Returning with my husband for tomb sweeping, I met the nanny who'd cared for me for years.

Tearful, she asked if I'd visited Mr. Wen since coming back—how he'd been waiting alone in that house.

The "Mr. Wen" she spoke of was Robert Taylor, my uncle-in-law who took me in after my parents died... and my secret lover.

For eight years, we'd maintained perfectly measured intimacy,

until graduation day, when he texted refusing to endure this secrecy any longer.

So at that evening's gathering, blushing, I kissed the corner of his lips before everyone.

Yet the next second, Robert darkened and yanked me away, his voice cold and hard:

"Is this how I taught you Confucian virtues? Get back to your own home."

The guests' scorching stares nearly pierced through me—

they gaped at my humiliated figure rooted in place like some circus freak.

I ran out of the hall in utter collapse and left this home I'd lived in for eight years that very night.

Have you been guarding the house waiting for me to return all this time?

I smiled, pulling my husband closer as I whispered softly,

"Mom, I won't be coming back. I'm married now. Staying at someone else's house wouldn't be proper."

......

My return to the country was kept low-key, without informing a soul.

So when Mom saw me, she was so shocked the basket in her hands fell to the ground.

I stood frozen too, my heart pounding so hard I couldn't speak a word.

Only when Mom threw herself at me, crying and beating my shoulders, calling me heartless.

"You ungrateful child! Where have you been all these years?"

"You left without a word back then, didn't even contact me! I thought I'd die without seeing you again!"

Crying and laughing, I wiped her tears with my sleeve.

She finally stopped, touched my hair, and asked me.

"How have you been these past few years?"

"Have you seen Robert since you came back? He's been waiting alone in the house for you to return all these years."

"Mom's old now, I don't know what happened between you two back then, but you were together for so many years, what could be so bad that you can't move past it?"

"I can tell, Robert has been thinking of you all these years, often staring at your photo in a daze."

"You used to like Robert so much, maybe this time when you go back—"

The smile faded from my face as I cut Mom off, "Mom, that's all in the past, I don't like Robert anymore."

When I spoke this name that was once so cherished in my heart, I was completely calm.

It was as if those years of infatuation had never existed.

Mom gasped, eyeing me with suspicion.

I knew she didn't believe me.

After all, she'd witnessed better than anyone how deeply I'd adored Robert.

Back then, she'd often pat my back, chuckling about young ladies needing more restraint.

But I believed we only live once—love must be seized.

So I chased Robert's shadow relentlessly, ignoring the gossip.

From eighteen to twenty-three.

I thought he loved me too, given how uniquely indulgent he was with me.

That self-delusion shattered when I graduated.

That afternoon, Robert handed me a paper bag.

I thought that was a gift he gave me.

He always gave me little surprises.

But when I opened the paper bag, I found several boxes of anti-inflammatory medicine.

Robert patted my head, his voice gentle:

"Olivia Reynolds, help me give this to your roommate Victoria Clarke."

My heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively asked back,

"When did you get to know my roommate?"

Robert paused, frowning slightly at me,

"Olivia, when you were sick at school before, she took you to the hospital."

My heart settled a bit, but still hung in the air, uneasy.

I knew about Victoria taking me to the hospital, and I thanked her afterward.

But that was a month ago.

So that meant Robert and Victoria had been in touch without me knowing this whole month?

As I thought this, a pang of bitterness instantly surged in my heart.

"Robert, it's just anti-inflammatory medicine. Is there something special about the one you bought?"

Robert understood my meaning and pinched my cheek with amusement,

"Olivia, what on earth are you thinking about all day? I was just thanking her for helping me take care of you."

I snorted coldly and relentlessly stomped on his foot hard,

Robert played along with a cry of pain, then pulled me, who had stopped crying and started laughing, into his arms.

This distance was a bit too close for our relationship, yet compared to my longing, it felt somewhat distant.

For a moment, I fell silent, and only after a while did his sigh come from above my head.

"Olivia, you've grown so much, don't always be so impulsive."

After a pause, he added,

"Learn from your roommate Victoria, a young lady should be more reserved and steady."

I froze, staring at him blankly on the spot.

Overwhelming feelings of grievance and confusion washed over me.

Yet Robert remained oblivious.

He simply reminded me again to bring the book to Victoria.

