After Letting Go, Her Regret Remains - Chapter 3

The next day.

Shang Li was woken by the cold. The thin blanket had slipped down to her waist at some point, and her entire body ached.

When she swallowed, the swelling and pain in her throat were unusually pronounced. Her eyes were dry and gritty, with dried white tear tracks stretching from the corner of one eye, across the bridge of her nose, to the other side.

Perhaps because she had been thinking about Meng Yuan all day, even in her dreams, Meng Yuan appeared exactly as she had been back then.

Shang Li remained in her original position, unmoving, trying hard to fall back asleep, hoping to prolong that illusory happiness.

But no matter how hard she tried, the scenes from her dream refused to return.

They could never go back to the way they were.

Forced to accept this reality, Shang Li opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was the disheveled thin blanket, with no sign of Meng Yuan anywhere.

Her heart inevitably sank. She sat up, folded the blanket, hugged it to her chest, and stared blankly into space.

The blanket was filled with Meng Yuan’s scent, which seemed to seep directly into her nostrils.

“Cough, cough!” A sudden itch in her throat triggered a coughing fit. Her throat and chest vibrated in unison, intensifying the discomfort.

Shang Li grabbed the glass of water on the table and drank it all in one go. The cold liquid slid down her esophagus, sending a shiver through her body, yet it also seemed to release the excessive heat trapped inside.

She touched her forehead, it felt slightly warm, a faint indication of a fever.

But she still had to feed the dog today, so she forced her weak body out of bed.

To her surprise, Meng Yuan was still at home, playing fetch with Jin Jin in the living room.

Jin Jin was their Alaskan Malamute, now six years old.

They had adopted him during the most difficult period of their lives, when both their family and career were in turmoil. The only thing that remained steadfast was their determination to stay together.

Thanks to their meticulous care, Jin Jin had grown up healthy and free of illness.

Meng Yuan hadn’t noticed her presence. She picked up the ball, crouched down, and threw it. When Jin Jin brought it back, she didn’t hold back her praise, her face radiant with a smile as she gently patted his head and encouraged him, “Good boy, so clever! Let’s do it again.”

Watching this long-lost heartwarming scene, Shang Li couldn’t help but smile softly, her expression tender. She didn’t make a sound to interrupt or join in.

It had been far too long since she had seen Meng Yuan so vibrant and full of life.

Over the past few years, whenever they were alone, Meng Yuan’s expression had mostly been indifferent. Those eyes, which fans praised as “able to gaze at a telephone pole with deep affection,” held nothing but dull emptiness when they looked at her.

Lifeless and disinterested.

Perhaps this was how Meng Yuan felt about her now.

“Woof, woof, woof!”

Jin Jin was the first to notice her on the second floor. He abandoned the ball in his mouth, wagged his tail joyfully, and ran toward her.

Shang Li instinctively looked up at Meng Yuan. Sure enough, the woman’s previously smiling face instantly darkened.

Like the sky on an afternoon, shifting from clear to overcast in an instant.

Her breath hitched, and the cold air entering her lungs stung slightly.

She couldn’t help but mock herself inwardly. Was she some kind of jinx? Otherwise, why did Meng Yuan react to her as if she were a plague every time they met?

Just then, Jin Jin leaped onto her. Shang Li snapped out of her thoughts, stiffly bent down, and distractedly responded to his enthusiastic greeting.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Meng Yuan sit listlessly on the sofa for a moment before muttering, “How boring,” and then sauntering off to the bathroom.

For a moment, Shang Li’s mind went blank.

I still remember, the year they moved here was when Meng Yuan won the Best Actress award.

During that time, Meng Yuan’s name echoed across the country, with endless invitations, flowers, and applause following her everywhere.

Behind the glamour was Meng Yuan’s sacrifice working almost year-round without rest, covered in injuries and illnesses.

