Chapter 5: How Have You Been?

Jiang Yao turned around and was about to leave. She wanted nothing more than to get away from this place as quickly as possible.

But the woman clung tightly to her arm, refusing to let go. “No, Xiaoqing, you’re my Xiaoqing…”

“Didn’t you hear me? I said you’ve got the wrong person!” Jiang Yao’s voice suddenly rose, but at the same time her struggling hand lost all strength.

“You’re my daughter. How could I possibly mistake you?” the woman sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “Do you know how hard I’ve searched for you all these years? Xiaoqing, come home with Mom, please…”

“Searched for me?” Jiang Yao’s voice was low yet resonant, each word striking the air. “Then when I was hurt back then, what did you do? Who was it that abandoned me and left me all alone?”

The woman was stunned by the question and then broke down into desperate wailing. “Yes, it was my fault, but I had no choice at the time, I never wanted things to be this way… No matter what, I’m your mother. I’ll make it up to you from now on.”

“With what will you make it up?” Jiang Yao’s chest rose and fell as she fixed her gaze on her.

“I…” The woman was choked, unable to reply.

Jiang Yao let out a cold laugh. Before her tears could fall, she shoved the woman away. “My name is Jiang Yao. Jiang Xiaoqing is dead.”

With that, she turned and ran, disappearing swiftly into the curtain of rain.

The woman was left sitting there in a daze for several seconds before breaking down, sobbing uncontrollably.

All of this—every absurd and ridiculous scene—fell into the eyes of the man still standing in the rain.

He Yunqing watched silently as the woman wept, saw how her cries attracted the gaze of passersby, but remained unmoved.

He had seen such a scene of desperate weeping before, he was certain of it… had seen it…

Suddenly, as if something exploded in his mind, the man strode quickly in the direction Jiang Yao had run.

He no longer needed to ask Jiang Yao anything; all those lost memories had come flooding back.

Ten years ago, before he entered the entertainment industry.

Like anyone else, he was just a seventeen-year-old boy.

It had also been a rainy night. He left home with his backpack, only to run straight into a girl in a school uniform.

She was a slight girl; the rain-drenched clothes clung to her thin frame, her wet hair plastered to her cheeks.

Perhaps she had been running too fast, for even though she was so slight, the collision still knocked him back a step.

He wanted to ask her what could make her run like this on a rainy night.

But before he could speak, the girl lifted her face and pressed a finger to her lips in a gesture for silence.

Though still youthful, it was a beautiful face, unadorned and untouched by the world, but her clear eyes brimmed with panic and confusion.

He was stunned by the helplessness in her eyes for a heartbeat.

But the girl had already turned and dashed away once more.

He watched her disappearing figure, shook his head, and walked on. A black Mercedes roared up and stopped in front of him.

A woman jumped out of the car, nearly running to his side. Just like today, she grabbed his arms, weeping hysterically, asking if he had seen a girl in a school uniform pass by.

“She’s my daughter. We had a bit of a fight at home, and now she’s running away,” she sobbed uncontrollably. “She’s just a girl, it’s so late and raining so hard—what if something happens to her? She’s my only daughter, please, if you see her, you must tell me.”

He looked her up and down, then pointed. “She went that way.”

After a pause, he added, “There’s an old abandoned factory over there—it’s a place to shelter from the rain. You might want to check there.”

The woman thanked him profusely and hurried back into her car.

As the car sped past He Yunqing, splashing water around his feet, his own steps inexplicably slowed.

“Help! Someone help!” The girl's desperate cry suddenly pierced the night.

He Yunqing snapped out of his daze and spun around, sprinting madly toward the abandoned factory he had pointed out.

But the cries had already ceased. There was nothing—nothing but the Mercedes’ taillights vanishing into the rain.

He chased after the car with all his might, watching as it turned into a black dot and finally vanished into the downpour.

Clutching his chest, gasping for breath, he finally understood the mistake he had made.

Even if it hadn’t been his intention.

Just as remorse flooded him, a heavy blow struck the back of his head…

On the west side of Huai’an Hospital lies Mirror Lake, a rare haven of tranquility in this bustling city.

On rainy days, Mirror Lake is sparsely populated, mist curling over the water, beautiful and mysterious like a veiled maiden.

Jiang Yao stood alone at the lakeside, gazing at the misty expanse, feeling as if a heavy stone pressed upon her chest.

“To hell with all of it—” She shouted at the top of her lungs, cursing for who knew how long before finally managing to catch her breath.

From a distance, He Yunqing watched her solitary figure in the gentle rain.

He saw her body tremble, saw her raise a hand to wipe her face, and then slowly approached.

“Why did you follow me?” Hearing footsteps, Jiang Yao wiped her face a bit too quickly.

He Yunqing said nothing, simply walked to her side and stood next to her.

“I wasn’t crying, don’t get the wrong idea,” she said, trying to cover it up, pointing at the sky. “It’s just the rain on my face.”

“I never said you were crying,” He Yunqing replied blandly, turning his head to look at her.

Jiang Yao was at a loss for words. Annoyed, she picked up a small stone and tossed it into Mirror Lake.

The calm water rippled instantly.

“What do you want to ask me?” She stared at the lake, changing the subject.

“Hm?” The man narrowed his eyes and looked at her.

Jiang Yao tossed another stone. “Didn’t you say earlier you wanted to ask me something?”

He Yunqing’s gaze lingered on the ripples she had stirred. He was silent for a moment, then held out his hand to her.

“What?” Jiang Yao thought for a second, then placed another small stone from her hand into his palm.

He Yunqing curled his fingers around it and, with a swift, fluid motion, skimmed the stone across the lake.

The pebble skipped three times, dancing across the water and leaving three little splashes behind.

Jiang Yao looked at the water, then at him, rolling her eyes. “If you have nothing to ask, I’m leaving.”

“There’s one thing,” He Yunqing said at last, his voice low, so soft only the two of them could hear.

Jiang Yao stopped, tilting her face up at him. “Go on, ask.”

His deep eyes seemed as unfathomable as a mist-shrouded lake.

Jiang Yao couldn’t read him; she only felt her heart grow as heavy as his.

After a long moment, he finally spoke, “Are you… doing well?”