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Chapter 8: The Choice
The days following Jiang Zhen's quiet confrontation were agonizing.
Yuyan couldn't escape the truth of his words. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw him—his eyes, so intense and piercing, the way his lips had brushed against hers. She had tried to focus on work, to keep herself busy, to bury the emotions swirling within her, but it wasn't enough.
No matter how hard she tried, Jiang Zhen lingered in her thoughts.
She couldn't keep pretending anymore. The lines between hatred and desire had blurred too much, and she found herself questioning everything—her reasons for marrying him, her thirst for revenge, the fragile plan she had held onto for so long.
Was it really revenge she sought? Or was it something more?
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That evening, Jiang Zhen returned home late as usual. Yuyan had been sitting by the window, her thoughts clouded by doubt and confusion. She didn't turn to look at him when he entered, though she could feel the familiar weight of his presence in the room.
"I thought you were avoiding me," he said, his voice unusually soft.
"I wasn't," she replied, not looking at him. "I've just been busy."
There was a long silence, the kind that felt heavy with unspoken words.
Finally, he stepped closer, stopping just behind her. She could feel the heat of his body, hear the faint sound of his breath. And yet, she didn't move.
"I've been thinking," he said, his voice almost a whisper. "You're right about one thing. This isn't just about revenge anymore."
Yuyan's heart skipped. She forced herself to remain calm, to keep her emotions in check. "It's still about everything you've taken from me."
His hand came to rest on the back of the chair she was sitting in, and she felt his touch on the back of her neck. His fingers lightly brushed the skin there, sending a shiver through her.
"I know," he said quietly. "I know what I've done. And I can't undo it. But I've tried to show you, Yuyan... I've tried to show you that I'm not the man you think I am."
She turned then, facing him. His expression was open, vulnerable, more so than she had ever seen it. For the first time, she saw the weight of his regret and pain.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words caught in her throat. Part of her still wanted to hate him, to hold onto her anger. It had been her only anchor for so long. But now, standing before him, it felt like a lie.
Her gaze softened. "And what do you want from me, Jiang Zhen?"
He stepped forward, closing the distance between them, his eyes locked on hers. "I want you to stop pretending. I want you to stop running from what we both know is there."
She swallowed hard, her pulse racing. She could feel the walls she had built around herself cracking, piece by piece. "And what if I can't? What if I can't let go of everything you've done?"
"You don't have to let go of it all at once," he said softly. "But you do have to choose, Yuyan. You have to choose whether you're going to keep holding onto the past, or if you're going to take a chance on something new. Something real."
She trembled at his words, unsure of what to say. He was right. She had been holding onto the past for so long, using it as a shield. But now, that shield felt like a prison.
"You don't make it easy, do you?" she whispered, her voice hoarse.
"No," he said, his voice filled with quiet conviction. "But neither do you."
The space between them was charged, the air thick with the weight of their emotions. She felt the pull, the magnetic connection that had always been there, even when they fought it.
Slowly, Jiang Zhen reached out, his hand resting gently on her cheek. His touch was warm, tender, and Yuyan couldn't pull away.
"I can't undo my past," he whispered, his forehead resting against hers. "But I can choose what comes next. And I want you to be a part of that choice."
She closed her eyes, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. "I don't know if I can trust you," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
"You don't have to trust me yet," he replied, his voice soft but steady. "But I'm asking you to take a chance. To let go of the anger, the revenge, and see where we can go from here."
For a long moment, Yuyan stayed still, her mind racing with everything she had been holding back. The bitterness. The anger. The pain.
But then, something inside her shifted. The walls she had built crumbled, and she found herself stepping closer to him, her breath shaky but determined.
She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mix of fear and longing. "I'm scared, Jiang Zhen."
"Good," he said softly. "Because we can face it together."
And then, in that quiet, fragile moment, she finally let go.
Their lips met in a kiss that was slow, unsure at first, but then deepened, as if they were both trying to make up for lost time. The kiss was more than passion. It was a promise—an uncertain one, but a promise nonetheless.
And as they held each other, Yuyan knew one thing for sure: this was no longer about revenge. It was about something far more dangerous—and far more real.
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