Chapter 57 Part 1

The phone’s ringtone in the living room jolted Xiao Luyan awake. She crumpled a few sheets of paper into a ball but didn’t throw them away.

She stepped out of the study to answer the call. “Mom.”

As soon as she spoke, Xiao Luyan realized her voice was hoarse and her mood low.

Wu Wanqian had been a bit anxious at first, but she paused upon hearing that voice.

“Couldn’t find it?” she guessed. If it wasn’t frustration from searching, Xiao Luyan wouldn’t have changed so drastically.

Xiao Luyan replied calmly, “Found it. I’ll be down right away.”

She hung up quickly afterward, not giving Wu Wanqian another chance to notice anything amiss. Time was tight, and she didn’t have much to adjust, so she tilted her head back and took several deep breaths in a row.

When she looked up, she unexpectedly saw that the area around the ceiling light was covered in little stars. They weren’t noticeable when the light was off; you had to stand right there to appreciate the special touch.

She thought this was probably what Lu Yuezhi had called “decorating” recently. She had said the house lacked any sense of life, so it needed some proper setup.

Her slightly upturned lips straightened abruptly after the paper ball dug into her hand. Xiao Luyan suppressed the anger that had risen in the study and headed out with the signed documents.

Wu Wanqian got out of the car, took the files, and checked them over once, confirming everything was in order.

Seeing her daughter who had just returned from the business trip, she gave her an extra look.

“Not adjusting to Milan? Your face looks terrible.”

Xiao Luyan kept her expression unchanged. “Tired from the flight.”

Wu Wanqian felt it was different from her usual returns from trips, but with Xiao Luyan’s clear reluctance to talk, she didn’t bother pushing. Before leaving, she added a reminder: “There’s heavy rain tonight. Unless it’s something important, don’t go out. Rest well at home.”

Xiao Luyan had no plans to go out anyway and didn’t take the words as concern. She nodded expressionlessly to show she understood and watched Wu Wanqian leave.

Wu Wanqian hadn’t been wrong; her face really was awful. If she hadn’t restrained herself so fiercely, it would have been even more frightening.

As soon as she got home, Xiao Luyan’s phone rang again. Lu Yuezhi’s callback arrived belatedly.

The business trip hadn’t been long—about eight and a half days in total. But their contact frequency had dropped sharply in the last few days, and the vibe on the phone felt strangely distant.

When Xiao Luyan had first messaged asking if she could enter the study, Lu Yuezhi had been receiving people from the Cultural Heritage Bureau. She was explaining her creative ideas and future plans at the time, so she couldn’t check her phone.

After the most critical part ended, she had her staff handle the rest and quickly called back during a break.

“Did you get the files?” She was afraid the important matter had been delayed and asked that first.

Xiao Luyan’s tone was indifferent. “Already signed and handed to Mom.”

“That’s good.” Lu Yuezhi was about to relax when she suddenly tensed up, wondering if Xiao Luyan had seen those few pages drying nearby.

That night, she had been too late to save them; the top few pages were soaked badly, and she didn’t dare peel them off right away for fear of tearing them. Once they were half-dry, she hung them up—a habit related to how she dried her photos.

“That…” She wasn’t sure if she should bring it up. What if Xiao Luyan hadn’t seen them? Mentioning it would just create trouble out of nothing.

Xiao Luyan remained indifferent. “They say there’s heavy rain tonight. If nothing particularly important, come back early.”

Lu Yuezhi remembered the weather forecast mentioning it, but she hadn’t expected Xiao Luyan to bring it up proactively like concern.

“Okay, I’ll hurry home.” She still got excited instinctively, especially after hearing Xiao Luyan’s concern.

After the call ended, Xiao Luyan set down her phone, her gaze refocusing on the crumpled-then-smoothed-out paper ball.

Every line was filled with observations, speculations, musings, and analyses about her—as if determined to figure her out completely. The shadows from her memories surged forth, tormenting her.

Xiao Luyan could no longer hold back like last time. This was no longer mere suspicion; the black-and-white evidence lay right before her eyes. Lu Yuezhi’s diary surely had more than just these pages—she knew without looking how detailed and meticulous it would be.

She felt like a newborn stripped bare of all cover, nowhere to hide, no privacy left. And this was all her own fault—for letting Lu Yuezhi into her life, for giving her so many close-up opportunities to observe, for occasionally letting her guard down and allowing all that to be recorded.

She hated her careless, foolish self! Xiao Luyan couldn’t understand why she kept making the same mistake!

Back then, she had been the one willing to write the diary; she had been the one to put her secrets on paper. Le Yu had been the one to give her the diary notebook, and Le Yu had been the one to try threatening her with those paper secrets.

The fragments that escaped this time were far more numerous than last, nearly crushing Xiao Luyan’s shell. Her waist buckled slightly, her expression wretched, her stress response growing stronger.

With no heart for a shower or tidying up, she simply sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the blurry words, feeling the pain in her heart over and over.

After hanging up with Xiao Luyan, Lu Yuezhi was eager to get home. But the people from the Cultural Heritage Bureau had an endless stream of questions, one after another, making her wonder at one point if they had already selected the results.

Jian Xiyun had casually mentioned before that the Cultural Heritage Bureau had two fairly large exhibitions planned for year-end and early next spring, and they were selecting suitable photographers—urging her not to miss the chance to shine.

