Tethered to You: A Billionaire Romance

Chapter 15: Slow to Forget (Part 2)

Because she had arrived late, the only available seats were in the first few rows, surrounded entirely by strangers. Qi Dandan was completely absent. During her frantic commute, Zhiwei had received a barrage of texts from her friend, explaining she had a hot date and begging Zhiwei to take meticulous notes so she could copy them later.

Dandan had recently started seeing a new guy and was currently deep in the honeymoon phase. Consequently, her class attendance had become disastrously sporadic. She had managed to show up last week, but her focus was entirely shot. Halfway through the lecture, she couldn't sit still, whispering frantically that her boyfriend was waiting in his car outside the campus gates and it was cruel to make him wait alone. She had decided to sneak out early.

Amused, Zhiwei had whispered back, "Are you really that inseparable?"

Holding up her fingers right there in the lecture hall, Dandan had dramatically mouthed, "Twenty-six! Sister, I am twenty-six years old. The pressure is on! Finding a decent man is a nightmare. I have to keep a close eye on him, or I'll end up with nothing but a bucket of water!"

Her exaggerated gestures had caught the attention of the professor standing at the podium. Pointing his microphone toward their row, he had called out, "You there, the student who just raised her hand! Please answer the question on the board."

By proximity, the entire auditorium had turned to look at Zhiwei as well. Mortified, she had buried her burning face in her hands.

Tonight, the same professor was lecturing. He had clearly memorized both of their faces. The moment Zhiwei slipped into her seat, he strolled past her desk and casually remarked, "Flying solo tonight? Where is your very eager, hand-raising friend?"

A fresh wave of embarrassment washed over her. Having absolutely no idea how to respond, she simply offered a weak, apologetic smile.

Finally managing to calm her racing heart, she buried herself in the lecture, furiously copying down the core exam criteria. Just as she found her rhythm, her cell phone began blaring loudly from inside her purse, once again drawing the irritated stares of hundreds of students.

In her panicked rush to get to class, combined with her severely frayed nerves, she had completely forgotten to switch her phone to silent—a rookie mistake she almost never made. Frantically digging through her bag, she whispered endless apologies to the students around her.

From the stage, the professor paused his lecture, offering another dry quip. "Well, it seems one of our classmates felt the academic atmosphere was getting a bit too dull and decided to provide us with some mood music."

A ripple of laughter echoed through the massive amphitheater. Her face burning crimson, her fingers finally closed around the device. Before hitting the silence button, she glanced at the glowing screen.

It was He Weiwen.

Letting out a long, heavy internal sigh, she aggressively switched the phone to silent, flipped it face down, and shoved it deep into her desk drawer. She didn't look at it again for the rest of the session.

When the mid-lecture break finally arrived, she stepped out into the chilly hallway to return the call.

He answered on the first ring. Before she could even say hello, he launched into a frantic barrage of apologies, claiming he had just wanted to chat and had completely forgotten she had class tonight.

Keeping her responses brief and polite, she was just about to end the call when he suddenly blurted out, "Zhiwei, wait!"

"What is it?" she asked softly, wincing as a sharp pain flared in her throat.

He hesitated, clearly gathering his courage. "What time do you get out? I was thinking... maybe we could grab a late-night snack? I know this great congee place right near your campus. It's delicious and really cheap. I could come pick you up."

"Thank you, but no. I have to work tomorrow, and I really need to get some sleep," she replied, her tone gentle but absolutely unyielding.

"Oh," he exhaled, the single syllable stretched out, heavy with profound disappointment.

Disconnecting the call, she finally allowed herself to succumb to the agonizing tickle in her chest, doubling over in the freezing hallway as a violent coughing fit racked her body. Standing alone in the winter wind, she stared blankly into the night.

Why is this day never-ending? she thought miserably. It feels like it's lasted a century.

The lecture officially concluded at eight-forty. Trudging back to the subway, she found the cars were still packed with late-night commuters. Exhausted beyond measure, she wedged herself into a corner near the doors, leaning her aching back against the freezing metal handrail just to stay upright.

By the time she finally entered the labyrinthine alleys of her neighborhood, it was past nine-thirty. There were no municipal streetlights here. Thankfully, most of the residents were still awake. The warm, hazy glow of incandescent bulbs and the muffled, flickering blue light of old televisions spilled from the tightly packed windows, breathing a sense of life and safety into the pitch-black darkness.

