After Letting Go, Her Regret Remains - Chapter 4

As usual, Meng Yuan left without saying a word.

Shang Li was brushing Jin Jin’s fur, but her thoughts uncontrollably drifted to Meng Yuan, her ears keenly identifying the source of every sound.

The creak of the cabinet opening, the shuffling of shoes being retrieved.

It wasn’t the first time she had faced such a scene, yet a faint sense of anticipation still rose within her, hoping that one of the sounds was meant for her.

Bang!

The final sound of the door closing, muffled and decisive, severed all information about Meng Yuan from that moment on.

It was also like a slap, striking Shang Li’s face with force. Soon, her cheeks flushed red and burned with embarrassment, her discomfort palpable.

Fantasy breeds expectation; expectation forgives disappointment, yet disappointment never spares expectation.

The seed of doubt broke through the soil, instantly growing into a vast forest that towered into the clouds.

Did Meng Yuan still have feelings for her?

Countless details seemed to have already given her the answer, but as long as Meng Yuan remained silent, she could cling precariously to hope, like walking a tightrope blindfolded, her life hanging by a thread.

The noise from the TV blared, the volume turned up to the maximum, yet it carried no sense of liveliness, only adding to the loneliness.

As the medicine took effect, Shang Li grew increasingly drowsy. Dragging her heavy body, she made her way to the bedroom.

When she woke, her eyes opened to complete darkness. Groping for her phone, she saw it was already 9 p.m. Subconsciously, she opened the chat interface with Meng Yuan clean and empty, as always.

An overwhelming sense of loneliness instantly enveloped her entire being, pulling her into a downward spiral.

Woof, woof, woof!

Jin Jin’s barks came through the door, breaking the chill that filled the room.

A nap had done nothing to alleviate her symptoms; instead, they had grown worse.

Her entire body burned like a ball of fire, her breath scorching hot with every exhale. Her throat felt as if it had been singed, hoarse and dry.

Jin Jin continued to bark, the sound of scratching at the door mingling with it, making the restlessness even more pronounced.

What was going on?

Shang Li reached out and turned on the bedside lamp. Such a simple action strained her bones and muscles, causing a dull ache. After the pain subsided, her body felt even more exhausted and weak.

She got out of bed and opened the door.

Jin Jin, holding the leash in his mouth, placed it in front of her. He barked twice, then turned to look at the main door and barked again.

Shang Li: “Do you want to go out and play?”

Jin Jin’s ears immediately perked up. “Woof, woof!”

Shang Li frowned. “Has Meng Yuan not come back yet? Didn’t she take you out?”

“Woof!” Jin Jin picked up the leash and pushed it directly into her hand.

The answer was self-evident.

So, was Meng Yuan delayed by something, or had she forgotten or simply not taken her words to heart?

Sick and unwell, Shang Li felt even more frustrated. She immediately sent a message to Meng Yuan, but after a long while, there was no reply, as if the message had sunk into the sea.

Jin Jin was growing impatient, whimpering softly and urging her incessantly.

But at that moment, her head felt heavy and her feet light; she could barely stand steadily, let alone muster the energy to go out.

With the slightest movement, her nearly empty stomach began to cramp and convulse, stirring waves of nauseating discomfort that surged upward.

Helpless, Shang Li could only weakly try to reason with Jin Jin: “Jin Jin, how about we go out tomorrow?”

“Woof, woof, woof!”

His protests grew louder with each bark.

“Mom really isn’t feeling well today. Tomorrow, I promise I’ll take you out tomorrow!” Shang Li’s brows were etched with exhaustion, yet she patiently coaxed, “Be good now, and I’ll give you some dried meat treats later, alright?”

No matter how she tried to bribe him, Jin Jin’s ears remained drooped, perking up only at the mention of “going out.”

Shang Li sighed, clutching at one last shred of hope as she opened her chat with Meng Yuan, praying she would see it and keep her promise.

But all that awaited was disappointment.

Pursing her lips tightly, Shang Li quietly tucked her phone into her bag, picked up the leash, and fastened it around Jin Jin. “Just half an hour, okay?”

Unexpectedly, twenty minutes later, a light drizzle began to fall, bringing with it a chill in the air.

Shang Li quickly picked up a banana leaf from the ground, holding it over Jin Jin as she tugged him toward home.

Jin Jin, still not ready to call it a day, planted his feet firmly and refused to budge.

“It’s raining, let’s go home. We can come out again tomorrow.”

“Come on, the nearby pet stores are all closed. If you get soaked, I won’t have the energy to give you a bath!”

But no matter how much Shang Li pleaded until her lips felt dry, Jin Jin remained unmoved. The hundred-pound dog was already a handful to carry on a good day, let alone now.

The standoff between woman and dog dragged on.

Shang Li’s patience finally snapped. “Are you coming or not? If you keep this up, I’m leaving you here! Who else would take you out besides me? You’re so disobedient!”

Jin Jin stubbornly pushed the leaf out of her hand and plopped down right where he was.

The rain began to intensify. What had been a gentle drizzle moments ago now turned into heavy drops, falling straight down and splashing against the ground.

