By the time the story ended, Su Yang had run out of patience with Ren Sijia.
She didn’t even glance at Xu Lize. Wordlessly, she stood and started for the door.
Seeing her make a show of disdain as she turned away, Ren Sijia spat with a cold smile toward her retreating back. “Su Yang, don’t act like you’re above me. I’ll admit—what I did back then wasn’t exactly honorable. But I loved Xu Lize. My love for him was greater than yours. Can you honestly say you loved him more than I did?”
Her anger flared; she stood up altogether, as if daring the world to care.
To Ren, the truth of those old events was out in the open now. She couldn’t use moral leverage on Xu Lize anymore, so she might as well throw a fit in front of Su Yang—what did she have to lose?
Su Yang turned and looked at her once, wearing an expression of wounded pity. “Miss Ren, first you should understand why I’m here today. I didn’t come to make trouble—I came to find out what actually happened back then. I saved someone and you got everything handed to you for free. Don’t I have a right to know the truth?”
She glanced at Xu Lize, fighting back a surge of contempt for him, then continued. “This has nothing to do with who loves him more. If you love him, fine—that’s your choice. But love should be honest. It shouldn’t be built on stealing what belongs to someone else.”
Ren Sijia opened her mouth to argue, but Su Yang didn’t give her the chance. She pushed on, words flat and steady. “And I’m not acting like I’m better than you. Miss Ren, don’t overestimate yourself. Considering what happened with my mother, you don’t even have the right to look down on me. The mess between you and Xu Lize is yours—let it stay that way. As for me: if I’m still at Yongxu and you’re still at Aihui, Aihui can forget about booking concert halls in any first-tier city. Call it using my position to my advantage if you like. Try having your boss negotiate with other companies all you want—but as long as Yongxu holds any sway in concert venues, I will make sure that as concertmaster you never set foot on stage.”
“Su Yang!” Ren Sijia’s jaw clenched; she lunged forward, hand going for Su Yang’s face.
Xu Lize was faster. He seized her wrist with a hard grip.
“Think about the consequences before you act, Ren Sijia,” he said, his voice low.
At once she froze—then sagged as if the air had been let out of her. Her body went slack.
Su Yang shot Xu Lize a look and, imitating the cadence with which he’d just spoken her name, said it herself. “Ren Sijia…” She watched the woman. “It’s such a pity. When I first wrote your name down, I thought you’d be a tough, likable, confident woman…”
On tiptoe, Su Yang slipped past them and out of the private room before Xu Lize or Ren could stop her.
She liked things neat. Their chapter was done; now it was time for Xu Lize to finish his with Ren Sijia.
Outside the tatami-style room a narrow corridor led to a small tea room by the windows—like a smoking area, only quieter. Tables and chairs were tucked behind folding screens. Su Yang sat by the window and turned her face toward the night.
Below, the entrance courtyard stretched away in slabs of stone flanked by clear reflecting pools. The moon hung thin and pale in the sky. At the end of the path stood another low, understated building—white walls, gray tiles—sensible, unpretentious.
She waited with a patience that felt like ritual, watching the light shift and tremble outside—a heartbeat that made her chest twist.
Behind her, in the private room, Ren Sijia sat trembling, waiting for Xu Lize to deliver his final verdict.
“Tell your father this,” Xu said blandly, his voice flat and ruthless. “Mingkai will terminate all orders with the Ren family after the New Year. If you don’t explain this to him now, he can expect my call once the holidays are over.”
“Xu Lize, after all these years, don’t you see how hard I’ve tried? I worked to stand beside you, to make myself worthy of you. Why—why can a plain, ordinary Su Yang be the one to catch your attention? What does she have that I don’t?” She wept until her voice broke.
Xu Lize listened like a man watching a play he thought tedious. “Maybe,” he said, “if you hadn’t pretended to have saved me back then, would I have ever tolerated you doing all those embarrassing, unbecoming things by my side?” He brushed his sleeve and toyed with an old silver cufflink, lifting an eyebrow. “But now even that excuse is gone.”
Ren’s hands flew to her face. She shook, finally unable to pull a sound from her throat.
Xu Lize, displeased at this spectacle, rose and looked down at her with cold clarity. “When the New Year passes, Mingkai will end all business with the Ren family. If you don’t clear this up with your father now, I will call him myself afterward.”
“You can’t do that,” she stammered, scrambling to her feet. “I’m me. The Ren family is the Ren family. You can’t punish my family for my mistakes—that’s not fair!”
Xu turned his head and smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. It was a small, sharp thing that cut. “Unfair?” he repeated. Then the smile dropped and what filled his gaze was a glacial stillness. “Sijia, you really don’t have the right to say that word to me. If you hadn’t staged that whole performance, the Ren family would’ve been finished years ago. Do you think they lasted this long by luck? They only survived because of me. And now you stand here and complain about fairness? What—do you want me to make your father bankrupt overnight so you can learn exactly what happens when you cross me?”
Her body stiffened where she stood. Blood felt like ice in her veins; the warm room seemed suddenly like a winter gust.
All these years, her greatest fear was that Xu Lize would learn the truth about her “rescue.” She knew his nature—strict, princely, merciless about debts and favors. Now that the truth had surfaced, the secret scaffold that supported her hopes collapsed into dust. Her decade-long, silent love turned into a mirage that vanished the moment she reached for it.
Tears turned to laughter, sudden and ragged. She laughed until the sound curdled.
After all these years of circling and struggling, she had gone around in a loop only to end up back where she started: with nothing at all.