Gong Rui reached out instinctively, as if his hand could still catch hold of something real, something familiar—but there was nothing there anymore.
By the time he truly came back to his senses, Lin Che had already walked far ahead. All that remained within his sight was her retreating back, slender and rigid, her steps unsteady yet determined, as though she were forcing herself not to collapse right there.
He took one step forward.
Just one.
And then he stopped.
A sharp, inexplicable sensation crawled up his spine, the unmistakable feeling of being watched. Gong Rui frowned slightly and turned around.
Standing a short distance away was Ming Mimi.
She hadn't made a sound. She simply stood there, her posture straight, her hands clasped lightly in front of her, the glow of the corridor lights casting a pale sheen across her face. There was unmistakable shock in her eyes—as if she had arrived just in time to witness something she had never expected to see. And yet, beneath that shock, there was a strange calmness, a restraint that felt almost deliberate.
It unsettled him.
For a fleeting moment, Gong Rui wondered how much she had seen… and how much she had understood.
But he was far too exhausted—emotionally, mentally—to care.
The hollowness spreading through his chest was growing heavier by the second, turning into a dull ache that refused to be ignored. Whatever he had just lost was no longer abstract. It was painfully real.
Ming Mimi broke the silence first.
"We should go back to the party," she said softly. "Everyone is waiting for a toast."
Her voice was gentle, reasonable, perfectly suited to the role she now occupied.
Gong Rui knew he had no way of refusing.
Not now.
Not tonight.
Not with so many eyes watching, so many expectations pressing down on him.
He cast one last look in the direction Lin Che had disappeared, then nodded stiffly and followed Ming Mimi back toward the brightly lit hall—toward the celebration that felt more like a funeral to him.
Lin Che's vision was blurred.
Tears kept slipping down no matter how hard she tried to stop them, turning the world into a smear of lights and shadows. She lifted a hand to wipe her face, but it only made things worse, her breathing turning shallow and uneven.
In all her life, she had never imagined she would hear those words come from Gong Rui's mouth.
Never.
He had always been gentle—so careful with his words, so thoughtful about the future. He was clever, perceptive, someone who weighed consequences long before making a choice. That was precisely why tonight hurt so much.
Because if he said those things… it meant he meant them.
It meant that some part of him had already accepted this life—this luxurious cage his mother had prepared for him. It meant he had chosen it, at least in part, not merely bowed his head under pressure.
And that realization hurt far more than any engagement announcement ever could.
She walked without direction.
The night had already deepened by the time she left the banquet, the vast grounds of the Gong mansion swallowed in darkness. Only small lamps lined the paths, their dim yellow light illuminating patches of stone and grass, leaving the rest hidden in shadow.
Her heels clicked softly against the ground, the sound echoing in the quiet night as she wandered aimlessly, her steps slow, as if every movement required effort.
Just a short while ago, she had thought she still had something.
Now, with each step, it felt like she was losing everything—piece by piece.
She didn't know how long she walked before she noticed it.
An elongated shadow stretched across the path ahead.
Lin Che lifted her head instinctively.
Her breath caught.
Gong Feng.
He stood beneath one of the lamps, tall and unmoving, his figure outlined sharply against the darkness. From where she stood, she could only see his side profile—hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders slightly tense, his gaze fixed on something distant and unseen.
For some reason, the sight startled her so badly that she stopped dead in her tracks.
He looked… lost.
There was a loneliness about him at that moment that she had never seen before. His shadow stretched long and solitary, as if he didn't quite belong to the grandeur of the Gong mansion behind him, yet had nowhere else to go.
The gentle clink of her heels against the stone broke the silence.
Gong Feng turned at once.
The wind stirred softly between them, lifting strands of her hair, brushing cool air against her tear-streaked face. For a fleeting, irrational moment, Gong Feng felt a sharp fear—an almost absurd thought—that if the wind grew stronger, the fragile figure standing before him might simply vanish.
Before he could stop himself, the name slipped from his lips.
"Lin Che."
The way he said it—low, steady, unmistakably her name—cut through the suffocating chaos in her chest. It grounded her, anchoring her to the present.
They stood like that for a long time.
Neither spoke.
The night wrapped around them, the distant sounds of the banquet muffled and unreal, as if belonging to another world entirely.
Finally, Gong Feng broke the silence.
"Come with me."
The words were simple, almost abrupt.
Fear tightened around Lin Che's heart.
At this moment, she was already at odds with the Gong family. And while Gong Feng was different from Second Madam Gong, she knew better than to underestimate him. There was an oppressive edge to him—a kind of authority that made refusal feel dangerous, as though defiance would only invite harsher consequences.
And then there was what had happened between them not long ago.
The memory alone made her fingers curl slightly.
In the end, she didn't resist.
Gong Feng turned and began to walk, his pace unhurried yet decisive. Lin Che followed a step behind, neither too close nor too far.
Strangely, as they moved forward, their shadows overlapped under the lamplight, stretching and merging along the path. There was an unspoken rhythm in their footsteps, a quiet harmony that felt almost out of place given the turmoil in her heart.
For the first time since leaving the banquet, Lin Che felt something shift.
She didn't know where he was taking her.
She didn't know what awaited her next.
But for now, beneath the dim lights and the vast, silent night, she followed him—carrying her heartbreak with her, yet unknowingly stepping toward a turning point that would change everything.