The gallery was almost deserted, save for the sound of distant conversations and the soft hum of the city outside. Lanterns flickered, casting shadows on the stone pathways that wound through the sculpture garden. Yuyan wandered through it, her heels tapping softly against the cobblestones, a lingering ache in her chest. The morning's chaos had left her raw—confusion, fear, the flood of media accusations—and now, alone with her thoughts, the questions only multiplied.
She needed clarity. She needed truth.
But she wasn't prepared for the familiar figure standing under the iron archway, the one who had haunted her thoughts for weeks now.
"Yuyan."
His voice, soft and low, froze her in place. Her pulse quickened as she slowly turned, meeting the gaze of Zhao Lemin.
He looked different now—more guarded, more worn, but his eyes still held the same intensity that she remembered. The same depth. And perhaps even more, now that so much had changed between them.
She stayed silent, unsure whether to be angry, relieved, or completely confused by his sudden appearance.
He took a cautious step forward, his hands tucked into the pockets of his suit. "I know this must be a lot for you to take in."
"Where were you?" she asked, the words sharp, though she hadn't intended them to be.
Lemin's expression softened, his gaze filled with something unreadable. "I had to step back. For both of us. You don't know the full picture, Yuyan. Not yet."
"Then tell me," she pressed, but her voice wavered with uncertainty. "Tell me what's going on. Was it really Luchen who orchestrated all of this? Was he behind the video? The leaks?"
Lemin's eyes flickered with something—sorrow?—but it quickly hardened. He took another step closer, his gaze locking with hers, a quiet intensity building between them.
"Do you think it's that simple?" he asked, voice barely above a whisper. "Luchen might be pretending to care for you, but he's hiding something—something big. And he's been playing this game long before you even knew it was happening. The video, the marriage—everything. It's all part of his plan."
Her heart stuttered at the accusation. "No. That can't be true."
"I wish I could say it wasn't," Lemin replied. His voice softened as he took another step closer. "But you've got to see the truth, Yuyan. He's been manipulating you from the start. I don't know why, but I'm sure of it. And all this time, I've been trying to protect you from the storm he's caused."
Yuyan shook her head, unable to process the words. "Why should I believe you? After everything that's happened?"
Lemin's expression faltered for a moment, as if he were struggling to hold his composure. He reached out slowly, as if testing her response, his hand brushing against hers. "Because I care about you. I always have."
Yuyan pulled her hand back, though her breath hitched. She wanted to pull away, to run, but something in the way he looked at her, the pain in his voice, made her hesitate.
Before she could gather her thoughts, Lemin closed the distance between them. His hand brushed her cheek gently, the touch tender. "I never wanted this for you, Yuyan. I never wanted to hurt you. I just wanted you to see the truth."
Her chest tightened, emotions swirling inside her. This was Lemin. The man who had once been her anchor, her confidant—before everything had fallen apart.
And now, here he was, standing in front of her, claiming to be the one who cared. But could she trust him?
The air thickened, charged with tension. Lemin leaned in, his lips so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath. He reached out as if to pull her into an embrace, his arms wrapping around her waist.
"Yuyan, I—"
But just as his lips hovered near hers, a door slammed open behind them. The unmistakable sound of footsteps echoed through the gallery.
"Yuyan!"
Luchen's voice rang out like a warning, fierce and raw. The moment shattered as he stormed into the courtyard, his eyes locked on the scene before him. His expression was a storm—dark, conflicted, yet unmistakably possessive.
Lemin pulled back, his eyes flicking toward Luchen before shifting back to Yuyan. His lips tightened into a thin line. "It's always him, isn't it?"
Yuyan's heart pounded in her chest as she looked between the two men. "Luchen—Lemin—stop. Just stop."
Luchen's gaze never left Lemin as he stepped forward, his presence imposing. "What are you doing here?"
Lemin's smirk was cold. "I'm just trying to show Yuyan the truth, Luchen. Something you clearly don't have the courage to do."
"Enough," Yuyan cut in, her voice breaking between the two men. She felt caught in the middle of their battle, the weight of their conflicting emotions pressing down on her.
Luchen's eyes softened as he approached her, his voice barely above a whisper. "Yuyan, listen to me. Lemin's playing a game, and you're in the middle of it."
Yuyan shook her head, her heart torn. "I don't know what to believe anymore. All I know is that everything's been a lie."
Lemin's face hardened. "You're letting him turn you against me. You really think he cares about you? About us?"
Luchen clenched his fists. "I do care about her. I always have."
Lemin stepped back, his jaw tight. "Well, it looks like I'm not the only one with secrets."
Yuyan stood frozen, her chest tight with the weight of it all. The man who had once been her confidant, her friend, was now the one standing in front of her, painting Luchen as the villain. And yet… Luchen's words, his actions—they made her heart ache with a yearning she couldn't quite understand.
Lemin was right about one thing—everything had been twisted. The truth seemed out of reach, slipping through her fingers with every passing moment.
"I don't know what to do anymore," Yuyan whispered, her voice trembling.
Luchen's eyes softened, and he reached for her hand. "You don't have to do anything alone. I'm here."
But even as Luchen reached for her, Yuyan couldn't shake the feeling that the truth was much darker, much more tangled than either of them were willing to admit.
And somewhere in the shadows, Zhao Lemin watched them, his expression unreadable, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.
He'd said his piece.
Now, he would let the game unfold.