When Rong Ci arrived at the airport in Country A, it was already past nine in the evening.

Today was her birthday.

As she turned on her phone, a flood of birthday wishes poured in—all from colleagues and friends.

But from Feng Tingshen? Not a single message.

Her smile faded.

By the time she reached the villa, it was well past ten.

Aunt Liu, the housekeeper, looked startled when she saw her. "Madam, you... you're here?"

"Where are Tingshen and Xinxin?"

"The master hasn't returned yet, and the young miss is playing in her room."

Handing her luggage to Aunt Liu, Rong Ci headed upstairs and found her daughter in her little pajamas, completely absorbed in something at her tiny desk. She was so focused she didn’t even notice someone had entered.

"Xinxin?"

Feng Jingxin turned at the sound of her voice, beaming. "Mommy!"

Then, just as quickly, she turned back to whatever she was working on.

Rong Ci scooped her into her arms, planting a kiss on her cheek, only to be gently pushed away. "Mommy, I'm still busy!"

Rong Ci hadn't seen her daughter in two months and missed her terribly. No amount of hugs and kisses could satisfy her longing, and she yearned to have a proper conversation with the little girl.

Seeing how engrossed her daughter was, she didn't want to ruin her mood. "Xinxin, are you making a seashell necklace?"

"Mhm!" Feng Jingxin's face lit up at the mention. "Aunt Wu Wu's birthday is in a week! This is the present Daddy and I are making for her. We carefully polished every single shell—aren't they pretty?"

Rong Ci's throat tightened. Before she could respond, her daughter continued cheerfully, her back still turned, "Daddy even got Aunt Wu Wu some other special gifts. Tomorrow—"

A sharp pang struck Rong Ci's chest. She couldn't hold back any longer. "Xinxin... do you remember Mommy's birthday?"

"Huh? What?" Feng Jingxin glanced up briefly before immediately lowering her eyes again to the beads in her hands, frowning. "Mommy, stop talking—you made me mess up the order!"

Rong Ci loosened her embrace and fell silent.

She stood there for a long while, waiting, but her daughter never looked up. Pressing her lips together, Rong Ci finally turned and left the room without another word.

Aunt Liu spotted her in the hallway. "Madam, I just called Mr. Feng. He said he has business tonight and asked you not to wait up."

"I see."

Rong Ci nodded, but her daughter's words lingered in her mind. After a pause, she dialed Feng Tingshen's number.

The line rang for a long time before he answered, his voice distant. "I'm busy. We'll talk tomorrow—"

"Tingshen, who is it so late?"

Lin Wu's voice, light and familiar, drifted through the receiver.

Rong Ci's grip on the phone turned white-knuckled.

"Never mind."

Before Rong Ci could say another word, Feng Tingshen had already hung up.

It had been two or three months since they’d last seen each other. She had finally made the trip to Country A, yet he couldn’t even be bothered to come home—not even for a phone call. He didn’t have the patience to let her finish speaking…

This was how he had always treated her throughout their marriage—cold, distant, impatient.

She was used to it by now.

In the past, she would have called him back, patiently asking where he was and whether he could come home. But today, exhaustion weighed her down, and she suddenly couldn’t muster the energy to try.

The next morning, after some hesitation, she dialed Feng Tingshen’s number again.

There was a seventeen- or eighteen-hour time difference between Country A and home. Here, today was her birthday.

Aside from desperately wanting to see her daughter and Feng Tingshen, the whole reason she had come to Country A was so the three of them could sit down together for a meal on this special day.

That was her birthday wish this year.

Feng Tingshen didn’t answer.

A long while later, a single message finally came through.

**[What is it?]**

Rong Ci: **[Are you free for lunch? Let’s take Xinxin and eat together—just the three of us.]**

"Got it. Let me know once you've set the location."

Rong Ci: "Okay."

After that, Feng Tingshen fell completely silent.

He had forgotten that today was her birthday.

Though Rong Ci had braced herself for it, a pang of disappointment still crept into her heart.

