Chapter 9: Why Can't I?

“Sis, I’m one hundred percent sure now—you’ve finally been cured of your love-struck mind,” Chu Ming said mysteriously, her smile inscrutable as she looked at Yu Ling.

Yu Ling, too exhausted to argue, found she could understand this to some extent. Awakening, after all, was essentially the cure for a love-stricken mind, wasn’t it? If it weren’t so late and if neither she nor Chu Ming were so drained, she’d have stormed straight to Springscape Garden to tear that pair of lovebirds apart.

For now, Yu Ling let her nerves relax, leaning back in her chair with her eyes closed to rest.

Zhou Yan had discovered something extraordinary. His artist was clearly upset—he didn’t know who had provoked him, but the dark expression on his face said it all.

Cautiously glancing at Chi Ran, Zhou Yan noticed his sour mood and dared to speak up, “Young Master Chi, what’s wrong today? Who dared to offend you?”

They had been friends since childhood, and only he dared to speak so boldly in front of Chi Ran.

Chi Ran shot him a cold glare, irritation plainly visible. Sitting side by side, Zhou Yan, undeterred, poked at his sleeve, “Young Master Zhou, why are your pant legs wet? You knew it was raining but refused to get in the car—had to see them off before you’d leave. Seriously, do you like her that much?”

Chi Ran scooted away and coldly snapped, “Shut up.”

“Shut up? Oh no, I won’t.”

Zhou Yan smirked mischievously, knowing his words would only rub salt in Chi Ran’s wounds.

“What? Yu Ling ignores you, so you take it out on me? Honestly, you should just openly tell her how you feel…”

Before he finished, Chi Ran threw the towel he was holding. Conveniently, it landed right on Zhou Yan’s face, like a homing missile.

Zhou Yan touched the wet towel. “Damn you, Chi Ran!”

He exploded in anger, raising his voice several decibels.

“What?” Chi Ran said lightly, lifting his eyelids to glance at him.

“N-nothing,” Zhou Yan quickly deflated, biting his lip as he tossed the towel aside.

He muttered under his breath, “Since you’re in a bad mood, I won’t hold it against you.”

His pitiful attempt to save face was almost unbearable to watch.

Chi Ran ignored him, lazily leaning against the car window with half-closed eyes, staring off into nothingness.

In the dim light inside the car, his face flickered between shadows and light, radiating an inexplicable noble grace.

Neither spoke, and an eerie silence settled in the cramped space.

As his close friend, Zhou Yan was anxious. Chi Ran was a closed-off type—he liked Yu Ling but wouldn’t let anyone know. If he kept bottling up his feelings like this, and one day Yu Ling suddenly announced she was married with a child, he’d be doomed.

At that point, all the times Zhou Yan had played “Clock in the Opposite Direction” for him would be useless.

So whenever he found the chance, Zhou Yan encouraged him to bravely pursue love, but Chi Ran was like a stubborn stone in a toilet—stinky and unyielding.

No matter how much Zhou Yan nagged, Chi Ran remained unmoved.

No, Zhou Yan thought he should correct himself.

Chi Ran wasn’t a stinky, hard stone; he was more like a snail hiding in his shell, afraid to show his head.

He stubbornly concealed his love, refusing to face the light.

“Zhou Yan, she has a boyfriend,” Chi Ran suddenly whispered after a long silence.

His voice drifted into Zhou Yan’s ear, trembling faintly.

“Ah Ran, I didn’t know…” Zhou Yan stammered, nearly biting his tongue.

At this moment, he couldn’t utter a single sarcastic word—only offering dry comfort: “Don’t be too sad. Love is love; how many people stay together for life? There’s still hope.”

Chi Ran seemed lost in his own thoughts, his voice hoarse, “But that man treats her badly.”

After the event, he had seen Lin Mianmian slip into Yu Ling’s boyfriend’s car in a secluded corner. They held hands, behaving intimately.

That man had betrayed Yu Ling.

Hearing this, Zhou Yan became agitated, slapping his thigh and grabbing Chi Ran’s arm excitedly, “Then why are you just sitting there watching her suffer? Hurry up and win her back!”

But Chi Ran lowered his head, his expression despondent. “She doesn’t like me.”

Why did Yu Ling turn away every time she saw him? Was he really that frightening?

For the first time, Chi Ran doubted himself.

Unaware of his inner thoughts, Zhou Yan patiently explained the simplest truth: “You never told her you like her. She doesn’t know. It’s no wonder she doesn’t like you.”

The assistant driving silently overheard their conversation and felt something was off.

Was that really what people said? But it kind of made sense.

He thought about it but couldn’t quite figure it out.

He shook his head, raised the divider, and focused on driving.

Driving at night was risky enough, especially with two VIPs in the backseat—it was better to be cautious.

“Seeing her hurt by the wrong person and doing nothing—isn’t that the same as murder for profit?” Zhou Yan’s voice was passionate, spewing words without a breath.

Chi Ran leaned away slightly, putting some distance between them.

But Zhou Yan’s words sank in.

Whenever he thought of Yu Ling’s heartbreak upon learning the truth, his chest ached painfully, almost suffocating.

Chi Ran rubbed the red string around his wrist, the touch sharpening his thoughts.

Suddenly, he recalled last year’s New Year’s Eve gala, when heavy snow fell and Lin He was cold.

That night, he had intended to ask Yu Ling for her contact information but accidentally overheard her talking with an assistant outside.

He knew the assistant—Chu Ming, a young girl.

She had been sweetly sharing her own love story, telling Chu Ming she was in love.

Chi Ran lost the courage to knock and silently walked away, his mind blank the whole way.

Someone greeted him, but he was too distracted to respond.

The gala was broadcast live, and that segment aired. His tantrum and sour face instantly shot to the top of the trending list, reigning for three hours.

Zhou Yan spent a fortune to remove it, but the rival’s marketing accounts still spread it widely. Many unknowing bystanders flooded his Weibo with insults and sarcastic remarks.

Fans defended him but worried about what had happened.

Chi Ran didn’t respond at all.

After the gala ended, he returned home, staring out at the falling snow, sitting motionless until morning amidst scattered beer bottles.

He had gotten drunk, his body numb from alcohol, but his heart ached relentlessly.

Eventually, he told himself it was okay—as long as she was happy.

As long as he could see her safe and joyful, he was willing to hide away in the darkest corner.

But her “happiness” was shadowed by danger.

A sudden greed flared within Chi Ran. Why should such a despicable man have her?

Why… shouldn’t I?