The memory was crystal clear.
Like yesterday—and yet like a lifetime ago.
So long she could no longer hold on to it.
She even felt like Cheng Zhanya’s care was a luxury now, let alone going to the hospital together.
How had they ended up like this?
Lin Hanbing wondered every single day.
She had overlooked Cheng Zhanya’s feelings time and again, canceling plans for work.
Love was about being there.
Thinking back, how long had it been since their last date? Was Cheng Zhanya bored at home all alone?
She used to share every joy with her in a rush. Now, she barely mentioned anything.
It wasn’t that Cheng Zhanya didn’t want to.
It was that her own responses had been too few and far between—until her wife stopped trying. She had realized it too late.
She had lost the gentleness that used to be hers alone.
Cheng Zhanya was warm and smiling to everyone else—but distant and detached with her.
Cheng Zhanya stayed silent for a long moment, saying nothing.
Then, almost against her will, she nodded.
Only after agreeing did she remember the third person in the room. She glanced sideways at Xiao Xiao.
Xiao Xiao stared at them both in stunned disbelief.
She knew there was no hiding it now.
After all, no ordinary acquaintance would react with that kind of intensity.
Cheng Zhanya sighed inwardly and said softly, “If I’m not back by two, could you cover for me with the director?”
Xiao Xiao nodded like her life depended on it.
In the span of two minutes, she had pieced it together: this was no simple situation.
The way Cheng Zhanya had panicked when Lin Hanbing got burned went way beyond friendship.
They were standing close enough that Xiao Xiao could feel the tension radiating off her firsthand—Cheng Zhanya had gone pale, like she was the one hurt.
And then there was Lin Hanbing’s careful, tentative question about Cheng Zhanya going with her to the hospital.
The looks they exchanged could practically pull like taffy.
Xiao Xiao had never been in a relationship, but she wasn’t naive.
As she reached the door, Cheng Zhanya turned back, her face full of apology. “I’ll explain everything when I get back.”
“Okay!”
Lin Hanbing’s hand was carefully cradled by Cheng Zhanya as they rode the elevator down, neither of them speaking a word.
In the mirrored walls, though, Lin Hanbing caught sight of her wife gazing down at the scalded hand. Cheng Zhanya’s lips were pressed tight, her bangs half-veiling her eyes, and the rims were faintly red.
Cheng Zhanya said nothing, but Lin Hanbing knew those reddened eyes spoke volumes.
Her wife still cared about her.
A satisfied smile tugged at Lin Hanbing’s lips. A little injury didn’t seem so bad after all.
The rush-hour traffic had eased. Lunchtime had passed, and most people were enjoying a leisurely afternoon break. The rain kept falling, growing heavier by the minute.
Cheng Zhanya wasn’t the best driver at the best of times—and now that she was pregnant, she had even less desire to take the wheel of Lin Hanbing’s car. Instead, she quickly flagged down a taxi by the roadside.
She helped Lin Hanbing into the back seat, hesitated for a moment, then slid in beside her and gave the driver the destination.
The cab moved off, inching steadily through the congested streets. The vehicle’s stale odor hit Cheng Zhanya hard; with her pregnancy, a wave of nausea washed over her. She rolled down the window, letting in a rush of cool air that quelled the urge to retch.
A fine mist of rain drifted through the opening, tiny droplets spattering the windowsill in irregular, mottled patterns.
The company was in the city center, just a short ten-minute drive from the main hospital.
By the time they arrived, Lin Hanbing’s delicate skin had reddened further, swelling slightly with two small blisters forming.
Cheng Zhanya handled the registration with practiced ease.
It was just a minor scald, nothing extensive. The doctor applied some ointment and prescribed anti-inflammatory medication.
“Keep it dry as much as possible, and remember to reapply the ointment at home,” Cheng Zhanya said downstairs at the hospital entrance. “It should heal up in a few days.”
She kept her eyes averted from Lin Hanbing, striving to sound casual.
“Okay.”
Lin Hanbing clutched the bag of medicine, pressing her bandaged hand to her stomach with a wince of discomfort.
She still hadn’t eaten lunch.
Neither had Cheng Zhanya. She’d only just opened her lunchbox when Lin Hanbing had appeared—and then came the scalding accident.
It was nearly two o’clock now. Cheng Zhanya was always punctual with her meals, and she must have been starving.
“Yaya, will you have lunch with me?”
Cheng Zhanya glanced at the time—just past two. Getting back to the office on schedule was out of the question.
She was hungry, too.
Her appetite had been poor to begin with, and she’d been so focused on Lin Hanbing’s injury that she’d forgotten all about it until now.
Her gaze dropped to her abdomen, which showed no visible change yet.
“Okay.”
No matter what, she couldn’t let anything harm the baby.
Lin Hanbing was the child’s mother, even if she didn’t know about the pregnancy yet—and even if the baby had no awareness of its own.
