Chapter 23

The second was on a rainy night.

He sent a long message about passing the supermarket we used to visit. He remembered how I always bought the same yogurt. He had stood at the display for ages before realizing, bitterly, that he no longer knew what I liked now.

He said I used to tell him every little thing about my life. Later, I told him less and less. At the time, he had only enjoyed the peace and quiet. Only after I left did he understand how long ago he had lost the chance to know me.

He asked:

*“Wangshu, if I really change, could we ever have another chance?”*

I didn’t answer immediately.

The next morning, I wrote:

*“Shiye, I hope you learn to love someone fully. I hope she loves you sincerely too. But that person will never be me again.”*

He stopped contacting me.

His silence didn’t leave me empty or hurt.

Once you made a choice, you had to live with its consequences. Not wanting to let go couldn’t take anyone back to the past.

—

### 20

Three months later.

Zhixia invited me to a friend’s wedding.

I was revising a manuscript at the office when the invitation arrived. On the phone, she asked carefully:

“If you don’t want to go, I’ll make an excuse.”

I laughed.

“Why wouldn’t I go?”

“Aren’t you afraid…” She swallowed the rest.

“It’s all right.”

I opened the invitation and looked at the couple’s names and the date.

“I’ll come.”

On the day, I wore a pale blue dress. Nothing elaborate, just light makeup.

Zhixia raised her eyebrows when she saw me.

“Look at you. Beautiful today.”

“Thank you kindly.”

“Are you really okay?”

I gave her a look.

“Ask once more, Jiang Zhixia, and I’m eating your cake.”

At last, she laughed.

The wedding was in an ordinary hotel ballroom, without extravagant decorations.

As the bride entered, she stepped on her long train. The groom hurried to catch her.

They looked at each other and burst into smiles. The guests laughed too.

The host asked whether they would face life’s hardships together.

The bride answered earnestly. The groom was so nervous his voice shook.

Sitting among the guests, I found myself smiling with them.

I remembered Cheng’an’s words again.

A wedding lasted one day. Married life held so many more.

And I remembered Shiye holding my hand four years ago, saying he wanted to build a home with me.

The memories hadn’t vanished.

I could simply look back on them peacefully now.

Cheng’an’s inability to marry me no longer meant I had lost happiness forever.

My canceled wedding with Shiye no longer made me question whether I deserved love.

Afterward, Zhixia pulled me over for dessert.

“Wangshu, do you still want to get married someday?”

I thought seriously.

“I don’t know.”

She blinked.

“What sort of answer is that?”