Jiang Li loved Shen Yan. She loved him for eighteen whole years.
They were childhood friends, growing up together in an old alley in the south of the city. She remembered all his likes and dislikes, did his homework, saved up to buy him the sneakers he liked, and stayed up talking with him until dawn after every breakup. She thought that if she waited long enough, he would finally look her way.
But he took everything she did for granted, then turned around and got involved with other girls.
In their senior year of high school, because someone else had planted a few words in his ear, he said to her in front of everyone, "Can you stop imagining things? You're really annoying me."
It rained hard that day. Standing at the mouth of the alley, Jiang Li tore up the diary she had kept for ten years, page by page. The ink ran with the rainwater into the drain.
A black umbrella appeared over her head. Lu Yanci, the transfer student who was always quietly reading at the end of the alley, said softly, "Jiang Li, come with me."
She nodded.
Only later did she learn that Lu Yanci hadn't moved to the south of the city by chance. He had watched her for an entire year, noting that she loved osmanthus cakes, which bookstore she visited on weekends, and when she caught a cold. One of his reasons for coming to the south of the city was to enter her world.
Every so-called coincidence had been carefully arranged by him long ago.
And his true identity was the sole heir to the Lu family, one of the capital's most powerful clans.
Years later, Jiang Li takes the stage to accept an award as an internationally renowned perfumer. Two men rise at the same time in the audience.
Shen Yan, now the capital's most eligible heir, says with red-rimmed eyes, "I'm sorry."
Lu Yanci presents her with her favorite chamomile and smiles. "Congratulations."
