Chapter 63: Xia Ling and Jiang Ciyou at Fourteen

Xia Ling mentioned the baby in her belly.

Yan Feng's expression finally softened. His gaze landed on Xia Ling’s slightly rounded abdomen.

“You fell twice today. Are you alright?”

Xia Ling was still half-slumped on the ground, one hand pressed protectively over her stomach. “Ah Feng, my stomach hurts a little.”

Yan Feng hurried to help her up. Soon after, Xia Ling was seated in the passenger seat of the car. Yan Feng’s face remained tense, as if he was still struggling to restrain his emotions.

“Xia Ling, all these years, I thought I knew you well, but today I realized how unfamiliar you are to me. Was your gentleness, kindness, and innocence around me all just an act?”

“Xia Ling, you make me feel like I don’t know you at all now.”

Xia Ling lowered her head, tears rolling down in big, heavy drops. Anyone who saw her in such a pitiful state would feel their heart ache.

Yan Feng absentmindedly pulled out a tissue and handed it to her. Xia Ling took the tissue, glanced cautiously at Yan Feng, then quickly bowed her head again.

Clutching the tissue, she spoke in a hoarse voice.

“Ah Feng, I grew up in a place like Misty Alley. If I were only gentle, kind, and innocent, I’m afraid I would have died a thousand times over.”

Yan Feng’s eyes flickered.

Misty Alley sounded beautiful by name, but in reality, it was the most marginal slum in Rong City, filled daily with violence, bloodshed, and all kinds of shadowy, filthy dealings.

He knew about Xia Ling’s past, but had never asked for details.

Xia Ling continued, tears streaming as she spoke, “My mother was insane, my father crippled. From the moment I could remember, my mother tortured both me and my father in every way. I never had my own room; my clothes, shoes, even my school bag were all picked from the garbage heap. I felt there was nothing in this world that belonged to me, and I didn’t deserve anything beautiful.”

Her voice was saturated with despair, as if it could drag anyone listening into that miserable abyss, breaking their heart.

“When I was fourteen, I saved money for half a year by collecting scraps, and secretly bought a dress at a clothing store. The dress was white, with lace on the collar and sleeves. I loved it so much, I hid it under my bed. Whenever my parents weren’t home, I would secretly take it out and wear it.”

“One time, my mother came home early and caught me wearing the new white dress. She insisted I’d stolen money to buy it. I will never forget that day…”

Xia Ling kept her head down, tears falling in large drops, her shoulders trembling more and more violently.

“She stripped me naked and tied me to the big tree in the yard. Right in front of me, she cut the white dress into rags with scissors and set it on fire, then picked up a belt and lashed me, again and again.”

“It was afternoon, and many people heard the commotion and came to watch. I was already fourteen. I was beaten until I was covered in blood, surrounded by people like a monkey. None of them intervened; they watched for amusement, pointing at me, their eyes disgusting and lewd. They laughed, applauded, and urged my mother to hit me harder…”

“I fainted several times from the beating.”

Yan Feng’s heart clenched as he listened to Xia Ling’s story.

He knew her family was bad, that Xia Xiufen always beat and scolded her, but he hadn’t imagined her life involved such cruelty.

Yan Feng’s mind involuntarily drifted to Jiang Ci You.

What was Jiang Ci You doing at fourteen?

Yan Feng remembered that at fourteen, Jiang Ci You had represented China at the UN, delivering a speech in flawless British English, earning applause from all corners of the globe.

At fourteen, she wore a ballet dress and starred at the Paris Opera House, where she was chosen by the Royal Ballet of England, but she turned down their offer simply because she found British cuisine unpalatable.

At fourteen, Jiang Ci You had countless beautiful princess dresses, expensive jewelry, cherished by all, radiating brilliance and youthful vitality like a little princess.

Xia Ling and Jiang Ci You were polar opposites.

One shone in the clouds, the other struggled in the mire.

Sympathy and pity overwhelmed reason, and Yan Feng’s expression became wholly gentle.

He turned and drew Xia Ling into his arms, his voice tinged with tenderness. “Xia Ling, that’s all in the past. Your future won’t be any worse than Jiang Ci You’s.”

Xia Ling leaned on Yan Feng’s shoulder, pitiful as ever. “Ah Feng, I know I’m not worthy of you. Just like that white dress—I longed to be close, to have it, but I always had to pay a huge price. But you are the best thing in my life, the light in my dark, sunless world. No matter what it costs, I will never allow anyone to take you away.”

“I know you and Ci You grew up together, and you haven’t truly let go of those years of affection. I was so afraid you’d rekindle your old feelings, and that’s why I lost my head and did what I did.”

Xia Ling straightened up, her eyes brimming with tears as she looked at Yan Feng.

“Ah Feng, I love you. No one in this world loves you more than I do.”

She gazed at him with almost reverent eyes.

He held her tightly in his arms.

He did love Xia Ling.

Because only Xia Ling worshipped him like a god, with that adoration, awe, and mad longing. Her cautious devotion made him feel like he was the best man in the world.

But in front of Jiang Ci You, he always felt inferior, even needing to curry favor.

Seeing Yan Feng’s anger had completely faded, with only concern left in his eyes, Xia Ling felt this was the perfect moment.

She nestled against Yan Feng’s chest, her voice soft as a newborn kitten.

She carefully watched his expression, then spoke, “Ah Feng, divorce Ci You. Let’s live a good life together, shall we? I don’t care if people call me the mistress or what they say about being Mrs. Yan. I only care whether you still love me. With that connection still tying you to Ci You, I live in constant fear and anxiety, terrified you’ll get back together. If you’re husband and wife again, what will happen to me and the baby?”

Mentioning Jiang Ci You, Yan Feng’s eyes clearly darkened.

Her name was like a stone pressing on his heart.

With every beat, it ached.

Though he and Jiang Ci You had never registered their marriage, in Yan Feng’s heart, she was his wife, his woman.

That was why he never told Xia Ling that he and Jiang Ci You hadn’t officially married.

That piece of paper meant nothing. He and Jiang Ci You were husband and wife.

Therefore, he couldn’t give Xia Ling the recognition that the world demanded.

Thinking of Jiang Ci You’s possible entanglement with Bo Jin Xiu, the stone in his heart grew heavier, nearly crushing the breath from his chest.