novelraw Chapter 217 You're the One Who Matters
Chapter 217 You're the One Who Matters
Lu Xiran sat on the sofa, holding her phone, watching the trending topics change one after another. #Gu's CEO's Confession Event#, #Only You From Beginning to End#, #100 Million Yuan Confession Prize#, #Gu Yanshen's Wife#. The topics that criticized her were still there, but they had been pushed to the bottom, the popularity gradually receding, like being overwhelmed by a new wave. She looked up at Gu Yanshen sitting opposite her.
"When did you prepare this?"
"From the day you last said you wanted to see the sunset by the lake." His voice was soft, as if he were talking about something ordinary, but there was a light in his eyes, a light that couldn't be hidden. "I've thought for a long time about how to tell you—you are the only person I've ever loved."
Lu Xiran's eyes reddened. Not from feeling wronged, but from that bittersweet feeling of being cherished and pampered.
"She's the only one in my life." Gu Yanshen leaned down and kissed her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin for a moment. "Don't cry. I told myself I'd never let you cry again in this lifetime."
Lu Xiran nestled into his arms, pressing her face against his chest, listening to his strong heartbeat. The sound was steady and deep, like a ship finally reaching shore. "How much did you spend on all these GG signs?" The entire city of Haicheng was covered in GG signs. Giant screens in commercial centers, light boxes at the airport, electronic displays in subway stations, giant screens on the exterior walls of shopping malls—everywhere that could light up, it read, "From beginning to end, it's only you." She dared not imagine how much that must have cost.
"Money isn't important." He looked at her, his gaze deep, so deep it seemed to want to suck her in. "You're the important one."
She threw herself into his arms, burying her face in his chest. He didn't speak, just held her, gently patting her back, again and again, like comforting a wronged child. The sunlight outside the window was bright, falling warmly on the floor. The insults were still there, the malice was still there, the swordplay she didn't want to see but couldn't avoid was still there. But she wasn't afraid.
Because she knew he would stand in front of her.
As soon as Song Zhihe got out of the nanny car, she was surrounded by reporters.
"What exactly is going on between you and President Gu?"
"Are you really the other woman?"
"Did you really post Mrs. Gu's photo?"
"Was it you who interfered in Mr. Gu's marriage three years ago?"
Microphones and cameras surged towards her like a tidal wave, almost shoving into her face. Her agent and bodyguards desperately cleared a path, but there were too many people. Flashes of light came from all directions, along with questioning and glaring eyes that seemed to want to devour her alive. Song Zhihe kept her head down, silent, her steps quickening, but the crowd was like a moving wall; she couldn't get out.
Finally, she had no choice but to retreat to the van. The moment the door closed, the noise outside was shut out, but her heart didn't slow down. She sat in the seat, her chest heaving violently, her fingers gripping the hem of her skirt until her knuckles turned white.
"Let's go." Her voice trembled.
The driver tried to start the car, but it was surrounded by people and couldn't move at all. People were peering through the windows, their flashes through the glass like countless unblinking eyes. Song Zhihe turned her head away, drew the curtains, and shut herself into the darkness.
"Have some water first." The assistant handed over a bottle of water.
Song Zhihe took the bottle, and just as she unscrewed the cap, her hand trembled, and the water spilled out. Looking at the puddle, a sudden surge of anger welled up inside her, and she flung the bottle away. It hit the car door, bounced back, and rolled to her feet.
"I won't drink this!" Her voice became shrill and distorted.
The assistant froze, speechless. The carriage fell silent. So quiet that faint shouts could be heard outside the window—"Song Zhihe! Song Zhihe!" The sounds surged like waves, crashing against the metal of the carriage, making her increasingly agitated. She drew the curtains tighter and shrank into her seat, but the sounds still seeped in, impossible to block out.
She took out her phone and opened Gu Yanbo's chat window. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, typed a few words, then deleted them. She typed again, then deleted again. Her eyes reddened, and her lips trembled. She didn't know what to say. Question him? Blame him? Beg him? She didn't know. She only knew that she was finished. All those years of painstakingly cultivated image, the love of her fans, all those endorsements, scripts, red carpet appearances—all gone.
She finally typed out: "Didn't you say you were confident? Now? I'm stuck on set, unable to go anywhere."
Gu Yanbo glanced at it, his lips twitched slightly, and his fingers slowly typed a few lines on the screen.
I underestimated Gu Yanshen. He made this move faster than I anticipated.
He paused for a moment, then added another point.
However, Song Zhihe, who can you blame?
The last message was like a needle, piercing straight through.
[It's been three years. You've been by his side for three years, and you're not even worth a hair on Lu Xiran's head.]
Song Zhihe threw her phone away. It hit her assistant's shoulder, bounced, and landed on the ground, screen down, a corner shattered. The assistant groaned, clutching her shoulder, but didn't dare cry out, only biting her lip, her eyes reddening.
"What are you yelling about? You're disturbing me." Song Zhihe looked up, her eyes bloodshot, filled with anger and a restless, suffocating anxiety. She looked at her assistant as if she were a punching bag. "Get out of here."
The assistant bent down, picked up the phone, and silently retreated to a corner. She didn't dare to speak or look up; she just clutched the phone with its shattered screen, her knuckles turning white.
She closed her eyes, her mind filled with Gu Yanbo's words: "Three years is still not as valuable as a single hair on Lu Xiran's head."
She can't compare. Of course she can't compare.
But she was not reconciled.
She was unwilling to accept that after spending three years with him, acting for him, and shielding him from harm, she didn't even receive a "thank you," only the words, "You can't compare to her."
She was unwilling to accept that the woman had done nothing, just stood there, smiled, and he had presented her with the whole world.
What should we do now?
She sent it, but it disappeared without a trace. She waited a long time, the screen going dark and then brightening again, then darkening again. There was no reply.
She closed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. Her mind was filled with Lu Xiran's face—not with hatred, but with the image of her sitting quietly beside Gu Yanshen, like a flower protected in a hand. She suddenly remembered many years ago, when she first met Gu Yanshen. He stood alone in a corner of the banquet hall, holding a wine glass, his gaze indifferent, as if through a layer of mist. She walked over and said, "Hello." He glanced at her, just once, then looked away. That glance held no amazement, no curiosity, only a polite, aloof distance. She thought he was just slow to warm up, that as long as she tried hard enough, was patient enough, he would eventually notice her.
My phone vibrated.
Gu Yanbo replied: 【Wait. I have a backup plan.】