The days that followed Su Ruoyan's meeting at Mo Group felt like an unsettling calm before a storm. Outside, the media frenzy around the "abandoned wife" scandal raged on, but within the peaceful confines of the Su residence, she immersed herself in a life shaped by newfound tranquillity.
Yet, despite her efforts to focus, the echo of that morning lingered. Mo Zhenyan's voice had been gentle yet steady, lingering in her mind like an old, cherished song.
He hadn't spoken anything truly inappropriate, but the way he had looked at her, as if he could see beyond the broken facade the world had painted, had stirred emotions that she thought she had once buried. For him, she is not just the woman whom circumstances had battered, but also that girl he once held dear in silence.
However, this Su Ruoyan is no longer the girl he yearned for; she had laid her innocence to rest, along with the remnants of her marriage.
Three days later, a call from Mo Group disrupted her quietude. His assistant, impeccably professional, conveyed President Mo's request for a follow-up meeting to discuss the foundation's collaboration.
After a brief pause, she replied, "Please inform President Mo that I'll be there tomorrow morning."
Once the call ended, her reflection caught her eye in the mirror. Poised and resolute, that once timid girl was replaced by a woman of quiet determination.
The next morning, sunlight danced through the glass walls of Mo Group's upper floors. As she entered the executive lounge, the air was infused with the rich aroma of coffee and the fresh scent of lilies, subtle hints of elegance that mirrored him.
Mo Zhenyan was already there, standing by the window with a tablet in hand. He turned as she entered, a calm smile easing the room's formal atmosphere.
"Miss Su," he greeted warmly. "Thank you for coming."
"President Mo," she replied, her voice smooth and steady.
He gestured towards the breakfast spread laid out on the table. "I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of ordering for us."
She nodded politely. "You always had a knack for remembering the details others tend to overlook."
"Only when it's someone who matters," he said lightly, his gaze holding hers with a penetrating warmth.
They began discussing business about Mo Group's new philanthropic initiative, Su International's commitment to sustainability, and potential collaborations with the Gu Foundation. Each conversation was sharp and deliberate, business-like, yet beneath the surface, memories of laughter and simpler days hovered quietly.
As their discussion wound down, Mo Zhenyan leaned back, studying her with appreciation. "You've changed, Ruoyan. It's not just in your demeanour, your very essence has also evolved. You're stronger now."
A faint smile crossed her lips as she set down her cup. "My pain has reshaped me into who I am today."
Understanding flickered in his eyes as he nodded. "It's hard to believe he let you go without recognising the true you."
Her expression remained steady, unyielding. "You should believe it because the world is full of scoundrels. It craves tragic stories, while I choose raw truth, even when it stings."
His jaw tightened, emotions threatening to break through his composed exterior. "He didn't deserve you, not even for a moment."
Ruoyan cast her gaze downward, lost in contemplation. "Maybe he did, or maybe he didn't. But one thing I've learned, love without respect is simply a slow death."
Zhenyan's fingertips grazed the rim of his glass. "And yet, you've emerged from that death."
She met his gaze with unwavering strength. "I did. That's why I won't allow anyone, not even you, to perceive me as the woman who needs saving."
He blinked, momentarily taken aback, and a rueful smile crept onto his face. "I would never see you as a damsel in distress."
"Good," she said softly, rising from her seat. "Because the woman I've become doesn't seek sympathy. I want to find my purpose and rebuild myself, and I'd prefer to do it on my own."
He stood as well, his tall figure casting a protective shadow over her. "Ruoyan," he said softly, "accepting care from someone isn't a sign of weakness."
"Maybe," she replied, a flicker of thought in her eyes. "But for now, I choose to walk this path alone."
For a moment, silence enveloped them, the air around them thick with unspoken words and shared memories.
Then she smiled with a fleeting, distant expression. "Thank you for reaching out again, President Mo. I appreciate the partnership you've offered and the fact that you remember."
He exhaled slowly, the tension in his body loosening just a fraction. "Is that all I get? Just a little gratitude?"
Her gaze met his with gentle firmness. "That's all I can offer you right now, Mo Zhenyan."
As she stepped into the corridor, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, Mo Zhenyan lingered by the window, watching her silhouette fade into the elevator's shadows.
His grip tightened on the edge of the table. That gratitude, coupled with the distance, felt like a wall she had meticulously built, brick by brick. Yet even behind those barriers, Su Ruoyan's presence lit up the room like sunlight filtering through glass.
He recalled the girl who once smiled with ease, who had gifted him a handmade bookmark on his graduation day, whispering shyly, "So you won't forget me when you read."
Now, here she stood again as a whole person, yet impossibly out of reach.
Outside, the afternoon sun poured warmth onto the bustling city, voices mingling in the air. Ruoyan walked through the plaza with purpose, pausing beneath the imposing Mo Group sign. Her reflection danced in the glass, a momentary glimpse of her own resolve.
She no longer harboured any animosity because, for her, hate was a luxury she could no longer afford and emotion, in its complexities, had become a costly burden.
Now she bore a quiet strength, calm, deliberate, and unyielding.
While he had offered solace, she returned it with clarity, which felt like more than enough.
Gazing up at the sprawling skyline, her eyes unwavering, she whispered to herself, "Every step forward has to be mine."
That evening, as city lights twinkled against her window, her phone buzzed with a single message that sent a thrill through her.
Mo Zhenyan: I understand your intentions in creating space between us, Su Ruoyan, but let me make this clear, I'm not going to let go anymore. For me, losing you once was enough, and I won't put myself through that again. I'll wait for you to be ready, Su Ruoyan. No matter how long it takes and when you're ready, know that I'll be right here, always at your back, ready to stand by your side.
She read the words in silence, a bittersweet smile teasing her lips, almost soft and tender, before she locked her screen and set the phone down gently.
Outside, the world sparkled, brimming with both promise and danger.
Closing her eyes, a serene calm enveloped her. For now, she didn't need anyone standing by, waiting for her.
Yet deep within, a flicker of warmth stirred a feeling she refused to name just yet.