When the Male Lead Finds Out I’m the Transmigrator Trying to Win Him Over - Chapter 16

Han Qi remembered many things related to Yun Ruo.

Aside from the résumé incident, their real first meeting was at a gathering arranged by Meng Tingmo. At that time, Han Qi had just joined Meng Tingmo’s circle, assuming everyone there would be high-ranking figures.

But in the private room appeared a very young-looking girl, dressed in a white long dress, delicate and pretty. Meng Tingmo only gave her a glass of milk and told her to sit quietly by herself.

The girl was very obedient, sitting there without making a fuss.

Han Qi remembered her, and her name—Yun Ruo.

He had memorized it when he altered her résumé.

He pretended not to know and asked Feng You who Yun Ruo was. Feng You replied that she was Meng Tingmo’s girlfriend:
“That brat just won’t admit it, but you’ll see—he’ll be the one groveling someday.”

Others agreed:
“They’ve known each other for years, he takes her everywhere. Who’d believe there aren’t feelings involved?”

Oh, so she was the girlfriend.

Han Qi never asked further. Each time he met Yun Ruo afterward, he’d only nod or greet her politely, never mentioning the résumé matter.

Later, once when Meng Tingmo and Yun Ruo had a fight, Yun Ruo stormed off. Everyone went looking for her, and Han Qi found her at a hallway corner. She was on the phone with He Xitong, crying and complaining:
“How could he be like this—sob—he’s so stupid—sniff sniff.”

“I can’t believe I like someone so dumb. I’m dumb too—sob sob—I’m dumb too—sniff.”

Whatever He Xitong said, Yun Ruo kept complaining:
“Can’t he just firmly choose me? He won’t date me properly, but won’t let me meet other people either—sniff…”

“He’s too much. This time I won’t talk to him for at least a whole week—sniff sniff.”

Han Qi almost laughed. For all that anger, she would only ignore Meng Tingmo for a week. Somehow, he thought Meng Tingmo was really lucky.

It wasn’t that he envied Meng Tingmo for being loved—it was that the person who loved him was someone so pure and kind.

When Yun Ruo finished her call and saw him, he noticed she still held a piece of birthday cake.

“You went to buy cake?” he asked.

Yun Ruo shook her head innocently:
“Someone in a private room was celebrating. The cake was huge, they couldn’t finish it, so I asked for a slice.”

He thought she was adorable—even in such a moment, she still thought about food. He let her finish before suggesting they head back.

But Yun Ruo pushed the cake toward him:
“Today’s your birthday. Happy birthday.”

Han Qi froze.

After a long while, he softly asked:
“How did you know today was my birthday?”

She shyly touched her nose:
“I looked it up before.”

When they first met, Han Qi was still a nobody. Just a year later, he had already risen to prominence. Meng Tingmo’s sharp eye for talent had made him extend an olive branch early.

Yun Ruo was surprised to see Han Qi at Meng Tingmo’s gatherings, so she had searched online for information. Since his birthday—July 31st—was easy to remember, she memorized it instantly.

She thought today’s dinner was specially for Han Qi’s birthday. Only when she arrived did she realize Meng Tingmo had no idea what day it was—it was just a casual get-together.

Han Qi never mentioned it. Given his background, Yun Ruo understood why.

So when she saw someone offering cake, she instinctively asked for a piece.

“Sorry, this is all I have.” Yun Ruo handed it over. “Don’t mind it. I’ll go buy a proper one later and celebrate with you.”

Han Qi accepted the plate. It was ice-cream cake, already melting at the edges—just like his heart, softening completely in that moment.

“You said you didn’t want to go back and see Meng Tingmo,” he said.

“Huh?” Yun Ruo didn’t understand.

Han Qi turned toward the elevator:
“You said you’d celebrate my birthday. Let’s go buy a cake.”

They didn’t go back.

In the end, he really did spirit Yun Ruo away.

Meng Tingmo nearly went mad searching for her. When he learned what happened, his glare could have killed. From then on, he set a reminder to pre-order a cake for Han Qi every year, never allowing Yun Ruo to buy one for him again.

Han Qi laughed that Meng Tingmo was petty. Feng You and the others thought he was joking. Only Han Qi knew—he truly meant it.

Meng Tingmo was indeed petty.

But now—

Pulling himself from the memory, Han Qi thought: that petty Meng Tingmo had so generously declared he no longer wanted eight years of love.

Meng Tingmo had abandoned it.

How generous.

The night was cold. After dinner, Han Qi didn’t let Yun Ruo linger at the beach—just let her view it from the restaurant balcony.

She stayed silent the whole time, and Han Qi didn’t press. He knew what she needed most was quiet.

After something so devastating, people were most likely to act irrationally.

He had to be sure Yun Ruo was stable—that she wouldn’t do anything foolish.

Half an hour later, Yun Ruo finally spoke:
“I’m fine now. Let’s go back.”

Han Qi rose to send her home.

Before she got out of the car, he mentioned the birthday cake from years ago:
“No one thought I’d care about birthdays.”

He had always seemed so strong, so indifferent to everything.

Yun Ruo leaned weakly against the seat, exhausted. Hearing him, she forced her mind to turn.