Cheng Zhanya had no idea how long she could keep the pregnancy a secret. For now, she just wanted to give the mother and child a little time together. She would deal with the fallout when it inevitably came. Worrying about it now wouldn’t help.
“What do you feel like eating?”
“Anything’s fine.”
Cheng Zhanya studied her for a moment, her voice pausing. “Something light, maybe.”
“Isn’t your stomach bothering you?”
“Have you taken your medicine?”
Cheng Zhanya had held back the entire ride, but she couldn’t stop herself from worrying.
She knew how Lin Hanbing got when she was busy—skipping meals for entire days, pulling all-nighters at work.
They were divorced, but the feelings lingered.
Lin Hanbing had always been so forceful, barging back into her life again and again.
Her heart still fluttered for her.
Even when Lin Hanbing did nothing at all.
If things continued like this, Cheng Zhanya knew she would fall all over again before long.
She didn’t want to keep forcing herself to stay away. Actively avoiding Lin Hanbing hadn’t made her feel any better.
“Not yet.”
Lin Hanbing smiled. “It doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Cheng Zhanya’s concern worked wonders.
She’d only gone to the pantry for hot water to take her medicine—and hadn’t expected to find Cheng Zhanya there.
It was a rare slip-up for her.
Lin Hanbing wouldn’t call herself meticulous to a fault, but she didn’t make basic mistakes like that.
Cheng Zhanya hummed softly. “You…”
“Hm?”
“Nothing.”
Lin Hanbing watched her closely. She knew Cheng Zhanya too well.
With a light chuckle, she guessed her question. “You’re wondering why I suddenly took the job at Anwo?”
“Of course it was for you.”
Lin Hanbing’s voice rang with conviction.
“Yaya, I’ve done a lot of thinking since we separated. I was a bastard—I ignored you far too much.”
“I never imagined we’d end up divorced. I was a failure as a wife, so it’s only natural you couldn’t put up with me anymore.”
A gentle smile played on Lin Hanbing’s lips as she grew serious. “I’m scaling back on work now, putting my focus back on our family.”
“I hope… you’ll give me another chance.”
The rain had stopped.
The streets buzzed with life once more. The roads gleamed wet, and the lawns sparkled with dew, brimming with vitality.
Cheng Zhanya said nothing.
She walked in silence, but her thoughts were a tangled mess. She had no idea how to respond to Lin Hanbing.
Before the divorce, she could go a whole month without seeing her. Now they kept running into each other. Lin Hanbing had openly admitted her reason for joining Anwo and made her intentions crystal clear.
How could her heart not stir?
She knew she was already on the verge of giving in—had been unable to refuse for some time.
But then she thought of Lin Hanbing’s attitude toward children, and it hit her like a bucket of ice water, plunging her hopes into the depths.
Of course. Lin Hanbing didn’t like kids.
And here she was, pregnant.
At the worst possible moment.
Cheng Zhanya asked herself: if she weren’t pregnant, would she take Lin Hanbing back?
The answer was obvious.
She would.
“You don’t have to answer right away,” Lin Hanbing said with a smile. “We have plenty of time.”
Lin Hanbing chose a Hakka restaurant.
Lunch hour had ended, and the place was mostly empty, with just a few scattered tables occupied. Some patrons chatted idly, while others worked on their laptops.
They were seated on the second floor by a window overlooking a busy intersection. Cars streamed through endlessly, the scene unfolding like a painting in slow motion.
Lin Hanbing ordered several of Cheng Zhanya’s favorite dishes.
Since getting pregnant, Cheng Zhanya had grown sensitive to flavors. Under Fan Yaobai’s attentive care, she’d become pickier about food.
Or maybe she was just famished—she ate more than usual, with no trace of nausea.
It was miraculous.
Cheng Zhanya wiped her mouth, staring in surprise at the nearly empty plates.
Had she really eaten all that?
Lin Hanbing, by contrast, felt deeply content.
It had been so long since the divorce that they’d shared a peaceful meal together.
Cheng Zhanya had always harbored resentment toward her. Their encounters weren’t outright hostile, but that cool indifference hurt even more.
It was as if all their love had evaporated like mist.
It was nearing four in the afternoon when Lin Hanbing went to settle the bill.
Glancing at the wife beside her, she felt absolutely no desire to return to work—a thought that was entirely new to her.
It was a complete reversal from her old mindset.
She wanted to take Cheng Zhanya on a proper date.
But she also knew that today’s companionship was nothing more than stolen leisure.
Cheng Zhanya wouldn’t agree to it.
Lin Hanbing understood her all too well: gentle and soft on the surface, but stubbornly unyielding when it mattered.
If she pushed her luck today, it would be that much harder to win her over next time.
She had to know when to stop.
Lin Hanbing thought to herself.