That was why she had proactively submitted some works, hoping for a shot at making the shortlist. Logically, they should still be in the submission collection phase; it shouldn’t be time for on-site inspections yet.

But Lu Yuezhi didn’t dare slack off. She didn’t want to half-ass any details about her career. Xiao Luyan’s attitude toward work had, to some extent, motivated her too. It was an inner drive; she wanted to keep pace with Xiao Luyan.

After patiently answering all the questions and attaching some new works, Lu Yuezhi only got a simple “We’ll be in touch.”

She saw off the Cultural Heritage Bureau people, quickly packed up, and rushed home. With heavy rain coming that night, she urged the others to head back too.

The studio wasn’t officially open yet; no need to stay until the last minute. She didn’t want her staff thinking the boss was heartless.

All the way home, she thought only of getting back quickly because she missed Xiao Luyan so much. But as she neared the door, Lu Yuezhi slowed down.

She hadn’t forgotten how awful that night had felt. She worried even more that if Xiao Luyan saw those diary pages, she might misunderstand. She needed to figure out how to explain.

But no amount of thinking could stop her from heading home. The desire to see that person overrode all her worries. Lu Yuezhi opened the door and called out before even stepping inside.

“Luyan?”

No response.

She poked her head in and glanced around, spotting the figure on the living room sofa. Her first reaction was to smile.

She quickly changed her shoes and walked into the living room. “Why aren’t you answering me?”

Her smile lingered, but Xiao Luyan’s somber expression quickly silenced her.

A bad premonition stirred in her heart. Before she could think further, she followed Xiao Luyan’s gaze to the items on the coffee table.

No need to guess anymore—the answer was obvious.

Xiao Luyan had seen them, and she was very unhappy!

The dried pages happened to be from that night when she had been most confused and low, with the preceding pages full of her anxious ramblings from that uncertain period. Le Yu’s name was inevitably mixed in.

Even the usually straightforward Lu Yuezhi panicked at that moment, feeling the misunderstanding was a bit complicated.

As she weighed how best to explain, the person with the gloomy face suddenly looked up, her deep gaze landing on Lu Yuezhi’s face.

So cold!

Lu Yuezhi shrank back, as if plunged into an ice cellar.

“Why stop talking?” Xiao Luyan’s voice was dark and husky, her tone full of accusation.

Sharp and piercing.

Just that one sentence made Lu Yuezhi feel the gulf between them.

Wider than that previous invisible boundary—a distance she couldn’t cross. Panic rose in her heart, that feeling of not being able to hold on, of losing her at any moment, surging back and disrupting her composure.

“I…” Her eyes darted between the papers and Xiao Luyan, but the words came out haltingly.

Xiao Luyan had been sitting with her arms crossed, a defensive posture. Seeing Lu Yuezhi’s panicked look, she slowly unfolded them.

She leaned forward and snatched up the wrinkled sheets. “What is this? Do I need to remind you?”

Lu Yuezhi’s brows furrowed as she stared at her.

A mocking curve touched Xiao Luyan’s lips, cold and cutting. “Is this how you’ve been studying me these days?”

“It’s not studying…” Lu Yuezhi instinctively tried to explain.

“Then what is it?” Xiao Luyan snorted coldly. “A record? Treating me like an experimental specimen to satisfy your voyeuristic and controlling urges?”

The expression, the tone, the words—all too hurtful! Unlike anything Xiao Luyan had ever said before. Lu Yuezhi’s heart ached; she couldn’t bear being misunderstood like this!

The grievances from these days piled onto her current panic and tension, and she couldn’t hold back anymore.

“I’ve never wanted to pry into you or control you. I just wanted to understand you more, to know you better.”

Lu Yuezhi paused, took a deep breath, and poured out her heart. “But you never give me the chance. You won’t talk about your past, or what exactly happened with Le Yu, or if you have any bias toward photographers. I know nothing about any of it!”

Xiao Luyan’s cold gaze flickered slightly; she clearly hadn’t expected this reaction from Lu Yuezhi.

The shadows of the past had stimulated her too deeply. She had completely overlooked the affection woven between the lines, seeing only surveillance and scrutiny. Plus Le Yu’s words in Milan had inevitably stirred up the memories she deliberately avoided.

“If I know it, do I have to tell you?” Xiao Luyan’s self-protective instincts surged, her words careless. “What are you to me? Why should I tell you every little detail? You said you wouldn’t force me, and I believed you. Is this your idea of not forcing?”

Under her barrage of questions, Lu Yuezhi’s eyes reddened.

She choked up but didn’t back down. “But you promised to give me a chance to try. It’s not even been two years yet. How can you just write me off without a word!”

Xiao Luyan froze.

“I like you. I’m afraid of missing out on you, so I cherish every minute and second of these two years. But you give me no chance—you say nothing, let me ask nothing. Can’t I at least write down my own unanswered questions about you in secret?”

Lu Yuezhi didn’t understand what Xiao Luyan was avoiding, but she wanted to be honest about her feelings.

Xiao Luyan’s emotions had taken on a radical edge. At a time like this, nothing Lu Yuezhi said would matter. During the wait for her to come home, the only thing on Xiao Luyan’s mind was to show her the consequences!

Xiao Luyan slowly stood, picked up the sheets of paper, and walked over to Lu Yuezhi.

She looked at her coldly. “You can write in secret, but too bad you didn’t hide it well.”

With force in her hands, she tore the papers in half. Overlapped them, tore again—into halves once more.