Chapter 20: The Letter

This letter is the one I wrote to her on the day I left; I always kept it under my pillow. I knew she would see it sooner or later.

Jiang Yue unfolded the letter and began to read it carefully.

It was written in my own hand:

“Jiang Yue, seeing these words is like seeing me. By the time you read this letter, I may have already gone, or perhaps I’m already gone forever. But it doesn’t matter—at least it doesn’t matter to you. Still, please read this letter all the way through.

Seven years ago, I saved you on my way home from work, and since then, I was hopelessly entangled. I knew I had fallen in love with you—and it was the kind of love that couldn’t be cured. Back then, you were kind to me too; I remember every little thing you did.

That scarf—you might have forgotten—it was the first precious gift I ever received in my life, and I cherished it deeply. At that moment, I knew I could never be without you.

Later, I also learned there was someone in your heart all along. I thought that was fine—it proved your loyalty. But I wanted to be with you; I wanted you to care for me a little.

Yet in the end, I was just wishing for too much. You never truly cared for me; instead, things only worsened.

I don’t know exactly when it started, but the times you spoke to me grew fewer and fewer. Whenever I was near you, you seemed unhappy; whenever I spoke, you would lash out at me.

Many times I wondered what I had done wrong. I began to blame myself, growing suspicious and insecure.

I don’t even remember when I stopped loving you.

Maybe it was last year on your birthday. I prepared for it a week in advance, bought the freshest ingredients, and cooked a big feast for you.

But you came home with some friends and completely ignored me, throwing all the dishes I painstakingly made straight into the trash.

In front of your friends, you said I was just a servant in your house. You even danced and drank with other men right before my eyes.

Or maybe it was when I was diagnosed and told you. You accused me of lying, said I wanted you to give me money.

But Jiang Yue, ask yourself honestly—have I ever used much of your money during these years? Except that one time I borrowed 100,000 yuan from you.

Have you given me even ten thousand yuan over all these seven years?

You wouldn’t let me work, so I had no income. You gave me only a thousand yuan a month—less than your servant. I even had to save money to buy you treats and gifts to please you.

Do you know? Even though I knew the man in your heart was coming back, I still held onto some hope for you.

Until today, when the doctor told me I didn’t have much time left—and today happens to be our six-year anniversary.

He came back, and you told me anniversaries come every year, but he’s only returned once in all these years, asking me to wait.

That’s when I knew—I had to let go and set you free. I should have done it long ago.

So… after all these words, I only want to say goodbye. Never to meet again.”

...

After finishing the letter, Jiang Yue’s hands trembled; her eyes reddened, and her expression was deeply troubled.

Then she tore the letter to shreds with force.

Without mercy, she muttered to herself, “Chu Jianghe, what do you mean by this? Leaving such a letter after you’re dead? What—do you want me to feel guilty? You’ve made me look so miserable, but hasn’t all this time been your one-sided obsession? Did I ever force you?”

You didn’t force me; you just don’t understand love, nor do you deserve it.

She sneered coldly again, “How laughable. You think I’d be sad for you? To be honest, even my dog is worth more than your life.”

With that, she turned and walked out of the room without looking back.

My intention in writing this letter was never to tell her how miserable I was, but simply to share what was in my heart.

Of course, I didn’t know if she cared. It was clear she didn’t; it didn’t matter to her at all.

She went about her day as usual, following her routine and starting her daily work.

Around ten in the morning, Fang Ting hurriedly knocked on the office door.

“Director Jiang, some reporters want to interview you. Do you have time?”

Jiang Yue paused, frowning. “Reporters? Interview me? About what?”

“They said it’s because you donated some money to the orphanage before, helping many lost children find their parents. The director is waiting for you in the reception room right now.”

Jiang Yue looked puzzled. “Me? When did I donate money to the orphanage?”

Of course, she didn’t know because the money came from me—a total of 120,000 yuan, including the 100,000 I had shamelessly borrowed from her.

At first, she refused to lend it, but after I pestered her mercilessly, she gave it to me as one would dismiss a beggar.

Actually, I had learned that the orphanage where I grew up needed some funds to help those orphans find families.

I was an orphan myself, so I deeply understood the immense value of finding a family.

But I had no money, so after much thought, I asked Jiang Yue for help.

I knew she wouldn’t give more, so I only borrowed the 100,000 yuan, and only after much nagging did she hand it over.

Since then, whenever money was involved, she thought I was always coveting her wealth.

What she didn’t know was that the donation to the orphanage was made in her name.

Still confused, Jiang Yue listened as Fang Ting added, “Director Jiang, I think we can use this opportunity. Our company really needs this kind of exposure right now.”

Jiang Yue thought for a moment and said, “Don’t rush to see the reporters. Invite the orphanage director to my office. I want to ask some questions.”

“Okay.”

Fang Ting left, but Jiang Yue remained perplexed.

A few minutes later, Fang Ting brought the orphanage director into the office.

After all these years, the orphanage director was no longer the old Mrs. Yang who had cared for me back then.

This new director was unfamiliar to me; I heard she was recommended by Mrs. Yang and was a kind person.

The new director entered Jiang Yue's office with a smile, speaking politely, “Director Jiang, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

Jiang Yue forced a smile and had Fang Ting pour some tea.

She leaned over the desk and asked the new director, “Hello, may I ask your name?”

“My surname is Shi, Shi Li.”

“Director Shi, I’d like to ask—what exactly is going on here?”

Director Shi hesitated for a moment, then seemed to recall something. “Director Jiang, didn’t you make a donation to our orphanage before?”

“When did I make such a donation?”

Director Shi paused again, then said, “Oh! I remember now. Your husband came here saying it would be in your name. Your husband was once a child in our orphanage.”