Rich Young Mistress: Young Master Xie’s Dearest Beloved Wife

Seeing Bai Yaoyao holding her luggage, Xirong Ziye had a sudden urge to take it away from her. However, his hands gripped only empty air at his sides, and he could only stare as she walked towards the door.

“It’s still raining outside. Leave tomorrow!”

Bai Yaoyao froze. She thought that he would try to make her stay and say that he chose her. Indeed, deep inside, she was looking forward to such a moment.

This man had hurt her too deeply.

She wouldn’t keep her feelings for him, nor would she miss him.

Her pause didn’t last that long. After a moment, she continued to walk out of the villa, ignoring the pouring rain outside.

Xirong Ziye opened an umbrella over Bai Yaoyao’s head, but she just turned around and said, “Thank you, but I’m okay. I can leave on my own.”

“I’ll send you off.”

“No, don’t let the reporters see this.”

This single sentence caused Xirong Ziye to pause in his steps. The White House used to be a private venue, and reporters couldn’t enter easily. However, ever since his engagement, reporters started appearing all around the place. No matter how much he thought about it, he couldn’t wrap his head around it—he felt that someone had hired these reporters on purpose. It was probably done by the elders who protested against his presidency or the officials that he had pressured before.

Bai Yaoyao did not bother with the umbrella. She allowed the rain to soak her clothes, as though it would make her feel more alive.

The night sky was dark, and the rain fell like tears.

After leaving the White House, she boarded a luxurious black car and left quickly.

Xirong Ziye stared at Bai Yaoyao’s departing figure, which was slowly disappearing from his sight. His heart felt numb and empty, as though he had just lost everything.

He dropped his umbrella and chased after her, but the streets were now empty. The only sound he could hear was coming from the heavy downpour. It seemed like Bai Yaoyao simply vanished into thin air.

Xirong Ziye shouted, “Yaoyao! Yaoyao!”

He shouted her name over and over again, as though he had lost all his bearings. He felt like he could only feel better shouting in this manner.

In the end, Xirong Ziye was dragged back into the villa by a specially trained bodyguard.

When he was finally inside, Xirong Ziye sat in the empty house, which reflected the emptiness he felt inside. It suddenly felt unbearable to be there.

Just as he was struggling with his true feelings, his phone rang—Xiamu Qingyan’s name appeared on the screen of his cell phone.

Xirong Ziye answered the call, but did not speak.

He heard Xiamu Qingyan’s voice saying, “Ziye, are you okay? Are you home? It’s raining, so I’m a little worried about you.”

Xiamu Qingyan’s gentle voice was like a spring wind blowing past him, slowly warming his numb heart as he regained his senses.

“Where are you? Ziye?”

After a while, Xirong Ziye replied slowly, “I’m okay. I’ve already arrived home. Don’t worry.”

“My father said that you left your bag here, so I’ll bring it over to you. I’m already on my way there.”

After hearing her words, Xirong Ziye knew that he couldn’t afford to stay at the White House any longer. He promptly left and returned to his villa.

…

Yun Bilu was in the car that Bai Yaoyao got on. She didn’t talk and simply held the latter’s hand tightly, silently comforting and providing her some strength.

In the background, a song was playing in the car. It was a trending song called “If Only Life Was Like Our First Meeting.”

The lyrics echoed softly inside the car. “When we first met, our ignorant selves, those youthful days, those unforgettable times… When that time passes, both you and I… carved those memories deep within our hearts…”