Inside the conference room, the atmosphere was heavy, like the low pressure before a storm.
Shen Yunmian sat at the head of the table, the projector's light casting a cold, sharp aura over her face—clearly, the topic under discussion displeased her.
"President Shen," one of the senior directors spoke first, his tone carrying clear disapproval, "regarding the decision to let Yu Corporation operate independently—we believe it is too hasty. President Yu… is still young and lacks experience managing a large group. Handing the company entirely back to her—doesn't that pose too great a risk? This involves many of Shen Corporation's investments and guarantees. If Yu Corporation runs into trouble, the losses would be significant."
His words were like a stone thrown into still water, stirring ripples.
Several executives echoed him, their concerns evident. They weren't entirely targeting Yu Sheng—it was more about safeguarding the group's interests, as well as worries that Shen Yunmian's personal feelings might influence her business judgment.
Shen Yunmian raised her eyes, her sharp gaze sweeping across the room, instantly silencing the noise.
"Yu Corporation was always the Yu family's business." Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried undeniable authority. "My wife, Yu Sheng, is its rightful heir. In the past few years, due to changes in the Yu family, Shen Corporation managed it out of goodwill. Now, returning it to its owner is only proper."
She paused, her fingers tapping lightly on the table, as if suppressing something.
"As for capability…" Shen Yunmian's tone clearly held bias in Yu Sheng's favor, "I believe President Yu is fully capable of managing Yu Corporation. And even if she isn't yet—do you think I, Shen Yunmian, can't teach my own wife?"
Her words landed firmly, carrying an almost resolute protectiveness.
The phrase "my wife" sounded like both a declaration and a warning.
The room fell silent. Faced with Shen Yunmian's rare stance, no one dared to object further.
"This matter is settled. No further discussion."
She stood up directly, ending the topic. "Meeting adjourned."
After the meeting, in the president's office.
The vast space was left with only Shen Yunmian. She leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples in exhaustion.
Her phone screen lit up, displaying the date.
There was just over a month left until their wedding anniversary.
The thought pricked her like a needle.
In previous years, Yu Sheng would start preparing far in advance, excitedly planning surprises, while she merely went along with it, sometimes even finding it troublesome. Now, that enthusiastic person had probably long forgotten the date—or no longer wished to remember it at all.
A thought surfaced uncontrollably: the lost wedding ring had always been a knot in her heart.
Perhaps getting a new pair could symbolically make up for something—even if it was only her own obsession.
She pressed the intercom and instructed Secretary Li, "Contact the Swiss jewelry designer Antoine Laurence. I want to custom-make a pair of wedding rings."
Secretary Li worked quickly and soon replied, "President Shen, I've contacted Mr. Laurence's studio. However…" her voice hesitated, "they said all of Mr. Laurence's works are one-of-a-kind. The design drafts are destroyed after completion to ensure uniqueness. If you want an identical pair recreated, you must provide the original ring as a template."
Shen Yunmian's heart sank.
That ring should have been in Yu Sheng's hand—but now she wasn't even sure if Yu Sheng still kept it.
To ask her for it? The thought made Shen Yunmian feel both embarrassed and hesitant.
Given their current relationship, what would Yu Sheng think? Mockery would be the least of it—more likely, she would refuse outright, which would be another blow to Shen Yunmian's already battered pride.
She spent the entire day restless.
For the rest of the time, Shen Yunmian found it almost impossible to focus on work.
Several times, she picked up her phone and opened that familiar chat window. The last message was still her one-sided greeting, left on read by Yu Sheng. Her fingertip hovered over the screen—but she couldn't bring herself to press send.
This kind of hesitation was an extremely unfamiliar experience for Shen Yunmian. In the business world, she was decisive and ruthless—when had she ever been so hesitant and second-guessing? But when it came to Yu Sheng, all her composure seemed to fail.
Sure enough, Yu Sheng gave no message the entire day.
This complete, being-ignored kind of cold neglect was more suffocating than an argument.
By evening, the torment of waiting set in.
Rarely, Shen Yunmian got off work on time and returned to Jiuxi Bay.
Aunt Yang had already prepared dinner; the aroma of the dishes temporarily dispelled some of the emptiness. Shen Yunmian looked at the exquisite food on the table, most of it her favorite flavors, yet she had no appetite at all.
"Miss, will Miss Yu be coming back for dinner today?" Aunt Yang asked cautiously.
Shen Yunmian's gaze dimmed as she shook her head. "Aunt Yang, there's nothing much to do here for now. Go back to the old house and take care of Grandma."
She didn't want Grandma to know their marriage had become so strained, nor did she want to appear embarrassed in front of Aunt Yang.
