It was the early hours of the morning when Clara dragged her exhausted body back home. As soon as she switched on the lights, her phone chimed several times.

It was a barrage of messages from Selene.

"Since you 'like' my posts every day, I assume you already know that Night and I have officially registered our marriage. He also mentioned he’s giving me a wedding in the Maldives. I’ve seen the concept art—it’s breathtaking. Every single detail is exactly how we imagined it when we were teenagers. I can't believe that after all these years, he hasn't forgotten a thing."

"I should thank you, too. If it weren't for you, Night’s world might still be dark. I truly appreciate you taking care of my husband for those seven long years."

Staring at these brazen taunts, Clara found she no longer had the strength to even feel angry. She retreated to her bedroom and fell into a deep, heavy sleep.

Night did not return that night either, sending only a brief message.

[Clara, I still have some things to handle. Is your injury serious? If it hurts too much, let me know, and I’ll come back right away.]

Clara gazed at the lines of text for a long time, her eyes shimmering with a cold light before she typed a short reply.

[No need.]

Night Knightley, from this moment on, I no longer need you.

Once the wound on her shoulder had scabbed over, Clara returned to the Knightley Manor alone. When Night was blind, the cottage they shared was a sanctuary for just the two of them.

She took a hoe and walked to the peach tree in the courtyard, which was still lush and vibrant. Beneath it lay the wishes they had buried on Night’s eighteenth birthday.

The metal box was rusted, and the sealed glass bottle inside was clouded with moisture. She took out a star-shaped slip of paper and unfolded it, revealing her own handwriting.

"I hope Night can see the world again. I hope Night stays safe and prosperous. I hope I can stay by his side forever."

The future she had wished for was entirely bound to him. Some had come true. Others would never be realized in this lifetime.

She then unfolded the other slip, written by Night.

"I hope to regain my sight. I hope Selene is doing well."

Every word was about himself and Selene. There was nothing for her.

It turned out he truly never blamed Selene for abandoning him. He had willingly endured the tragedy of the accident for her sake, without a single regret.

Clara gave a desolate laugh, crumpled her wish into a ball, and flushed it down the drain. Then, she unclasped the necklace from her neck.

This was the gift Night had bought her with the first profits he made after returning to the Knightley Group. She had been worried about him spending so much money, but he had held her and kissed her incessantly.

"Clara, they say it’s lonely at the top. But as long as you’re by my side, I have the courage to keep climbing. This is just a necklace; in the future, everything I own—including myself—will be yours."

She buried the necklace and everything related to their past. After filling the hole, she turned to leave, but ran straight into Night and Selene at the gate.

A flash of surprise crossed Night’s eyes when he saw her. "Clara? What are you doing here?"

Clara didn't answer. Instead, she asked, "And you? What are you doing here with her?"

Before Night could speak, Selene chimed in with a smile. "It’s been so long since I heard Night play the piano. He said it was still here at the manor, so we came to get it. Miss Jiang, you know this place so well; why don't you show us the way?"

Without waiting for Clara’s consent, she took her arm and pulled her toward the villa.

——————————

The moment the door opened, a flood of memories rushed into Clara’s mind. The layout and furniture were exactly as they were the day they left—not a single thing had changed.

Perhaps because they had lived here for so long, the nostalgia touched Night as well. He turned to Clara.

"Clara, do you remember when we—"

"I don't remember."

Clara lowered her head, her voice barely a whisper. Night froze, then pointed to a Lego model in the corner. "Didn't we put that in the study after we finished it? Why is it here?"

Clara didn't follow his gaze. Her reply was flat. "When you were blind, many memories felt like hallucinations. They get distorted."

Just as she had hallucinated that Night loved her.

In reality, his feelings for her were merely a desperate mirage born of his darkest hours. Because he couldn't see, he could only rely on touch. She was his guide, his cane, and so he felt she was essential. But once his sight was restored and he could do anything he pleased, she became irrelevant.

And she had believed that the support of their youth could sustain them through the storms of life. In the end, it was all just a reflection in the water—a grand dream that vanished into nothing.

Seeing the fleeting shadow of loneliness on Clara’s face, Night felt a sudden tightening in his chest. He wanted to ask what was wrong, but she turned away and walked toward the balcony.

"The piano is in the last room down the hall. Go yourselves."

Listening to their fading footsteps, Clara sat in a rocking chair and slowly closed her eyes. Soon, the bright sun was swallowed by heavy clouds, and a fine drizzle began to fall.

She stood up and returned to the living room, only to hear the sound of a piano nearby. It was the first piece she had ever heard in her life:

Liebestraum

(Dream of Love).

As she listened, she felt transported back to a summer day when she was ten years old. Instinctively, she followed the melody. Through the window, she saw Night and Selene sitting at the piano, playing a duet.

Even after all these years, their chemistry hadn't faded in the slightest. And after seven years apart, the look in his eyes when he watched her was still one of boundless devotion.

Night loved Selene so much that even after she had abandoned him for seven years, he had never forgotten her.

It made sense. One was a golden boy, the other a high-born lady. Why had she, a servant’s daughter, insisted on crashing a world she didn't belong to? Why had she dared to dream of owning a person who was never meant for her?

If she could turn back time, she wouldn't fall in love with Night at first sight. She wouldn't harbor a secret crush. And she certainly wouldn't have sacrificed everything to care for a blind man for seven years.

The music gradually faded into silence. At some point, Selene’s hand came to rest on Night’s, sliding upward. Through the glass, Clara saw Selene lean into his shoulder and offer him a kiss.

"Night... I know you still love me..."

At that moment, Clara couldn't bear it anymore. She turned and fled.

The rain grew heavier, soaking her to the bone. Her mind was a blur of confusion; one moment she felt like a withered weed on a cliffside, the next like a lone boat capsized by a wave. Rootless and drifting, she had nowhere to call home.

Even her tears were swallowed by the rain, leaving no trace behind.