The silence in Lin Nian'an's apartment was almost unnatural. For the first time in days, the storm outside had died down, leaving only the quiet hum of the city beneath the clouds. But inside, her world was still spinning.
She sat curled up on the sofa, knees pulled to her chest, Gu Chenyan's words from the night before echoing in her mind.
"You really think I don't care?"
"You think I haven't been hurting every day since I left you behind?"
He had looked at her like a man on the edge. Like he had been holding himself together by the thinnest of threads.
And then she had told him to leave.
Now, in the stillness of the morning, she was wondering if she had made a mistake.
But the truth was—what hurt wasn't what he had said. What hurt was that part of her had believed him.
Her phone buzzed on the coffee table. It was a message from Wen Zhi.
"Nian'an, the press conference is happening in 2 hours. Are you still coming?"
She stared at the screen for a long moment before typing back:
"I'll be there."
She got up and went to get dressed, moving like someone trying to hold herself together with dignity. The mirror didn't lie—there were dark circles under her eyes, her lips pale from lack of sleep, her posture just slightly slumped from emotional exhaustion.
But her hands were steady.
She chose a fitted black blazer over a deep red blouse, minimal makeup, and pulled her hair back into a sleek ponytail. She wasn't going to show up as someone broken. If the world wanted to tear her apart, they would have to work for it.
Downstairs, her driver was already waiting. As the car pulled away from the curb, her fingers clutched the edge of her purse tightly.
This wasn't just a press conference. It was a battlefield.
—
The room was already half-full when she arrived—journalists, flashing cameras, PR assistants with headsets. Wen Zhi greeted her with a tight smile and whispered, "You're brave for coming."
Lin Nian'an didn't answer. She was already scanning the room, her expression unreadable.
And then, her breath caught.
Gu Chenyan was standing near the back of the room, flanked by two security personnel, his gaze fixed on her like she was the only person in the room. He was in a charcoal grey suit, no tie, the top button of his shirt undone. His usual calm, composed exterior had fractures—tension in his shoulders, a storm behind his eyes.
Why was he here?
Wen Zhi noticed and muttered, "He showed up ten minutes ago. Said he wasn't leaving until he heard you speak."
Nian'an inhaled slowly. She didn't have time to process it. The moderator was already calling her name.
She stepped up to the podium, lights flashing, cameras rolling, and the dull roar of whispers quieting to anticipation.
"Thank you all for being here," she began, voice steady, "I won't take much of your time. I just wanted to address the rumors about my resignation, the speculation about the internal disputes in our company, and the allegations made against my personal integrity."
Her voice didn't tremble. Her spine stayed straight. But deep down, her heart was pounding.
"I'm not resigning," she said. "I've worked for everything I've built, and I'm not walking away because people are uncomfortable with a woman in power. As for the rest—believe what you want. I don't owe anyone a confession for surviving what I've been through."
The room was quiet. Some of the reporters shifted uncomfortably. Others looked intrigued.
"I know who I am," she said. "And that's enough."
She stepped down, walked past the cameras, the noise, the flashes.
And came face to face with Gu Chenyan.
He didn't say anything at first. Just looked at her with eyes that held too many unsaid things.
"You didn't need to come," she said softly.
"I did," he replied. "Because I know I'm part of why you had to give that speech."
She said nothing.
"I should've protected you back then," he said. "I should've stood by you, but I let my own pride get in the way."
His voice was low, private, meant only for her.
"I'm sorry."
Nian'an shook her head, eyes glimmering. "You think sorry changes the fact that I was left alone when it mattered?"
"No," he said. "But maybe it's the start."
She looked at him, and for a second, the hurt gave way to something else. Something softer.
Maybe. Maybe not.
She walked past him.
But he didn't follow.
—
That night, Lin Nian'an stood on her balcony, overlooking the lights of the city. The wind was cool against her face, the silence not as heavy as it had been that morning.
She thought of him.
Of everything between them.
Of everything that was still left unsaid.
And then she picked up her phone and opened a blank message.
She typed:
"Thank you… for coming today."
She hovered over the send button for a long moment before deleting it.
Some things could wait.
For now, she just wanted to feel the quiet. The peace. The ache that reminded her she was still alive.
Tomorrow would come.
And with it, another storm.