Back then, Meng Yuan loved holding her while dreaming about their future together. “Sister, if only I could get even more famous, then I could introduce you to big directors, bring the best scripts right to you, and let you pick and choose as you please.”

She teased on purpose, “What if no director wants me?”

“How could that be! Who would be that blind?” Hearing this, Meng Yuan immediately sat up, her brows furrowed with indignation and disapproval. Finally, she said in a huff, “If there really is, then I’ll fund everything myself find you the best team, use the best equipment. I’ll make them regret their blindness!”

She laughed along in response, but there was not a hint of desire for fame or fortune in her eyes only the earnest, radiant gaze Meng Yuan fixed on her at that moment. “Alright then, when you become a super big star, I’ll ride on your coattails and join the crew with funding.”

Perhaps it was because of those words, but from then on, Meng Yuan worked even harder. Talent, skill, dedication, and diligence these were the consistent praises she received from the outside world.

When she was extremely busy, the moment they met, longing would rush out from the narrow cracks of time.

“Sister, aren’t you being too biased? Isn’t it enough that this dog sticks to you all the time?” Once again interrupted by Jin Jin during an intimate moment, Meng Yuan couldn’t hold back anymore, pouting as she poured out her grievances. “I finally managed to come back, and you’re still siding with it. Am I, a living person, not enough for you to hold?”

The memories faded into Meng Yuan’s increasingly silent figure; the dreams they once shared had become delusions.

Yet, she had never thought of using Meng Yuan’s success to climb higher not in the past, not now, and never in the future.

She clung desperately to this thinning love only because she was afraid that, like countless couples in the world, they would succumb to time and the coldness of a stagnant phase.

So, she firmly believed that as long as they overcame this hurdle, they would welcome an even more passionate love.

In the past, it was always Meng Yuan who held her hand tightly, never letting go even during the toughest and most unbearable times.

They had weathered storms and hardships together, and now that it was her turn, she didn’t want to give up easily.

She was afraid of missing something by accident, afraid that they would pass by each other and become strangers.

But as of today, was reality truly as she imagined?

Did Meng Yuan, still love her?

Shang Li didn’t know, because Meng Yuan hadn’t said she loved her in a long time. When pushed to the brink of endless self-doubt, she had once screamed back at Meng Yuan, “Do you even still love me?”

Each time, Meng Yuan would look at her with a weary, helpless expression, silently blaming her for being unreasonable, but never directly answering the question.

“What do you think? We’ve been together for so long, don’t you know?”

This gave her no peace of mind, but since she hadn’t heard those cruel, heartless words directly, she couldn’t help but cling to a sliver of hope.

She stubbornly sought an answer.

Sensing her low and despondent mood, Jin Jin kept licking her hand, standing on its hind legs and trying to rest its front paws on her shoulders.

“I’m fine.” Shang Li crouched down, hugged Jin Jin, and gently patted its head.

At that moment, Meng Yuan emerged from the bathroom and walked toward her and Jin Jin.

Just as they were about to pass each other, Shang Li called out to her, “Meng Yuan, are you free today? Could you take Jin Jin.”

“No, I have to go out later.” Meng Yuan didn’t stop walking, only pausing a moment later when she registered the rest of the question. “What’s wrong with Jin Jin?”

Shang Li pressed her lips together, falling silent for a moment. The words of inquiry rose to her lips but were swallowed back down. “It’s nothing. I’m not feeling well today. Could you take Jin Jin out this afternoon?”

“Alright, we’ll go in the evening. You should go see a doctor.”

“Okay.”

“Cough, cough!” Afraid of passing anything to Jin Jin, Shang Li turned her head away and covered her mouth as she coughed a few times.

Hearing the noise, the person ahead suddenly turned back and said, “Take some medicine first.”

Shang Li froze for a moment, her mind going blank. She mumbled, unsure how to respond, and only managed to whisper an almost inaudible “Okay” after Meng Yuan had already entered the dressing room next to the bedroom.

