Wei Xu was finally found on a remote mountain outside Haicheng. The Ji family drove to the foot of the mountain and made their way up, eventually spotting the boy at the cliff’s edge on the summit.
He stood there, his clothes fluttering in the wind, his entire body swaying precariously.
Qiu Sang’s heart felt as though it had been clenched in a fist. She cried out, her voice breaking, “Wei Xu, don’t do anything foolish! Come here—come here now!”
Wei Xu remained where he was, his gaze fixed on the distant crowd. He wiped his tears with the back of his hand. “I’ve already made up my mind. This isn’t foolish. I just hope… after I’m gone, you can finally be happy.”
Qiu Sang’s world shattered.
Her lips trembled, but no words came out.
Ji Yanting steadied her by the shoulders, his voice firm. “Whatever is between Qiu Sang and me has nothing to do with you. Step away from the edge.”
Wei Xu shook his head.
How could it have nothing to do with him?
The tragedy of Qiu Sang’s life had begun the moment she became pregnant with him.
If he died, so many people would be freed. He should have realized this sooner, shouldn’t he?
He turned away.
Then, a cool voice cut through the silence. “If you really wanted to die, you would have jumped already. You waited this long because you wanted someone to find you, didn’t you?”
Rong Yu took a step forward. “The affairs of adults have nothing to do with a child like you. Don’t force responsibility onto yourself. Do you really think your death would guarantee Ji Yanting and Qiu Sang’s happiness? That’s hardly fair, is it?”
Her voice was icy. “Qiu Sang’s life has already been filled with suffering. If you jump now, right in front of her, you’ll destroy whatever’s left of it.”
While Wei Xu stood frozen, Rong Yu lunged forward, dragging him away from the cliff. Ji Yanting quickly moved to restrain him.
Old Master Ji hurried over to help Rong Yu up.
Qiu Sang’s throat tightened with emotion.
She had assumed her son harbored the same hatred she did.
She had assumed he despised her for pursuing love, that he would do anything to ruin it.
Never had she imagined… he would do this for her sake.
Even after she abandoned him for over a decade, even after she made it clear how much she resented his existence… had he still cared for her as his mother?
“Qiu Sang,” Rong Yu said gently, “now that Wei Xu is safe, will you finally tell Ji Yanting the truth?”
Qiu Sang took a deep breath, her voice barely above a whisper. “When I was in middle school, a man dragged me into an alley and… assaulted me. Later, I found out I was pregnant. My parents were ashamed. They forced me into a marriage to save face. That’s why… I became a mother so young.”
Revealing the scars of her past was agonizing.
Her lashes trembled uncontrollably.
Ji Yanting’s heart ached as if gripped by an invisible hand. He couldn’t fathom the strength it must have taken for her to claw her way out of that abyss.
He reached out, wanting to hold her—
But Qiu Sang instinctively flinched away, as if recoiling from something repulsive.
Ji Yanting’s hand stilled.
For the first time, he felt it clearly: Qiu Sang didn’t trust him. She didn’t love him enough.
Rong Yu took Qiu Sang’s hand, her voice soothing. “You left that place physically, but you never truly escaped. You’re still that wounded girl from all those years ago.”
Qiu Sang let out a choked sob.
She lowered her head, pressing her face into Rong Yu’s palm, weeping silently.
With Ji Yanting, she had always held back, never daring to reveal the full extent of her past.
But with Rong Yu… it was as if she had found shelter under a great tree—one that could bear the weight of her pain without judgment.
Rong Yu wiped her tears. “There’s only one way to move forward. You have to dig out the festering wound, drain the poison. Otherwise, you’ll always be that fourteen-year-old girl, unable to form real connections with anyone.”
Qiu Sang looked up, dazed. “How?”
“Report it.” Rong Yu’s words were deliberate. “The statute of limitations hasn’t expired. You can still seek justice.”
Slowly, clarity returned to Qiu Sang’s eyes.
Back then, after the assault, her mother had suggested going to the police—but her father refused. He feared the scandal, the shame of public scrutiny.
Had she been afraid too?
Yes.
But now… the fear didn’t seem so overwhelming.
Better to face the past than to live forever in its shadow.
“I’ll talk to my family,” she said quietly. “I’ll ask them to testify.”
“You don’t need them.” Wei Xu stepped forward, his dark eyes unwavering. “I’m the evidence. I’m enough.”
Qiu Sang met his gaze.
For the first time, she truly looked at her son. His eyes resembled hers, but his were darker, his lashes framing a face marked by scars. This child… had suffered too, hadn’t he?
“Thank you,” she whispered.
Wei Xu pressed his lips together. This was the first time she had spoken to him without bitterness.
He turned away. “It’s what I should do.”
Ji Yanting approached, but before he could speak, Qiu Sang smiled at him. “Yanting, I need to settle this part of my past. It might cause a lot of trouble. Even though I’m not a public figure, my work is tied to the industry. For both our sakes, I should resign.”
Ji Yanting’s throat felt parched.
Qiu Sang had once trended online—many fans recognized her. If she remained a talent agent, the investigation would inevitably leak, subjecting her to further pain.
He nodded stiffly. “Alright.”
After a pause, he added, “I’ll arrange for two lawyers to assist you. Please… don’t refuse.”
He had wanted to say he would go with her.
But his fame was a liability. If he were recognized, it would only amplify the scrutiny.
He had grown so accustomed to Qiu Sang handling everything for him.
Now, faced with her suffering, he didn’t even know how to help.
Qiu Sang exhaled, her expression serene. “There’s no need to see me off. Goodbye.”
When she had been drowning in darkness, Ji Yanting had reached out.
Starved for love, she hadn’t been able to refuse his affection.
Yet her body still recoiled from him.
Had she ever truly loved him?
She didn’t know.
Turning to Rong Yu and Old Master Ji, she bowed slightly. “Thank you, Miss Rong. Thank you, Old Master Ji.”
Old Master Ji’s expression was complicated.
He couldn’t understand why his grandsons’ love lives were so fraught.
First, Ji Zhouye with that mother-daughter pair from the Lan family.
Now, Ji Yanting with Qiu Sang and her son.
The Lans were schemers. Qiu Sang and Wei Xu carried too much baggage. Neither match was suitable.
Qiu Sang left with Wei Xu.
By evening, Ji Yanting informed Rong Yu that Qiu Sang had returned to her hometown to file a report. With the help of the Ji family’s lawyers, the process went smoothly—Wei Hua, the perpetrator, was arrested on the spot.
Ji Yanting grew increasingly withdrawn.
Rong Yu sighed.
A-Yan had fallen for the gentle, composed facade Qiu Sang presented. But from the way he clung to her—much like his attachment to Zhou Yachen—it was clear he sought a mother’s love more than a lover’s.
Was that really love?
She wasn’t sure.
For Qiu Sang, A-Yan was her salvation.
But love that isn’t pure enough naturally bears no fruit.
"Chuan, Aye, your second brother is sinking into gloom," Rong Yu said. "Any ideas to lift his spirits?"
Ji Zhouye set down his pen. "When big brother broke up with Lan Rouxue, he drowned his sorrows in alcohol and partied at the bar. A night out fixed him right up. Come on, second brother, fourth brother—let’s go have some fun tonight. Grandma’s treat!"
Ji Jingchuan rarely joined the Ji family for outings, but this time, he agreed without hesitation.
Ji Yanting waved a hand dismissively. "I’m a public figure. I shouldn’t go."
"Stop making excuses," Ji Zhouye pulled him up. "Dreamweaver Bar caters exclusively to elite patrons. In our circle, who cares if you’re a celebrity? Let’s go!"
