---
Jing Hua had always prided herself on control.
Her calm. Her coldness.
But the moment her eyes skimmed the documents in front of her, everything shattered.
Photos. Voicemails. Chat logs. Surveillance.
Every page screamed betrayal.
Every word was a knife to the chest.
And at the center of it all—Pei Ming, her so-called best friend… and Xiang Ye, the man she once thought she'd spend forever with.
Her hands trembled violently as she flipped through the evidence. Her lips moved, but no sound came out. The silence was deafening—except for the roar building in her head.
"No… no, this isn't real," she breathed. "This—this is fake. It has to be. You forged this. You're trying to frame them, aren't you?!"
She turned wild eyes toward Qiao Yichen, her voice rising into a scream.
"You did this! You devil! You've always hated them—you planted this! You ruined my family just to tear me away from them!"
Her heart pounded so loudly she could barely hear herself. Rage and disbelief blurred her vision, but she kept yelling, grasping for anything to hold onto—anything that wasn't this truth clawing at her chest.
Qiao Yichen didn't flinch.
Didn't move.
Didn't defend himself.
Only his eyes flickered—just once—with something too fragile to be seen.
"Little Hua—"
"Don't call me that!" she snapped, voice cracking like splintered glass. "You ruined everything! You're a monster. A liar. I hate you!"
And then—
"Enough."
The voice didn't come from Qiao Yichen.
It came from Feng Yuan.
The lawyer who had stood silently for years. The man who'd watched it all from the sidelines. And now—his control was gone.
"Four years," he growled, eyes locked on her. "Four years, you spat in his face. Four years, you blamed him for every drop of your misery. You never once stopped to ask if it was true. You didn't even try to listen. Not to him. Not to your parents. Not to anyone who loved you."
His voice was fire now. Scorching. Unapologetic.
"They tried to warn you. Your father. Your mother. Your brother. Even your housekeeper tried to speak. And you know what you did? You shut them all out. Because it was easier to believe a lie than to admit you were wrong."
Jing Hua stood frozen, her face pale and unreadable—but her hands clenched at her sides.
"You were played," Feng Yuan continued coldly. "Used like a pawn. Those people you protected? They laughed behind your back. While you cried over Xiang Ye, he was in bed with Pei Ming. While you begged them to save your family, they were stabbing you in the back with both hands."
Her mouth opened… but no words came out.
"And that night—the one you never forgave him for?" Feng Yuan's voice dropped, almost a whisper. "You were drugged. So was he. But the difference is… he woke up first. He saw what they were doing to you. And instead of saving himself, he fought them off. He took the hit—so you wouldn't be violated. So you wouldn't break."
He stepped closer now, eyes blazing.
"He came for you when you were kidnapped in Country Z. Flew across the ocean with broken ribs and blood in his lungs. He risked his life for your brother—lost his inheritance just to keep him alive. He was drowning. And still… you pushed him further under."
A long, brutal silence followed.
Feng Yuan exhaled, disgusted. "What more do you need, Jing Hua? A confession carved in blood?"
Qiao Yichen finally stirred.
"That's enough."
His voice wasn't loud—but it silenced the room instantly.
He wasn't angry. He wasn't hurt.
He was… tired.
"I didn't ask you to defend me," he said, eyes distant. "She deserves to know. But not like this."
Feng Yuan stared at him—then laughed bitterly.
"You're still protecting her," he muttered. "Even now."
He grabbed his coat and briefcase. "You're a fool, Yichen. And she—" he turned to her, gaze cutting, "—she never deserved you."
With that, he walked out.
The door slammed behind him.
---
Jing Hua stood motionless, heart thundering in her ears. She looked down at the papers—now scattered across the floor like the ruins of her past.
She could barely breathe.
Tears slipped down her cheeks, uninvited, unstoppable. Her knees weakened, and she sat down hard in the chair like her body couldn't hold her anymore.
Her voice came out barely a whisper.
"…Why didn't anyone tell me?"
Qiao Yichen looked at her for a long moment.
"I did."
The silence returned. But now it was different—sharp, painful, unforgiving.
Jing Hua wrapped her arms around herself, trying to hold in the ache, the shame, the overwhelming guilt blooming in her chest like poison.
> I thought I was broken.
But maybe I just chose to close my eyes.
And the worst part?
I never once asked if he hurt, too.
She had been blind. Willingly blind.
And now, standing in the wreckage of the truth… she realized:
She didn't hate him. She hated herself.
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