Chapter 64

Back at the apartment, Shuangyun saw food on the kitchen island that Cheng Lang hadn't had time to put in the refrigerator yet. Looked like he was still going to make her a last lunch.
The two took off their thick coats. Cheng Lang went to wash his hands and cook.
Shuangyun walked behind him, raised her hands and tightly hugged him.
Cheng Lang was about to speak, but Shuangyun immediately let go.
Cheng Lang didn't turn around, but the unspoken joy at this moment also subtly turned into disappointment—he'd thought she was reluctant to part with him.
After a moment, he only asked if she wanted to rest in the bedroom first. She had a long flight in the afternoon.
Shuangyun nodded and said okay.
She went into the bedroom and lay on the bed. Suddenly remembered her phone charger was still here. She'd forgotten to put it in her bag after using it last night.
Shuangyun then got up and looked around the bedroom, didn't find it. She thought maybe Cheng Lang had put it away, so casually opened the desk drawer.
Cheng Lang's things had always been very few. The drawer only had some very simple things. She'd seen them when she came.
But in that now-open drawer, there was a white envelope she hadn't seen before.
The same as the white envelope she'd given him then. This one had written on it: "To Shuangyun Liang."
Was this why he'd gone out this morning?
Was this a parting gift for her?
Her body moved before any reason or morality. Shuangyun picked up that envelope.
The envelope was unusually thick, as if stuffed with more than ten pages of content.
There was faint water sound outside. Cheng Lang was still cooking.
Shuangyun's heart beat heavily. She didn't know what Cheng Lang had prepared for her, why there were so many pages.
Tearing open the envelope's seal, Shuangyun quietly took out that stack of paper and unfolded it.
At the top of the first page, it said: "Personal Financial Statement."
Shuangyun's breathing stopped.
Her gaze moved down. It was Cheng Lang's complete identity information, accounting firm information, and the report date—exactly today.
Shuangyun couldn't carefully check all the information. Her fingers were almost trembling. She roughly flipped through all the content.
On it was all of Cheng Lang's bank account information, property information, investment details, income proof, and tax situation. At the end of the document was the accountant's certification statement and signature and seal.
He'd gone out for this. To print it or pick it up? Shuangyun couldn't know, but she knew he'd sent her away, hadn't gone to the hotel to help her pack.
It took some effort to fold the paper back and stuff it into the envelope. Was it because she was still slightly trembling?
When Cheng Lang knocked and came in, he saw Shuangyun sitting on the bed, somewhat pale.
He immediately came in and squatted at Shuangyun's feet, asking her: "Shuangyun Liang, are you uncomfortable somewhere?"
Shuangyun looked at him.
Cheng Lang was someone who'd grown up in an extremely traditional Asian family. The education he'd received, the thoughts he recognized, were also traditional love and marriage. Shuangyun superficially thought people like this most treasured their future and money. Cheng Lang had once wavered for her about giving up his future. And now he'd also unreservedly told her all his assets.
No explanation that could be vague or侥幸. What he gave was always clear, without doubt.
But Shuangyun involuntarily felt afraid.
Love was a terrifying thing.
Don't give so much now, then when leaving, act as if you never loved.
Shuangyun said: "Do you have painkillers at home? I have a migraine."
Cheng Lang immediately got up and searched the medicine cabinet, but found there weren't any at home.
"Wait here for me. I'll go buy some now."
Cheng Lang stroked Shuangyun's cheek, then quickly got up, took his keys and went out.
He'd even forgotten to put on his coat. Only when cold wind passed through his thin shirt did he realize.
The elevator went to the underground garage. Cheng Lang quickly got in the car.
Bought medicine at the pharmacy, immediately drove home.
Keys opened the apartment door, went straight to the closed bedroom door.
"Shuangyun—"
But the name wasn't fully called out. Cheng Lang quickly retreated to the living room, confirmed no one was there, then entered the bedroom again.
The bedroom had no one. The bathroom also had no one. Where the luggage had been placed was now empty.
Shuangyun had already left.
His heart beat violently, but his body seemed frozen in place, unable to move.
New York's winter had already arrived. Cheng Lang only felt cold at this moment.