Ziyu thought he had everything planned out. In pursuit of a happier life, he betrays his devoted wife, Meilin and asks for a divorce, driven by his affair with the alluring Xin Yi. As Ziyu leaves behind his old life, he quickly settles into what he...
At the barbecue hosted by their mutual friend Shao Feng, Meilin crossed paths with Ziyu. She watched him from a distance, noting the lines of weariness in his face, but her heart felt no lingering bitterness. Only peace.
Eventually, Meilin approached him. Ziyu seemed startled to see her so at ease, so happy. The man who once thought she was incomplete without a child now saw her in a different light.
"I'm truly happy for you," Meilin said to him. "You finally have the children you always wanted. I hear Xin Yi is pregnant with baby number two." Meilin raised her glass in a silent toast.
Ziyu smiled, a little nervously, but before he could respond, Meilin added, "I received a letter from the doctor years ago. It said you wouldn't be able to father a child." She said it plainly. "I never told you because I knew how much it would hurt you. When you said you got someone else pregnant, I thought it was a miracle. So, I kept the knowledge to myself. After all, you finally had what you wanted."
Meilin saw the shock register in Ziyu's eyes, his smile faltering as the truth slowly dawned on him. Meilin gave him a small, genuine smile, then wished him a happy life and turned away, walking back to join her new husband.
Ziyu stood frozen, his mind reeling. Meilin had known all along. The truth, so carefully hidden, now left him stunned and flabbergasted. She had borne the weight of his blame, his resentment, and never once protested. He had left Meilin for a lie. A lie that had shattered his pride, and now, as he realized the full depth of her sacrifice, he felt sorrow unlike anything he had ever felt.
Ziyu couldn't move. Couldn't speak. Meilin had let him go because she had understood something he never had—true love wasn't conditional. Now Ziyu was in a mess, haunted by the woman he had lost, and by the truth that had come too late to save him from his own mistakes.
Meilin had known the truth all along
Two years ago, when Meilin and Ziyu had tried and failed to conceive, she'd quietly taken the steps to understand why. The results had come in the mail—cold, clinical words on a white sheet of paper that held their future in stark reality. It wasn't her. Ziyu was the reason they hadn't been able to have a child.
At first, Meilin had been struck by the weight of it. She knew how much having a child meant to Ziyu, how his pride and sense of manhood were tied up in it. Telling him would break him, she had no doubt. Ziyu had always been proud, never one to accept weakness, especially not in himself. Meilin had taken one long look at the letter, at the painful truth it held, and then tucked it away, deep in a drawer, never to be spoken of again. She had chosen to bear the burden silently, knowing the truth could tear them apart.
And so they carried on. She accepted the unspoken blame. He grew distant, frustrated, and restless. But she held firm, willing to stay with him, even knowing that she could likely have a child if she left. That wasn't what mattered to her. What mattered was their love—or at least what she had believed their love to be.
Then, one day, Ziyu shattered their uneasy world. He told her he had gotten someone else pregnant.
Meilin remembered the numbness that had followed his words. Ziyu had silently blamed her, thinking she was the reason they couldn't have a family. And now, in his mind, he had what he wanted—a child. Even if it was by someone else.
At that moment, she chose not to tell him the truth. She watched him, the man she had loved for so long, and saw in his eyes the relief that came with the news of the other woman's pregnancy. Meilin let him go because she knew a man who would leave her over something as uncontrollable as fertility didn't deserve her love. Ziyu had his child now, or so he thought.
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After Meilin's confession, Ziyu was left with the realization that his pursuit of happiness through someone else was built on a lie, and that the woman he let go was the one who truly understood him, but also had the grace to let him go without malice.
Or was it [with malice]?
What if Meilin was not a miss-goody-two shoes after all? What if she was almost certain that Xin Yi's child likely wasn't Ziyu's and chose not to reveal his medical diagnosis on purpose as a poignant act of silent revenge. She saw Ziyu's willingness to leave her as a reflection of his inability to truly love her, which made her decision to stay quiet even more empowering.
This twist gives Meilin the final word, reclaiming her power and dignity, while Ziyu is left to grapple with his regrets. It's a profound exploration of pride, love, and the sacrifices people make in relationships.
If Meilin chose not to tell Ziyu out of malice, then her conversation with Ziyu at the BBQ would have gone something like this:
Meilin raises her glass, in a toast. "To you, Ziyu," she says. "Congratulations on everything. I'm truly happy that you finally have the family you always wanted."
Ziyu blinks, a bit taken aback by her unexpected toast. Meilin lowers her glass slightly and speaks again, this time more softly, but with a weight that carries deeper meaning.
"I got a letter from the doctor all those years ago," Meilin continues. "It said you were the one who couldn't have children, not me. I never told you because I knew how much it would hurt you."
Meilin's glass hovers briefly in the air before she takes a slow sip, her eyes still on Ziyu. Ziyu stands frozen, the realization settling in as Meilin's words sink in—she had known all along.
"When you said you were leaving me," Meilin adds, setting her glass down, "I suspected Xin Yi's child wasn't yours. But I deliberately chose not to tell you. You had made your choice, and you were no longer my concern."
Meilin gives him a small, bittersweet smile. With a subtle nod and a smirk, she turns away to join her husband.
Ziyu stands there, motionless, glass in hand, unable to move. The truth he had never known—about himself, about Meilin—now lay bare before him.