After that day, I remained depressed for a long time.

I couldn't forget the shy, triumphant smile on Victoria's face when I handed her the book.

Nor could I forget Robert telling me to learn more from Victoria.

But to Robert, these feelings of mine were probably just another tantrum.

Left alone, I'd still become that Olivia whose world revolved entirely around him.

Even on my birthday, I remained downcast.

Robert sighed, meeting my reddened eyes.

"Come on now, Olivia, enough of this?"

"It's your birthday. I remember last year you said you wanted me to bake your cake myself."

"You're the only person in this world who could ever get me into a kitchen to learn baking."

That promise of special treatment successfully lifted my spirits.

My face lit up with joy, and I couldn't resist reaching for his arm.

Robert swiftly pressed a finger to my forehead, his eyes brimming with restrained emotion.

"You're not a little girl anymore. Stop this."

My shoulders slumped in disappointment.

He gave my head a controlled pat.

Instinctively, I nuzzled against his hand.

My nose betrayed me, stinging with unshed tears.

I could feel his affection radiating toward me,

yet he remained anchored, refusing to bridge even a single step.

Just as I'd tugged his sleeve, murmuring playful words,

a friend nearby exclaimed, "What's going on over there?"

I turned—speak of the devil.

Victoria stood rooted to the spot in server's attire, bowing repeatedly as she apologized.

On the floor lay a large, shapeless mess of cake.

Her eyes reddened, "I'm sorry, my foot slipped and I lost my balance."

A friend turned to me: "Olivia, you're the birthday girl today. How should we handle this?"

Before I could speak, Victoria looked at me like I was her lifeline.

"Olivia, I'm sorry, it's my fault. But please don't report this to my supervisor—I'm still on probation..."

I stared blankly at the ruined cake on the floor, my own eyes stinging.

That was the cake Robert made for me himself!

"Victoria, are you insane?! If you're this clumsy, don't take jobs requiring precision!"

Her face flushed crimson, "Olivia, I'm sorry, I... I'll pay you back..."

Tears streamed down my face as I pointed at Victoria,

"Victoria, can you even afford this? Do you realize what this cake—"

"Olivia, enough!"

Robert suddenly stepped between Victoria and me.

Robert gripped my trembling wrist, his voice low but firm,

"Olivia, calm down."

My boiling rage suddenly felt doused with ice water. I stared at him in disbelief.

"You're taking her side?"

Robert frowned. "Let it go. She didn't mean it. Stop bullying her."

My voice choked. "She ruined my cake. You know how long I've waited for this."

"Robert, you can't do this to me."

Victoria spoke up behind us,

"Mr. Taylor, I'm sorry. I'll pay for it. Please don't fight with Olivia because of me."

"I'll just work an extra job next month."

Unexplainable hurt and frustration churned in my chest.

Hearing Victoria's pitiful tone made me feel even worse.

"Stop playing the victim here! Is Robert's business any of your concern?"

"You messed up, yet you're acting like the victim. Disgusting!"

"Enough! Olivia, I never taught you this arrogant attitude."

Robert snapped at me with a cold face.

He then turned to Victoria,

"You may leave. This doesn't concern you."

After Victoria left, Robert seemed about to speak to me.

I wiped my tears and shoved him away hard.

"You're disgusting too!"

Holding my breath, I maintained a cold war with Robert for ages,

yet this period strangely felt like when we most resembled a normal uncle and niece.

I felt a bit dazed and somewhat lost.

Until that day, Nanny smiled and handed me a velvet jewelry box.

"Robert asked me to make sure I gave this to you."

I looked at the square red box and nervously swallowed.

When I opened it, sure enough, there was a ring.

With red eyes, I looked at Nanny.

Nanny patted my head,

"I told you before, Robert definitely likes you, he just wanted to give you enough time to think it through."

I looked at that shiny silver ring and suddenly really wanted to see Robert.

I wanted to hug him and tell him,

"I've never been afraid of what others say, I'm only afraid you won't listen to me."

But I didn't see Robert,

I saw Victoria at Robert's company.

Victoria was holding the lucky charm pouch I gave Robert when I confessed to him as an adult, about to throw it in the trash.

My pupils contracted as I lunged to snatch the lucky charm pouch.

I clutched the pouch in one hand and the ring in the other.