Aunt Yang sighed, wanting to say more but holding back in the end. She nodded. "Alright. Then Miss, take care of yourself. The food is kept warm in the pot."
After Aunt Yang left, the room fell into complete silence.
Shen Yunmian didn't turn on the lights. She sat alone in the dim living room as time passed second by second.
Seven, eight, nine… Yu Sheng still hadn't returned.
As she waited, a thought struck her without warning: in the past, had Yu Sheng also often been like this—alone in this vast house, waiting endlessly, going from full of anticipation to gradual disappointment, and finally to complete disheartenment?
She had never thought it was a big deal before.
She was busy, her career came first, and as her wife, Yu Sheng should understand and support her. But now, as she personally tasted what it felt like to be forgotten and set aside, she finally understood how unbearable it was.
Regret surged like a tide, nearly drowning her.
How had she once thought it was only natural? How had she ignored the way the light in Yu Sheng's eyes gradually faded?
Thoughts came flooding in. Exhausted, Shen Yunmian closed her eyes to rest.
At some point, she drifted into a heavy sleep on the sofa.
The night deepened; it was already past midnight.
Yu Sheng pushed open the door, carrying the chill of the night and deep exhaustion.
The motion-sensor light in the entryway lit up, its dim glow pushing back a small patch of darkness and illuminating the figure on the living room sofa.
Yu Sheng paused while changing her shoes.
It was Shen Yunmian.
She had actually fallen asleep on the sofa.
This realization made Yu Sheng freeze for a moment. In her impression, Shen Yunmian's routine was rigidly disciplined—unless it was for social obligations or extremely special circumstances, she would never fall asleep outside the bedroom, much less in such an unguarded posture.
Under the warm yellow light, Shen Yunmian lay on her side on the sofa, long lashes casting faint shadows beneath her eyes. Her usually meticulous hair was slightly loose, a few stray strands falling across her forehead, softening her sharp features.
She didn't seem to be sleeping peacefully; her brows were faintly furrowed, as if troubled by something.
Waiting for her? The thought had just surfaced before Yu Sheng immediately crushed it.
She averted her gaze, sneering inwardly. A pity tactic? Trying to soften her heart with this posture, to keep her willingly trapped in this marriage, playing the role of a loving wife together?
How ridiculous.
Yu Sheng recalled countless nights before her rebirth when she had waited alone in the empty living room just like this, going from hopeful to utterly disheartened. Back then, had Shen Yunmian ever felt even a trace of sympathy? Had she ever thought of coming home earlier?
And now she was putting on this act—for whom?
Expressionless, Yu Sheng took off her coat and hung it up. Her movements were deliberately light, not out of consideration, but simply because she didn't want any interaction at all. Without sparing a single glance, she walked past the sofa straight toward her bedroom, not giving even the slightest extra attention.
However, just as she was about to open the bedroom door, a hoarse murmur came from behind her.
"Sheng Sheng…"
The voice was very soft, carrying uncertainty, and a trace of stubbornness that was hard to detect.
Yu Sheng's hand on the doorknob paused for only a brief moment before she decisively turned it and slipped into the bedroom.
With a soft "click," the door closed, followed by the clear sound of it locking.
In the silent night, the sound was especially sharp, like an invisible barrier separating two worlds.
On the sofa, Shen Yunmian seemed to be stirred by the sound of the lock. She subconsciously blinked, but perhaps she was too exhausted—she didn't wake, only shifted slightly and continued sleeping.
The balcony window in the living room had not been closed.
The night wind slipped through the gap, carrying a piercing chill.
After an unknown amount of time, Shen Yunmian woke from the cold.
Her throat was dry and tight. Half-asleep, she raised her wrist—the watch showed four in the morning.
Her first thought was: Yu Sheng still hasn't come back? Her heart clenched as she struggled to get up, her steps unsteady as she walked toward Yu Sheng's bedroom.
The door was tightly shut.
She instinctively reached out to turn the doorknob—it didn't budge.
Locked from the inside.
Yu Sheng had come back.
She just didn't want to see her, didn't even want to wake her to say a single word.
At that moment, Shen Yunmian stood frozen outside the door, as if all her strength had been drained away.
An indescribable dull pain spread from her heart, quickly sweeping through her entire body, far worse than any physical ache. She could clearly feel the path of that pain, flowing through her veins, reaching her limbs, even her fingertips going numb.
She lifted her hand to touch her forehead—it was burning.
So she had a fever.
No wonder she felt so terrible, her whole body aching.
Leaning against the cold wall, her shoulders trembled uncontrollably in the darkness, yet no sound came from her throat.
After a long while, she barely managed to support herself, staggering back to her cold master bedroom.
Lying on the bed, her body burning, her consciousness gradually drifting away.
—
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