As she finished washing up and prepared to head downstairs, she overheard her daughter and Aunt Liu talking below.

"Isn’t Madam coming? Doesn’t that make you happy, young miss?"

"Dad and I already promised Aunt Wu we’d go to the beach with her tomorrow. If Mom suddenly shows up and tags along, it’ll be so awkward!"

"Besides, Mom’s so mean—she’s always picking on Aunt Wu—"

"Young miss, Madam is your mother. You mustn’t say things like that—it would break her heart, understand?"

"I know, but… Dad and I both like Aunt Wu more. Can’t she be my mom instead?"

"..."

Whatever Aunt Liu said next, Rong Ci could no longer make out.

She had raised her daughter with her own hands, but over the past two years, the girl had grown closer to Feng Tingshen. Last year, when he left for Country A to expand business, their daughter had insisted on following him.

Rong Ci couldn’t bear to part with her—of course she wanted her child to stay by her side.

But she couldn't bear to see her daughter heartbroken, so she reluctantly agreed.

Who would have thought...

Rong Ci stood frozen in place, her face turning deathly pale. For a long moment, she didn’t move.

She had canceled work commitments and flown all the way to Country A, hoping to spend more time with her daughter.

Now, it seemed that wasn’t necessary at all.

Returning to her room, Rong Ci packed the gifts she had brought from home back into her suitcase.

A short while later, Aunt Liu called to say she had taken the child out to play and that Rong Ci could reach her if needed.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Rong Ci felt hollow, adrift in a fog of emptiness.

She had dropped everything to come here, only to realize no one truly needed her.

Her arrival had turned into nothing but a joke.

After what felt like an eternity, she stepped outside.

Aimlessly, she wandered through the streets of this country—both foreign and familiar.

It wasn’t until nearly noon that she remembered she had made lunch plans with Feng Tingshen.

Recalling the words she had overheard that morning, she hesitated over whether to go home and pick up her daughter. Just then, a message from Feng Tingshen flashed on her phone.

**"Urgent matter came up. Lunch canceled."**

Rong Ci watched without a trace of surprise.

She was used to it by now.

In Feng Tingshen's mind, whether it was work commitments or casual gatherings with friends—anything and everything took priority over her, his wife. Plans made with her were canceled on his whims without a second thought. He never once considered how she might feel.

Did it hurt?

Maybe once, long ago.

But now she was numb, too hollow to feel anything at all.

A deeper confusion settled over Rong Ci.

She had come here with such eagerness, only to be met with cold indifference—first from her husband, then from her own daughter.

Lost in thought, she found herself driving to the restaurant she and Feng Tingshen had frequented many times before.

Just as she stepped inside, she spotted them—Feng Tingshen, Lin Wu, and Feng Jingxin, all seated together.

Lin Wu sat cozily beside her daughter on one side of the table, chatting animatedly with Feng Tingshen while playfully teasing the little girl.

Her daughter giggled, kicking her legs excitedly as she leaned in to take a bite of the pastry Lin Wu had just nibbled on.

Feng Tingshen smiled as he served dishes to both women, yet his gaze remained fixed on Lin Wu across the table, as if she were the only one who existed in his world.

So this was the "important matter" Feng Tingshen had mentioned.

And this was the daughter she had carried for ten months, nearly losing her life to bring into the world.

Rong Ci let out a quiet laugh.

She stood there, watching.

After a long moment, she finally tore her eyes away and turned to leave.

Back at the villa, Rong Ci prepared divorce papers.

He had been the dream of her youth, yet he had never truly seen her.

If not for that one reckless night and the pressure from the family patriarch, he would never have married her.

She had once naively believed that if she tried hard enough, one day he would finally notice her.

But reality had slapped her hard across the face.

Nearly seven years had passed.

It was time to wake up.

Placing the divorce papers into an envelope, she instructed Aunt Liu to deliver them to Feng Tingshen. Then, suitcase in hand, she stepped into the car and told the driver, "To the airport."