Became a National Couple with My Ex Chapter 4: Breakup

On the other end of the call, Bian Xu’s hand paused mid-motion as he wiped his glasses. His fingertips, pressing through the cleaning cloth, rested lightly against the thin lenses, turning the edge of his fingernail pale.

The metallic reflection of the frames flickered in his eyes, curving into a cold arc.

Lu Yuan, still holding the phone, felt like he was holding a burning coal neither able to drop it nor keep it pressed against Bian Xu’s ear.

Then, the screen suddenly dimmed. Lu Yuan glanced down, Liang Yixuan had already hung up.

Bian Xu sat motionless in his chair for a full minute before tossing his glasses onto the mixing console. Then, without a word, he strode out of the recording studio.

Lu Yuan stood frozen, a chill running down his spine. That last, cutting "Shut up" kept ringing in his ears.

For someone who was always calm and never lost her temper, seeing Liang Yixuan snap like that was terrifying.

Forget bystanders even she was stunned. She held her phone in the air for a long time before slowly lowering it. "Did I just…?"

"You nailed it!" Xiao Jie exclaimed.

In over a year of living together, this was the first time she had ever seen Liang Yixuan lose her temper. She was so shocked she actually paused before clapping twice in approval.

"That guy talks absolute garbage, four out of five sentences dancing right on the landmine of every woman’s patience. He deserved to shut his damn mouth!"

Liang Yixuan sighed and pressed the back of her hand against her burning forehead.

"The rumors have been going wild for two days, and what, he expected you to figure it all out on your own like a reading comprehension exercise? Or did he just want to wait until you were desperate enough to beg him for answers? And even if you asked, he wouldn’t have explained properly. He’d probably just smirk and say, ‘Wow, you actually believe those tabloids? You must really like me.’" Xiao Jie mimicked him perfectly.

"Good thing you finally grew a backbone and didn’t waste your breath on him. Even if he didn’t cheat, he’s still trash. Don’t brush it off as just a personality issue, if he can treat you like this, it means deep down, he never truly respected you. Did he even see you as his girlfriend?"

That last question hit dead center.

It was like a string inside Liang Yixuan’s mind had been pulled so tight that it suddenly snapped.

If she wasn’t his girlfriend, then what was she?

As that thought echoed in her head, she found herself remembering how it all began with Bian Xu.

They had met last December.

It was deep winter in Jiangnan, with cold rain falling for days.

One evening, after a main-stage performance, a senior member of the ballet company came to her dressing room and said that someone wanted to see her.

It wasn’t unusual, VIP guests in the theater’s private seats sometimes requested to meet a dancer after a show. It was usually either a recruitment offer or… something more personal.

Liang Yixuan had been approached before, but she had always declined.

But this time, just as she was about to refuse, she heard a name that made her pause.

"Mr. Bian Xu worked with the Nanhua Ballet a few years ago when he held a concert here," the senior member said. "But you had just joined the company back then, so you might not remember."

That one sentence threw her completely off balance.

She stood there in silence for a long time, her hands trembling slightly, before she finally forced out a single word:

"…Alright."

She had heard that Bian Xu was already waiting for her. Without even changing out of her performance costume, she hurried back to the stage.

The theater lights had been turned off, leaving only a single spotlight on the stage.

Bian Xu sat in the dim audience seats with his eyes closed, resting. His long legs were crossed, his posture relaxed and unbothered.

When he heard footsteps, he opened his eyes and looked up at her, standing in the light.

"You’re here."

She nodded, unsure how to address him.

But he didn’t seem interested in exchanging names. He simply said, straightforwardly——

"Dance that solo again."

She didn’t dare ask why. She simply danced for him alone, a performance far more nerve-wracking than any she had done on stage. She was so nervous that she even missed a beat.

Afterward, she received an extra performance fee and learned that he had been composing a ballet piece at the time, seeking inspiration from dancers.

From that night on, whenever he called, she would go.

At first, they met in the theater. Later, due to scheduling conflicts, their meetings moved to his residence, turning into a nightly routine.

