Why should I care to love?

A single brief sentence softened Xia Mengge’s heart, and she hurriedly accepted it with thanks.

Xia Mengge had always disliked owing others anything, so she quickly returned to her bedroom to retrieve a complete set of stamps, which she had specially brought back from the mission world.

Seeing the set of stamps, Shen Yuchen’s eyes flickered with surprise, and he was about to refuse.

But Xia Chenxuan beside him insisted that he accept it.

Xia Mengge explained, “Please take it as a token of my gratitude.”

Grateful for his affection over the past seven years, and for his persistent waiting all this time.

After hesitating for a moment, Shen Yuchen finally reached out and took the stamps, caressing them fondly. “Thank you, I really like them.”

Xia Mengge breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing him accept it. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Shen Yuchen, although we cannot rekindle what we once had, we can still be friends.”

Seeing her outstretched hand, Shen Yuchen was momentarily stunned, then grasped her hand firmly, “Alright.”

Only after Shen Yuchen’s car had completely vanished from sight did Xia Mengge turn and walk toward the villa.

As she turned, she caught Xia Chenxuan’s unwavering gaze fixed on her.

Startled, she took a step back. “Xia Chenxuan, what are you doing?”

Xia Chenxuan pondered for a moment before reluctantly asking, “Do you really no longer have any feelings for Shen Yuchen?”

Xia Mengge studied Xia Chenxuan for a long while, then asked in puzzlement, “Why would I?”

---

“And seven years have passed; I am no longer the naive little girl I once was.”

A faint mist seemed to lightly brush across Xia Mengge’s eyes, a flicker of haziness and depth shimmering within. She whispered softly, “Besides, in these seven years, I have endured so much and seen through so many people.”

She did not enter the familiar yet strange villa, but instead quietly sat on an old wooden chair nearby, as if deliberately maintaining a subtle distance from the past—neither fully detaching nor rushing to rejoin. The sunset’s afterglow filtered through the leaves, casting mottled light upon her shoulders, draping her in a faint golden glow that lent an air of solitary elegance.

When she first returned to this long-missed land, her emotions surged like a tide, but she merely mentioned lightly to her parents and Xia Chenxuan how she had been swept into an unknown world by a mysterious system, faced countless challenges and trials, and finally found her way back home.

As for the grievances and bitterness she had suffered in her marriage over these seven years, she never uttered a word.

Because each time she spoke of it, the long-buried scars in her heart would be torn open again.

Yet her parents and Xia Chenxuan could still sense something from the wounds she bore.

But no matter how much they wished, the details remained beyond their reach.

Xia Mengge knew she was no longer the innocent, carefree girl from seven years ago. She had learned to hide bitterness behind a smile and to use silence to protect the softest parts of herself.

Slowly, Xia Mengge began to recount the grievances she endured in her seven-year marriage to Wei Xunzhou.

“He was supposed to be my husband, yet he repeatedly drained our family’s resources for another woman and then accused me of being petty.”

“Wei Ming is my son, but he stabbed me in the back time and again for that other woman, even going so far as to slander me.”

“All the injustices I had never experienced before, I endured them all at their hands.”

“Do you know why I said I didn’t want to celebrate my birthday when I returned?”

Xia Chenxuan hugged his sister tightly, his heart aching for her.

---

Xia Yuwei’s eyes flickered suddenly, as if she had a thousand words to say but finally only murmured each word slowly and deliberately: “Because on my birthday…”

Her voice seemed to be gently scattered by the wind, carrying a subtle sorrow.

“It was the day I got out of prison!”

Xia Yuwei’s voice rose sharply, like a stone cast upon a still lake, rippling waves of shock. Those words struck Xia Chenxuan’s heart like a sharp blade, causing him to choke on a sudden, suffocating pain.

A buzzing silence engulfed Xia Chenxuan’s mind, all thoughts drained away, leaving only confusion and shock. He stared incredulously at his sister, whose once lively and vibrant eyes were now clouded with a faint sadness and weariness.

“Y-you… how could you have ended up in prison?” Xia Chenxuan’s voice trembled slightly, each word seeming to be forced from deep within his throat. He gripped his sister’s shoulders so tightly it felt as if he might crush her bones, as if by doing so he could prove this was all some terrible mistake.

Xia Chenxuan knew all too well the harshness and cruelty of prison—the gathering place of humanity’s darkest shadows, a chasm of despair and pain.

He had witnessed firsthand how those trapped behind iron bars struggled in hopelessness, how they sank into darkness. He had sent countless heinous criminals to those cold cells, never imagining that one day his own sister would become one of them.

Moreover, in the mission world, she had been imprisoned in the 1980s—a time when prisons were nightmares incarnate.

How could they dare?

A long-forgotten hatred instantly flared in Xia Chenxuan’s eyes.

Anyone familiar with him would immediately pray for that unlucky person’s survival upon seeing such a gaze.

Because when Xia Chenxuan revealed that look, the unfortunate soul would never live to see another day.

Xia Mengge understood this well, so she quickly tugged at her brother’s hand. “Brother…”