The sight of Su Qingyue fleeing in panic stirred an inexplicable restlessness in his heart.

His gloomy gaze fixed intently on the iced latte she had drunk, lingering over the faint crimson kiss mark on the cup.

The person who vanished without a trace four years ago could now even disturb his composure and self-control with something as trivial as the lipstick imprint left on a cup she’d once held.

Murong Xue took in her son’s distraught appearance, gently set down the porcelain cup, and said in a soft yet unwavering voice that brooked no evasion:

“Xiao Ci, tell me—what’s going on with Yueyue?”

Fu Sici slowly withdrew his gaze, his hand by his side clenching tightly. His throat worked convulsively as he spoke in a hoarse, unmistakable tone:

“She’s my ex-girlfriend.”

Murong Xue was stunned, her brows and eyes filled with astonishment, her fingers around the cup handle tightening slightly.

“Ex—ex-girlfriend?! The one from four years ago?”

He nodded silently.

She took a deep breath; how could Murong Xue possibly forget? Four years ago, Fu Sici, though just out of college, already seemed mature beyond his years, calm and composed in the face of adversity. His privileged background and striking good looks made him truly exceptional.

Yet for a full six months that year, he locked himself away in the villa, turning down every single task at the company, indulging in alcoholism and insomnia, his eyes filled only with sorrowful, helpless pain.

He became so despondent that even his mother couldn’t help but feel heartbroken, knowing he must have been hurt by love.

Later, when he finally pulled himself together, he turned cold and aloof, radiating an icy chill that struck fear into anyone who looked at him.

So it turned out that the innocent, sweet, and pure young woman he’d seen just moments ago was none other than the ex-girlfriend who had driven him to such despair and ruin.

“So how did you two break up back then?”

Mother Lu suppressed the waves of shock surging through her heart, speaking softly.

Fu Sici’s lowered eyelids churned with the bitterness, resentment, and helplessness he’d bottled up over the past four years.

His expression grew colder, his thin lips parted slightly, each word dripping with heartfelt pain:

“You might not believe it if I told you, but I really don’t know why. One day, she suddenly disappeared—no calls, no replies to messages. I searched everywhere she could possibly be, but didn’t find a single strand of her hair. Later, I received a letter saying she wanted to break up. By the time the letter arrived, she had already gone abroad.”

He spoke briefly, yet every word was steeped in the torment and searing pain of those days—a scar he’d kept hidden for four years, unwilling to touch.

Murong Xue looked into the darkness in his eyes and sighed softly, offering gentle words of comfort:

“Yueyue seems so pure and well-behaved—she doesn’t seem like the kind to end things without reason. Maybe there was some misunderstanding between you two back then. As someone who’s been through this before, I’d advise you to sit down and talk calmly about it. If you can clear things up, maybe you can pick up where you left off.”

“Talk? Hmph…”

Fu Sici curled his lips into a faint, self-mocking smile, his eyes instantly growing dim and heavy with deep loneliness.

“Look at how she fled just now—she practically ran eight zhang away from me, avoiding me at all costs. How could she possibly want to sit down and talk with me?”

He knew all too well the distance and panic in Su Qingyue’s eyes—clear rejection, a firm refusal to have anything more to do with him.

Seeing his forlorn state, Murong Xue shot out a piercing remark that struck right at the softest, most painful spot in his heart:

“Brave people enjoy life first—if you still love someone, go after them, chase them relentlessly! Isn’t there a famous saying online? A melon forced to grow may not be sweet, but it’ll quench your thirst. Some people, once you miss them, you really can never get them back. And besides, that girl is cute and beautiful, with a lovely personality. If you don’t grab her quickly and let someone else step in, you’ll regret it bitterly.”

Fu Sici remained silent, feeling as though something were blocking his chest, suffocating and making him uneasy.

Still, he agreed with his mother: a forced melon may not be sweet, but as long as it quenches his thirst, that’s good enough.

End of Chapter 9: “It’s none of your business! What does it have to do with you?”