Having walked this exact route every day of her life, she felt zero fear. The sheer, desperate anticipation of finally reaching her own bed made her involuntarily quicken her pace. The narrow alleyway was entirely deserted, amplifying the sharp, rhythmic clack-clack of her low heels striking the cracked concrete, the sound echoing far into the gloom.

"Zhiwei."

The sudden materialization of a dark silhouette directly in her path caused her to violently flinch. Stumbling backward, she barely managed to keep her balance. Every hair on her body stood on end, her muscles locking in pure, icy terror.

"Who's there?!"

"Don't be afraid. It's me."

As the familiar voice registered, the shadow stepped forward. The faint, ambient light spilling from a nearby window illuminated his features, finally allowing her to see his face.

She opened her mouth, the raw, burning pain in her throat providing a sharp, physical reminder that this was not a nightmare. This was real.

The initial spike of terror vanished, replaced by an eerie, absolute calm. When she finally spoke, her voice was raspy, but her tone was completely devoid of emotion.

"Mr. Wen. What are you doing here?"

Wen Bailiang had been standing in the freezing, pitch-black alleyway for over an hour. Years ago, he had walked her home down these exact streets countless times. Back then, they were both struggling and broke. Every time they navigated the dark, dilapidated maze, he would pull her close, his heart aching at the squalor she lived in. "Just give me a little more time," he used to promise, holding her tight. "I'm going to buy us a massive apartment. No, a freestanding villa! Villas hold their value better. You deserve to live somewhere beautiful."

He had made those promises constantly.

Standing in the shadows, Bailiang could still vividly recall the man he used to be. He had been so fiercely ambitious, his heart burning with the absolute certainty that he was destined to conquer the world. Everything he wanted felt like it was resting right in the palm of his hand—especially when he looked back and saw her serene, unwavering smile.

Zhiwei possessed a quiet, unassuming beauty. At first glance, she rarely turned heads. But once a man became accustomed to her presence, her calm, steady grace became completely intoxicating.

How pathetic, he thought bitterly. All that grand ambition, all those promises of conquering the world... shattered in the blink of an eye. Reality had taken a baseball bat to his knees, beating him so brutally he couldn't even crawl out of the dirt.

Yet, tonight, he had returned to her world. He had walked into the maze alone, leaving the BMW parked several blocks away to avoid drawing attention. The layout of the old city was a chaotic nightmare, but nothing had changed. The memory of the route was permanently burned into his brain. He remembered every single twist, every blind corner, every cracked paving stone leading to her door. He even recognized the distinct cadence of her footsteps long before he saw her.

Stepping out of the shadows to face her, the brutal two-year separation felt like a mere illusion. He was here, she was here. It felt as if time had simply stopped.

Looking at the familiar, quiet contours of her face, a wave of profound, agonizing nostalgia crashed over him.

Then, she spoke. Her voice was slightly hoarse.

He had fully expected her to address him the way she always had—to call him 'Bailiang.' Instead, the words "Mr. Wen, what are you doing here?" hung in the freezing air. Her tone was so chillingly calm, so utterly detached, it was as if she were addressing a complete stranger who had asked for directions.

Zhiwei herself was surprised by her own absolute composure.

True, in the agonizing aftermath of their breakup, she had relentlessly chanted a mantra of self-preservation: The past is the past. Millions of relationships fail every single day. We didn't sign a blood pact. He had every right to choose someone else. But logical rationalization could not numb the visceral, tearing pain of betrayal. For months, she had woken up in the dead of night, her teeth grinding together, screaming why into the darkness.

Yet, every morning, the cold light of day provided the exact same, brutal answer.

There was no grand mystery. The reality was brutally simple: he didn't need her anymore.

Surviving Wen Bailiang had taught her the most cynical, foundational truth of human relationships: all connections are built on mutual utility.

Once upon a time, Wen Bailiang had needed her absolute devotion to survive the grueling startup phase. But when his empire collapsed, her devotion became useless. He required a savior with the power and capital to drag him out of the abyss. She lacked that power. Therefore, she was discarded.

For two years, she had maintained absolute radio silence. She assumed he had done the same, figuring the toxic, humiliating nature of their final days made the memory too repulsive for either of them to revisit.

