He looked at her, starting to doubt that things were as simple as they seemed. He pushed her towards the bed, making her sit down, pulled a chair, and sat opposite her, tightly holding her hands. He restrained his agitated emotions and patiently said, "Han Yan, are you reasonable?"

  "Yes," she said.

  "Then, all your reasons for refusing are invalid; do you know that?"

  She lowered her head.

  "Lift your head! Look at me!"

  She reluctantly raised her shes, but tears rolled down her marble-like pale cheeks. She began to sob softly, tears rolling down one by one, shattering on her colr. Bai Peiwen's heart ached; he frantically shook her hand, saying urgently, "Don't cry! Please don't cry! Han Yan, I'm not forcing you. How could I bear to force you? I just love you too much and can't bear the thought of losing you. Do you understand? Han Yan, dear Han Yan, please don't cry! I'm begging you, if you keep crying, you'll shatter my heart into pieces."

  She cried even harder.

  Bai Peiwen sat beside her, pulled her into his arms, patted her back, stroked her hair, kissed her cheeks, and murmured comforting words, begging her to stop crying.

  After a long while, she finally stopped crying, still sobbing as she said, "If... if I marry you, in the future... if you stop loving me, I will... I will have no pce to die."

  "How could you think that?" Bai Peiwen shouted. "Would I not love you? I love you madly; why would I not love you?"

  "Because... because I'm not as good as you think, not as... as..." she stammered, "not as pure."

  "How so?" "You don't understand my past."

  His grip on her arms stiffened.

  "Keep talking!" he ordered.

  "Don't force me to say it! Don't force me to say it!" she shouted, covering her face with her hands. "Please! Don't force me!" He pulled her hands away from her face, pushed her body back so he could face her directly, and stared intently at her face. He said, "Keep talking! I want to know what's going on!"

  She looked up at him, pleading.

  "Speak!" His tone was firm, impossible to resist.

  She closed her eyes, steeling herself. She recited as if memorizing lines:

  "Before I came to your factory, I was a dancer at the XX nightclub. I worked there for five months, saved up fifty thousand yuan, and gave it to my foster parents. If an accident hadn't happened, I might have continued doing it."

  She opened her eyes and looked at him. She had calmed down, and now that things were as they were, she was determined to face reality and reveal the most shameful chapter of her life. Although she knew deeply that once she spoke, she would lose him. She knew him too well; he was so superstitiously devoted to "perfection."

  "Go on!" he urged, his gaze now cold, and the fingers gripping her arm had turned icy as well.

  "One night, a guest invited me to have a te-night snack. He poured me a lot of alcohol, and I got drunk. When I woke up, I wasn't in my own home." She gazed at him sadly.

  "Do you understand now? I lost my innocence, and that was the day I realized how deeply I had fallen—my character, my dignity, my future... all became a bnk. I cried the whole day, and then I left that bright and noisy environment, moving into this shabby little house, determined to start over. That's when I came to your factory."

  He stared at her for a long time, and neither of them spoke. The twilight had already filled the room, and because the light was off, the entire room was dark and gloomy. She couldn't make out his expression, but her heart ached with his silence, an agonizing pain. Her heart grew cold, her head dizzy, and her passion froze into ice.

  She didn't know how much time had passed. Finally, he stood up and walked to the window. With trembling hands, he lit a cigarette. Facing the window, he exhaled rge puffs of smoke, remaining silent. It wasn't until the cigarette was finished that he suddenly turned around and walked to her side. He stood there, looking down at her, and said in a low, hurt, and sorrowful voice, "You shouldn't have told me this. You shouldn't have."

  She remained silent, and her dry eyes were once again overwhelmed by waves of tears.

  "I wish I had never heard these words. I wish this were just a nightmare," he continued, shaking his head in pain. "You're too cruel, Han Yan."

  After saying this, he walked to the table, picked up the car keys he had left there, and headed for the door. He didn't say goodbye or utter another word. He simply walked out. The sound of the door closing shattered Han Yan's st shred of composure and awareness. She staggered toward the bed, letting her tears flood out like a burst dam.