I wanted to speak but stood frozen, unable to utter a word.

An overwhelming wave of exhaustion and confusion washed over me.

Robert stepped out of his office and gave Victoria a half-hearted scolding,

first dismissing her, then bending down to smile at me.

"Did you get what I gave you?"

I nodded silently and opened my right palm.

The boundless joy I'd felt when first seeing this ring had vanished without a trace.

Robert didn't notice. He placed his hand over my palm, his gaze gentle.

I withdrew my hand and asked him calmly, looking up.

"Why is Victoria here? Why is that lucky charm pouch in her hand?"

I spread open my left hand, revealing the lucky charm pouch already soaked with black coffee.

Robert frowned at the lucky charm pouch, pondered for a moment, then walked aside to make a call.

"Terminate Victoria's internship contract."

After hanging up, he explained to me seriously,

"I don't know why the lucky charm pouch is in her hand."

I smiled self-deprecatingly,

"You said you'd keep it close, but you didn't even know Victoria had dirtied it and thrown it away."

"You know I don't like Victoria, yet you still let her intern at your company."

Tears streamed down my cheeks numbly,

For the first time, I looked at Robert calmly and numbly and asked him,

"Robert, do you really like me?"

Robert's brow furrowed so tightly it seemed about to knot.

He pressed his lips together and stared at me without a word.

Again like this.

Always like this.

Facing my affection, he never responds or rejects.

As if everything was just my solo act.

I wiped away tears and snorted,

grabbed his hand to place the ring in his palm, then turned to leave.

Robert reached out to stop me.

But his fingertips froze mid-air the moment they touched my hand.

I closed my eyes briefly before turning into the elevator.

That ring reappeared in my room the next day.

I stared blankly at the box for ages before hiding it in the desk's bottom drawer.

Just like the relationship between Robert and me,

in Robert's eyes, it could never see daylight.

I began to examine the feelings between Robert and me.

He probably noticed too, often looking at me like he hesitated to speak,

yet always reaching out instinctively to hold me.

I learned to dodge and refuse him, just like he used to.

Watched coldly as disappointment filled his eyes.

But watching him, my nose tingled with the threat of tears.

I still desperately loved him, but felt utterly drained.

So I stayed put, waiting for my love to fade away.

Then at graduation party, Robert's message lit up my phone:

"Olivia, let's go public. I'm waiting for you."

My hands trembled as I gripped the phone,

laughing and crying while I pulled out the ring and put it on.

I wore the most beautiful dress from my closet to see Robert.

Robert looked pleasantly surprised too, his eyes sparkling as he looked at me.

When the dance ended, I smiled at him, and he smiled back.

I took a deep breath, mustered my courage, stood on tiptoe, and kissed the corner of his mouth.

His lips were indeed as soft as I had imagined.

But before I could indulge in any more romantic feelings, a tremendous force shoved me hard.

I stumbled and fell to the ground.

Immediately, Robert's angry roar rang out: "Olivia, what are you doing?"

I looked up at him in confusion, my mind blank.

He wiped the corner of his mouth, his gaze at me filled with barely noticeable panic and shame.

The banquet hall's gazes swept over me like spotlights.

I heard someone call me shameless,

another saying children without parental guidance truly lack upbringing.

Huddled in disgrace, I stubbornly clutched Robert's trouser leg.

"Robert, didn't you say we'd announce this publicly?"

"Olivia!"

"Is this how I taught you Confucian virtues? Look at yourself."

"Get out of here and go home!"

My hand fell limp to the floor as I stared blankly at Robert's icy expression.

Behind him, Victoria waved at me triumphantly.

Suddenly understanding, I stumbled to my feet and approached her.

"Was this your game?" I whispered.

Fear washed over her face as she murmured, "Mr. Taylor."

I laughed, grabbed her hair and slapped her hard.

She screamed.

As if deaf to it, I slapped her again.

But seconds later, a heavier blow struck my face.

I froze in place, my cheek burning.

The pain forced out the tears I'd been holding back, falling in big drops.

Robert's conflicted voice cut through,

"Olivia, you've gone too far."

He took the sobbing Victoria beside him and turned to leave.

Through blurred vision, I stared unblinkingly as their figures vanished.

Robert never once looked back.

At fifteen, he'd taken me away from my parents' funeral hall where everyone pointed fingers.

