novelraw Chapter 178 Fulfilling Commitments
Chapter 178 Fulfilling Commitments
Gu Yanshen was able to play his part perfectly.
Although Li Fengche's live stream was cut off, he didn't know if there were other cameras or other eyes watching. He couldn't let anyone know who his weakness was. He couldn't let anyone know that every word, every expression, and every choice he made was for her safety.
Gu Yanshen helped Song Zhihe to her feet and placed her hand on his arm. He glanced down at her, his gaze carrying just the right amount of concern and tenderness. Not too much, not too little, just enough for anyone who saw it to believe—he cared about her.
Behind them, the sound of Li Fengche being dragged away gradually faded into the distance. The emergency lights shone in the empty hall, illuminating everything in a stark white light.
After settling Song Zhihe in, he immediately returned to his car and took out his phone.
The call was connected.
"slowly?"
There was a few seconds of silence on the other end. Then Lin Chen's voice came through, deep and heavy, as if he were suppressing something.
"She's home." He paused, "but..."
"Is she angry?" Gu Yanshen's voice was a little tense.
"It's not anger." Lin Chen sighed, the sigh lingering so long that Gu Yanshen felt his heart being gripped tightly. "It's that I'm heartbroken. Just like three years ago, I haven't said a word."
Gu Yanshen leaned against the car back. The car was very quiet, so quiet that he could hear his own breathing, heavy and labored, one breath at a time.
Should he explain to her?
Tell her—those words were said to Li Fengche, those actions were performed for the camera, that choice was fake, it was fake from beginning to end.
He couldn't tell her because he didn't know how many eyes were watching, whether Li Fengche had any accomplices, or whether the person hiding in the Gu family would see all of this through some channel.
He could only make her misunderstand. Perhaps if she was heartbroken, she could return to Switzerland and live a good life like she did three years ago.
He closed his eyes.
"I understand." His voice was very soft, as if he were talking to himself.
The call ended. He heard the faint sound of police sirens in the distance.
He straightened his cuffs, opened the car door, and got out. Each step was steady, as if nothing had happened.
Lin Chen watched Lu Xiran pack her luggage.
She didn't cry, nor did she say a word. She just squatted beside the suitcase, slowly putting the folded sweaters inside one by one, her movements slow, as if performing some kind of ritual, or as if she wasn't thinking about anything at all. Her face was expressionless, her eyes were dry, her lips were pressed into a thin line, and even her breathing was steady, unlike someone who had just been heartbroken.
"Ranran, let's go get something to eat?" Lin Chen stood at the bedroom door, his voice very soft, as if afraid of disturbing something.
"Okay." She stood up, followed him to the dining table, sat down, picked up her bowl, and began to eat, bite by bite. She chewed the rice for a long time before swallowing. She didn't know what she was eating, or whether she was full; she just mechanically repeated the chewing motion, like a machine following instructions.
Lin Chen looked at her, wanting to say something, but swallowed it back.
The clock on the wall pointed to a little past ten. She put down her chopsticks and looked up. "Uncle, I have to go." She paused, as if choosing her words carefully, but finally said—"We agreed that I would leave after he had a good night's sleep."
Lin Chen was stunned. He thought she would hate him, that she would ignore him. Or at least, she would cry, question him—why didn't you choose her? Why did you push her away again and again? But she said nothing.
The moment the door opened, Gu Yanshen was sitting in front of the island counter, having been there for who knows how long, as if waiting for someone who would never come.
Hearing the sound, he suddenly looked up.
She stood in the entryway, bending down to change her shoes. Her movements were so natural, as if nothing had happened. His heart felt like it had been struck hard. He hadn't expected her to come. He thought she hated him, thought she would never appear behind that door again. But she came.
He opened his mouth, as if to say something. But his throat seemed to be blocked, and he couldn't utter a single word.
"I promised you." Her voice was cold, as if she were speaking to a stranger. "I promised to wait until you've had a good sleep before going back to Switzerland. I can't break my promise."
Gu Yanshen remained silent. He sat there, his fingers resting on his knees, the fingertips slightly curled. He wanted to say sorry, to say it was all a lie, to say he hadn't chosen anyone else. But the words stuck in his throat, like shards of glass, impossible to utter or swallow. He could only look at her.
She always made him feel ashamed. Even when she was heartbroken, he was still the first person she thought of.
Lu Xiran heated up milk for her as if it were a routine. Then she made him some water, without glancing at him once throughout the whole process.
After soaking his feet, he lay down on the bed. She sat on the edge, her fingers running through his hair to his temples, where she gently pressed. The pressure was the same, the spot the same. But those eyes, which used to secretly glance at him while massaging him, would curve into crescents, unable to hide their smiles. Now, those eyes held nothing.
He closed his eyes, but still couldn't fall asleep. His mind was filled with her words, "I can't break my promise."
She pressed for a long time, so long that her fingers began to tremble, so long that he finally couldn't help but grab her wrist.
"It's okay." His voice was terribly hoarse. "I'll go to sleep by myself later. Are your hands tired?"
She shook her head. She didn't speak, or even look at him. She simply put his hand back where it was and continued massaging. From his head to his shoulders, from his shoulders to his arms, from his arms to his hands. It was as if she was arguing with herself, as if by not stopping she could prove she didn't care, could prove she was truly just fulfilling a promise.
He looked at her downcast eyes, her tightly pursed lips, and her slightly trembling fingers. His heart felt like it was being ripped out piece by piece.
"Actually, you don't need a massage anymore." He spoke slowly, his voice so low it seemed to roll from the depths of his chest. "I can fall asleep just by holding you."
She paused. Just for a moment, so fast it was almost imperceptible. Then she stood up, went to the bathroom to change into her pajamas, came out, lay down, and turned her back to him. She curled herself into a small ball, pulled the blanket up to her chin, closed her eyes, and remained motionless.
He looked at her slender back, her stiff spine, and the small section of her pale ankle peeking out from under the covers. He reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist from behind. His palms rested on her lower abdomen, and he could feel her breathing—shallow and rapid, as if she were holding back something. He didn't tighten his grip, just held her like that, as if afraid that any force would break her.
It was late at night. Neither of them moved or spoke.
He didn't know if she was asleep. All he knew was that he dared not let go.