But today, the universe had decided to shatter that peace. First, Xia Ziqi had dropped his name like a live grenade over the phone. Now, the ghost himself was physically blocking her path home.

The initial shock of seeing him had sent her heart hammering wildly against her ribs. But her voice remained completely steady. When he failed to answer her first question, she asked another.

"Do you need something?"

Snapping out of his nostalgic trance, Bailiang refocused. He shouldn't have expected a warm reunion. Given the brutal way he had abandoned her, the fact that she wasn't currently screaming or ignoring him completely was a miracle. That brief moment of disorientation had been a foolish lapse in judgment.

"Zhiwei, do you have a few minutes? I really need to talk to you."

Checking her watch, she looked back up at him.

Even during his darkest, most bankrupt days, Bailiang had always been meticulously groomed, permanently armored in a tailored suit. Now, two years later, the upgrade was glaringly obvious. Even in the dim, dirty light of the alleyway, the bespoke cut of his coat and the subtle sheen of expensive fabric radiated wealth.

"It's very late. I have work in the morning," she replied flatly, stepping to the side to bypass him.

Anticipating the evasion, he stepped laterally, blocking her path once again. "I know you hate me. I know you don't want to speak to me."

She practically bit her tongue to stop herself from snapping, Then why the hell are you standing here? Taking a deep, calming breath, she planted her feet. "Are you here to discuss your situation with Chengfang Group?"

The direct question clearly caught him off guard, but he quickly recovered, giving a stiff nod.

She was always too smart for her own good, he thought.

"If you already know about that, why are you still working there? Why are you still working for Yuan Jingrui?"

A cold jolt of alarm shot through her.

While she didn't know the exact details of the corporate conflict, Xia Ziqi’s interrogation had confirmed a crisis existed. Bailiang’s sudden, aggressive reappearance essentially verified her worst fears.

Her ex had undeniably crossed swords with Yuan Jingrui. And given her boss's ruthless nature, the outcome was guaranteed to be catastrophic.

Standing in the gloom, she stared at him, desperately wanting to demand the truth but hesitating.

She refused to be narcissistic enough to assume this corporate warfare was about her. But if it wasn't about her, why had he sought her out in the middle of the night just to deliver a warning?

Maintaining a rigid physical distance, she kept her silence.

The weak, ambient light from the surrounding windows mixed with the pale, freezing moonlight above, illuminating her face. At twenty-five, she still possessed the flawless, resilient glow of youth. Staring at her smooth skin, his mind involuntarily flashed to the heavy foundation desperately clinging to Dai Ailing’s sagging features.

If only he had possessed the power to choose...

"Zhiwei, I know the last two years have been incredibly hard for you. I just want to—"

"You want to do what?" The burning pain in her throat was now migrating to her temples, sparking a vicious headache. "You want to play the savior? I hate to disappoint you, but I'm doing perfectly fine."

"If Yuan Jingrui discovers our past history, he will destroy you."

"I have absolutely no connection to you anymore," she snapped, her brow furrowing in deep irritation. "What exactly did you do to Mr. Yuan?"

He frowned, deeply unsettled by her hostility. This icy, aggressive woman was completely unrecognizable from the gentle, endlessly forgiving girl he remembered. "Zhiwei, drop the defensive act. I know I broke your heart two years ago, and I live with that regret. But if I didn't care about you, I wouldn't have come all this way to warn you. I don't want you dragged into a dangerous crossfire. I don't want to see you get hurt. Do you understand?"

She stared at him, utterly speechless, genuinely horrified that he could deliver such a manipulative, self-serving speech with a straight face.

Before she could form a response, the sharp, metallic clink of a lighter shattered the silence.

Someone had approached them completely unnoticed. Standing just a few feet behind them in the pitch-black alley, the sudden flare of a flame illuminated the intruder's face. Raising his dark, predatory eyes, the man looked at the two of them.

It was Yuan Jingrui.

Snapping the lighter shut, he offered a microscopic, chillingly polite bow. "My apologies. I hope I'm not interrupting."

Having lived in these claustrophobic alleys her entire life, Zhiwei knew exactly how this scene was supposed to play out. If a third party stumbled upon a tense, late-night confrontation between two men and a woman, explosive drama was guaranteed. Physical violence was almost mandatory.

