Cheng Li stood frozen in place, her face pale as a sheet, feeling both desperate and incredibly humiliated.
In his eyes, she was dirty and vile.
Later, He Chen, holding onto Yin Mo, turned and walked up the gangway. In Cheng Li's despairing gaze, He Chen said his final two sentences.
The first: "Cheng Li, what I loved about you back then was your unique qualities."
The second: "It was the qualities you pretended to have, not you."
In other words, Cheng Li, I never loved you.
The cabin door in front was slowly closed by the flight attendants, cutting off Cheng Li's vacant stare.
Before the flight took off, He Chen watched as Cheng Li was escorted away by airport security personnel, and with a stern face, he instructed over the phone: "Don't let her appear in front of Yin Mo again."
For many years after, Yin Mo never saw Cheng Li again.
She wasn't dead, yet each day felt like a year, living was worse than dying.
...
