Atlas Studios

  Atlas Studios

  Lin Nuan carried her bag and walked towards Wen Moshen.

  But Wen Moshen wasn’t looking at Lin Nuan. He was staring at the Maybach instead, as he knew that the person behind the wheel was Fu Huai’an.

  He wanted to take a good look at Fu Huai’an’s expression behind the windshield.

  Lin Nuan had gone to Iraq because of him, and he wanted to see what Fu Huai’an’s reaction would be as her husband.

  Was he angry? Or maybe it didn’t bother him? Wen Moshen was unable to tell.

  As he watched Lin Nuan walk away, Fu Huai’an rolled down his car window. The air was fresh and damp after the rain and felt slightly chilly.

  Fu Huai’an lit a cigarette and placed his elbow on the car window. As he smoked, he gazed into the distance…


  Lin Nuan was walking towards her past. Today was the day when Lin Nuan would bid farewell to her past and cut off all ties. Fu Huai’an would be waiting patiently.

  …


  As Lin Nuan stood in front of Wen Moshen, she realized that there was stubble on his chin. This was a stark contrast to his usual clean-shaven and kind look. Now, he looked dejected and was in a sorry state, and his eyes betrayed emotions that he had been enduring in silence.

  Wen Moshen hadn’t slept a wink, as he had spent the entire night waiting outside Lin Nuan’s house. It was only when Lin Nuan’s neighbor informed him this morning that Lin Nuan wasn’t at home that Wen Moshen remembered that Lin Nuan was already married and she was probably living with Fu Huai’an now. So he came here to wait for her at the entrance of the broadcast building.

  Lin Nuan was wearing a cap, but her delicate and pretty profile still stood out from under the shadow of her cap. She gazed at Wen Moshen with crystal clear and dark eyes. “Moshen, I know you sent those messages yesterday on impulse because you saw those photographs.”


  Wen Moshen’s gaze swept across the Maybach as tears welled up in his eyes.

  Before he saw those photographs, Wen Moshen felt touched and guilty when he found out that Lin Nuan was the one who had gone to Iraq to look for him. His heart was aching.

  But after seeing the photographs last night, Wen Moshen was stunned and shaken.

  This was Iraq—a matter of life and death. For a girl like Lin Nuan, to still be searching for him even when she was injured…


  Especially after he read the report, every single word that the reporter had written was like a dagger, stabbing him repeatedly in his bleeding wounds.

  Wen Moshen regretted… he regretted thinking too much in the past when he let the disparity and distance between them get in the way.

  “Nuan nuan, is it still possible for me to regret?” Wen Moshen choked as he spoke. “What can I do… what price do I have to pay to get my Lin Nuan back?”


  Being in the cold the entire night hadn’t cleared Wen Moshen’s head. Instead, his insides were burning, he was engulfed by regret, and the pain was eating him alive.

  He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the photographs of Lin Nuan in Iraq on his phone… photographs of her holding his photo and asking medical personnel for his whereabouts even though blood was gushing from her head. Wen Moshen felt so overwhelmed by his emotions that he almost suffocated.

  Wen Moshen finished smoking an entire pack of cigarettes while staring at that particular photograph. He couldn’t stop even when he had a hacking cough. His tears rolled down, and his vision became blurry. He sat in his car and choked back tears, as he had no right to bawl his eyes out.

  Compared to Lin Nuan’s, his love was nothing! His love was punctuated by hesitation and deliberation and considerations.

  From today onwards, Wen Moshen would no longer dare to declare his undying love for Lin Nuan.

  From the photographs to the recording of the conversation between Gu Hanyan and Lin Nuan…


  When he had married Gu Hanyan, Bai Xiaonian had brought this up in a seemingly casual manner, so Wen Moshen only experienced excruciating pain when he heard the recording of their conversation.

  The recording, together with these photographs, made things even clearer. Wen Moshen questioned himself repeatedly—did his love for Lin Nuan mean anything?