Beg Me to Remarry
Chapter 529 - 530: He who Carries His Own Radiance

Chapter 529: Chapter 530: He who Carries His Own Radiance

Fu Han looked up and immediately saw the concern in Nan Qing’s eyes that she couldn’t hide. Her heart softened, and she nodded, "I know."

Turns out even though Nan Qing never asked her about it, she still knew there was a problem between her and He Xing. And now, Nan Qing came to advise her with such worry. Real emotions and pretense, you really can tell them apart at a glance.

Fu Han went downstairs, outside the main door was a simple garden built in the middle of the community: a pavilion, a small square, a lawn, and some very ordinary flowers and plants.

At first glance, she didn’t see He Xing and wondered where on earth he might be.

It was only after she thoroughly scanned the surroundings that she found He Xing sitting in the pavilion, leaning against the railing, his head slightly tilted as if lost in thought.

The hazy light mixed with the ambient glow fell on He Xing, making him appear as if he radiated his own soft, albeit not intense, light that gave a warm strength.

Mysteriously, Fu Han’s heart grew tender, or to be precise, it softened after she heard those two sentences from Nan Qing.

Step by step she walked toward He Xing. The closer she got to him, the more she felt like she was walking down the aisle; the unfinished wedding ceremony with He Xing once again surfaced in Fu Han’s mind. If only she could have suppressed the grievances in her heart then and completed the wedding.

But in reality, as time went by, Fu Han had already made it clear that, as long as she was Fu Han, she would definitely not marry He Xing that day.

Her view on love would never change: take it or leave it forever; and her eyes could tolerate no deceit. He Xing’s behavior at the time was no different from wedding fraud. How could she still let him deceive her when she already knew?

"Xiaohan, you’re here?" He Xing’s deep voice rang out, like wind brushing through leaves, a gentle and textured rustling sound drifting over.

Fu Han’s heart felt like it was cradled by a pair of warm hands, warmed in an instant.

She nodded, thinking where she should sit. No matter whether they were to discuss matters or not, Fu Han didn’t want to sit next to He Xing.

To her surprise, He Xing suddenly stood up. He pulled Fu Han over and made her sit where he had been sitting, "This seat is warmed up, it’s better for you to sit here."

Fu Han finally remembered that the seats inside the pavilion were made of marble, which was fine for summer but extremely cold in winter. Many elderly people would even bring a cushion to prevent the cold when they came out for walks and needed to sit and rest.

She nodded obediently and sat down, feeling the warmth growing inside her.

He Xing settled himself less than ten centimeters away from Fu Han. This distance was neither too far nor too close. One could deliberately avoid the other, or sit close if desired.

Fu Han seemed to show nothing on the surface, but she felt like laughing inside. She hadn’t expected He Xing to be like this, wanting to get close yet cautiously maintaining an outward calm. His little thoughts were quite endearing.

A gust of wind blew by. The wind in winter is always particularly cold, especially when the rustling sound of the wind passing through the trees made it feel even more bone-chilling.

Seeing that Fu Han didn’t seem inclined to speak, He Xing cleared his throat and slowly began, "Xiaohan, I need to apologize to you. I was a bit harsh when I spoke with you today, please don’t be angry."

Fu Han’s eyelids lifted slightly, and she looked at He Xing with a hint of confusion. Honestly, she hadn’t expected He Xing to be so direct.

On the other side, He Xing waited for a while without getting a response from Fu Han. His heart was uneasy, and he couldn’t help speaking again, "Xiaohan, it’s not what I meant. I know Xia Ning can be quite willful at times, but she..."

At this point, He Xing sighed, continuing with a tone that had both helplessness and a touch of impatience, "Sometimes I’m also angry at what Xia Ning does, but Aunt Du Wanting is innocent. If she knew her daughter was missing her, she would be very happy. So you... I mean..."

Fu Han had been silent before as she was thinking about how to respond to He Xing. But now, hearing what he said, she truly didn’t want to answer.

She looked at He Xing with eyes that were starting to fill with anger, but she was trying her best to suppress it.

"Xiaohan, I’ve said everything I want to say. Do you have anything you’d like to say? Please tell me," He Xing said. Without getting a response from Fu Han, he became slightly irritable, his eyebrows furrowing.

Fu Han tilted her head and looked at He Xing, voicing her first sentence since coming down, "Alright, I understand what you mean."

"And then?" He Xing stared at Fu Han with wide eyes, for the first time showing a look of shock on his face.

"And then?" Fu Han’s lips curved into a smile, "What else? We are all independent individuals, and everyone has their own opinions, which is normal. Grown-ups don’t need to think about convincing others; what we need to do is convince ourselves to accept other people’s points of view."

A low sigh escaped from He Xing’s lips, and in an instant, it seemed like flames were about to burst forth from his eyes, but he hid them away.

A few seconds later, his calm voice rang out again, "So I can interpret that you’re convincing yourself to accept my point of view, right?"

"Right," Fu Han nodded, her beautiful face expressionless, all the more radiant like a cold plum blossom.

He Xing’s hand resting on his knee slightly curved as he asked calmly, still coughing, "So, have you convinced yourself to accept my point of view?"

Fu Han’s lips curled up slightly, her smile somewhat mocking as she looked at He Xing, her words firm, "No!"

Wrinkles crawled like serpents in the night along He Xing’s trousers, and the prominent knuckles of his fingers showed tensely pulsing veins.

Time ticked on, and Fu Han and He Xing faced each other in silence. The air seemed to be filled with invisible sparks flying—a battle of wills, each eroding the other’s defenses.

In retrospect, this was probably the first time Fu Han had confronted He Xing from such a close distance. Under He Xing’s immense pressure, she felt almost unable to breathe.

Her hands clenched tightly into fists, her sharp nails pressing against her palms, as if drawing strength from an unseen source, forcing herself not to give in despite her exhaustion.

How much time had passed, He Xing sighed deeply again, "Alright, Fu Han, I respect your decision."

Truth be told, if He Xing had said anything else, Fu Han wouldn’t be as angry as she was at that moment. Just the tone of his voice made her feel like she could explode on the spot.