Chapter 66

Inside the ward.

Cai Xinyue hesitated for a long while before explaining helplessly, “I… I didn’t mean to lie to get you here.”

Hua Luoyue stood a short distance away, observing Cai Xinyue. There were small pieces of gauze on Cai’s chin and wrist, all on the same side. At first glance, she looked quite pitiful, but a closer look revealed they were just abrasions.

Lin Weiwei had mentioned a concussion, and it seemed no parents had been notified—likely because Cai Xinyue had stopped them—but this also indicated that her injuries were truly not serious.

Only then did Hua Luoyue feel completely at ease.

She found a place to sit and said, “I know. It was Lin Weiwei acting on her own, wasn’t it?”

Cai Xinyue felt it wasn’t right to speak ill of her roommates, as they were the ones who had accompanied her to the hospital. However, since it was the truth, she could only nod awkwardly and added quickly, “She meant well.”

Hua Luoyue didn’t express any opinion on that, but instead asked her how the car accident happened.

Speaking of this, it was entirely an unprovoked disaster for Cai Xinyue.

At noon, her dorm mates had arranged to go out for a meal and a supermarket ​read the original at bailiantales.com​run. Since the primary goal was to purchase snacks and daily necessities, they went to a nearby mall not far from the school, riding shared bicycles to get there.

The same was true for their return in the afternoon.

While waiting at a red light at an intersection, they encountered a novice driver. The driver turned the steering wheel too far, and in a panic, failed to hit the brakes, crashing straight into the roadside greenery.

Cai Xinyue was the unfortunate one who didn’t manage to dodge in time and was knocked to the ground.

Fortunately, the driver wasn’t irresponsible. Ignoring their own damaged car, they were scared half to death by Cai Xinyue, who had fainted from the fall, and immediately called the police and an ambulance.

Luckily, the car had only struck the outer frame of the bicycle.

The hospital examined Cai Xinyue; most of her injuries were superficial. The most serious were an accidentally sprained ankle and a mild concussion, both caused by falling off the bike—the most tragic part was probably the mangled front wheel of the bicycle.

Cai Xinyue’s injuries didn’t look severe, but considering she mentioned feeling dizzy—and since the brain was involved—the hospital decided to keep her for observation overnight. If there were no issues the next day, she could be discharged.

The two roommates who were with her naturally stayed at the hospital, helping her through all the examinations.

Using this opportunity to call Hua Luoyue over was also Lin Weiwei’s idea. After Cai Xinyue fainted and Lin was preparing to contact her family, she saw Hua Luoyue’s phone number.

Although Cai Xinyue woke up in time and insisted she stolen contentnot call her parents—because they were busy lately and she felt she was fine and didn’t want to disturb them—Lin Weiwei still noted down Hua Luoyue’s number.

Seeing Hua Luoyue, Cai Xinyue couldn’t say she wasn’t surprised and happy at all. But thinking about Lin Weiwei’s lie, she felt restless. After explaining the sequence of events, she couldn’t help but defend Lin Weiwei again: “She probably really thought my injuries were serious.”

“I know…” Hua Luoyue said, “I also happen to think I should have a proper talk with you.”

Cai Xinyue froze.

Hua Luoyue didn’t seem angry about being deceived; or perhaps she had known all along that Lin Weiwei was intentionally scaring her, but made the trip regardless.

Hua Luoyue said, “Last time, I was too hasty and didn’t explain things clearly to you.”

Cai Xinyue slowly lowered her head. Hua Luoyue’s tone was as gentle as ever, but she could hear the meaning behind it—there was no room for maneuver.

“You’re still not going to consider me, are you?” Cai Xinyue asked in a low voice.

“No…” Hua Luoyue answered without hesitation. “But that’s not because I dislike you or because you did anything wrong. It’s because I am not ‘good’; you shouldn’t like me.”

Cai Xinyue couldn’t help but say, “There’s nothing wrong with you.” In her heart, Hua Luoyue was the best.

Hua Luoyue smiled, somewhat helpless.

Cai Xinyue’s direct confession had indeed caught her off guard, so her reaction had been equally extreme. However, she didn’t feel her subsequent resolve was wrong, nor did she regret it in the slightest.

The only thing she hesitated over after much deliberation was the attitude she took in responding.

Cai Xinyue had grown up under the protection of her parents and brother; her family was wealthy and her life had been smooth sailing. Perhaps the biggest setback of her life was Ye Zi’s departure without a word. Although she was an adult, psychologically, she was still far from mature.

With the previous instance of Ye Zi turning and vanishing for no reason, for Hua Luoyue to do it again would undoubtedly be a massive shock to Cai Xinyue. Hua Luoyue felt she should at least provide a reason, rather than just a pale and powerless “I like someone else.”

And that person she liked couldn’t possibly like her back. But the latter never affected Hua Luoyue’s reasons for rejecting Cai Xinyue.

“If I weren’t married and hadn’t registered, perhaps I would try to accept you,” Hua Luoyue said candidly.

Just as the fallout didn’t change Cai Xinyue’s special status to her, even if they had actually dated and then broken up, the logic would be the same. She could harden her heart to discard this friendship, and she wouldn’t be unable to handle a breakup leading to becoming strangers.

But that premise required her to be unmarried, unburdened, and without anyone she liked—walking alongside Cai Xinyue with a light heart.

The reality was not so. She had registered with Yu Zhezhi; she was married. Whether Yu Zhezhi liked her or not was not the root of the problem.

“I cannot proactively bring up a divorce with her,” Hua Luoyue said softly. “I cannot say for sure how long our relationship will last.”

Cai Xinyue said, “I can wait for you. I can wait as long as it takes!”