That year at twenty-three, he personally left me drowning in others' gossip.

I mechanically pulled the ring off my finger.

The clang of metal hitting the floor rang piercingly clear.

Yet nothing echoed louder than my suitcase scraping through that midnight darkness.

That night, I fled the Taylor family home in haste.

Eight years passed since that departure.

Now Nanny tells me Robert's been waiting in that house all along.

"Olivia, Master Robert searched everywhere for you these years. Won't you come home for a while?"

Home?

That place was never my home.

I curled my lips mockingly, "Nanny, I won't be returning."

Nanny frowned, ready to protest.

Smiling, I beckoned to my husband Mason nearby, "I'm married now. Staying at another man's house would be improper."

Nanny gaped in shock, her eyes darting between Mason and me.

"Olivia, this is no joking matter. Robert, he..."

I calmly held nanny's hand, "Mom, besides coming back for tomb sweeping, we're also holding a wedding banquet here."

"You'll sit in the seat of honor then."

Mom stared at me speechless for a long moment.

After a while, she sighed and squeezed my hand back, "Alright, as long as Olivia's happy."

"What a pity..."

I lowered my eyes, pretending not to hear those words.

There's nothing to pity.

Everything's for the best.

I'm just grateful I didn't compound my mistakes back then.

Mom didn't say anything more,

just told me I mustn't ever stop contacting her before leaving.

Mason and I began busily preparing for the wedding banquet.

Eight years ago when I left, I cut ties with every friend.

So drafting the wedding guest list felt like wading through mud.

I sighed, set down the invitations, and stepped outside for a smoke.

Just as the cigarette sparked to life, a familiar figure emerged ahead.

I knew I'd see Robert again eventually.

Yet when he actually stood before me, my breath still hitched.

He looked far more worn than eight years ago.

Now he stood frozen, staring at me without blinking.

I frowned briefly before calling out, "Uncle Robert."

His whole body went rigid, voice gritty like gravel. "What... did you call me?"

Since turning eighteen, I'd only ever called him Robert.

He was unhappy at first.

I snapped back that he was just my grandfather's friend's grandson, so what kind of uncle was he to me?

But really, back then I was just clumsily trying to get closer to him.

And now, I willingly called out again, "Robert, long time no see."

His expression turned strange.

Like sadness, yet also despair.

Anyway, it made me more and more irritated, so I simply put out the cigarette in my hand.

"Robert, if there's nothing else, I'll head back first."

He ran over and grabbed my wrist, then in the face of my half-smiling look, he let go of me with a trembling hand.

"Olivia, when did you start smoking?"

I twirled the lighter in my hand and answered carelessly.

"Well, it's been years. Eight years, I guess."

The gaunt figure before me, reduced to skin and bones, stiffened violently again.

His face instantly turned even paler, and even his eyes fixed on me seemed to mist over.

After a long silence, he asked softly, "Olivia, are you still willing to come home with me?"

I reminded him sarcastically, "Robert, that's your home, not mine."

In that instant, Robert seemed to shatter into pieces.

His lips moved as if trying to speak, but no words came out.

My patience had reached its limit. I waved dismissively at him and turned to enter the house.

He stood frozen in place, his eyes tracking me relentlessly through the window.

I couldn't even focus on the wedding album anymore.

After some thought, I went out and spoke gently to him.

"Robert, you should head back first."

As I spoke, I pressed the wedding invitation into his hand.

"I'd like you to attend my wedding ceremony."

He stared blankly at the invitation, then lifted his gaze to me.

As if hearing something unbelievable, he forced out words with difficulty.

"You want me... to attend your wedding?"

I nodded earnestly. "Well, you raised me for several years. You're my elder."

"By tradition, you should walk me down the aisle—"

"Olivia!"

Robert cut me off desperately, his eyes welling up with immense pain.

He said word by word, "Olivia, you can't do this to me. I'm your... I'm your—"

I scoffed, "Who are you to me?"

He stared at me, speechless, despair etched across his face.

My laughter turned sharper. "Uncle, you're nothing to me. We have nothing between us."

"The only tie we ever had was you acting as my guardian for a few years."

He opened his mouth, fury trembling on his lips.

I pressed a finger to my own lips. "Shh. Not a word."

"It'd be too embarrassing."