He said he only watched her dance. He never touched her, not even much conversation. Sometimes, he lounged lazily on the sofa. Other times, he leaned against the piano, a glass of red wine in hand. Sometimes, his gaze was intense, piercing. Other times, it drifted absentmindedly.

And she? She danced with unwavering focus, terrified that a single mistake would cost her this "job."

But all jobs eventually come to an end.

The night he finished composing his piece, Bian Xu settled her payment and told her she didn’t need to come anymore.

The muse had served her purpose, she had earned a beautiful memory and a generous reward. A perfect ending to the story.

But she was possessed by something foolish.

The next night, she found herself standing in front of his skyscraper again.

She paced in the rain, knowing she should turn back. Logic told her to go home. But the thought of walking away of never having anything to do with him again, made it impossible for her to leave.

She had never known why, out of all the ballet dancers, Bian Xu had chosen her.

But she knew why she had agreed to meet him.

Years ago, when that young and brilliant pianist first stepped into the Nanhua Ballet under the guise of a collaboration, she had stood far in the back of the ensemble, watching him from a distance.

Dressed in a black tailcoat, a crisp white bow tie, his posture straight as a pine tree, he had looked like he belonged under the grandest spotlight.

When he sat at the piano and placed his fingers on the black-and-white keys, it was as if the entire world revolved around him.

No one knew that, at seventeen, she had fallen hopelessly in love with a man three years her senior.

He was the dazzling prodigy everyone admired, the unreachable moon in her sky.

Over the years, she had danced from the ensemble to the lead, then to the principal soloist. But no matter how far she climbed, she could never catch up to the moon.

He had already taken his music and vanished behind the scenes, no longer performing, no longer playing for anyone.

That night had been her last chance.

The storm raged, the rain poured, and in the middle of her hesitation, a reckless idea took hold.

She stepped up to the intercom system and dialed his number like she always did.

His voice came through the speaker: "I thought last night was the end of it."

She swallowed the knot of nerves in her throat and said, "I got used to coming here every night. I forgot."

A brief silence.

Then, the glass doors in front of her slowly slid open.

"Come up," Bian Xu said.

Maybe it was the way the rain had soaked her clothes, making her look pitiful, but he lent her his bathroom. His shirt. His bed.

People always described her as gentle, obedient, someone who played by the rules. But only she knew that wasn’t entirely true.

Ten years of relentless ballet training had carved out a sharp edge inside her, a stubborn streak that, at times, gave rise to bold, defiant thoughts.

Sometimes, even she scared herself.

She had always kept that wildness locked away. But that night, as she finished drying her clothes and heard Bian Xu ask if she needed a car to take her home, she lost control.

Logic, restraint, propriety, she abandoned them all.

After a long silence, she lifted her head and asked, "Can I stay?"

His brow arched slightly. He lowered his gaze, studying her for a moment before responding, almost as if confirming, "You’re sure?"

She stood on her tiptoes, wearing nothing but his shirt, and kissed him.

Outside, the storm howled. Inside, the heat between them burned.

At the very last moment, her foggy mind told her she should ask something, confirm something. Dizzy, she murmured, "Why me?"

He looked down at her.

"You should ask it," he said.

Who? Before she could understand, his hands gripped her waist, lifting her—and in the next second, he entered her.

For an instant, she was utterly lost.

And in that instant, she understood.

Men were naturally skilled at avoiding the real question in moments like these.

She completely forgot what she had wanted to ask.

That night, passion consumed everything. The room was left in complete disarray.

For the first time in her life, she slept past sunrise, breaking her disciplined routine. And when she finally woke, the cycle began again.

For two days, through the weekend neither of them spoke about ending it. Neither of them asked the other to leave.

The bathtub. The kitchen. The living room. The home theater. The terrace.

She memorized every inch of that apartment.

It wasn’t until Monday morning, when she woke to find the other side of the bed empty, that she finally pulled herself out of the dream.

She walked out of the bedroom, unsettled, unsure of what came next.

That was when she saw him on the balcony, chatting and laughing with a young man.

