "hmm" in a hoarse and tired voice, and walked straight into the police station's duty room without pausing. She was indifferent and distant throughout, as if what the other person said was just an unimportant piece of nonsense.

Xu Qin was so choked by this complete disregard that her face darkened and her nails dug deep into her palms.

After completing the registration procedures, Qiu Yingying was taken to the mediation room.

As soon as she entered, she saw Meng Yanchen and Song Yan.

Meng Yanchen had a cut on the corner of his mouth, his cheek was slightly swollen, and his shirt collar was messily torn open. His usual refined and neat appearance was completely gone, and there was still lingering anger and panic in his eyes.

Not far away, Song Yan looked even more disheveled, with a band-aid on his forehead and his collar crumpled up. His gaze toward Meng Yanchen still held a sharp, confrontational intensity.

Qiu Yingying stood at the door, her heart suddenly clenching.

The Meng Yanchen she knew would never resort to violence, never lose control, and certainly would never put himself in such a sorry state.

But the man before me still had a fierce aura, his eyes were tense, and he was clearly really angry.

Her voice was so soft it was almost ethereal, and exhaustion overshadowed all other emotions:

Why are you fighting?

The moment Meng Yanchen saw her, most of the fierceness in his eyes vanished, leaving only panic and heartache.

He knew better than anyone that she had just weathered a public relations crisis and should have been resting, but instead she had to rush here for him late at night.

He didn't fight for Xu Qin at all. It was because Song Yan not only belittled Xu Qin, but also targeted Qiu Yingying, publicly mocking her for relying on the Meng family to support her live-streaming sales, saying that she was opportunistic and that she and Meng Yanchen were parasites.

Those foul words touched his sore spot, which he couldn't tolerate. He could tolerate others talking about him, but he absolutely could not tolerate anyone slandering Qiu Yingying.

That was the person he cherished most in his heart, someone he would protect with all his might.

But when he saw her pale face and bloodshot eyes, he swallowed the words back down.

He didn't want her to get involved with these rotten people and things anymore, didn't want her to be upset by these foul words, and even less did he want her to know that he lost control and ended up in the police station because of a single sentence.

He could only swallow hard, his eyes stinging, and mumble:

"...A personal conflict, a misunderstanding."

Qiu Yingying felt a sudden sinking feeling in her heart when she saw his evasive gaze.

She automatically interpreted it as another answer.

It turns out, it really was because of Xu Qin.

No wonder he struggled so much for Xu Qin before, no wonder he lost his composure whenever he was involved with someone from the past, no wonder he stammered when he tried to explain.

It turns out that in his heart, Xu Qin and the love that may have existed in the past were ultimately more important than anything else.

A profound sense of exhaustion and disappointment overwhelmed her. She no longer had the strength to ask questions, nor did she want to argue, explain, or resolve these tangled messes of problems.

She was tired, really too tired.

She didn't say anything more, but quietly signed all the forms, completed the formalities, turned around and walked out, her voice as calm as a stagnant pool:

"Let's go home."

There was no blame, no questioning, no emotion.

There is only one kind of indifference: exhaustion to the extreme, and giving up on further investigation.

As Meng Yanchen watched her slender yet resolute back, his heart felt as if it were being squeezed tightly, a dull ache gripping his chest.

He could tell that she had misunderstood, that she was upset, and that she was too tired to hear any more explanations.

He opened his mouth, wanting to tell her the truth, wanting to tell her that he did it for her, but Qiu Yingying didn't give him any chance, her steps didn't falter at all.

He could only hurry to catch up, his heart heavy with guilt and love, with nowhere to put it.

His feelings for Qiu Yingying were always deep and unwavering; he was earnest in wanting a peaceful life and protecting her for the rest of his life. But the invisible shackles, the rotten people and things, and the uncontrollable impulse ultimately pushed her away.

The car drove in silence all the way back to the apartment building.

Qiu Yingying parked the car, unbuckled her seatbelt, and without saying a word, got out of the car and walked straight to the stairwell. She just wanted to get home immediately, fall asleep, and shut out all the unpleasant things that had happened that day and night.

Meng Yanchen stood there, watching her disappear into the stairwell, his hands clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white.

He knew that her not making a fuss or crying was what made him most uneasy.

But at this moment, he was even prevented from having the courage to chase after her and explain, all because of her exhaustion.

The motion-activated lights in the hallway turned on one by one and off with her footsteps, illuminating her thin figure and revealing her exhaustion.

Meng Yanchen stood there, watching her disappear into the stairwell. He clenched his hands so tightly that his knuckles turned white and his palms were deeply marked by his fingernails, but he felt no pain whatsoever.

He knew that the fact that she didn't make a fuss, didn't cry, and didn't throw a tantrum was what made him most uneasy.

True disappointment is never about making a scene, but about silence, indifference, and the exhaustion of not even bothering to argue.

He wanted to catch up with her, to stop her, to tell her the whole truth, to hug her, and to apologize. But looking at her utterly exhausted state, at her resolute back, all his movements froze on the spot.

He feared that his explanation would only make her more exhausted; that his approach would only make her more resentful; and that any action he took at that moment would become a burden for her.

He could only stand there, letting the panic and guilt in his heart continue to spread, watching helplessly as the door closed gently where he couldn't see it, completely cutting off their presence.

The neighborhood was unusually quiet late at night, with only the rustling of leaves in the wind. Meng Yanchen stood alone downstairs for a very long time.

He raised his hand and gently touched the wound at the corner of his mouth. The pain was clear, but compared to the pain in his heart, it was nothing.

He lost control while trying to protect her, but in the end, he caused her the deepest grievance. This was probably the most absurd and powerless thing in the world.

He didn't know how to make amends, how to explain, or how to make her understand that all his impulses and loss of control were because of her.

All he knew was that this time, he had deeply hurt the person he cared about most.

When Qiu Yingying got home, she didn't even turn on the lights. She went straight to the bed in the dark and collapsed heavily onto it.

The soft mattress did not make her feel relaxed at all; instead, the fatigue from the past few days completely overwhelmed her.

She closed her eyes, not wanting to cry, not wanting to make a scene, not wanting to think about anything, but her mind kept replaying Meng Yanchen's evasive gaze in the mediation room, Xu Qin's cold provocation, and the unfamiliar ferocity and dishevelment on his face.

She always thought that Meng Yanchen was different, that he was clear-headed, and that he knew his limits.

She thought he had already moved on from the shadows of the past and had already focused his attention on the present, on her.

But now she realizes that some deeply rooted past experiences cannot be let go of so easily; some obsessions etched into her bones cannot be shaken off so easily.

She didn't want to blame him or resent him; she was just too tired.

I'm too tired to deal with other people's past anymore.

Her consciousness gradually faded, and she soon fell into a deep sleep. However, her brows remained tightly furrowed, and a hot tear uncontrollably welled up from the corner of her eye, slowly sliding down her cheek and silently soaking the pillowcase.