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Aunt Zhong, seeing her dripping hair, quickly handed her a dry towel.

Lin Gantang casually wiped her hair and changed into a fresh set of clothes, before finding some paper and a pen, and with downcast eyes, she rewrote the love letter.

“Take this to him, and say it was found at the front door downstairs without getting wet,” Lin Gantang handed it to Aunt Zhong.

Following behind Aunt Zhong, Lin Gantang saw a ray of light brighten Wen Yanqing’s gloomy face as he took the letter. His features softened into a visible appreciation: “Thankyou.”

His spirits lifted, Lin Gantang showed a faint smile.

Wen Yanqing fondled the letter, carefully putting it back into place.

The rain continued to fall, showing no sign of letting up.

After Aunt Zhong left, Wen Yanqing walked to the window and opened it halfway, letting the moist rain blow in, falling on his face and fluttering against his clothes.

Wen Yanqing looked up into the sky, then pursed his lips, his expression turning sullen again as he closed the window.

What was he expecting? Even if it thundered, Tangtang wasn’t there anymore.

The sound of a bell rang in his ears, and Wen Yanqing suddenly turned and followed the sound.

Then he remembered how she had returned her ankle chain to him, heartbroken and disappointed.

Wen Yanqing walked to the desk and fumbled for the chain. At that moment, he knew all his senses had been an illusion. His eyes grew hot, and his heart, which had been pulled in every direction, was now densely throbbing with pain.

Letting go after having owned something hurts more than never having had anything at all.

At first, he only wanted a single glance from her, then to hold her hand just once. Accidentally stealing a kiss, he grew greedy for mutual surrender, desiring a shared home and more.

But Wen Yanqing knew, in the beginning, he had nothing.

Her departure left everything as it had been, yet her heart had been shattered beyond recognition halfway along the journey.

It was only a few days, yet he missed her more and more, as though he saw her everywhere, heard her voice in every sound.

But it was all an illusion.

Wen Yanqing walked forward, leaving his room to head towards the stairway. A sudden overflow of pain made his head swim, and he could hardly stand, until a force yanked him back just as he was about to step into thin air down the stairs.

They both fell in front of the staircase.

Wen Yanqing’s forehead was slick with sweat from the pain, and he breathed rapidly.

Lin Gantang anxiously reached for his forehead, but her wrist was suddenly grabbed.

“Tangtang?”

Startled, Lin Gantang pulled her hand back and escaped from his grasp, moving far away.

“Tangtang!” Wen Yanqing bit his lip and stumbled to his feet in pursuit.

“Mr. Wen!” A passing Aunt Zhong hurried to support him: “Be careful.”

“Is Tangtang here?”

“Miss Lin isn’t here, you’re imagining things.”

“She is here!” Wen Yanqing moved forward.

In front of the stairs, Aunt Zhong, worried, firmly gripped him: “Miss Lin has already left!”

Wen Yanqing shook his head: “Just now, it was her holding me.”

Aunt Zhong glanced at Lin Gantang walking away with reddened eyes and then told him: “No, Mr. Wen, it was me who grabbed you just now.”

“Impossible.” Wen Yanqing’s eyes reddened.

He had clearly sensed her fragrance just now, and her hand on his forehead was warm and soft.

How could it not be her.

“She was here, but didn’t want to talk to me, is that it?” Wen Yanqing’s eyes turned a fierce red as he shouted at Aunt Zhong: “I can’t see; don’t lie to me, don’t lie to me!”

“She…” His breakdown made Aunt Zhong panic and nervous, she stuttered as she watched Lin Gantang walking away.

“She’s gone, Miss Lin has already left.”

Wen Yanqing knew Lin Gantang had truly been there.

But still, she left, probably because she was thoroughly disappointed in him.