Chapter 8 | We’ve Both Been Hurt, Yet Still Want to Be Close

Wen Yan stayed in the hospital for three days.

During those three days, she stared blankly at the ceiling, listened to the rhythmic beeping of machines, and watched the rain outside the window fade from a torrential downpour into a fine drizzle.

Every breath felt like a reminder—

that she had once loved so deeply, and had nearly been destroyed by love itself.

Shen Che barely left her bedside.

He bought coffee outside the ward, took calls in the corridor to handle work, yet his hand always held onto the corner of her sleeve, as if gripping his last shred of security.

He never asked whether she would forgive him—he only appeared whenever she needed him.

Finally, Wen Yan sat up and rubbed her eyes.

She noticed him sitting there, his back tall, his shoulders slightly slumped.

As though he were carrying the weight of the entire world, yet still standing guard over her, unwavering.

She suddenly spoke, her voice as soft as the wind.

“Shen Che…”

He immediately looked up. His eyes were bloodshot, yet bright—like the last star in a night sky.

“I want to… thank you.”

She swallowed. “Thank you for letting go back then. I hated you, but I also understand now—if you hadn’t walked away, I might not have made it this far.”

Shen Che smiled, bitter yet warm.

“So now… you can hate me,” he said softly, “but not enough to reject me for the rest of your life. Right?”

Wen Yan froze for a moment.

Then she nodded slightly.

They both smiled.

In that smile, there were tears—and release.

After being discharged, Wen Yan chose to slowly mend herself.

She quit her old part-time job, moved to a new city, and began again.

Each step was careful, yet more resolute than before.

She learned how to take care of herself, and how to give love to those who deserved it—without destroying herself in the process.

Shen Che changed as well.

He no longer protected her with arrogant self-sacrifice, but learned to lower his head and wait.

He no longer hid love behind coldness, but proved it through actions.

He moved to the same city she lived in, quietly watching over her from the edges of her life.

No grand declarations—only the steady presence of time.

One afternoon, Wen Yan was writing notes in a café.

The wind chime by the door rang, and a familiar figure walked in.

Shen Che stood at the entrance, holding a book in his hands—

the latest release by an author she used to love.

“Wen Yan,”

he said.

His voice was no longer urgent, no longer broken.

She looked up and saw him standing in the light, his gaze warm and steady.

As if telling her—

all those wounds were worth it, just to arrive here.

She smiled faintly. There were tears in her eyes, but no longer pain.

“Shen Che,”

she replied softly, and suddenly understood—

they could finally walk side by side, instead of hurting each other.

He walked over and placed the book on her table. His hand lightly brushed against hers.

That touch wasn’t possession, nor desperation, but—

a genuine promise.

“Can we… start over?”

he asked quietly.

Wen Yan looked at him and smiled, gentle yet firm.

“Yes.”

The world fell silent at that moment.

Not because the pain had vanished, but because they had both chosen—

to love each other, without causing harm.

Sunlight filtered through the window, falling over the two of them.

Their hands were tightly clasped, their breathing in sync.

In that instant, all the tears, all the missed chances, all the suffering melted into—

a happiness that truly belonged to them.