Su Wan stood in front of the dead white jasmine for a long time.

The pot was cracked. The dirt was hard as stone.

The yellowed leaves curled into themselves. The stem lay crooked against the rim.

She remembered this plant.

The day Chen Feng moved in, he brought three things: a backpack, a cot, and a pot of white jasmine.

She'd put it in the corner of the balcony.

Never watered it once.

Chen Feng watered it himself.

Every morning before he left, and again when he got back.

Then Liu Cuilan decided the pot was in the way and moved it to the front door.

Chen Feng didn't say anything. He still watered it every day when he came home.

Last month, Liu Cuilan was watering the plants and "accidentally" poured the water that had killed her asparagus fern into the jasmine pot.

The white jasmine withered in three days.

Chen Feng saw it.

Didn't say anything.

Didn't change the soil, either.

From that day on, he stopped watering it.

At the time, Su Wan thought — he gave up so fast.

It was just a plant. Withered was withered.

Now she crouched down and touched the cracked soil.

No.

He hadn't given up fast.

He'd given up on everything here.

Including the plant. Including her.

She stood up.

Her phone rang.

Su Mingyuan.

"Wan'er, come to the office."

"What's wrong?"

"Someone sent something over. You need to see it."

---

Su Wan arrived at the company and pushed open the office door.

An envelope sat on the desk.

Kraft paper. No name on it.

Su Wan opened it.

Inside was a photograph.

A man — maybe in his forties, wearing a white shirt, standing in front of a building.

A sign on the building read: "Dingsheng Investment Group — Overseas Division."

On the back of the photo, handwriting:

"Ruan Wenfeng. Entered the country last week. Lives in the penthouse across from you. — An Old Friend."

Su Wan's hand trembled.

"Dad, who sent this?"

"No idea. The front desk received it. No return address."

Su Wan turned the photo over and over.

Three words on the back — "An Old Friend."

Her head snapped up.

"It's him."

"Who?"

"Chen Feng."

Su Mingyuan froze.

"Why would he send this?"

Su Wan didn't answer.

She picked up her phone and dialed Chen Feng's number.

It rang once and hung up.

She dialed again.

This time, it connected.

The line was very quiet.

"Hello."

Chen Feng's voice.

Su Wan gripped the phone. Her fingers tightened.

"That photo — what do you mean by it?"

"You saw it."

"I saw it. Why send it to me?"

"Because he lives across from you."

"You —"

"Him living across from you isn't a coincidence."

Chen Feng's voice was flat.

"He's coming for me. But your family is a convenient tool."

"You're calling us tools?!"

"Three years ago, you were my tool too."

The line went silent for a few seconds.

Su Wan couldn't speak.

"Su Wan. In these three years, what do I owe you?"

"—"

"I don't owe you anything."

"You let me stay in your house. I washed your dishes. Mopped your floors. Delivered food."

"Your family insulted me. I never talked back."

"Your brother racked up a mountain of debt. I settled it."

"What I owed, I've repaid."

"What I didn't owe, I've also repaid."

Chen Feng paused.

"From now on — don't call anymore."

"That jasmine. Withered is withered."

"So are people."

He hung up.

Su Wan stood there, phone still in her hand.

The screen slowly dimmed.

Su Mingyuan stood beside her, not knowing what to say.

A long time passed.

Then Su Wan spoke.

"Dad."

"Hm?"

"He's right."

"We never treated him like family."

"We just treated him like —"

She couldn't finish.

---

Su Wan walked out of the company and got in her car.

She drove slowly.

Ten minutes slower than usual getting home.

But that was fine.

There was no rush tonight.

When she got home, Liu Cuilan was still awake.

The living room light was on.

"Back?"

"Yeah."

Su Wan changed her shoes.

As she passed the balcony, she looked at the jasmine.

The new soil was still damp.

She crouched down and gently pressed the dirt.

It was soft.

She almost smiled.

She stopped at the gate of the complex.

The building across the street.

The top floor.

