Meng Ruozhao let out a soft grunt, brushing the matter aside.
Just then, a waiter stepped forward to take their orders.
Du Xixi immediately rattled off several signature dishes with ease, including the pan - fried foie gras that Yan Qiubai favored. She also kindly asked Meng Ruozhao,
"Ruozhao, the seafood soup here is very famous. Do you want to give it a try? I remember you don't like overly greasy food."
She acted as if she knew Meng Ruozhao's preferences like the back of her hand, looking every bit the caring elder sister.
Meng Ruozhao lifted her eyes indifferently.
"Thank you, Sister Xixi. I'll just look for myself."
She declined that "kindness" and directly told the waiter her choices: a light appetizer and main course.
Yan Qiubai watched her order briskly.
That independent demeanor of hers, completely ignoring him, was like a tiny needle that quietly pricked the emotional balloon in his heart that had just started to deflate a bit.
Suddenly, he spoke up. His voice was not loud, but it clearly cut through the background music, carrying a suppressed, almost accusing tone.
"Why?"
Both Meng Ruozhao and Du Xixi turned to look at him.
Du Xixi's surprise was just right, with a hint of confusion in her eyes.
Meng Ruozhao frowned slightly, waiting for him to continue.
Yan Qiubai's Adam's apple bobbed a few times as if he was struggling to organize his words.
He abandoned the high - sounding excuse of "the reputation of a fiancée". His eyes were fixed on Meng Ruozhao, trying to dig out something from her clear but expressionless eyes.
He lowered his voice. Each word seemed to have been rubbed on sandpaper, carrying an imperceptible sense of hurt and stubbornness.
"Why can't you rely on me more? Even just a little bit?"
He paused for a moment, as if weighing for a more accurate word, but what finally came out was a more straightforward and helpless plea.
"Why can't you make me feel that you need me more?"
He yearned to be needed, to be the center of her life, to be actively asked for and approached by her.
But her actions always silently told him:
She didn't need him. She could do well on her own.
This feeling hurt and panicked him far more than seeing her with someone else.
Du Xixi let out a timely soft sigh, with a "understanding" sadness. "Qiubai."
She reached out her hand as if to pat his hand comfortingly, but stopped halfway and gently placed it on the edge of the table instead.
"Don't be like this. Ruozhao has been independent since she was a child. You should know that. It's not that she doesn't rely on you. She's just... used to solving problems on her own. Right, Ruozhao?"
She turned her gaze to Meng Ruozhao again, her eyes full of "tolerance" and "explanation".
It was as if she was apologizing to Yan Qiubai for Meng Ruozhao's "immaturity".
It was also like a reminder to Meng Ruozhao: Look, because you don't rely on and need him enough, he's hurt. Hurry up and comfort him!
But more importantly, it was a display of her closeness to Yan Qiubai in front of Meng Ruozhao.
Meng Ruozhao met Yan Qiubai's gaze.
The emotions surging in his eyes were so complex: hurt, confusion, stubborn expectation, and even a hint of vulnerability she couldn't understand.
The fragrance of tuberose mixed with the unique minty scent on him made her a bit dizzy.
She understood his question and where his anger came from.
They were supposed to be fiancés, but after her car accident, she had forgotten him and couldn't get close to him.
It was indeed her fault, because he was a very good fiancé, but she always felt awkward.
She opened her mouth, wanting to say something.
Was she going to explain that she was indeed wrong?
Or was she going to refute Du Xixi's seemingly kind words that actually painted her as an "immature fiancée"?
Or... should she also ask him what this intimate dinner with Du Xixi after "just finishing a meeting" was all about?
However, at that moment, a blinding lightning bolt suddenly tore through the night sky outside the window.
The thunderclap that followed boomed, making the glass curtain wall of the restaurant buzz.
The heavy rain poured down again in full force. The dense raindrops pounded the French windows crazily, instantly blurring the neon world outside.
The words that hadn't been spoken were drowned out by the suddenly roaring rain between heaven and earth.
A moment later, she composed herself, looked at Yan Qiubai, and said, "I will try to correct my mistakes and will also try to rely on you more."
This statement, which could hardly be called a promise, miraculously covered the magma of disappointment and unwillingness that had just welled up in Yan Qiubai's heart.
She didn't make any excuses, nor did she coldly refuse to respond to his almost pleading "need". This in itself was a subtle signal.
Yan Qiubai stared intently at her, searching her calm profile.
The dense raindrops outside the window exploded and flowed on the glass, blurring the city lights and Du Xixi's face, which seemed to want to say something but held back.
His attention was all on Meng Ruozhao at the moment.
She was also looking at him. There was apology, guilt, and a bit of confusion in her clear eyes.
She wasn't completely indifferent to him.
This realization was like a tiny electric current that suddenly shot through his tense nerve endings.
She wasn't unresponsive. It was just that due to the memory gap after the car accident, she couldn't get close to him naturally.
Out of self - protection, she could only subconsciously wrap herself in distance, carefully avoiding getting hurt.
This thought instantly overwhelmed all the unhappiness.
A secret, indescribable sense of satisfaction quietly replaced the previous pain and panic.
She not only cared but also finally showed a bit of displeasure.
Was it because of his questioning just now?
Or was it because of Du Xixi's presence?
Either way, it proved that she wasn't completely aloof.
She cared.
This pleased Yan Qiubai more than any excuse.
Logically, he should also explain why he was having dinner alone with Du Xixi.
However, his deeply ingrained pride and his habit of being in control of everything.
Prevented him from turning this newly emerging joy and relief into any tender explanation or apology.
Apology? That was for the weak.
He was Yan Qiubai. Why should he explain?
Or rather, more accurately.
Subconsciously, he refused to mention another woman at this moment when Meng Ruozhao finally showed a bit of "care", for fear of ruining this delicate atmosphere.
So, the anger on his face, like a thin layer of ice, quickly melted, replaced by an almost arrogant "magnanimity".
He leaned back slightly, reclining into the chair again, resuming his usual posture of being in control.
His slender fingers tapped gently on the table twice. His voice was not loud, but it was enough to attract everyone's attention.
His eyes casually swept over Meng Ruozhao, with a condescending air of "since you've admitted your mistake, I won't hold it against you".
"Alright."
He spoke, his voice returning to its usual calm, even with a hint of laziness that came from his improved mood.
"Remember to wear the bracelet. It's okay if it gets broken."
He deliberately slowed down his speech. Each word was crystal clear, carrying a taken - for - granted, superior expectation.
"Also, no matter what you do, think of me first. Don't always keep things to yourself."