Realizing she hadn’t even buttoned his shirt properly, she panicked and turned her back.

The man, sharp-eyed, immediately teased, "Well, well. A girlfriend?"

For her, that question was unbearably significant. It made her freeze in place.

And in that moment, she turned to look at Bian Xu.

He met her gaze, a cigarette between his lips, his eyebrow lifting with a smirk.

"If not, then what?" he replied.

His words were directed at the man, but his eyes were fixed on her.

Golden morning light spilled over his shoulders, making the moment dazzling——

And painfully unreal.

……

That was the promise Liang Yixuan had received.

The first—and only—time Bian Xu had openly acknowledged their relationship.

But now, eight months later, looking back on a relationship full of red flags, that once-solid confirmation had started to feel blurry.

Can a man really be trusted to speak the truth when he admits to being with a woman in that kind of situation?

Maybe it was just a cover, something to save face in front of others.

They didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. They had no anniversary. They rarely went out together. He never said he loved her at least not anywhere outside the bedroom.

Rather than boyfriend and girlfriend, they felt more like lovers who only existed behind closed doors.

Otherwise, Xiao Jie wouldn’t have seen through everything after just a single phone call——

Girlfriends require loyalty. Lovers… not necessarily.

So it made sense that Bian Xu never once tried to explain those rumors.

She had thought the worst-case scenario would be that another woman came between them.

But it turned out, what was worse than betrayal… was realizing the fragile relationship she had been trying so hard to protect was never real in the first place.

What he saw as a casual first meeting had been, to her, a long-awaited reunion, something she had dreamed about for years.

From the very beginning, they hadn’t been on the same page.

Xiao Jie accompanied Liang Yixuan to the hospital for X-rays and an IV drip. By the time they got home, it was already night.

The fever had temporarily gone down, but her Achilles tendonitis had been flaring up on and off for a year. It wouldn’t heal in just a few days.

The doctor said this acute phase might last for weeks. Recovery depended on physical therapy. For now, not only were performances out of the question, even basic training had to stop. If conservative treatment failed, the next step would be surgery, and recovery from that would take even longer.

"You people in sports and the arts always think you can push your bodies just because you’re young," the elderly specialist scolded gently. "Look around, how many dancers and athletes have torn their Achilles on stage? One injury and their whole career is over."

Xiao Jie listened, scared out of her mind. But Liang Yixuan stayed calm, she knew her own body best. She had already been mentally prepared for this before returning to China.

Besides, injuries like this were pretty common in her field. A few weeks of rest wasn’t the end of the world. Luckily, the touring season had just ended, and there was a small break before the next round of work, so it wouldn’t disrupt too much.

Back at her apartment, Liang Yixuan sent a message to Qin He on WeChat, updating her on the situation.

At 9 PM, lying in bed, she got a voice call from her.

Qin He rambled on for a bit, saying she’d file a sick leave request for Monday and told her to rest properly. She didn’t need to check in at the dance center next week.

Liang Yixuan agreed to everything. Then, Qin He brought up the topic from earlier that morning:

"Since you can’t perform for a while, why not think about that variety show offer?"

"My foot’s not in any shape to record a dance program…"

"I wasn’t asking you to do a dance show!" Qin He laughed. "Don’t act like you’re some workaholic. I’m asking you to go on a dating show!"

It took a second for Liang Yixuan to catch on. "You mean... go on a variety show to date someone?"

"Exactly! How are you more out of touch than I am?" Qin He teased. "It’s one of those reality shows where people meet and maybe fall in love. If you hit it off with someone, great if not, no big deal. It’s a chance to expand your social circle, build connections, gain some exposure. And you can still keep up with other work. There’s no downside!"

"But I…"

She wanted to say, "I’m not single," but the words caught in her throat. She clutched her blanket tightly.

"Miss Qin," she said instead, "Can I think about it and give you an answer next week?"

"Alright, it's a rare opportunity, just don’t wait too long!"