Shang Li stared at him, her anger simmering beneath a mask of calm, her lips trembling uncontrollably as she braced for an outburst.

“Beep, beep, beep!”

She couldn’t help but call Meng Yuan, instinctively seeking help, praying that Meng Yuan would sense her desperation.

As the seconds ticked by, the cold, mechanical female voice from the receiver sent a chill through Shang Li’s veins.

“Beep, beep, beep!”

She dialed again, unwilling to give up.

“Sorry, the number you have dialed. ”

The voice cut off abruptly, sending a sudden, panicked flutter through Shang Li’s heart.

To soothe her disappointment, she made excuses for Meng Yuan maybe she was busy, her phone silenced so she couldn’t hear.

Maybe sending a message would be better. Meng Yuan would see it when she had time.

Switching to the chat interface, Shang Li typed rapidly with both hands.

Without any cover, large raindrops fell from the sky, splattering densely across the phone screen. The touchscreen malfunctioned, letters responding sluggishly, jumbling into incoherent sequences nothing like what she intended.

She wiped the screen dry, only for it to get wet again.

Frustrated, Shang Li switched to voice message. In the midst of the howling wind and pouring rain, her thoughts scattered, and she rambled incoherently, “Meng Yuan, when are you coming back? I went out. I took Jin Jin for a walk, and he won’t go home. It’s raining outside, and no matter how hard I pull him, he just…”

After a long, disjointed monologue, she released her finger, waiting for the message to send.

But when she looked down, the interface remained unchanged not a single word had been recorded.

Her fingers trembling, Shang Li struggled to bend them, pressing hard on the [Hold to Talk] button as she started again, “Meng Yuan, I…”

Her mind suddenly went blank, the words she meant to say vanishing completely, and she even forgot what she was doing at that moment.

Shang Li stared blankly at her phone screen, letting the rain wash over the indelible text.

[June 20, 08:21 AM
Shang Li: [Meng Yuan, are you awake? Remember to take your medicine, and don’t forget to eat something first so your stomach doesn’t get upset.]

June 21, 09:17 AM
Shang Li: [Meng Yuan, how are you? Feeling better? Do you want me to come check on you?]
Shang Li: [Hahaha, Meng Yuan, look at this! It was probably drying on the balcony and got blown down by the wind. I never expected Jin Jin to carry it into her bed.]
Shang Li: [Maybe it still has your scent on it. Jin Jin misses you too.]

June 22, 11:36 PM
Little Bird: [Much better, no need.]
Shang Li: [That’s good. How much longer will your filming take? Do you need anything? I’m free these days and can bring it to you.]
Little Bird: [No need.]]

A string in her mind snapped abruptly, without any warning. The collapse happened in an instant. Shang Li suddenly crouched down, hugging herself tightly, and let out a choked sob as she began to cry.

The rain grew heavier, accompanied by flashes of lightning and rumbles of thunder.

Her thin clothes were quickly soaked through, but Shang Li felt nothing. She cried with all her might, as if this were the only thing in the world worth caring about.

In that moment, all the pent-up grievances and resentment in her chest turned into tears, merging with the rain and flowing toward an unknown distance.

Her sobs were buried beneath the storm, audible only to herself.

From quiet sniffles to unrestrained wails, Shang Li couldn’t hold back. She cried until her throat was hoarse and she could barely catch her breath, yet she didn’t stop.

Suddenly, a soft, warm sensation brushed against her arm. Shang Li lifted her head from the rain.

Jin Jin had come to her side at some point and was licking her hand. The moment their eyes met, Jin Jin lowered her head and let out a soft whimper.

Shang Li’s heart softened, and her tears flowed even more fiercely, streaming down her face. She quickly hugged Jin Jin, her voice raspy: “I’m sorry, Jin Jin. Mama didn’t mean to take it out on you. I…”

As soon as she spoke, her words were choked with sobs, and soon she was crying too hard to speak.

The rain poured down relentlessly, drenching both the woman and the dog. Each step felt heavy, as if weighed down by a thousand pounds.

Yet, as soon as Shang Li entered the building, the rain stopped as abruptly as it had started, as if deliberately mocking her.

Just as she stepped out of the elevator, she ran into an acquaintance.

Shi Jing had arrived fifteen minutes earlier. She had called but gotten no answer and knocked without a response. Just as she was about to leave, she unexpectedly encountered the missing drenched woman and her drenched dog?

“Oh my god! What have you been up to? You’re both so soaked! Oh dear, oh dear!”

“Stop with the ‘oh dears’ and help me hold her. And also wait a moment.” Seeing Shi Jing, Shang Li breathed a huge sigh of relief, as if she had found a savior. At the same time, she could no longer hold herself up. Leaning against the wall, she gasped weakly, “Give her a bath, and don’t forget put her in the dryer to dry.”

Shi Jing was taken aback, worried that Shang Li might stop breathing any second. Noticing her unusually pale face, she reached out to touch her forehead and exclaimed in shock, “Are you trying to kill yourself? Running around in the rain with a fever!”

“If it wasn’t raining when I went out, I would’ve brought an umbrella,” Shang Li grumbled in frustration.

