Chapter 2

Looking at the name I had scribbled hastily at the end, I lowered my eyes and refused to look at him, hunching my shoulders because I did not want to expose my weakness.

“Later, Assistant Liu will take you to the hospital for an examination and surgery preparation.”

“Mr. Su, Mr. Cen’s flight is about to land.”

I glanced over without meaning to, and his brows and eyes were full of joy, the corners of his mouth rising, while bitterness filled my heart.

Lin Qing was Mo Ji’s first love, and because his body was frail, he had been recuperating abroad.

As for me, I had grown up with Mo Ji since childhood, and I was his first love as well as the substitute who could never be seen in the light.

We were adopted by Zhou Yi, and our finances were not good, so when we were young, people often bullied him, and after I stood up for him, I was dragged into an alley outside the school gate and beaten by a group of people.

He was teased, and his books were scribbled all over.

When money went missing in class and he was misunderstood, I was also the one who went to the principal to demand justice for him, making such a fuss that I almost got expelled.

All the kindness I gave him still could not compare to the pen Cen Xi gave him when he forgot to bring one to an exam.

“Don’t run around at home.”

Perhaps because Mo Ji saw the cake on the table, or perhaps because he saw that I had signed the consent form, his tone was rarely gentle.

I nodded seriously, watched him take the car keys and leave, then opened the cake and tasted the sickly sweet cream.

He remembered my birthday, but he forgot the words he had once said.

Those bright, smiling eyes were still in my mind, and he had covered my eyes as he led me into the room, holding a small cake as if it were a treasure.

There was one candle stuck in it, the flame swaying, and he smiled shyly and bashfully, saying, “Linlin, may you be safe every year, and may we stay together year after year.”

He had hugged me and prayed for my safety and happiness too.

All I could hear was my heart pounding wildly.

Bite after bite of sweet, greasy cream, I forced myself to swallow it, and a pile of mango was still left.

I had prepared it specially, and at noon, I had made the food he liked, while the cake was brought back by Xiao Liu.

He had probably casually ordered someone to buy it, and I was allergic to mango.

Why did love disappear in an instant?

It was not until the early hours of the morning that Aunt Zhang buried her hands in her apron and said with both hesitation and concern, “Niannian, it’s getting late, and staying up is bad for your health, so Mr. Mo probably won’t be coming back.”

She brought me a cup of warm milk, and I responded with a smile.

The maid beside her sneered coldly, “Aunt Zhang, Mr. Mo won’t be coming back tonight, and it’s a shame about this whole table of food.”

This maid wanted to climb into his bed, and she did not know Mo Ji’s preferences, so she always found chances to pick fights and tried openly and secretly to squeeze me out of the villa.

The destination of the dishes I had prepared with care was the trash can.

Watching them clean up, even throwing the plates into the trash can, I was still hoping to hear the roar of a car engine.

I hoped he would come back and give me his blessing, even if it was only a happy birthday.

Watching the hands of the clock turn, I sat in front of the desk and looked at the chart I had once made.

He did not spend my birthday with me, so ten points deducted.

He bought me a mango cake, so twenty points added.

After repeatedly deleting and changing the chart, I looked at the last two lines, and if the chart was filled or the score dropped to zero, I would stop liking Mo Ji.

Before he liked Lin Qing, he was very good to me.

Only later, he no longer touched me, and the gaze he cast on me seemed to be missing someone else too.

I knew all of this, but I had no way to control my feelings...

I could not bear to leave him, and even if I was only a replacement... it was still good enough to stay by his side.

I always comforted myself through his actions, telling myself that he still remembered me in his heart.

The chart was deleted and changed again and again, and the points were never fully deducted.

Stroking the notebook in the quiet room, I curled up and missed the nineteen-year-old Mo Ji.

He would have hugged me with heartache and refused to let me suffer.