Chapter 2: The First Goodbye....

The scent of antiseptic still lingered faintly in the room, but Rui Yi Cheng had already changed into his casual clothes. His hands moved with purpose as he packed a small bag—just the essentials. He didn’t want anything from the Ming family, nothing that smelled like coldness or silent suffering.

Mu Chen stood by the door, biting his lip. “Are you really going through with it?”

Yi Cheng didn’t pause. “Yes.”

“You haven’t even talked to him yet.”

“There’s nothing left to say.” His voice was calm, but inside his chest, his heart was thudding loud and fast.

Mu Chen sighed, stepping closer. “At least let me come with you to the lawyer.”

Yi Cheng zipped the bag closed and finally looked at his friend. “I would never ask for anyone else but you.”

The silence between them held a thousand unspoken things. Mu Chen had always been there—for every tear Yi Cheng never cried in front of others, for every late-night phone call, every time he needed someone just to listen. He was the only person Yi Cheng trusted now.

And trust, he had learned the hard way, was sacred.

It was late evening by the time Yi Cheng stood in front of Ming Yu Yuan’s study door. The halls of the Ming villa were quiet, just as they always had been. Expensive, spotless, and lifeless. Like a mansion built to impress, not to live in.

He knocked once.

“Come in,” came the voice from inside—deep, low, unreadable.

Yi Cheng pushed the door open.

Yu Yuan sat at his desk, reading through some documents. He looked the same—sharp suit, clean features, perfectly groomed. Cold as ever. He didn’t even look up at first.

“I need to talk to you,” Yi Cheng said simply.

Yu Yuan looked up then, brows faintly drawing together. “You should be resting.”

Yi Cheng placed the envelope on the desk. “I want a divorce.”

Silence.

The words lingered between them, heavier than anything they’d said in the past four years.

Yu Yuan’s eyes slowly dropped to the envelope. “Why now?”

Yi Cheng smiled faintly. “There’s no ‘now.’ There’s only ‘too late.’”

His hands were steady even though his heart wasn’t. But this time, he wouldn't beg for scraps of affection. He wouldn’t humiliate himself waiting for warmth that was never offered.

“You said nothing when they mocked me as a substitute. You never denied it. You never even asked how I felt,” Yi Cheng continued quietly. “You gave me a ring and a contract. Not a life. I won’t live like that again.”

Yu Yuan’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t speak.

Yi Cheng took a slow breath. “I’m pregnant.”

That made Yu Yuan flinch—visibly. His head snapped up, expression darkening. “You’re—?”

“Yes,” Yi Cheng said. “And I’ll be keeping the baby. But I don’t need you to raise them. I don’t need anything from you. Just your signature.”

Yu Yuan stood up, the chair scraping softly against the floor. “Don’t make impulsive decisions just because you’re upset.”

“I’ve been upset for four years,” Yi Cheng said, his voice soft but cutting. “Now I’m done.”

Yu Yuan took a step closer, as if he didn’t quite believe the scene playing out. “Yi Cheng—”

But Yi Cheng stepped back. One hand protectively resting on his abdomen. “I won’t be your substitute anymore. Not for Yi Ran. Not for anyone.”

For a second, something flickered in Yu Yuan’s eyes—confusion, or was it regret? But it vanished as quickly as it came.

“If that’s what you want,” he said, finally.

Yi Cheng nodded. “I’ll send my lawyer’s contact. I’ll be out of the villa by morning.”

That night, Yi Cheng couldn’t sleep.

Even though he had made the right decision. Even though he knew this was the only way to protect himself and his child. Even though he had already died once for this man.

His heart still ached.

Not because he still loved Yu Yuan—but because he had loved him so much.

He stared at the ceiling in the guest room Mu Chen had arranged for him. It was small, far from luxurious, but warm. Safe.

He placed his hand over his belly.

“I won’t let you feel unloved,” he whispered. “Not like I did.”

He meant every word.

Because this time, he was going to live. Not as someone’s shadow. Not as someone’s regret.

But as someone whole.

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To be continued......

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