"He also begged me to tell him where you were. I didn't say." Ash sighed, "I'm not speaking on his behalf. I just think... he is also very pitiful."

I was silent for a few seconds: "It has nothing to do with me."

After saying that, I turned and walked away.

He Jingyun followed, and the two of us walked out of the hospital gate one after the other.

The sunlight outside was blinding; I squinted my eyes.

"What you did just now, you used your family's connections, didn't you?" I asked.

He Jingyun did not deny it: "Yes."

"You don't need to do these things for me."

"I've said before, I decide what I do."

I glanced at him and didn't speak again.

In the evening, we returned to the camp.

I sat alone in my tent, opening Sophie's letter.

The paper had turned yellow, and Sophie’s handwriting was crooked, with some characters even written incorrectly.

"Sister, I'm sorry, Sophie cannot stay with you anymore. You have suffered too much for me, and Sophie does not want to be a burden to you anymore. Sister, you must eat well, sleep well, and find someone who treats you well; don't carry everything alone like Dad did. Sophie will watch over you from heaven and bless you. Sister, Sophie loves you."

I pressed the letter to my chest and bowed my head.

My shoulders trembled slightly.

I didn't cry out loud, but tears fell onto the letter one by one, blurring the ink into a patch.

Outside the tent, He Jingyun stood there, holding a cup of hot water.

He didn't go in.

Ethan was also standing there, further away, holding a bouquet of wildflowers.

They were picked from the roadside—small and yellow, just like the ones she used to like.

He saw He Jingyun's back, saw the hot water cup in his hand, and saw him standing outside the tent, not daring to enter.

Ethan lowered his head, looking at the wildflowers in his hands.

The petals had already been crushed by his grip.

He turned, placed the flowers back in the grass, and walked away.

The next day, I woke up to find a thermos on the crate at the entrance of the tent.

Inside the thermos was a cup of brown sugar water.

Today is the first day of my period.

Chapter 21

I looked at the package of brown sugar, my fingers pausing for a moment.

It was the brand I was used to drinking in college—old brown sugar produced in Yunnan, rarely seen on the market.

I didn't know where Ethan found it, but it didn't matter.

I threw both the brown sugar and the thermos into the trash can.

Teacher Zhang happened to pass by carrying a washbasin and saw this; she opened her mouth but didn't dare to ask.

In the morning, I went to teach at the village school as usual.

During the break, Ya ran over, took my hand, and said: "Teacher Clara, there is an auntie at the school gate who says she wants to find you."

I walked to the school gate and saw a woman standing there, wearing a plain dress with her hair hanging down, her face pale.

It was Elena.

I stopped: "What are you here for?"

Elena walked forward and fell to her knees with a thud.

"Clara, I'm begging you, let me do anything. I know I was wrong, I am tortured by nightmares every day, I can't go on living..."

She wept while kowtowing, her forehead hitting the gravel road, drawing blood.

The children gathered around to watch, and Teacher Zhang hurriedly chased them away.

I looked down at Elena, my gaze terrifyingly calm.

"You want to seek atonement?"

Elena nodded frantically.

"Then go and turn yourself in. Tell the police what you did to me back then, and what you did to Sophie."

Elena's face went white instantly.

"I... I didn't directly harm her... legally, I am not guilty..."

"Then what is the point of you kneeling here?" My voice was very soft, but every word felt like a knife, "You are only looking for peace of mind. But I tell you, Elena, you will never have peace of mind in this life."

I turned and walked away.

Elena knelt where she was, trembling as she cried.

In the distance, Ethan passed by on a bicycle, saw this scene, and stopped.

He walked over to Elena and looked down at her.

"Did you hear her? She won't forgive you. And neither will I."

Elena looked up, her eyes swollen like walnuts: "Ethan, do you hate me?"

"Yes." His voice was cold as ice, "But I hate myself even more. I hate that I didn't believe her back then."

He rode away without looking back.

Elena collapsed on the ground; after a long time, she was helped up by security guards and sent away.

That night, Ethan was on duty at the health center.

His phone rang; it was a call from Song Ci.

"Ethan, I heard you are in Yunnan chasing your wife? Have you caught her?"

Ethan didn't speak.

Song Ci laughed: "You've knelt, you've chased—does she care about you at all?"

"Did you call just to mock me?"

"No." Song Ci's voice suddenly turned serious, "I want to tell you that Elena just posted a social media update saying she is going to 'die to pay for her sins.' You'd better go and take a look."

Ethan hung up the phone and opened Elena's social media.

It was a photo of sleeping pills with the caption: "I'm sorry to everyone, I am leaving first."

What does her life or death have to do with him?

He wanted to leave it alone.

But his professional ethics and basic morality as a doctor made him rush to the hotel.

He could not ignore a human life.

When Ethan kicked open the hotel door, Elena had already swallowed half a bottle of sleeping pills and lay on the bed unconscious.

Beside her lay a scattered letter with the word "Suicide Note" written on it.

Ethan opened the letter, and inside was a name he had never heard before.

Clara’s biological father did not die of illness; he had been murdered.

Chapter 22

Ethan held the suicide note, his fingers trembling.

The ambulance arrived, and the medical staff lifted Elena onto the stretcher.

Ethan followed them to the hospital.

Stomach pumping and resuscitation—after a night of turmoil, Elena was brought back to life.

Ethan stood before the hospital bed and presented the suicide note to her.

"You wrote, 'Clara’s father did not die of illness, he was forced to death by Shen Boyuan.' What does this mean?"

Elena opened her eyes weakly, a bitter curve forming on the corners of her mouth.

"You saved me just to ask about this."

"Clara’s father was originally a porter at Shen Boyuan's company when he was struck by falling cargo from a high floor. At first, he only felt dizzy and reported it to his superiors, but Shen Boyuan said to just pay him a few hundred yuan in medical fees and be done with it."

"Later, he felt increasingly uncomfortable but couldn't bear the cost of a check-up. By the time it was discovered, it was already too late; he passed away directly from a brain hemorrhage."

"Her father was killed by your father."

Ethan’s face turned deathly pale.

Elena closed her eyes with difficulty.

"I only found out about these things later too. Ethan, your Shen family owes Clara a debt that can never be repaid in this lifetime."

Ethan backed away two steps, crashing into the wall.

He slowly slid down to the floor, wrapping his hands around his head.

He remembered the words Clara had said to him.

"You don't need to do this," "Things between us ended a long time ago"...

It wasn't an end; it was destruction. His family had completely destroyed hers.

Her father’s death, Sophie’s death—everything was linked to him.

He had thought it was just a matter of not believing her.

The next day, I received a call from Ash.

"Clara, have you seen the news? Ethan... he posted a long article on Weibo, explaining everything that happened back then. Including all the things his father did and the schemes Elena orchestrated. He said he is willing to bear all legal responsibilities and also..."

Ash paused: "He also said he is sorry for everything he did to you and that he will never bother you again in this lifetime."

I opened my phone; the top trending topic was: #GeniusDoctorEthanLongApologyArticle#

I clicked on it and saw the article.

Over five thousand words, written chaotically, with some parts incoherent.

But he had written everything down—his father's actions, Elena's schemes, his own distrust, his stupidity. The final paragraph had only one sentence: "Clara, what I owe you can never be repaid in this lifetime..."

"I will no longer harbor any delusions of a possibility between us."