Shen Qinglan had lost count of how many times she had locked herself in the bathroom and refused to come out. When Jiang Beichen finally kicked down the door, the bathtub was awash in red. “Shen Qinglan! You'd rather die than stay with me? Have you really gone this far?” In the end, Jiang Beichen broke off their engagement and left the country, while Shen Qinglan immersed herself in what she thought was a happy life. She had no idea she'd destroyed her own happiness with her own hands, and all she had to show for it was deceit. She thought nothing could hurt more, but the news of Jiang Beichen's death was the final blow.
At the seaside, someone covered Shen Qinglan's mouth and shoved her into the ocean. She let the water swallow her. As her consciousness began to fade, Jiang Beichen's figure appeared before her, hazy and indistinct. His face was furious as he shouted her name. “Shen Qinglan!” The violent sound of choking on seawater jolted her back to awareness. Through her blurred vision, Jiang Beichen's face came into focus. Shen Qinglan lifted a trembling hand and gently touched his cheek. The warmth felt utterly real. She snatched her hand back, and the next moment, a crisp slap rang out. She had struck herself hard across the face. The pain made her realize she had truly returned to the day she had tried to kill herself by slitting her wrists. But exhaustion overwhelmed her, and she fainted in Jiang Beichen's arms.
When she woke again, Jiang Beichen was already on his way to the airport. Shen Qinglan rushed there, her heart filled with despair. Then a familiar voice sounded behind her. “Shen Qinglan, what are you making a scene about now?” Shen Qinglan pushed herself up from the ground and threw herself into Jiang Beichen's arms, clutching his waist and sobbing. “Jiang Beichen, let's go home. I won't make a scene again.”
