Nan Song listened to Qin Jiangyuan's impassioned speech without the slightest flicker of emotion, only wrinkling her brow when he grabbed her hand and swiftly pulling away from his grasp.
Suppressing the nausea rising in her throat, she asked coldly, "If you knew all along what Nan Ya did, why didn't you report her to the police?"
Qin Jiangyuan faltered, blinking nervously before hastily defending himself. "I was fooled by her act! For three years, I thought you really fell off that cliff. You have no idea how devastated I was—I even developed depression and had to see a therapist. Nan Ya took advantage of my grief, worming her way into my life, tricking me into sleeping with her—"
Just then, the alarm blared, startling him.
Nan Song picked up her phone, silenced the timer, and said coolly, "Time's up. You can leave now."
Qin Jiangyuan froze.
He couldn't believe his carefully crafted "heartfelt confession"—which had taken him two whole days to prepare—had failed to move Nan Song at all.
He had expected her to forgive him midway, burst into tears, and throw herself into his arms—moved beyond words, ready to reunite.
But what was this? Where had he gone wrong?
"Xiao Song!" Qin Jiangyuan grabbed her wrist in desperation. "Don't you believe me? I swear, every word I said is true!"
Nan Song shook him off, disgusted. Even the slightest contact with him made her skin crawl, as if infested with lice—she just wanted to crush him.
She tucked her phone away, saving the recording she'd made, then looked at Qin Jiangyuan with undisguised revulsion.
"You slept with her. You're tainted. Don't show your face around me again—it's an eyesore. But you and Nan Ya are perfect for each other. Trash belongs with trash. May you rot together."
Qin Jiangyuan was utterly dumbstruck as security dragged him out like a stray dog.
Only when he was dumped at the entrance of Nan Corp did he snap out of it, kicking and shouting, "Xiao Song, you have to believe me! I love you—"
Yu Jinwen had just stepped out of his car when a man who looked like a kicked puppy was hurled out of the building. He sidestepped smoothly, his sharp brows furrowing at the man's cries.
"Xiao Song"? Was that Nan Song?
---
Nan Song stood at the sink, scrubbing her hands over and over with soap, as if Qin Jiangyuan's touch had left behind some incurable disease.
After thoroughly disinfecting her skin, she sprayed air freshener around her office and ordered her assistant to replace the chair he'd sat on. Anything touched by that disgusting man needed to be purged.
Finally, cleanliness restored.
Seated in her new chair, Nan Song reviewed the latest project proposal when her executive assistant knocked.
"President Nan, reception says a Mr. Yu is downstairs requesting to see you. He doesn't have an appointment. Should I...?"
Nan Song's long lashes flickered, the words on the document blurring for a brief second.
After three seconds of silence, she said, "Tell him I'm busy. No meeting."
The receptionist relayed the message promptly.
Hanging up, she offered a professional smile. "Apologies, President Nan is occupied at the moment. You may schedule an appointment first."
The last part was a courtesy she added purely because the man was distractingly handsome.
"What? Too busy?"
He Zhao, Yu Jinwen's executive assistant, had never been brushed off like this before. His face darkened. "Do you even know who President Yu is? How dare you dismiss us like this?"
The receptionist paled but held her ground. "I can tell he's someone important, but no one disobeys President Nan's orders. You saw what happened to the Qin Group's young master just now—dragged out like trash. If you'd rather not suffer the same fate, I suggest you make an appointment."
He Zhao was about to explode when Yu Jinwen stopped him with a hand. His deep voice was calm. "If we make an appointment, when can we see her?"
The receptionist, who was both a sucker for good looks and a deep voice, nearly melted. Against protocol, she offered, "One moment, let me check for you."
The executive assistant knocked on Nan Song's door again, bracing herself. "President Nan, the Mr. Yu downstairs is asking when you might be available for an appointment."
Jiang Fan, the deputy president, was discussing the proposal with Nan Song. Seeing her frown, he immediately scolded, "Can't you handle something as simple as scheduling?"
"Apologies, President Nan." The assistant bowed, mentally cursing her troublemaking little sister.
Nan Song's expression didn't soften. "Tell him—next lifetime."
They were divorced. What was the point of meeting?
Better to remember than to reunite.
And so, after waiting patiently downstairs, Yu Jinwen received his answer:
"Next lifetime."
His already thin patience snapped.
"This is outrageous!" He Zhao slammed a hand on the desk.
Yu Jinwen, however, simply grabbed his collar and turned on his heel. "Let's go."
It wasn't like he was desperate to see her. If she didn't want to meet, fine! Who cared?
Hmph.