Lin Che tried to wrench her hand free, but Gong Rui's grip tightened instead.
"Let go of me," she snapped, her voice already trembling. "Let go of me!"
The pressure around her wrist only increased, his fingers digging in as he pulled her along more forcefully, steering her away from the brightly lit ballroom and into one of the quieter side corridors of the Gong mansion. The music faded behind them, replaced by silence broken only by the echo of hurried footsteps and her uneven breathing.
"Gong Rui!" she yelled, the fury she had been suppressing finally threatening to burst. "Let go of me!"
He didn't answer. He just kept walking, jaw clenched, eyes fixed straight ahead, as if letting go now would cause everything to completely collapse.
Only when they reached a secluded corner—far from guests, servants, and prying eyes—did he finally stop.
Slowly, reluctantly, he released her hand.
Lin Che staggered back a step, her wrist aching. She hugged her arm to herself, staring at him as if he were a stranger.
Gong Rui stepped back as well, running a hand through his hair before letting out a long breath he seemed to have been holding since the announcement earlier that night. When he lifted his head again, the look in his eyes made her chest tighten.
This was the first time he was truly seeing her reaction.
The disbelief.
The hurt.
And beneath it all, the unmistakable betrayal.
It danced so clearly in her eyes that the guilt inside him surged violently, nearly choking him.
"I'm sorry," he said hoarsely.
Lin Che let out a sharp, incredulous laugh.
"Sorry?" she echoed. "Christ—sorry for what?"
Her voice shook despite her efforts to keep it steady.
"I'll ask you one thing," she said, staring straight at him. "How long have you known? When was this decided?"
Gong Rui swallowed.
For once, he didn't try to evade the truth.
"It was… fixed by my mother," he admitted quietly. "Right after I came to the city."
The world seemed to tilt.
Lin Che stared at him as if she hadn't heard correctly.
"After you came to the city?" she repeated slowly.
Her lips parted, then pressed together as the meaning fully sank in.
"So you knew," she said. "You knew all along."
Her chest tightened painfully.
"And yet you let me come here," she continued, her voice rising. "You let me attend this party. You watched me stand there like an idiot, smiling, thinking this was just a welcome celebration. You already knew what was going to be announced tonight."
Her eyes burned.
"Does it make you happy?" she demanded. "Does it make you happy to make a fool out of me like this?"
"That's not—"
"You already knew," she cut him off, her words sharp as knives. "Yet you didn't say a single word to me. Not once. So tell me—what am I to you, Gong Rui? Something you can hide? Something you can drag along until it's convenient to discard?"
A sharp, suffocating pain tore through her chest. She felt like she couldn't breathe, like the air around her had suddenly become unbearably thin.
Gong Rui took a step closer, panic flickering across his face.
"Lin Che, listen to me," he said quickly. "I'm sorry. I really am. I wanted to tell you, but how could I? Do you know how hard this was for me too?"
She stared at him, unmoving.
"You don't have to worry," he continued urgently. "I'll find a way to resolve this. I promise. Once the wedding is done, I'll figure something out. I won't abandon you."
Her mind went blank.
"…Once the wedding is done?" she repeated faintly.
Then realization hit her like a slap.
She looked at him in utter disbelief.
"You want me to be your mistress?" she asked softly.
The word hung in the air, heavy and humiliating.
Gong Rui flinched.
"I don't like calling it that," he said quickly. "That's not what I mean. Lin Che, you know I care about you. This marriage—it's just a formality. A means to an end. Once everything settles down, I'll make sure you're taken care of."
She laughed.
This time, there was no humor in it at all.
"So that's it," she said quietly. "You marry her for money, for power, for your family… and keep me on the side."
She shook her head slowly.
"Do you know how ridiculous you sound?" she asked. "No—do you know how insulting this is?"
Gong Rui reached out instinctively, but she stepped back at once.
"Don't touch me."
Her voice was calm now, frighteningly so.
"You brought me here," she continued, each word deliberate.
"You let me walk into this place not knowing anything. You watched me smile at your mother, endure her looks, stand among strangers who looked down on me. You knew everything, and you still let it happen."
Her eyes glistened.
"You let me believe I still mattered."
"That's not true," he said desperately. "You do matter. Lin Che, you're important to me."
"If I mattered," she shot back, "you would have told me the truth."
She took a shaky breath.
"I followed you here because I trusted you. Because I thought—no, because you made me think—that whatever happened, we would face it together."
Her voice cracked.
"And instead, you let me walk into a room where my place was announced to be nonexistent."
Gong Rui's face twisted with pain.
"I was scared," he admitted. "You don't understand how powerful my mother is. I don't have a choice right now."
"No choice?" Lin Che repeated. "Then what was I?"
Silence.
She laughed bitterly.
"You didn't even think to tell me," she went on. "You didn't think I deserved to know. You let me stand there tonight like a clown, watching you hold another woman's hand."
Her nails dug into her palms.
"Do you know how that felt?"
Gong Rui opened his mouth, then closed it again.
She didn't wait for his answer.
"I spent my entire youth with you," she said. "When you had nothing. When you were nobody. When all you had was me and the village we grew up in."
Her voice dropped.
"And now that you finally have everything, I don't even deserve honesty."
"Lin Che—"
"I don't want to hear it anymore."
Her eyes hardened.
"You can keep your wedding," she said. "You can keep your arrangements, your compromises, your excuses."
She looked at him one last time, her expression drained of warmth.
"But don't insult me by trying to 'accommodate' me."