After Letting Go, Her Regret Remains - Chapter 1

Do you still remember your first crush from your youth? How are they doing now?

Hula Hoop: They’re lying next to me playing games. They lost and are taking it out on their phone, hahahaha. Hearing me laugh at them, they’re now leaning over me, trying to bite me. So unreasonable.

A summer rainstorm, humid and stifling.

Inside a high-end apartment, the low hum of the air conditioning kept the summer heat at bay, but the clamor of the rain still pierced through, adding a chill to the silent late night.

Shang Li was listening to music when she unexpectedly stumbled upon a comment she had left years ago. The timestamp read June 23, 2018 seven years ago.

And that first crush from her youth had stayed by her side, from age nineteen to twenty-nine, about to mark their tenth year together.

Shang Li couldn’t resist reading the comment several more times. Though the words were simple, they still carried the sweetness and beauty of that time.

No wonder it had been pushed to the top comment. Even now, people were still asking in the replies: How are things now? Are you still together?

Now?

In an instant, the light in her eyes dimmed. Emotions of loss and melancholy surfaced one after another in her gaze, while the lingering smile at the corners of her lips froze awkwardly, unable to fade in time.

Those days were truly wonderful.

An involuntary wave of nostalgia washed over her.

Just then, her phone rang. The caller ID showed Jiajia.

Meng Yuan’s assistant, Kou Jia.

When it came to Meng Yuan, Shang Li always put her first. So, upon hearing Meng Yuan’s drunken, slurred voice calling her name over the phone, she didn’t hesitate to rush out into the pouring rain and drive straight into the storm.

By the time she reached her destination, the drinking party had already ended. Meng Yuan stood under the opulent, golden entrance of the venue, dressed in a black dress, her wavy hair cascading down to her waist, graceful and poised.

Shang Li parked her car by the roadside, stepped out, quickly opened an umbrella, and walked toward her.

“Didn’t I tell you not to come?” Seeing her, Meng Yuan’s brows furrowed slightly, her striking face exuding a sharp, almost aggressive aura.

Shang Li was momentarily stunned by the remark, freezing in place. Only then did she realize that, in her haste, her shoes had been soaked through by the accumulated water, leaving her feet damp and chilled.

She nervously curled her toes, suddenly too hesitant to step forward.

“Sister Meng Yuan sent you a message earlier, telling you not to come,” Kou Jia explained from the side. Noticing Shang Li’s discomfort, she quickly added with a forced laugh, “The rain is so heavy Sister Meng Yuan was just worried about you, afraid it might be unsafe on the road.”

“Oh, I was driving just now and didn’t see it,” Shang Li replied, turning to Kou Jia with a faint smile, brushing off the latter part of her explanation.

As she spoke, she lowered her gaze, a fleeting hint of disappointment passing through her eyes.

In the past, Meng Yuan would have indeed been as Kou Jia described protective and caring, unwilling to let even a drop of muddy water touch her.

But now…

Her rain-soaked toes curled inward, filled with an overwhelming sense of shame.

Shang Li let out a soft sigh, trying her best to shake off the gloom. Perhaps Meng Yuan was just tired from the day’s social engagements and still drunk, so it was natural for her to be in a bad mood.

For a moment, silence hung in the air, thick with tension.

Kou Jia’s eyes darted discreetly between the two, observing their expressions with unease, inwardly lamenting the awkwardness of the situation.

How did two people who were once so deeply in love end up like this?

There was no infidelity, no change of heart, and the so-called seven-year itch should have passed by now!

Unable to bear the atmosphere any longer, she had to speak up and suggest, “Sister Meng Yuan, why don’t you go back with Sister Shang Li first? When the driver arrives, I’ll have him bring the car over.”

Meng Yuan hummed in agreement, rubbing her right temple with a weary expression.

Seeing this, Shang Li stepped forward, tilting the umbrella to cover Meng Yuan as she lifted the hem of her dress, bent down, and hurried toward the car door.

After closing the umbrella and getting into the car, Shang Li took a few tissues to wipe the rainwater from her hands. Then, she pulled a hangover remedy from her bag and handed it to Meng Yuan. “How are you feeling? This is for…”

“No need,” Meng Yuan, seated in the passenger seat, kicked off her high heels as soon as she got in, crossing her legs and resting them on the dashboard. As she spoke, her fingers swiped lazily across her phone screen. “I’m not drunk.”

“Not drunk? Then why did you say on the phone.”

“If I hadn’t said that, could I have left?” Meng Yuan scoffed, her voice dripping with irritation. “Those old geezers, chattering nonstop so annoying! Do they even realize who’s asking for favors here?”

Hearing this, Shang Li’s heart sank.

When had “missing her” become an excuse for Meng Yuan to dodge social engagements?

“What’s wrong? Let’s drive.”

Shang Li snapped back to reality, murmuring an acknowledgment as the car slowly started. Out of the corner of her eye, she couldn’t help glancing at the person beside her.

Meng Yuan started a game on her phone, the faint glow illuminating her face. Her skin was fair and taut, seemingly untouched by the harsh marks of time, yet it carried a mature, alluring charm refined by the years.

With her bold eyebrows, straight nose, petal-like lips, deep-set eyes, and bright, spirited pupils, her face alone was enough to make renowned directors extend olive branches, and endorsement offers poured in endlessly.

As if fate had blessed her, at just twenty-three, Meng Yuan had won the Golden Rooster and Hundred Flowers Awards with a low-budget film, becoming a bona fide double-award-winning actress.

In the years that followed, her career soared, and she swept nearly every prestigious award in the film industry.

To this day, she remained immensely popular and highly sought after.

As the game ended, Meng Yuan clicked her tongue in displeasure. Glancing at her messages, she grew even more agitated. “How tiresome. They haven’t had enough of lecturing me at the dinner table. If I have so many flaws, why even hire me? Let them find someone else if they’re so capable!”

Hearing this, Shang Li couldn’t help but advise, “Director Liu might be strict, but he did mentor you, and he’s still willing to…”

“Enough, not this again. Is that all you know how to say?”

Before Shang Li could finish, Meng Yuan cut her off impatiently.

Muttering under her breath, “Will this ever end?” Meng Yuan turned off her phone, closed her eyes, and feigned sleep, clearly unwilling to speak further.

The confined space plunged into complete darkness.

Shang Li froze, staring blankly at her, her gaze fixed on a vague point in the dimness as her heart grew heavy.

A faint, lingering fragrance drifted into her nostrils, it came from Meng Yuan, bold and unrestrained, just like the woman herself, with an overwhelming presence.

The car moved forward, merging into the ceaseless flow of traffic, crossing the bridge, and stopping at an intersection as the traffic light turned red.

Inside the car, silence still reigned. Outside, multicolored lights flickered and danced, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across Meng Yuan’s face and body.

Shang Li didn’t know how long she had been staring at her, until her vision began to blur, splitting into several hazy faces.

She could no longer see her clearly.

At some point, Meng Yuan’s appearance had gradually grown more and more indistinct.

Even though this person was right beside her, within arm’s reach, she felt as if Meng Yuan had sunk into another space she couldn’t touch, thousands of miles away.

She was beginning to lose sight of herself too.

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