Chapter Sixty-Three: The Betrayer

After much deliberation, Xiao Bao finally couldn’t hold it in any longer and told her that Lin Shuo had left—he had gone all the way to America. The day he came to handle his withdrawal from school, many people witnessed him driving away in a luxury car at lightning speed. So he was a rich heir, always had been.

She couldn’t understand why he had hidden his identity, why he had made himself live so hard. The Lin Shuo she thought she knew so well suddenly became a completely unimaginable stranger, two utterly different people before and after, sharing only the same name. Only then did she realize how little she’d truly known him. Now she was painfully aware of how much she resembled a clown, with everyone hiding in the shadows, watching her misery as though it were farce. In their imagined tribunal, they hurled stones at her again and again, then burst out laughing at her battered, bleeding head. She could not refute them, nor could she defend herself, because no one was willing to believe her—not even Lin Shuo, who was convinced she was a traitor.

But what was her crime?

All voices echoed the same charge: greed.

She spent a long time confessing in her father’s hospital room. When she came out again, the innocent and lively Ni Xiaoxiao was left forever in her memory.

“Falsely accused, abandoned, despised—I’ve thought about giving up, but I don’t even have the right to do so. I’m so tired… truly exhausted…” After being strong for so long, her weakness erupted with a force more fearsome than any strength. She said, “If I lose my job today, the hospital will stop my father’s medication tomorrow. If I sell myself for work, I’ll be tormented by my conscience every moment after. I thought I was ready to become a machine, numb and unfeeling, but my heart is still beating—once, twice, each beat so strong, as if it’s telling me I must live on, and keep my father alive too!”

Hearing this, Xi Mintang was overwhelmed by feelings he couldn’t describe. The image of Ni Xiaoxiao in his mind suddenly became three-dimensional; she was not as strong or cheerful as he had imagined, and even those qualities were the result of great effort. She too had resentment, anger, and bitterness. He tried to get close to her—he was, after all, a normal man, and with a woman weeping so heartbreakingly beside him, he couldn’t help but feel compassion and the urge to comfort her. But his hand, rising behind her, fell again; he could not bring himself to take advantage of her vulnerability.

The advantage of the golden palace’s rear mountain was its seclusion—there was nothing but the sound of birds and cicadas, no passing headlights to disturb her mood. After saying all this, she no longer wanted to cry. She got into the car herself. Her swollen eyes made blinking difficult, so she forced herself to blink a few times, as if that would put the past behind her. Smiling, she said, “It’s still early. You’ve been in Kunming so long and I haven’t had the chance to show you around. Why don’t we start tonight?”

Faced with her sudden change of mood, Xi Mintang’s heart ached for her all the more, but he still said nothing, his deep eyes brightening with a smile. “Alright.”

The night in Kundu was another world entirely—joys and sorrows, triumphs and defeats, all transformed here into waves of music and heavy intoxication. Men and women danced close together on the floor; perhaps after dawn they would crawl out of a stranger’s bed, forever to be strangers again.

Xiaoxiao pulled Xi Mintang along as she swayed, but dancing had never been her talent. After a few awkward moves, she nearly twisted her ankle in her high heels. Xi Mintang gently steadied her; she struggled a little, then gave up.

At the loneliest hour, one should not speak of love.

Chapter Sixty-three: The Traitor – End of Update!