Chapter 14
There was nothing left for me to say.
Zhou Zeyu was just too confident.
In his mind, all he had to do was turn around, and I would still be standing there, waiting for him—like always.
Let him believe that.
Because one day, he'll finally look back and realize:
I've already gone too far.
He can't catch up.
And more importantly, he no longer deserves me.
Half a year later, the University of A celebrated its 100th anniversary.
The campus buzzed with energy. Alumni from across the decades poured in.
I stood on the auditorium stage, as one of the university's most distinguished graduates.
The platform was full of honored guests.
Zhou Zeyu was among them.
He probably never imagined that I'd be the one delivering a keynote speech, standing under the spotlight, poised and composed.
Behind me, a massive screen cycled through my accolades—research breakthroughs, published papers, international awards. My name would now be engraved in the school's Centennial Hall of Honor.
When my speech ended, the applause was thunderous.
Somewhere in the audience, someone shouted with youthful admiration, "She's amazing!"
I smiled. I bowed. And I walked offstage.
Wandering the campus after, I was constantly stopped—students asking for photos, autographs, just a moment of my time.
It took effort just to move from one spot to the next.
Then, amid the crowd, I saw Zhou Zeyu approaching—this time with Zhou Yiran beside him, now grown, his eyes wide with pride.
"Mom!" Yiran ran over, bubbling with excitement. "I saw your speech just now! It was amazing! Everyone around me kept saying how cool you are!"
I smiled gently and gave him a soft "thank you."
Then I turned to leave.
But Zhou Zeyu called out nervously behind me, "Shen Xi."
I paused and glanced back.
His expression was still tinged with disbelief—like he couldn't quite grasp when exactly I had changed.
I was no longer that middle-aged woman who orbited around him and their child, anxious and self-sacrificing.
I had become something entirely beyond his reach.
"You were incredible today," he said honestly. "I didn't realize how much you'd achieved… in academia, in life."
I raised an eyebrow. "So, you are capable of recognizing your own mediocrity."
A flush of embarrassment crept up his neck, but he quickly masked it.
"I didn't want to get back together because of your achievements," he insisted. "I've been trying to reconnect with you even before I knew about all this."
"I know you've always resented me for what happened," he continued, voice rising with a tinge of desperation. "But I swear—I've always loved you. What I had with Lin Yaqi… it was just newness. Vanity. I never planned to divorce you. She and I—it was just a game."
A game?
I almost laughed out loud. In both lives, that had to be the most insulting line I'd ever heard.
But I let him finish.
"I fought so hard for custody back then because I thought it would make you stay. I figured you'd never leave your son… but then you actually gave up custody." His voice cracked slightly. "And I was already on the tiger's back—I had no choice but to follow through with the divorce."
He stepped closer. "But after that, I didn't try to build anything with Lin Yaqi. I was just waiting—for you to come back. Every time I slept with her, I used protection. I never even considered letting her get pregnant."
Oh.
So now I was supposed to feel… grateful?
Grateful that he cheated on me with protection?
Thank you, Zhou Zeyu, for being so considerate while you betrayed me—both in body and in soul.