After hanging up, Liang Yixuan stared at her phone screen, no missed calls, no unread messages. She sat there in a daze for a while, then reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out her diary.

She’d been using that notebook for four years, and the pages were starting to yellow with age.

Back when she was seventeen or eighteen, she used to write in it every day. As she grew older, her entries became fewer and fewer, only when she was in a really good mood or a really bad one. The diary had become more of a way to look back than to record the present.

Liang Yixuan had always struggled with letting go. Her grandma once told her, "When something brings you more sadness than joy, it’s time to stop doing it."

So whenever she couldn’t decide, she’d open her diary and count, how many happy moments versus how many painful ones did something bring her?

She slowly flipped through the pages, starting from last December, tallying them up with pencil strokes. In the end, the count was 19 to 6.

Turns out, in all the time she spent with Bian Xu, only 6 out of 25 days were happy.

She almost laughed but then suddenly felt her cheeks grow hot. She reached up and touched her face—wet.

Three days later, after fully recovering from her fever, Liang Yixuan packed a suitcase and went straight to Lancheng Tianfu.

Five towering skyscrapers stood along the riverbank, in one of the most expensive neighborhoods in Nanhuai City.

She swiped her card to enter Building 1, took the elevator to the top floor, and unlocked the door with her fingerprint.

It was a luxury duplex penthouse in a prime location, one most people could only dream of. And yet, it had sat empty all this time.

The massive apartment was silent and lifeless. Everything looked exactly as it did the last time she had left.

Bian Xu liked things clean, but not orderly. He hated symmetry or strict arrangements. The furniture and décor were scattered, like jagged rocks in the wilderness, messy, disorganized, but in a way that suited him.

He never let anyone change that "freedom," even driving away several cleaning ladies with OCD.

Liang Yixuan, on the other hand, loved routine. She had a mild obsession with tidiness and always had to adjust to the chaos whenever she visited.

But not this time.

She didn’t even want to look at the mess. Instead, she wiped down the wheels of her suitcase, and then carefully laid out all the gifts Bian Xu had ever given her brand-new bags, jewelry, makeup, and skincare still in their packaging. She placed them neatly on the living room coffee table, returning everything.

Then she grabbed her empty suitcase and began gathering her own things daily essentials, clothes, even the few novels she used to read when she was bored here alone.

She didn’t want to stay long. When she reached for the last book on the swing chair on the balcony, her hand slipped.

The book fell open to the page with a bookmark inside.

It was《Everything Grows》by Feng Tang.

She glanced down and saw a sentence highlighted in gray:

"I’ll use every bit of my charm to make sure that whenever you're not with me in the future, you can never find peace."

She couldn’t remember when she had marked that line, probably during a long, sleepless night after Bian Xu had left her hanging.

She picked the book up and, only then, realized, she still wasn’t entirely over it.

If her leaving meant absolutely nothing to him, if it didn’t touch him at all, she wasn’t ready to accept that.

She wanted him to lose sleep over her, just once.

She wanted him to spend one night, just one, thinking of her with every breath, every moment.

Liang Yixuan stood on the wide balcony and looked around the apartment one last time. Then she walked to the record player in the living room. She picked out a vinyl from the shelf, placed it on the turntable that would be the first song Bian Xu would hear when he came back.

Then she went to the wine cabinet, chose a bottle of his favorite wine, and moved it to the easiest spot to reach.

She entered the bathroom, pulled out her usual essential oils, and placed a few drops onto the diffuser stones near the tub. She even made sure to close the shower door tightly.

Then she went into the bedroom and carefully made the bed.

Finally, she took a set of lingerie she had planned to take with her, cut it into pieces with scissors, and tossed it into the bathroom laundry bin.

She was like a meticulous designer, preparing a sensory experience for sight, sound, smell, touch, and taste so that every memory in this home would stir something in its owner.

Then she rolled her suitcase to the front door, left the access card on the entry table, and pulled out her phone to type a message.

Once the breakup text was sent, she opened the door and stepped outside.

Click.

The heavy metal door shut behind her.

She turned and walked into the elevator——

Never once looking back.