Yet, the three individuals currently standing in the freezing darkness reacted with the terrifying, suffocating restraint of high-society elites.

Shockingly, Bailiang offered the billionaire a tight, formal nod. "Mr. Yuan. I don't know if you remember me. We crossed paths briefly at the annual commerce summit."

Stepping fully into the dim light, Yuan Jingrui offered a faint, razor-sharp smile. "Did we?"

The sheer, suffocating tension of the exchange forced Zhiwei to literally take a step backward, desperately wishing she could melt into the brick wall. Being forced to introduce her ex-fiancé to her terrifying billionaire boss—or vice versa—was a psychological nightmare she absolutely refused to participate in.

Realizing his window had closed, Bailiang prepared to leave. Before turning away, his gaze lingered heavily on Zhiwei's face. The look was deeply complex, loaded with dark, unspoken implications.

She recognized the expression instantly. It was the toxic, possessive jealousy of a man who had discarded a toy, but was suddenly furious to see someone else playing with it.

Furthermore, he was operating under a massive delusion. Yuan Jingrui hadn't "picked her up." She knew better than anyone why the CEO was standing in this alleyway. Xia Ziqi had undoubtedly briefed him on her past relationship. The only thing that surprised her was her boss's terrifying lack of patience. The fact that a man of his staggering wealth and power had personally driven down into the slums in the middle of the night just to confront her was deeply, profoundly unsettling.

Meeting Bailiang's lingering stare, she looked back at him with the cold, dead eyes of a complete stranger.

She finally understood the cynical advice she had read after the breakup: Never look back. Seeing what they've become will only destroy whatever good memories you have left. The man standing before her was a stranger. The naive, passionate, fiercely confident boy she had loved was dead. This new iteration of Wen Bailiang was dark, paranoid, and suffocatingly aggressive, viewing the entire world as a threat.

The fact that this twisted version of him had actively sought her out, solely to issue a paranoid warning about her current employer, was simply bizarre.

As Bailiang’s tailored silhouette vanished into the darkness at the end of the alley, she was left standing entirely alone with Yuan Jingrui.

The silence between them was absolute, thick enough to choke on. The only sign of life was the cherry-red ember of the cigarette burning between the billionaire's fingers.

"Secretary Dong," he murmured suddenly, his voice low and smooth. "You're staring at me. Do you have something you wish to share?"

Jolting in shock, she realized she had been staring blankly at her boss's chest for an embarrassing amount of time.

You can't hide from this, she told herself firmly. Taking a deep, ragged breath, she forced her raspy voice to work.

"Mr. Yuan. It is incredibly late. What are you doing here?"

Tilting his head back, he exhaled a plume of smoke, gazing up at the sliver of night sky visible between the jagged rooftops. It was the first day of the lunar month; only a razor-thin crescent moon hung in the darkness. Beneath his expensive leather shoes lay the cracked, uneven pavement of the slums.

He knew this environment intimately. He could navigate these exact streets blindfolded. When he had first stepped into the pitch-black labyrinth tonight, a powerful wave of vertigo had hit him. For a split second, he felt like he was twenty years old again, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with Yin Feng into the unknown darkness, young, violent, and entirely uncertain if they would survive to see the sunrise.

He had driven straight here the moment Xia Ziqi left his penthouse office. Yet, as he pulled up to the edge of the slum, his legendary rationality had kicked in. He had almost thrown the Jeep into reverse.

Even if her ex-boyfriend was involved in the conspiracy, violently confronting his secretary in the middle of the night was an amateur, emotional reaction. The superior strategic move was to remain entirely passive, observe her behavior over the next few days, and look for signs of betrayal or espionage.

He was a man who conquered empires because he was always ten steps ahead of his enemies. Yet tonight, his own impulsive behavior deeply unnerved him.

Despite his logical deductions, he had still killed the engine, stepped out of the vehicle, and walked into the darkness. He had paused again deep in the alley, genuinely questioning his own sanity.

It was precisely at that moment he heard her voice.

His hearing had always been exceptionally sharp. Even though their conversation was hushed, the acoustics of the narrow brick walls carried the sound perfectly. Taking a few silent steps closer, he had listened to the entire exchange.