Shi Jing rolled her eyes speechlessly, “Is that really the issue here? It’s late at night where’s Meng Yuan? Why isn’t she with you?”

The high fever made Shang Li’s temples throb; even the slightest movement sent sharp pains through her head. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?!” Shi Jing’s voice shot up abruptly, followed by a rapid-fire barrage of questions. “Didn’t Meng Yuan have no schedule these past two days? How come she’s still not back so late? Didn’t she know you have a fever and let you go out alone to walk the dog? Seriously, if I hadn’t shown up today, would you have just died at home?”

“Stop interrogating me. If you keep asking, I really will die,” Shang Li muttered through gritted teeth, her brows furrowed in discomfort.

“You’re really…” Shi Jing couldn’t help but sigh again, helping her inside.

After mustering the last of her strength to take a shower, Shang Li collapsed onto the sofa, too exhausted to even lift the hairdryer.

Shi Jing had just put Jin Jin into the drying crate and turned to see this scene, letting out several more sighs. “Give it here, I’ll help you.”

In no time, she dried Shang Li’s hair, and a low growling sound suddenly emerged it came from Shang Li’s stomach.

Shi Jing asked, “Don’t tell me you haven’t eaten either?”

Shang Li pressed her lips together, not daring to reply.

Sure enough, Shi Jing’s face darkened instantly as she fumed, “You’re something else! Skipping meals, walking the dog in the rain with a fever, if you hadn’t run into me, you’d have had a rough night ahead!”

“Shi Jing, thank you,” Shang Li said, looking at her sincerely.

Shi Jing faltered, pausing briefly before continuing, “Well, if you couldn’t handle it, why didn’t you call Meng Yuan and ask her to come back and help? But honestly, it seems like she’s paying less and less attention to you lately. Typical, once they have you, they don’t know how to cherish you!”

Thinking of those two missed calls, a bitter smile tugged at Shang Li’s lips. She didn’t dare tell Shi Jing the truth and could only console her, “Don’t blame everything on Meng Yuan. She’s not attached to me, she doesn’t have to revolve around me all the time. She has her own things to do.”

“Who said I’m blaming her! Isn’t she your partner? Who else are you supposed to turn to when you’re sick and need help? Besides, it’s been ten years almost ten years! Even if you raised a dog, it would—”

Jin Jin: “Woof!”

“Oh, sorry,” Shi Jing quickly cut herself off, getting up to open the drying crate and patting Jin Jin’s head apologetically. “Using a dog as a comparison is really an insult to dogs.”

Jin Jin shook off his fur and hopped onto the sofa, placing his large front paws on Shang Li’s shoulders and nuzzling her face repeatedly.

Shi Jing chuckled, unable to resist teasing, “Shang Li, if things really aren’t working out, you could just take Jin Jin and break up with.”

“By the way, what did you come to see me about today?” Shang Li interjected, cutting off Shi Jing’s unfinished sentence.

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Shi Jing paused slightly, following her lead. “It’s nothing urgent. You rest first; I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

Shang Li replied, “It’s fine. I slept a lot this afternoon and I’m not tired now.”

“Alright then. There’s a play that still needs one more actor,” Shi Jing explained. “Although the role isn’t big, it’s quite important and really tests your acting skills. I think you’d be perfect for it. Want to consider it?”

Shang Li knew this was Shi Jing’s way of softening the offer to avoid making her feel indebted this role was most likely specifically secured for her.

Though Shi Jing hadn’t achieved stardom in the entertainment industry, she was an undisputed goddess in the theater world, with impeccable stage skills and powerful emotional resonance.

As for Shang Li, she barely made a mark anywhere,”barely noticeable” described her perfectly.

Shi Jing was someone who genuinely cared for her. Over the years, she had discreetly passed her many promising scripts.

Unfortunately, this time, Shang Li would have to let her down once again.

“Shi Jing, thank you, but I really don’t have time these days. I’m sorry to waste your effort again.”

Shi Jing’s face fell, her expression clearly saying, “I knew it.”

“It’s not that I’m making excuses, it’s just that—”

“Oh, right, it’s just over a month until your tenth anniversary,” Shi Jing said with a pout. “But I heard Meng Yuan’s new project starts filming that day. She probably won’t have time for you, so why bother preparing anything?”

Hearing this, Shang Li’s heart sank. Others remembered, so why didn’t Meng Yuan?

“Think about it, how long has it been since you last took on a role?” Shi Jing was frustrated, but the moment she looked at Shang Li’s face, her anger faded.

Shang Li’s face wasn’t the type to stun at first glance, nor were her features exceptionally striking, but their proportions were perfect each element settled in just the right place, not a fraction off.

Even the mole beneath her left eye added a touch of unique charm.

With well-balanced facial spacing and lively eyes, she could convey a world of emotions without uttering a word, simply by gazing quietly, mfull of narrative depth.

A face like this was made for the big screen.

Yet, after nearly eight years in the industry, Shang Li had been circling through various web dramas and short series, playing supporting roles second lead, third lead, or even less.

“Ah,” Shi Jing sighed, growing more regretful the longer she looked. “If only back then, you hadn’t given up that script to.”

Support After Letting Go, Her Regret Remains