Suddenly remembering something else she needed to tell Meng Yuan, she got up and followed, knocking a few times before pushing the door open.

“By the way, Meng Yuan, are you free on the 25th of next month?”

After speaking, Shang Li licked her lips, nervously watching Meng Yuan’s expression.

That day was their tenth anniversary.

Meng Yuan’s expression, however, remained unchanged as she continued applying her makeup. “No, I’m busy. A new film is starting production that day. Why?”

For some reason, Shang Li suddenly felt flustered. Meng Yuan’s calm, indifferent demeanor contrasted sharply with the eager anticipation unconsciously reflected in her own eyes, making her excessive concern seem all the more awkward and embarrassing to voice.

Had Meng Yuan really forgotten? How could she forget this day?

Nine years ago, she had promised to remember it forever.

Yes.

In the early years of their relationship, Meng Yuan had indeed kept her word, meticulously preparing for every anniversary.

But as time went on, Shang Li began to feel that Meng Yuan had grown weary and bored with their various celebrations. The delight in her eyes was far outweighed by a sense of tedium and disinterest in the surprises Shang Li carefully arranged.

Sometimes, Meng Yuan would remember only afterward; other times, she would forget entirely. When Shang Li brought it up, she would simply ask, “What gift do you want?”

Why did she assume Shang Li wanted something from her?

Never mind. Even if she remembered, what difference would it make? She was busy that day anyway. Whether they celebrated or not, it was all the same.

Did she really think that celebrating their tenth anniversary would elevate their relationship or bring it back to how it was in the beginning?

She couldn’t tell if this was meant to comfort herself or mock her own expectations.

Though she felt a pang of sadness, Shang Li wasn’t entirely surprised.

So many of the things Meng Yuan had once said and promised had faded and lost their color over time.

Like fireworks blooming in the night sky their most beautiful moment existed only in the present.

Her mind went blank for a few seconds before Shang Li quickly changed the subject. “What film is it? How come I haven’t heard about it?”

Meng Yuan was applying eyeliner, and her hand slipped, causing the line to go crooked. She let out an annoyed hiss, irritably pouring makeup remover onto a cotton pad. “It’s Director Liu’s film,” she replied tersely.

Seeing this, Shang Li stepped closer, subtly taking the items from her hands. She picked up a cotton swab, dipped it in lotion, and said, “Let me help you.”

Meng Yuan hummed in agreement, turning toward her and closing her eyes.

Shang Li gently lifted her chin, carefully wiping away the crooked eyeliner before redrawing a clean line.

Warm breath cascaded down onto her face, Shang Li’s features so close they nearly touched hers, yet Meng Yuan felt not a single ripple in her heart.

Once, she had yearned with all her being to melt the iceberg that was Shang Li. Once, she had loved Shang Li’s gentle flow like water, adored the way Shang Li loved her wholeheartedly.

But under the day-after-day saturation of tender affection, the once turbulent ocean that would surge and boil because of Shang Li had gradually stilled into stagnant water, unable to stir even the faintest ripple.

Meng Yuan even doubted did she still love Shang Li at all?

She didn’t know.

That was why she detested the repeated accusations from Shang Li’s lips and loathed the unspoken inquiries in her eyes.

The smooth, upward sweep of the eyeliner extended to its tip, the pen pausing mid-air as Shang Li quietly gazed at the face before her still the same as before, still making her heart flutter.

Behind thin eyelids, Meng Yuan’s eyeballs shifted slightly, but she didn’t open her eyes.

The two stood in silent confrontation, an aura of sorrow and despair instantly permeating the entire dressing room.

Something was gradually slipping away in the silence, and in that moment, both knew with stark clarity they could never go back.

The delicate threads of fate pulled them further and further apart.

A surge of bitterness welled up in her eyes. Shang Li lowered her gaze, swiftly capped the eyeliner, turned her head away, and said, “All done. Don’t forget to walk Jin Jin tonight.”

“Mm, I know.

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