After a pause, she said slowly:
“After my parents passed away, birthdays lost most of their meaning.”

“Later I realized—the reason I wanted to celebrate was because it meant the people who cared about me would gather to celebrate too.”

“I just wanted to confirm one thing: that someone cares about me.”

And so she felt Han Qi must need that too.

Raised in an orphanage, with no one to care for him, Han Qi had walked through many lonely years. Surely, at times, he too wished someone would care.

When the car stopped, Han Qi got out to open her door.

Yun Ruo thanked him and walked toward the house. The nanny was already waiting at the door, warm light spilling from inside.

Only after she went in and the door closed did Han Qi drive away.

Once home, Yun Ruo rushed straight to her bedroom, locking herself inside, then shut the bathroom door as well. Finally—finally—she could cry out loud.

Her sadness was always delayed. In the moment she could hold back, but hours later, alone, the tears came uncontrollably.

She was devastated by everything today.

Whether it was seeing Meng Tingmo after days apart, or seeing him with Jiang Yufei, or hearing him say he no longer wanted their eight years of love.

She had fought so hard to survive this day.

Meng Tingmo, Meng Tingmo, Meng Tingmo…

Yun Ruo sobbed until she was breathless, as though trying to cry out all the grievances of the past month. What hurt most was that the one who had wronged her was Meng Tingmo.

The future was still so long—but the person who once coaxed her would no longer be him.

He didn’t want her anymore.

After she had given him all her heart, he had abandoned her without explanation.

“Madam?” The nanny paced anxiously outside the door. From the moment Yun Ruo came home, she sensed something was wrong. Now, with the door locked tight, she knew something had happened.

“Madam?” She called repeatedly, but there was no answer.

Just as she was about to call Meng Tingmo, footsteps sounded inside. The door opened, and Yun Ruo appeared, bent over, holding the wall.

“Oh heavens, what happened?” The nanny rushed to support her.

Yun Ruo gasped for breath, still not enough:
“Oxygen… the oxygen tank…”

In late pregnancy, many complications could occur. To prepare for Yun Ruo’s shortness of breath, they had long kept an oxygen tank at home.

The nanny fetched it quickly.

A few minutes later, Yun Ruo’s breathing steadied.

Her face was still streaked with tears, her eyes and nose swollen red, her hair messy and clinging to her face—so unlike her usual self.

“Madam, are you feeling better?” the nanny asked.

Yun Ruo nodded.

She hadn’t expected crying too long would cause difficulty breathing. Nothing like this had happened since she became pregnant.

“I’ll call sir.” The nanny pulled out her phone. She had been frightened badly tonight.

“No.” Yun Ruo pressed her hand down. She knew Meng Tingmo wouldn’t come back. “I don’t need it.”

Don’t need it? The nanny looked closely—only to see fresh tears sliding silently down Yun Ruo’s face again.

Letting go of Meng Tingmo was unbearably hard.

But Yun Ruo knew—it was time to take the first step.

The next morning, Yun Ruo dug out a package the nanny had packed away before. Checking everything inside, she called the driver. She wanted to go to Yun Jia’s school.

The nanny assumed the couple had reconciled and happily tried to add more to the package. But the bag was too small, so regretfully, she sent Yun Ruo off.

Half an hour later, the car stopped outside Yun Jia’s school.

Only then did Yun Ruo call her brother.

Yes—she hadn’t told him beforehand. She didn’t know if he would come out to see her. But today’s purpose wasn’t to deliver the package anyway.

Whether Yun Jia came or not—it didn’t matter.

As always, the call rang to the end before he picked up. His voice was awkward:
“What do you want now?”

“I’m at your school gate.” Yun Ruo lowered the car window. People bustled in and out, and she felt nostalgic. Her college years had revolved entirely around Meng Tingmo. “Do you want to come out and meet?”

Yun Jia: …

Ten minutes later, in a café outside the school, Yun Ruo and Yun Jia sat across in silence.

Once, they had endless things to say. Now, even their names stuck in their throats. Yun Jia grew more uncomfortable:
“Do you really think of me as your younger brother?”

He asked again—the question that had haunted him.

But this time, Yun Ruo didn’t want to prove anything.
“There’s a package in the car that the nanny prepared. Since you don’t like seeing me, this will be the last time I send you something.”

Yun Jia’s heart jolted.

What did she mean—last time?

He still felt guilty about what happened at the Meng family banquet. And despite everything, he couldn’t erase all those years of closeness overnight. That was why he had come to meet her today.

“What are you trying to say?” Hurry up—prove it to him. Tell him he was her brother, that they’d always be family.

Yun Ruo put down her cup. Since Yun Jia didn’t want to talk, there was no need to linger.
“I just wanted to say—I almost forgot you’re already 24.”

“Even alone, you can take care of yourself.”

Yun Jia froze.

Yun Ruo stood. There wasn’t much left to say. She had held on too tightly all these years. Maybe once she let go, she’d see—it made no difference whether she was there or not.

As she left the café, her phone buzzed with messages from He Xitong. Two of them. The first had come when she entered, but she hadn’t noticed. The second was just now.

He Xitong: Are you okay?

He Xitong: Sent that by mistake.

Yun Ruo tapped lightly and quickly replied.

Yun Ruo: Okay.

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