“Really?” Hua Luoyue asked. “And then?”

Cai Xinyue hesitated a moment and said, “Until you divorce, until you’re willing to like me.”

Hua Luoyue asked, “What if I am never able to like you in my entire life?”

Cai Xinyue said without thinking, “Then I’ll wait a lifetime!”

The problem had circled back to the beginning.

However, during these days of the cold war, Cai Xinyue hadn’t just been angry or sad. Hua Luoyue’s words of rejection echoed in her mind, and she had pondered those questions while tossing and turning at midnight. The answers derived from repeated reflection and deduction gave her more confidence in her reply, because she could be certain it wasn’t a temporary impulse.

Cai Xinyue paused and continued, “Even if you don’t like me, at least once you’re divorced, I will have a fair and legitimate chance to pursue you.”

“I will not fall in love with you,” Hua Luoyue dismissed her hope ruthlessly. She raised a hand to stop Cai Xinyue from speaking and continued on her own.

“If I agreed to you, I would be giving [stolen content]you a hollow, ethereal hope. You would think that perhaps after my divorce, I would respond to you—but I know I won’t.

Of course, thinking more optimistically, perhaps you only developed these feelings out of novelty, and they will eventually fade with the passage of time, allowing us to go back to being friends.”

Cai Xinyue opened her mouth to say, “It’s not out of novelty—”

She was interrupted by Hua Luoyue: “However…”

She glanced at Cai Xinyue and said, “However, if it is real, and the feelings do not fade during the wait, then you will only sink deeper and deeper, stepping into a quagmire.

Right now, you might feel that you are willing to wait. But people’s thoughts change; unexpected events happen. You don’t know how long you’d have to wait for me. One day, two days, even one year, two years—perhaps you can wait. But what if it’s five years?

Ten years? That’s enough time for many people to go from dating to marriage to children to divorce, becoming strangers forever. Perhaps one day, you would regret wasting your most precious youth on me.”

Cai Xinyue retorted defiantly, “How do you know I’ll definitely regret it?”

Hua Luoyue said calmly and gently, “I simply don’t want that to happen.” The best way was naturally to make Cai Xinyue give up on this hopeless emotion now.

Cai Xinyue was left speechless.

Hua Luoyue softened her tone: “Of course, those are only ‘possibilities.’ But a fact that will definitely happen, or has already happened, is that I am married. This isn’t some strictly guarded secret; perhaps tomorrow someone will find out.

Similarly, it’s not guaranteed that no one else knows about your confession to me; perhaps one day it will be publicized by someone with malicious intent.

If these two things are exposed together, how do you think others will see you?”

A lapdog, a rebound, a persistent stalker, a homewrecker intentionally destroying someone else’s family…

In the face of scandalous gossip, not many rational people are willing to investigate the truth. Instead, they will add embellishments—the more scandalous and absurd, the better. Things based on shadows can be spread until they are widely known and the truth is hard to discern, let alone actual leverage and material delivered to them.

To put it more seriously, this would evolve into a matter of moral corruption. Most people won’t look at a result that returns to the right track; they will only fixate on the process of overstepping bounds. Furthermore, the truth of Hua Luoyue and Yu Zhezhi’s marriage was a secret that was likely impossible to reveal voluntarily. Even if it were revealed, not everyone would understand.

Marriage itself implies responsibility.

Cai Xinyue said she could wait for Hua Luoyue, and perhaps she really could restrain herself, but outsiders watching the drama wouldn’t be so considerate of her. Things that didn’t happen could be said to have happened, and a silent, deep affection could be twisted into a low-class conspiracy theory.

Hua Luoyue knew the power of rumors all too well.

Moreover, Cai Xinyue was so young; no one could say for sure if she could truly be content with the loneliness and grievance of waiting silently. The fear was that her character was immature, and she would pursue so-called love on impulse, only to smear an unnecessary stain on her life and regret it too late.

But that wasn’t Cai Xinyue’s fault. She was young, simple, and knew nothing of the sinister hidden rules of society. she couldn’t foresee those deeply buried seeds of disaster, and relied on a surge of passion to dare to think and act without regard for the consequences.

And Hua Luoyue knew all too well the various obstacles on the road of life. She was long past the age of believing that true love can conquer all. Family, friends, future prospects, ability, reputation, and status… between the two matters of surviving and living with dignity, the role love could play compared to the former was far too small. One could even say it was negligible.

Rumors might be trivial compared to other physical or mental suffering, but knowing a friend might step into a puddle and experience some hardship, it was perhaps impossible to stand by and watch. There was never any saying that life should endure hardship; that was merely the helpless self-consolation of those who had experienced setbacks.

If possible, who wouldn’t want a life of peace and smoothness?

Hua Luoyue hoped Cai Xinyue could have that too—she had a bright future ahead of her and couldn’t be ruined because of her. Compared to those negative impacts, it seemed the matter of how much Cai Xinyue liked her became a triviality. It didn’t affect Hua Luoyue’s resolve to reject her, even if it meant drawing a clear line between them.

It was a unilateral “for her own good,” like an arbitrary parent.

Cai Xinyue stood with her mouth open, unable to speak. To her, Hua Luoyue was thinking too much, and too far ahead, magnifying the downsides infinitely as if the world were filled with malice that would only bring terrible results. But she felt it wasn’t that way at all.

Rumors and gossip—she hadn’t known how many she’d heard since childhood, and it hadn’t stopped her from growing up healthy. Moreover, she felt the world still had more good people than bad, and more kindness than malice. Even if she did nothing, those malicious voices would gossip; there was simply no need to care.

So, finally, she said, “I don’t care about those things.”

But Hua Luoyue said, “I do…”