Meanwhile, at an old courtyard house somewhere in the capital.

The Fu family had long since moved out of the villa district. Because of Julian’s scandal and that shocking jump, the Fu family’s reputation was ruined; the old patriarch died of a cerebral hemorrhage out of anger, and Julian’s father was forced into early retirement, moving the whole family to this ancestral property.

Under the old locust tree in the courtyard, Julian sat in a wheelchair.

His left trouser leg was empty—although he survived the jump from the observation deck, his left leg suffered a comminuted fracture with severe infection and was ultimately amputated.

He held a beige cashmere coat tightly in his arms.

It was the one Sienna had left behind—the one he had taken off to cover her legs in the car that day, which she had rejected and left in the vehicle.

He was thin as a skeleton, his eyes cloudy, alternating between lucidity and madness.

When lucid, he would hug that coat and stare blankly at the gate, as if the next second, that gentle figure would walk in with a vegetable basket, smiling and calling him "Husband."

Most of the time, he was confused.

He would talk to the air, throw tantrums at the coat, and cry out in pain.

"Sienna... it’s cold outside, why haven't you come back to knit me a scarf..."

"Sienna, my leg hurts... it’s raining, I want to drink the ginger soup you make..."

No one paid him any mind.

The nurse hired by the family only delivered his meals and stayed far away, finding him bad luck.

The day the first snow fell, for some reason, he suddenly went mad, pushing his wheelchair as he tried to rush outside.

The wheelchair overturned at the threshold, and he fell into the snow, yet he still desperately protected the coat in his arms, refusing to let a single speck of snow touch it.

"Sienna... I’m here to pick you up... look, I wasn't late this time..."

He lay in the snow, smiling foolishly at the void, his tears frozen on his face.

A thousand miles away in the south, in Haven City.

The Qin family’s private yacht sailed on the shimmering river.

Sienna sat on a deck lounge chair, holding a cup of hot cocoa, watching the bustling lights on both banks.

Mason walked out of the cabin holding a thick wool shawl, gently wrapping it around her.

"The wind is strong on the river, be careful not to catch a cold."

Sienna turned back and gave him a bright smile.

This year, she had been pampered perfectly by Mason. The stagnant, deadly air between her brows had long since dissipated, replaced by the composure and beauty of someone treated tenderly by time.

Mason did not break his promise; he had turned her into the Mrs. Qin that everyone in Haven City envied.

He didn't let her worry about a thing, taking her to see the world’s beautiful sights and restoring the dignity and happiness she had once lost, piece by piece.

Chapter 20

That evening, Sienna was looking for books in the study and accidentally knocked over a tin box on the top shelf.

The box wasn't locked; it fell with a "clang," spilling sketches all over the floor.

Sienna picked one up, her hand pausing slightly.

The drawings were all of her.

There was her profile as she lowered her head to read in the university library;

There was the silhouette of her waiting for Julian with a vegetable basket at the entrance of the Fu villa;

There was even... that moment in the landslide ruins, covered in mud with a look of despair in her eyes.

In the bottom right corner of every sketch was a date.

The earliest one was, surprisingly, seven years ago.

That was when she had just registered her marriage with Julian; she was holding the red marriage certificate with a sweet smile in front of the civil affairs bureau, while the person who drew it seemed to be standing in a distant corner, his brushstrokes filled with an inexpressible melancholy.

Sienna cradled the drawings and sat on the carpet for a long time.

Mason pushed the door open and saw this scene, his footsteps faltering.

He walked over and squatted in front of her. Without explaining, he simply reached out to tuck the loose strands of hair behind her ear.

"Mason," Sienna looked up, her eyes slightly red, "How long... have you been watching me?"

Mason looked at her, his typically rakish peach-blossom eyes now filled with deep affection.

"A long time."

"Since you played the 'Butterfly Lovers' concerto at the university freshman orientation party."

"At the time, I thought you were blind for falling for that wooden block, Julian. Later..." He smiled self-deprecatingly, "Later, I watched you suffer injustices, watched you lower yourself into the dust for him, and I was both angry and heartbroken. I wanted to snatch you away, but your eyes didn't see me."

He took Sienna’s hand and kissed it.

"Until the day of the landslide, when I dug you out of the dirt. You grabbed my sleeve, burning with fever as you mumbled: 'If there is an afterlife, I will never marry a heartless man'."

"I vowed right then and there: there won't be a next life. In this life, I will take over."

Sienna looked at him, and tears finally fell.

She reached out and held this man who had loved her deeply for seven years and watched over her in the darkness for seven years tightly.

"Thank you, Mason."

"Thank you for finding me."

Outside the window, gorgeous fireworks burst in the night sky over Haven City, illuminating the entire river surface.

Sienna leaned into Mason’s arms, watching the flowing light across the sky, and suddenly remembered that rainy night from a year ago.

"Do you still hate him?" Mason asked softly.

Sienna closed her eyes, a smile of relief curling at the corners of her lips.

"No, I don't hate him anymore."

"Hate requires energy; he isn't worth it."

At the same moment, in the capital.

In that dilapidated courtyard, the snow fell heavier and heavier.

Julian lay in the snow, his body long since frozen stiff, yet he wore a bizarre, happy smile on his face.

In his dying hallucinations, it seemed he had returned to ten years ago.

Back then, he hadn't yet fallen for the facade of Chloe, and Sienna hadn't been heartbroken by him.

A young Sienna was wearing a white dress, standing under the sycamore tree in the courtyard, shyly handing him a bottle of water: "Julian, here you go."

This time, he didn't walk away impatiently.

He reached out his hand, wanting to take the bottle of water, wanting to grab that girl’s hand.

"Sienna... don't go..."

He mumbled, that thin, withered hand grasping at empty air twice before finally dropping limply into the snow.

The old trench coat in his arms had long since been soaked through by melted snow, becoming icy and bone-chilling.

Snowflakes fell continuously, quickly covering his body, turning him into a white, abandoned tomb.

Only a corner of that old trench coat remained exposed to the snow, trembling gently with the cold wind.

Like an unfinished period that could never be continued again.

(The End)