She looked up.

The curtains were drawn. She couldn't see anything.

She went inside.

Liu Cuilan was cooking in the kitchen. When she saw her come in, she called out:

"Dinner's ready!"

Su Wan didn't answer.

She walked onto the balcony.

In that corner, the pot was still there.

The dead jasmine was still there.

She crouched down and reached out to touch a withered leaf.

It crumbled in her fingers.

Turned to dust.

And then she cried.

Crouched on the balcony, crying without a sound.

Tears fell one by one onto the cracked soil.

Beside the pot, a business card had appeared. She didn't know when.

White.

She picked it up.

Only two words on the front —

"War God Hall."

She turned it over.

On the back, a line of text:

"If you need it, call this number."

Below it, a phone number.

She stared at the words for a long time.

Then she folded the card and put it in her pocket.

She didn't call the number.

But she didn't throw it away, either.

Some things are harder to keep than to throw away.

---

The next morning.

Su Wan stood in front of her closet and changed outfits twice.

The first was too formal. The second was too casual.

In the end, she put on the plainest white T-shirt and a pair of jeans.

Like the day she first met Chen Feng, three years ago.

She wrapped the bowl bottom in a handkerchief and put it in her bag.

As she was leaving, Liu Cuilan called from the kitchen:

"Where are you going?"

"Out."

"Breakfast —"

"Not hungry."

The door closed.

Liu Cuilan stood in the kitchen doorway, spatula in hand.

She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something.

In the end, she didn't.

---

Su Wan stood at the entrance of the abandoned industrial zone and thought she had the wrong address.

She checked the address Old Zhou had sent her three times.

No mistake.

This was it.

An old man sat in the security booth, scrolling on his phone — just like any ordinary neighborhood guard.

She walked over.

"I'm looking for... Chen Feng."

The old man didn't look up.

"Not here."

"Then this —"

She pulled out the handkerchief-wrapped bowl bottom.

"Could you return this to him?"

The old man finally looked up at her.

Then at the thing in her hand.

"You can go in and wait."

"He's here?"

"No. But you can wait."

Su Wan hesitated.

Then she walked in.

She wasn't going to War God Hall to beg him to come back.

She was going to return something.

The bowl bottom.

---

Su Wan waited an hour.

Chen Feng didn't come back.

Old Zhou walked over and poured her a glass of water.

"He's been busy lately."

"I know."

"And you still want to wait?"

Su Wan looked down at the bowl bottom in her hand.

The little blue fish was still there.

She set it on the table.

"Give this back to him."

"Tell him — I changed the soil on the jasmine."

She stood up and walked toward the door.

Stopped.

"Will he... come back?"

Old Zhou looked at her.

"Do you want him to?"

Su Wan was silent for a long time.

"...I don't know."

"Then why did you come?"

She left the bowl bottom on the table.

"Because I owe him."

She turned and walked out.

This time, she didn't look back.

---

Outside the industrial zone gates, she turned around once.

The building covered in withered vines had an indescribable look in the evening light.

It didn't feel abandoned.

It felt like it was waiting for someone to come back.

She got in her car and started the engine.

In the rearview mirror, the building grew smaller and smaller.

Until it was just a dot.

And then she understood something:

Some doors are easy to walk through.

Easy to walk out of.

But walking back in?

That's the hard part.

She held the steering wheel and paused at the intersection.

Then she stepped on the gas.

The car drove into the night.

The radio was playing an old song.

She couldn't make out the lyrics.

But she thought — at least today, she came.

She turned off the radio.

The car was quiet.

Quiet enough to hear her own breathing.

Three years.

For the first time, she felt like —

She'd done one thing right.

Too late.

But at least she'd done it.

She pulled over.

Turned off the engine.

Sat in the dark for a moment.

Then she took out her phone and sent Old Zhou a message:

"If he comes back, let me know."

She put the phone on the passenger seat.

Started the engine.

Drove home.

End of Chapter 6: The Ex-Wife Kneels