"Senior…" Cheng Anya tried to push him away, but he only held her tighter. Deep down, she gave a bitter smile—tonight, this senior was far too unexpected.
Was it Ye Chen's reappearance that shattered his calm?
"Don't say anything. Let me finish." Yang Zekun hugged her tightly, as if he could somehow merge the woman he had loved—who had tormented his heart for seven long years—into his bones, never to be parted again.
"Anya, I love you. God is my witness—I love you. I don't care about Ningning. I knew you had him when I fell for you. But what does that change? I once told myself to give up. I used to play this ridiculously hard game—couldn't beat the final level. So I thought, if I beat it, I'd give up on you."
"It's been seven years. That game isn't hard for me anymore. I've passed the final level countless times. All I had to do was press the NTR key—and I could move on. But I never did. I couldn't. I didn't want to let you go."
"If my love depended on whether you had Ningning, what kind of man would I be? Anya, believe me. In this life, there's only one woman who's ever touched my heart—Cheng Anya."
His gentle voice, tinged with hoarseness, drifted through the night—sorrowful and pained, as if the whole evening wept for his tenderness.
Even the stars seemed to mourn.
Cheng Anya's heart twisted in agony, a dull ache swelling within her, threading through her veins, sinking into her bones. It hurt so much she felt like crying.
A bitter taste filled her mouth—this love was too heavy. She could never repay it in her lifetime.
"Senior… I…" She didn't know how to reject such deep love. If it had been anyone else, she would've slapped him and refused him coldly, without leaving the slightest warmth.
But this was Yang Zekun.
The one who had stayed by her side for seven years, asking for nothing in return.
"Anya, if love is an investment, why not invest your time and energy in me? I, Yang Zekun, will guarantee you a lifetime of happiness."
Her lips parted, but no words came. She bit her lower lip, speechless.
Seven years of restrained emotions exploded like a volcano—burning, fierce. To say she wasn't moved would be a lie.
Yang Zekun was a good man. It was precisely because he was good that she didn't dare carelessly hurt him. If she accepted, it would be a promise for life.
"Just… think about it, okay?" Yang Zekun didn't want to pressure her too much. Though a flicker of disappointment passed in his eyes, it was quickly replaced with gentle affection. Then, abruptly, he changed the subject. "Anya, I know I'm asking a lot—but could you do me a favor?"
"Just say it, Senior. If it's within my power, I'll do it." In a moment like this, even someone with a heart of stone couldn't refuse him.
"Can you pretend to be my girlfriend for a while? Just for show. My grandfather's been pushing me to marry, and I'm tired of going home to find a new woman waiting every day."
He looked sincere—genuinely troubled.
Cheng Anya gave a soft laugh, hiding the bitterness behind it, and nodded. "Okay."