Paper Lover At Old Town Bookstore Chapter 6

Betrayal Under the Warm Sun

I picked up my phone again, my fingers white as I stared at the screen. My breathing was shallow, as if breathing any heavier might shatter the cruel narrative unfolding.

The chapter title was glaring: Betrayal Under the Warm Sun. And the opening description felt like an ice pick driven straight into my heart.

Time passed quickly in the novel; a year flashed by. Xu Xingruo had given birth to a son for Yang Changwen, named An’an.

The book described how she had quit the job she once cherished, now revolving her life entirely around her child and family. The bright, luminous eyes she once possessed were now filled only with gentle exhaustion.

She would feed An’an late at night, wake up early in the morning to prepare breakfast, and carefully leave a light on when Yang Changwen returned late. Her entire world was this home, and the man who had once promised her “a lifetime of devotion.”

But the very next paragraph tore that warmth to shreds.

Yang Changwen began returning home late frequently, sometimes even staying out all night. His excuses were always “busy with work” or “social obligations.”

Xu Xingruo never suspected anything. She always felt that Yang Changwen was the pillar of their home, and earning money to support the family was difficult, so she should be more understanding.

Until that day, when she took An’an to the mall to buy formula and spotted that familiar figure from a distance.

Standing beside him was a young girl, who looked very young, perhaps only eighteen or nineteen. She was about 158cm tall, a full 10cm shorter than Xu Xingruo, wearing a puffy princess dress and pigtails, her face alight with an innocent smile.

And Yang Changwen was looking down at her tenderly, reaching out to brush a fallen leaf from her hair. Then, he leaned down and kissed her lips.

The can of formula in Xu Xingruo’s hand clattered to the floor. The powder spilled everywhere, just like her heart, shattered beyond repair.

She couldn’t believe her eyes. Instinctively, she hid behind a shelf, clutching An’an tightly and covering her mouth to stifle her sobs.

An’an seemed to sense his mother’s distress, puckered his lips, and began to cry softly.

Xu Xingruo could only desperately hold back her tears, comforting the child in her arms, while her gaze remained fixed on the two people not far away.

Yang Changwen held the young girl’s hand and led her into a dessert shop. He pulled out a chair for her, ordered her favorite strawberry cake, and even spoon-fed her with a smile. The tenderness and indulgence in his eyes were something Xu Xingruo hadn’t felt since she became pregnant.

The young girl was named Li Qinglian. The book described her as a new intern at Yang Changwen’s company, innocent and adorable, and very good at charming him, wrapping Yang Changwen around her little finger.

Yang Changwen lied to her, claiming he was single, and promised to marry her once she graduated.

They went shopping together, watched movies together, and embraced and kissed on the streets late at night, just like any couple in love.

And Xu Xingruo had been kept completely in the dark about all of it.

As I read the words on the screen, tears streamed down my face again, uncontrollable. The anger and heartache intertwined, threatening to drown me.

Yang Changwen, that scumbag! How could he be so cruel? Xu Xingruo gave up her career, sacrificed her pride for him, bore his child, managed his household, and wore herself out, yet what did he do? He was secretly flirting with another young girl, using deceitful affection to hurt two women!

I remembered the old Xu Xingruo—the corporate woman who was decisive in the marketplace and never backed down from a challenge. How could she have fallen to this point?

She was so smart, so clear-headed, yet because of a misguided love, she trapped herself in the cage of marriage, kept in the dark, foolishly giving everything she had.

An’an was still crying in her arms, but Xu Xingruo felt as if all her strength had been drained away. She could only numbly pat the child’s back.

The book described her standing behind the shelf, watching the two people chatting happily in the dessert shop. Only after they left did she slowly squat down to clean up the scattered formula on the floor. Her fingers were trembling, and tears dripped onto the cold tiles, spreading into small wet patches.

She didn’t rush over to confront him, nor did she cry or make a scene. She simply held her child silently and left the mall.

All the way home, her mind was blank. Yang Changwen’s sweet words, Li Qinglian’s innocent smile, the images of them embracing and kissing—they replayed in her mind repeatedly, like knives repeatedly slicing her heart.

Back home, she managed to lull An’an to sleep, then sat on the sofa, sleepless through the night.

She looked at the wedding photo hanging on the wall. In the picture, she smiled so happily, so brightly. Now, that happiness had become a colossal joke.

I turned off my phone, my chest tight, unable to breathe. Tears flowed down my cheeks non-stop. I felt that Xu Xingruo had been wronged, I felt heartache for her, and I felt furious on her behalf.

I desperately wished she would wake up immediately, wished she would rush over and slap Yang Changwen, wished she would take An’an and leave that scumbag, starting her life anew.

But I also knew how difficult it was for Xu Xingruo now. She had been out of the workforce for a year, and she had a nursing child. She had no income, no support. How easy would it be to leave?

I thought about my own state over the past few days, how I had become quiet and withdrawn because of Xu Xingruo’s story, reverting to the introverted Song Qiusheng I used to be.

I suddenly felt that I couldn’t continue like this. Xu Xingruo was miserable enough; I couldn’t sink into despair along with her.

I needed to draw strength from her story, as I had before, instead of being defeated by her misfortune.

Perhaps this is life—it always contains sudden betrayals and hurts. But we cannot give up on ourselves because of them; we cannot lose our courage.

Just like the old Xu Xingruo, no matter how great the difficulty, she had to bravely stand up again.

I wiped away my tears, opened my private document, and typed a line: “Xu Xingruo, you must wake up, you must bravely fight back. You are not alone. You have An’an, and you have us, your supporting readers. You were so formidable once; you can definitely stand up again!”

After writing it, I took a deep breath and reopened the novel app.

I knew the upcoming plot might be even more heartbreaking, but I had to keep reading.

I needed to witness Xu Xingruo’s awakening, watch her counterattack, and see her reclaim the light that belonged to her.

This time, I was no longer afraid, nor would I back down. Because I knew that no matter how convoluted the plot, no matter how difficult life became, courage and resilience would always be our most powerful weapons.