Após três anos de casamento, quando Ji Shu encontrou Lu Jinchuan novamente, ela estava sendo cortejada por outro homem. Beicheng era uma cidade enorme, tão grande que, apesar de viverem na mesma cidade, aquele era o primeiro encontro deles em três anos. Ji Shu amou Lu Jinchuan por dez anos, tanto que perdeu a última chance de ver seu pai, tanto que perdeu um filho. Dessa vez, ela não queria mais amar. "Lu Jinchuan, este é o acordo de divórcio que você me deu há três anos. Assine." Todos achavam que Lu Jinchuan não amava Ji Shu, todos esperavam pelo divórcio deles. Mas o senhor Lu demorava a assinar o acordo. Depois, alguém contou a Lu Jinchuan que, no templo Anning, entre as lanternas eternas, uma era para Ji Shu e seu filho. Depois, Lu Jinchuan soube por outros que, por causa dele, Ji Shu perdeu a última oportunidade de ver seu pai. Depois, naquele ano, Beicheng enfrentou a maior tempestade de neve da década. Viram o sentimental jovem mestre Lu, enfrentando vento e neve, escalando passo a passo do sopé até o topo do templo Anning. Ele ajoelhou-se diante da mulher, com os olhos vermelhos, implorando: "Ji Shu, eu te peço, tenha piedade de mim mais uma vez."
When Ji Shu received the confession, Lu Jinchuan was standing nearby.
She had never expected to run into him here; after all, their last encounter had been on their wedding night, three long years ago.
He was the center of attention, surrounded by a crowd like stars orbiting the moon. As they brushed past each other, the hem of his suit jacket lightly grazed the back of her hand—a fleeting touch that vanished in an instant.
The gathering ended as dusk fell. Declining her colleague's polite offer to drive her home, Ji Shu hailed a cab to the Lu family estate. Jingting Garden was North City's most exclusive luxury villa district, a place where land was worth its weight in gold. Only those at the very pinnacle of the city's social pyramid, like the Lu family, could reside there.
Her taxi could only drop her at the gates of the estate, leaving her to walk the rest of the way to the Lu residence. Just as she stepped out of the car, a black Cullinan swept past. She caught the driver glancing in her direction, but his gaze drifted away after only a second or two.
November in North City brought a deep autumn chill, and the evening air was biting. Hunching her shoulders against the cold, Ji Shu quickened her pace.
The Lu residence lay in the heart of Jingting Garden. Outside its gates sat the familiar black Cullinan. The same car, the same color, and the same familiar figure standing beside it.
Silhouetted against the streetlamp, Lu Jinchuan leaned against the car with one leg casually bent. A cigarette smoldered between