Love is a mistake that cannot be escaped

Chapter 359 Success (The Finale)

As soon as the woman finished speaking, the entire banquet hall fell into complete silence; you could hear a pin drop. I could even hear my own heartbeat, each pound deafening.

"What do you mean?" Gu Yichen's voice trembled slightly, clearly stunned by the woman's words.

The woman took a deep breath, as if making a firm decision, her voice becoming resolute. "Yichen, you're not a child of the Gu family, you are..." She paused, turning her gaze to me, a hint of apology in her eyes, "...you are my child, and with your father..."

"Enough!" Gu Yichen suddenly roared, interrupting the woman. "Stop talking!"

"Yi Chen, listen to me..."

"I've said enough!" Gu Yichen abruptly shook off my hand, strode up to the woman, his eyes sharp. "What right do you have to say these things? What right do you have to be here?"

"I am your mother!" the woman exclaimed, grabbing Gu Yichen's arm. "How could I not be worthy?"

"Mother?" Gu Yichen sneered, shaking off her hand. "Are you worthy?"

Looking at the two people standing at attention, I was momentarily speechless. Gu Yichen's mother, this woman who had suddenly appeared, had so casually revealed the biggest secret of his life, pushing him into a dilemma.

I stepped forward and gently took Gu Yichen's arm. His body was trembling slightly, and his palms were icy cold. I looked up at him; his eyes were filled with pain and struggle, and I could almost feel the turbulent waves churning within him.

"Yichen..." I called his name softly, trying to offer him some comfort with my voice.

He slowly turned his head, his gaze falling on my face, and that look in his eyes broke my heart. I could see that he was filled with confusion and helplessness; he needed my support and my company.

“Let’s go,” I said softly, squeezing his hand.

He didn't speak, but simply let me lead him away from the banquet hall. The noise gradually faded away, and it felt as if only the two of us remained in the world. I led him to the hotel garden, and the cool night breeze caressed our faces, but it couldn't dispel the gloom between his brows.

"Why..." he finally spoke, his voice hoarse, "Why was my birth like this..."

I hugged him tightly, letting him lean on my shoulder. "This isn't your fault, Yichen. It's no one's fault."

“But, I…” he choked up, unable to speak. I knew he was blaming himself, blaming his existence for causing trouble and pain to those around him.

“Don’t think like that, Yichen,” I cupped his face and made him look into my eyes, “You are good, always have been good, you deserve to be loved and you deserve happiness.”

The pain in his eyes did not lessen at all. "But I'm not good enough for you, not good enough for this family..."

“No, Yichen, listen to me,” I interrupted him, “I love you, and it has nothing to do with your background or anything else. I only know that I love you, and that’s enough.”

He held me tightly, as if trying to meld me into his body. I could feel his inner struggle and pain, but there was nothing I could do but silently stay by his side, give him strength, and let him know that no matter what happened, I would be there for him, never leaving him.

His embrace, once my safest haven, now filled me with unbearable fear. He held me so tightly, as if trying to embed me into his very bones, or as if bidding me a final farewell. That night, he was unusually silent. I tentatively asked if he wanted to come to my apartment, but he shook his head, saying he wanted to be alone. I understood he needed space to process this sudden truth, so I didn't insist.

The next morning, I eagerly prepared his favorite congee with preserved egg and lean pork, only to find his door locked and unresponsive to my knocking. A sense of foreboding washed over me, and I hurriedly used my spare key to open the door. The empty room came into view, with only a letter on the bedside table bearing my name.

With trembling hands, I opened the envelope. Familiar handwriting met my eyes, yet each stroke felt like a sharp blade, piercing my heart. He told me he was going to find his "roots," to find his true self, and that he would come back to me once he found the answer. He said he was sorry for causing me so much pain, that he didn't deserve my sacrifice, and hoped I could forget him and start a new life.

The letter slipped from my hand, and my world seemed to collapse in that instant. I rushed out the door and ran frantically through every corner of the city, every place where we had once left our footprints, but I could not find him anywhere. My heart felt like it had been torn to pieces, each piece soaked in bitter seawater, unable to breathe.

My friends took turns comforting me, urging me to give up, saying that a man from a wealthy family like him could never give up everything for love. Their words pierced my heart like needles, but I refused to believe them. I know him; he's not that kind of person. He must have his reasons.

I started to adjust to life without him, forcing myself to immerse myself in busy work, trying to let time heal the pain in my heart. In the quiet of the night, I still can't help but think of him, his gentle eyes, his warm embrace, and the promises we made. I believe he will come back, back to my side. I'm willing to wait, until he finds his answer, until he returns.

Seven years have passed. I've transformed from a heartbroken young girl into a composed and self-assured scientist. My research projects have achieved groundbreaking progress, winning international awards. Countless media outlets have flocked to interview me, praising me as a "woman who changes the world." Under the spotlight, I remain calm and collected, yet my heart is undisturbed. Over the years, I've constantly pushed myself forward, using work to numb myself. But in the quiet of the night, his image and smile flood my mind like a tidal wave, overwhelming me.

I thought I would continue living like this forever, until one afternoon when a familiar figure entered my field of vision. He had lost a lot of weight, but his brows still held that familiar gentleness.

"Yan Yan, I'm back." He stood at the door of my lab, his voice hoarse but full of affection.

For a moment, I felt as if I had returned to seven years ago, to the rainy season when we first met. I longed to throw myself into his arms and tell him how long I had waited for him, how I had endured all these years. But my reason told me that I couldn't; I couldn't let myself get hurt again.

He seemed to sense my hesitation and gave a bitter smile. "I know I've kept you waiting for too long."

I took a deep breath, fighting back the stinging in my eyes, "It's good that you're back, it's good that you're back..."

We walked side by side in the sunset. His hand gently took mine, and my heart skipped a beat. I wanted to pull away, but I couldn't bear to.

“Over the years, I’ve traveled to many places and thought a lot.” He spoke slowly, his voice tinged with weariness. “I finally understand that it doesn’t matter whose child I was born to. What matters is that I want to be with you and spend the rest of my life with you.”

My tears finally broke free and streamed down my face. He gently pulled me into his arms. "Yan Yan, I'm sorry for making you wait so long. Let's get married, okay?"

I nodded frantically, tears soaking his clothes. Just as we were about to embrace and weep, he suddenly groaned and collapsed weakly towards me.

"Yichen! What's wrong?" I exclaimed and hurriedly helped him up.

His face was pale, his lips bloodless, and he gave a weak smile. "It's nothing, just an old ailment. I'll be fine after a rest."

"What's wrong with you?" I asked anxiously. "Come on, I'll take you to the hospital right away!"

He gripped my hand tightly, his eyes pleading, "Yan Yan, don't go, let me... let me see you one last time..."