Beg Me to Remarry
Chapter 674 - 675: Never Give Up

The two girls talked about a lot, but in fact, they couldn’t even remember what they talked about. They were both so happy chatting, as though they were letting out all the thoughts they had been accumulating for a long time.

On reflection, their friendship had lasted over four years. They had spent more than a thousand days and nights together. They had intertwined their lives to the point where each of them would be a striking mark in the life of the other.

Perhaps it was because it had been so long since either of them had heart-to-heart talks with others, Fu Han and Nan Qing talked as if they had endless things to say, non-stop.

But in fact, neither Fu Han nor Nan Qing was the type to have a strong desire to confide; it was because they were perfect confidantes for each other, and their core values were mostly aligned, which made them willing to speak their minds when talking to each other.

Unnoticed, the moon hid behind the clouds, and many of the neon lights of the night had gone out; only a few stars still twinkled sporadically in the sky, shining like diamonds, precious as pearls lost in the vast ocean.

Nan Qing had already yawned several times and was finally overcome by sleepiness. She bundled up the blanket over her body, looked up at Fu Han, and said, "Okay, I’m going to sleep. So it’s settled, whether the other gets married or not, we’ll invite each other to be a bridesmaid."

"Got it, you’ve said that several times already," Fu Han replied with a smile. She too was feeling the weight of sleep on her eyelids. Reaching over, she turned off the light and closed her eyes to sleep.

How much time had passed was unclear when suddenly, the sound of vibration came through, each buzz louder than the last.

Fu Han was so sleepy that her eyelids felt as heavy as mountains. She thought fuzzily to herself that it would stop ringing soon; no need to bother with it.

Suddenly, Nan Qing’s drowsy voice rang out, "Fu Han, your phone is ringing."

Fu Han could barely open her eyes. She fumbled around and finally found her phone on the nightstand. She managed to swipe at the screen and said in a dazed voice, "Hello?"

A man’s deep voice came through from the other end, "Fu Han, do you remember the message I sent you?"

That voice successfully drove away the drowsiness from Fu Han, and she was instantly wide awake, "Ah? You... I..."

"Don’t talk, come out!" the man cut her off and hung up the phone without giving Fu Han a chance to speak.

Fu Han was holding the phone and nearly fell back to sleep. She forced her eyes open to see if the call had been a dream and indeed saw the caller was Wang Yixuan.

Her sleepiness completely vanished, and she propped herself up on the bed, ready to get up.

Suddenly, Nan Qing’s voice came over from beside her, "Fu Han, who’s calling you so late at night?"

If Wang Yixuan’s words had just woken Fu Han up, Nan Qing’s words were like a bucket of cold water poured over her head, chasing away any sleepiness completely.

"Ah... it was... He Xing," Fu Han replied with as calm a voice as possible. "He said I didn’t reply to a message he sent, He was worried something had happened to me, so he called to check."

Her words disappeared like stones sunk into the ocean, eliciting no response.

The room was terrifyingly quiet, as if, apart from Fu Han, there was no one else around.

In the pitch-black night where she could not see her hand in front of her face, Fu Han strained her eyes to look in Nan Qing’s direction, but all she saw was complete darkness.

She waited for Nan Qing to speak but feared that Nan Qing was also awake. Internally, she counted silently, and after approximately a minute, she tentatively called out, "Nan Qing? Nan Qing, are you asleep?"

Still, there was no response. At this moment, it felt as if Fu Han was alone in the world.

Out of caution, Fu Han waited nearly another minute. This time, her heart was much calmer, and she could hear Nan Qing’s even breathing.

Once she was sure Nan Qing was asleep, Fu Han finally let out a sigh of relief. Slowly she rose, her feet reaching toward the floor, tentatively searching for her slippers.

Her feet touched the cold wooden floor, sending an icy chill through her. Fu Han had a thousand urges to return to the warmth of her bed, but she couldn’t.

Finally, she put on her shoes. Not daring to turn on the light, she groped her way toward the door, experiencing the profound sensation of blindness, devoid of any sense of direction.

It was the first time in her life that Fu Han felt like a thief in her own room, fearful that any small noise might wake Nan Qing.

At last, she reached the doorknob. She held her breath and slowly opened the door, her nervousness pausing her very breathing. At that moment, she could even entertain the thought that spies of the past must have felt the same way, anxious and scared of being discovered.

Fu Han only dared to open the door a crack, squeezing out through the slight opening.

Once she was out, Fu Han leaned back against the wall, her chest heaving as she caught her breath, her heart pounding.

When her breathing had steadied, she finally considered a problem. The living room was pitch-black. Where was Wang Yixuan?

Suddenly, there was a click—a sound of the door lock turning, which, in the still night, seemed exceedingly piercing, like a deafening blare.

Light was spilling out from the room diagonal to Fu Han’s, an area that used to be Nan Qing’s Art Studio but was now Wang Yixuan’s bedroom.

Ever since Wang Yixuan moved in, Fu Han had not once entered that room. She had assumed he would be waiting in the living room, but now it seemed the living room wasn’t a suitable place for a conversation.

Fu Han straightened her clothes, ensuring she was wearing the most modest pajamas she had. Her mind somewhat eased, she walked towards the open door step by step.

With each step she took, countless thoughts flooded her mind. She felt a tremendous unease about what Wang Yixuan might want to talk about, unable to guess at all.

Finally, Fu Han stood at the door and saw Wang Yixuan standing in front of the easel.

From her angle, she could only see the side of Wang Yixuan’s face. As for the painting on the easel, it was completely out of her sight.

The window on the other side of the room was not covered by the curtain, revealing a night of impenetrable darkness, thick as undissolvable ink, devouring everything in the world.

Beyond the darkness was still just darkness. The world wasn’t full of vibrant colors but a despairing black.