The atmosphere was oppressive. Yan Xixi tried several times to break the ice, but his icy gaze thwarted each attempt. They finished their meal without uttering a single word. Hot tea was served—his usual favorite, Dragon Well. But he showed no reaction, maintaining an awkward silence. Unable to bear it any longer, Yan Xixi finally spoke. "I’ve already found a new place and paid the rent. Mr. Wan, I’ll move out tomorrow." "I know," he replied indifferently. "This is our last dinner." "Thank you, Mr. Wan." "What is there to thank me for?" She had only meant it as a polite remark, but his counter-question left her momentarily startled. He laughed, his eyes inscrutable. "Yan Xixi, why thank me? For supporting you through university? Didn’t you also say you paid your dues for that? We owe each other nothing." Isn’t that the truth? she thought. In this world, no one could take advantage of another indefinitely without consequence. It made no sense for Wan Donglin to act when he was about to marry another woman! Who was this act for? But she didn’t contradict him—she rarely confronted him directly. She simply opened her suitcase and added a few more odds and ends. Finally, looking around, she remembered something and took out a credit card and car keys. "Mr. Wan, I no longer need these." He didn’t even glance at them. She placed the items on the coffee table in front of him. Just as she was about to turn away, she saw him toying with the fuzzy tiger-head shoe in his right hand. Nᴇw ɴovel chaptᴇrs are published on noⅴelfire.net The sight of that large pile of children’s toys had unnerved her. She didn’t understand why he was still toying with the tiger-head shoe now. Shouldn’t all these things just be thrown away? "That child has been dead for forty-nine days. So pitiful..." What did forty-nine days matter? "This Ghost Festival, I must burn some spirit money for him. Sigh, truly pitiful..." Yan Xixi hadn’t realized it was already the Ghost Festival. The more Yan Xixi listened, the worse she felt. There are countless miscarriages in the world, not to mention stillbirths, which she couldn’t control. What was Wan Donglin trying to say with these words now? She felt a flicker of anger but suppressed it. Suddenly, Wan Donglin looked up, his gaze fixed on her. "Yan Xixi, the truth is, you never wanted that child, did you?" He pressed, "You never wanted him, did you?" Suppressing her anger, she replied, "Mr. Wan, it wasn’t up to me. The doctor also said it was natural selection..." "Not up to you?" He cut her off, laughing, his eyes again inscrutable. "If it wasn’t up to you, then who was it up to?" "Mr. Wan, what do you mean by that?" SLAM. He pulled something from the tiger-head shoe and threw it onto the table. "Yan Xixi, don’t you know what this means?" Yan Xixi’s face turned deathly pale when she saw what it was. Wan Donglin glared at her, his eyes bloodshot. "The medication the doctor prescribed to prevent miscarriage—so you didn’t take a single pill? And now you say you don’t know what this means?" They were pills to increase HCG levels. The doctor had prescribed a month’s supply. Yan Xixi had taken them for a few days at first, but the medication was potent and constantly made her nauseous and vomit. Later, for some reason she couldn’t recall, she stopped taking them. She felt they weren’t necessary and had casually tossed them deep into a drawer. Over time, she forgot all about them. She never expected Wan Donglin to find those pills.