After Letting Go, Her Regret Remains - Chapter 13

Steam misted the air, fogging the mirror. Soon, droplets condensed, tracing winding paths as they rolled down.

Shang Li stared blankly at her fractured, distorted reflection, a face she no longer recognized.

Her consciousness felt like it was trapped in a deep forest shrouded in miasma, her vision completely obscured by haze. She flailed her arms, trying to disperse the fog and see the path ahead.

But it was just mist elusive and deceptive, slipping through her fingers like smoke. It was like punching cotton futile and despairing.

Meng Yuan, Meng Yuan.

That name, once warmed and cherished in her heart, now tasted only of bitterness and sorrow when silently repeated.

The radiant, clear-laughing Meng Yuan from her memories was gradually receding, waving goodbye.

Now, she had become like ancient wood soaked through by the floods of time damp and cold. No matter how fiercely Shang Li tried to ignite it with fire, all she received in return was thick, choking smoke that stung her eyes and throat.

Two versions of Meng Yuan kept overlapping and peeling apart before her eyes.

Water gushed noisily, quickly filling the sink. Shang Li buried her face in it, and a deep sense of helplessness and confusion surged within her.

Meng Yuan, what should I do? How do I love you?

Buzz, buzz, buzz!

Her phone suddenly vibrated wildly. It was her mother, Lai Yanmei, calling.

Startled, Shang Li hurriedly grabbed a towel to dry her face, forcing a smile at her reflection in advance.

How ugly.

In less than a second, her smile drooped. Her bloodshot eyes were hollow and vacant, her brows furrowed with unresolved melancholy. Under the bright bathroom lights, her exhaustion and pallor were impossible to hide.

The ringing phone felt like a death knell piercing and urgent.

Shang Li quickly took out a lipstick, swiped it over her lips a few times, and dabbed a little on her cheeks to add some color.

Once she had composed herself somewhat, she answered the call.

During the brief exchange of pleasantries, Lai Yanmei’s eyes discreetly scanned Shang Li’s face several times.

Shang Li responded cautiously, afraid her mother would notice something amiss. She just wanted to end the call as soon as possible. “Mom, it’s so late. Is something wrong?”

Lai Yanmei: “Your birthday is in a couple of days. I’ll come see you, and we can have a meal together.”

Birthday? A flicker of surprise crossed Shang Li’s face. Before she could lament how quickly time had flown, she hurriedly refused: “No need. It’s just a birthday, not a big deal. Don’t trouble yourself to come all this way.”

“Nothing about my daughter is trivial,” Lai Yanmei said with a soft laugh, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I also want to see how you’re doing. When you were little, your dad and I… Ah, why bring him up? Anyway, invite Meng Yuan along too. I’ve come to realize that as long as you two are happy.”

Shang Li froze again.

After all these years, she never expected Meng Yuan’s name to be spoken so calmly and gently by Lai Yanmei.

But… why now of all times?

How unpredictable fate could be.

Shang Li’s prolonged silence aroused Lai Yanmei’s suspicion. She paused and asked, “What’s wrong? Did you two have a fight?”

“No, no, no,” Shang Li snapped back to reality, denying it outright. “She’s just been a bit busy lately and might not have time.”

Hearing this, Lai Yanmei’s face immediately darkened. The earlier warmth and kindness were instantly replaced by sharpness. “No matter how busy she is, surely she can spare time for a meal, can’t she?”

“After all, her work is quite particular, and it just so happened that day.” Shang Li forced a smile, trying to explain in as casual a tone as possible.

“So coincidental? She just happened to be busy that day? I think she simply forgot your birthday!”

Shang Li licked her lips, her expression barely holding together. “We’re all adults now. Birthdays aren’t something that absolutely must be celebrated. Why must we?”

“I’m not saying birthdays must be celebrated!” Lai Yanmei suddenly grew agitated, her voice rising to a hoarse shout. “Your mother isn’t a fool! I’ve sensed something off between you two for a long time now. Tell me honestly, what’s really going on between you and Meng Yuan?”

“Mom, you’re overthinking it.” Shang Li maintained her composure, speaking with certainty. “There’s nothing wrong between Meng Yuan and me. This is just how things are after being together for so long. Our relationship is stable.”

“No, no.” Lai Yanmei wiped her face, and when her hand moved away, her eyes were already red-rimmed. “You’re lying to me. No wonder I haven’t been sleeping well these past few nights. Every time I wake up and see your photo,I feel unbearably anxious.”

Her heart felt as if struck hard, sourness rising to her nose. Shang Li pinched her thigh hard, forcing herself to remain calm. “Mom, I’m fine. Look at me. I’m perfectly alright.”

Lai Yanmei completely disbelieved her, shaking her head and waving her hands continuously. Streams of turbid tears disappeared into her deep wrinkles. “You’ve always been like this since childhood, swallowing all your troubles. Now you’re out there alone, and if something really is wrong, it’s all my fault for teaching you to be too understanding.”

“Mom, please don’t be like this. I’m not lying to you, really I’m not…” Her carefully maintained composure was about to crumble. As Shang Li glanced at the background wall behind Lai Yanmei, a group photo unexpectedly caught her eye.

Her emotions nearly collapsed in that instant.

Biting the tip of her tongue, Shang Li didn’t dare blink. “Mom, don’t worry. I’m really fine.”

“Then let me come visit you two. It doesn’t have to be on the 27th. The 26th would work, or the 28th or 29th. Just a meal, even half an hour no, twenty minutes, even just ten minutes.”

“Alright.” Shang Li had no reason to refuse any longer. She couldn’t hold on much longer herself. “No problem. I’ll discuss it with Meng Yuan. Don’t worry anymore, and get some rest early.”

After hanging up, Shang Li felt as if all strength had been drained from her body. Leaning against the cold wall, she slid down helplessly.

Why did it have to be like this?

Obstructing them when they were happy, witnessing their misery when they weren’t.

Shang Li let out a self-mocking laugh, feeling more and more like a clown toyed with by time, trampled by love.

Everyone could make fun of her, yet she couldn’t bring herself to disregard them.

Because of the script incident, their relationship had reverted to square one, even worse than before.

Over the past few years, warmth between her and Meng Yuan had become rare, replaced by constant arguments. Silence and coldness had become the norm.

Especially after their cold wars, if she didn’t initiate contact with Meng Yuan, Meng Yuan would absolutely ignore her.

Once, she had stubbornly held her ground, deliberately refusing to seek reconciliation with Meng Yuan.

The result? Nearly a month over thirty days and Meng Yuan hadn’t spoken a single word to her, carrying on with life as usual. It was as if Shang Li had become a dispensable object in her life, or perhaps a dish that wasn’t particularly tasty unpleasant to consume, yet a pity to discard.

In the end, she was the one who gave in first.

From that moment on, she had already realized that in her relationship with Meng Yuan, the depth of affection was no longer equal.

After composing herself, Shang Li stepped out of the bathroom, repeatedly switching to her chat interface with Meng Yuan, pondering how to broach the subject.

Speak of the devil.

The door suddenly swung open, and in the next instant, Meng Yuan’s figure appeared abruptly at the entrance, catching Shang Li completely off guard.

Their eyes met briefly. Meng Yuan paused for a moment, then expressionlessly sat down to change her shoes, stood up, approached Shang Li, brushed past her, and went upstairs.

From then on, Meng Yuan didn’t spare her another glance.

Only the chill that trailed in her wake made the surrounding air feel several degrees colder.

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