Chapter 82: The Diary from Years Ago

On the other side.

Jiang Zhiwu returned to her room, her emotions unable to settle for a long time.

She hadn’t explained anything to Bo Jin Xiu.

Because there was simply no way to explain.

How could she say that she’d been violated while unconscious? That even now, she didn’t know who had done it?

She had fallen into depression because of it once. It had taken her some time to pull herself out.

She had painstakingly crumpled that incident into a paper ball and buried it in the deepest corner of her heart, pretending nothing had ever happened.

So, she didn’t want to talk about it.

Even more, she didn’t want anyone probing into her most secret pain.

Early the next morning,

Bo Jin Xiu emerged from his room.

He happened to see Jiang Zhiwu coming down the stairs.

“Good morning, darling,” Jiang Zhiwu greeted him as usual.

“Morning,” Bo Jin Xiu replied.

The two ate breakfast together, then each left for their respective companies.

Everything seemed as usual.

But in truth, they both knew that the more they pretended nothing had happened, the deeper the rift grew between them.

After arriving at the television station, Jiang Zhiwu and the cameraman Zhao Yuan headed out to Paradise Resort.

Today she was to conduct an interview and gather the most unfiltered material, intending to produce a long-term feature on the resort’s construction progress.

Paradise Resort was located in the most remote outskirts of Rong City.

Mountains and rivers surrounded it, the scenery exquisite.

It took two hours by car to reach the project office.

The project’s executive manager greeted them.

“Reporter Jiang, our project director is currently presiding over the groundbreaking ceremony. He’ll be available for your interview shortly.”

Jiang Zhiwu spoke, “Then let’s go take a look together, and snap some photos while we’re at it.”

She and Zhao Yuan were led to the ceremony site.

The project’s chief was delivering the opening speech.

Jiang Zhiwu was a little surprised.

It was Yan Feng.

Such a major project, and the Yan Corporation had entrusted Yan Feng with the lead.

Yan Feng stood atop a makeshift platform, microphone in hand, giving his speech.

He wore a crisp white shirt, suit and tie, black trousers—impeccably dressed, tall and elegant.

Standing on the stage, he cut a striking, spirited figure.

Jiang Zhiwu’s thoughts drifted suddenly to their student days.

Back in their first year of university.

One day, Yan Feng had suddenly run up to her demanding a gift: “Little Zhiwu, this afternoon, go buy me a suit.”

She was baffled. “Why?”

“Tomorrow is the graduation ball. I want to wear a suit and dance with you.”

“Buy it yourself, then.”

“But if you gift it to me, it’s not the same as buying it myself, is it? This will be the first suit of my life.”

In the end, Jiang Zhiwu picked out a suit for him, with a blue tie.

Yan Feng wore it proudly.

As they danced, he kept asking if he looked handsome.

Those youthful days seemed so long ago.

Yet sometimes, it felt like just yesterday.

Jiang Zhiwu wasn’t nostalgic, merely wistful.

Even if they weren’t lovers, for their first twenty years, they had regarded each other as the most important friend in their lives.

How had things come to this?

Time, she thought, was both magical and cruel.

Lost in thought, she realized Yan Feng had finished his speech.

Next came the unveiling and the toast.

It was all ceremonial, finished quickly.

Executive Manager Hao Zhen hurried onto the stage, whispering something in Yan Feng’s ear.

Then a gaze swept toward Jiang Zhiwu.

Their eyes met.

They weren’t far apart, yet it felt as though a thousand mountains and rivers lay between them.

Yan Feng quickly stepped off the stage, coming to her side.

His voice was a little awkward, a little delighted: “Little Zhiwu, I hadn’t expected you would be the one interviewing today. If I’d known, I’d have welcomed you myself.”

Her smile was faint, her tone formal: “Director Yan, you’re too kind. I’m just here for an interview and to take some site photos.”

“Of course. Whatever you need, we’ll cooperate.”

The interview went smoothly.

Jiang Zhiwu and Zhao Yuan prepared to take photos around the site.

Yan Feng hurried after them.

“I’ll accompany you.”

Her voice was calm: “Director Yan, you’re busy. No need to trouble yourself.”

Yan Feng insisted, “The resort is vast, and you may not be familiar with some areas. Let me show you around.”

In the end, Jiang Zhiwu didn’t refuse—after all, it was his domain.

Yan Feng and Jiang Zhiwu walked in front.

Cameraman Zhao Yuan followed, pausing occasionally to snap pictures.

Yan Feng truly took his role as tour guide seriously.

The place was enormous, though construction had only just begun today.

Some smaller subcontractors had already arrived, clearing the grounds.

Excavators, tower cranes, loaders were everywhere.

Throughout, Yan Feng watched Jiang Zhiwu’s expression.

She remained calm from start to finish—detached, professional.

Yet she hadn’t always been like this with him.

“Little Zhiwu…”

He finally couldn’t help but stop.

She stopped as well, turning to face him. “Director Yan, given our current relationship, perhaps you should call me Reporter Jiang.”

“Don’t you want to know why, back then, I parted ways with you?”

Her brows furrowed.

Her voice carried a hint of irony: “I’m actually quite interested in that.”

Their past held too many mysteries.

No matter their relationship now, the desire for truth was instinctive.

Yan Feng’s eyes brimmed with regret and guilt.

“Did you know Xia Ling could imitate your handwriting? She copied it perfectly. She stole your diary during that summer camp we attended together. She pretended she’d accidentally taken your notebook and asked me to return it to you. But I couldn’t resist looking…”

At that, Jiang Zhiwu guessed what followed.

Xia Ling must have written something, using her handwriting to sow discord between them.

“What did Xia Ling write that made you too afraid to even question me?”

She could guess—it was probably related to that incident.

Yan Feng’s gaze flickered, his face clouded with embarrassment: “That diary is still in my room’s safe at the Yan house. You know the code. If you want the truth, you can look.”

Jiang Zhiwu replied coolly, “Alright, I understand.”

She didn’t care to see how Xia Ling had stirred things up.

But she’d searched for clues about that incident for a long time.

She had always suspected Xia Ling’s involvement.

If Xia Ling had used it to drive a wedge between her and Yan Feng, it would surely be in the diary.

She had to look.

She needed to uncover the truth completely.

Even after hearing the truth, Jiang Zhiwu’s expression remained indifferent, as though pouring cold water over Yan Feng.

“Little Zhiwu, I admit I was blind—not just my eyes, but my heart. I was manipulated and provoked by Xia Ling. Can you give me another chance? I want to make amends for everything I owe you.”