It was all her fault...
She flung the shredded flyer into the air.
Suddenly, her aunt came clattering down the stairs, stepped right on the pile of shredded paper, grabbed Chang Xuyu's hand, and said, "Xuyu, come with Aunt. I'll pay for you to learn."
Chang Xuyu was stunned, looking at her aunt who was covered in jewelry. She shook her head violently.
"No... I can't trouble you. I, I don't want to learn anymore."
With that, she lowered her head, not daring to see her aunt's expression.
But her aunt just said calmly, "Xuyu, I'm only giving you this one chance."
Her heart skipped a beat at those words.
Suddenly, a furious shout came from upstairs: "Ungrateful child! If you leave with her, don't ever come back!"
The old stairwell smelled of lime and dust. The wall paint was peeling from moisture. Behind closed doors, the residents of this building listened, maybe to the drama.
Since childhood, there had been more than enough of this kind of "drama."
Chang Xuyu closed her eyes.
The past flashed before her like a revolving lantern. Countless moments in her mind slowly magnified and spiraled.
She had tried to follow her mother's example, striving to be a qualified daughter, without complaint, no matter what.
"Family"—something built by blood, unbreakable, the light people see in desperate times. She had once craved it so much, only to find it incredibly difficult. No matter how she reached out, she couldn't grasp it, like elusive wind and rain.
She couldn't obtain it. She worried about losing it, yet was often driven by it, doing things that made her unhappy or forced.
She was really unhappy. Sometimes, for no reason, she wanted to cry. Sitting on a small stool, watching the sunset—transient beauty that slowly faded with the arrival of night.
Maybe some things were never meant for her to pursue or possess.
After a long while, she spoke: "Aunt, I'll go with you."
The person upstairs let out a disbelieving snort, then slammed the door shut.
It was always like this. All the grievances and anger could be vented without regard for Chang Xuyu's feelings.
She hadn't cared before, but now she suddenly understood.
She had never been cared about at all.
Sitting in her aunt's sports car, Chang Xuyu bit her nails, silent.
After a while, she whispered, "Aunt, I'm sorry."
"Just think of it as me being sulky with Mom. I'll leave on my own in a couple of days..."
The woman gripped the steering wheel, glanced at her twice, and laughed. "Xuyu, do you like painting?"
Chang Xuyu slowly nodded.
Hearing this, the woman pulled over to the side of the road.
"That's good," she paused. "People have to fight for their dreams at least once."
"Xuyu, remember: don't always make yourself unhappy just to accommodate others."
She knew this gentle, mild-tempered little girl had swallowed many grievances for the sake of her family.
Chang Xuyu was stunned.
"It'll be the same when you encounter love later on."
She reached out and ruffled Chang Xuyu's soft hair.
*
Chang Xuyu remembered those words for eight years.
Although her personality remained much the same, when faced with certain things, she no longer cowered as she once had.
When Yi Zhuo questioned her in bed, she felt uncomfortable and simply remained silent.
Yi Zhuo's expression was as cold as the biting wind on a snowy peak, relentlessly enveloping the woman before him who wanted to divorce him.
He didn't know when she had started to become so indifferent.
He remembered that when she was little, she was just a simple, silly girl.
Maybe it was the old saying: a girl changes eighteen times before reaching womanhood.
Chang Xuyu turned her head away, no longer looking at him. She didn't utter a single word.
She bit her lower lip tightly, a pale neck showing faint veins, exposed to the man's view.
The night was like water. Light silver frost seeped through the gauze curtain, falling on both of them. In the bedroom, only the sound of each other's breathing could be heard.
Suddenly—
Yi Zhuo realized: hidden deep in her eyes was a faint trace of tears.
His heart was struck by an inch-by-inch pain.
That trace of tears was like a boning knife; every joint in his body couldn't escape.