Translator: Lonelytree Editor: Millman97
After Song Qingchun Station TW, she headed straight for Su Zhinian’s bungalow. His place was empty. The arrangement of the shoes at the front door looked identical to how she left them when she went out that morning. With one glance, Song Qingchun knew that Su Zhinian hadn’t returned to his home.
Like Tang Nuan told her, she did find a scheduling report from the hospital about a vasectomy in Su Zhinian’s bedroom. It was placed under his diary. Song Qingchun grabbed the diary to flip through it and realized that there was a new entry she hadn’t read before.
It was written three days ago.
“Little Sesame, I’m sorry.
“I love you, but I love your mother more.
“After you go to heaven, you can hate me all you want, but please remember, your mother really did love you.”
Three simple sentences caused Song Qingchun’s eyes to redden instantly. A thin piece of paper fluttered out of the pages of the diary. Song Qingchun bent over to pick it up and open it. It was a design for a gravestone. Song Qingchun could recognize the handwriting on the stone as Su Zhinian’s.
The design was well done, and unlike normal gravestone, it looked rather cute, with engraved balloons, teddy bears, and Mickey Mouse. The name on the stone was Little Sesame, and Song Qingchun understood instantly who the design was for.
A single tear fell out of Song Qingchun’s eye.
Actually, Su Zhinian cares more deeply about our child than he shows, doesn’t he? However, he has to maintain enough rationality despite his pain to help us make the best decision. In fact, he already planned to give up on the possibility of future children simply because he didn’t want to put me through such torment again…
There are many horrible men in the world who would make their women undergo abortions again and again simply for the sake of their sexual satisfaction, but what about Su Zhinian? He’d rather undergo the surgery himself than let any harm come to me ever again…
Song Qingchun sucked in a deep breath as she sought out her phone from her purse. She opened her phone that she had left shut down for about twenty-four hours, and the moment she activated it, it rang continuously with alerts. Most of them came from Su Zhinian; there were missed calls and unread messages.
Song Qingchun believed that when she ditched him and ran away, he must have been incredibly worried. Song Qingchun immediately called Su Zhinian back, but coincidentally, his phone was off.
His phone battery probably died, so how am I going to reach him? I can stay here and wait, but what if he doesn’t come home until he locates me? Song Qingchun stood in his bedroom for quite some time before she suddenly grabbed her purse, ran downstairs, and hailed a cab to go to Ming Jing alley.
…
Su Zhinian searched up and down for Song Qingchun for one whole day and night. It was not unlike how he upended Beijing to look for her six years ago when he accidentally slept with her in his drunken state.
In spite of his superpower, if someone intended to hide themselves away from him, he realized that his superpower was not much of a help.
The moon soon rose. Another side of Beijing city came alive, one replete with bright lights and nightlife. Su Zhinian, who hadn’t rested his eyes for more than twenty-four hours, felt a throbbing pain behind his eyes. As his body weakened, his heart started to fill with despair from his failure to locate Song Qingchun.
