I have things to do tonight; I won’t be back.
Just a few simple words. There was no explanation, no reason, and even the term of endearment Luo Yanzhi usually used out of habit was omitted.
The cold glow of the screen illuminated the center of Ning Ruohuan’s face. She watched the line of text in silence.
The screen dimmed slightly.
Ning Ruohuan’s fingertip hovered over the message box, and the virtual keyboard popped up.
She typed: Is it for work?
Luo Yanzhi replied quickly: Mm.
Ning Ruohuan’s eyes lost their focus. The newly appeared message created a ghosting effect, making it hard to see clearly. She pinched her arm, which was beginning to lose sensation. Her silk pajamas clung to her skin with a gentle, lingering chill.
The air conditioner in the bedroom was set to a comfortable temperature, yet Ning Ruohuan felt a wave of coldness crawl up her spine and seep into her brain.
She replied: Alright. Make sure to rest; don’t work too hard. Goodnight.
Luo Yanzhi: Night.
That night, Ning Ruohuan lay in bed. The small bedside lamp cast a soft glow, but she was far from sleepy, her eyes fixed on the light.
After a moment, she opened Wan Yunxin’s social media feed. The latest post was still that same nine-grid photo collage.
Ning Ruohuan rolled over and, in an act of self-torture, scrolled back through her chat history with Luo Yanzhi from tonight. Suddenly, a mocking smile tugged at her lips.
It was a sleepless night.
The next day, Ning Ruohuan followed her routine: waking up early to exercise and tending to the plants.
These plants had been planted by Luo Yanzhi’s i’s orders. Initially, she would water and fertilize them herself, but after a few days, the novelty wore off, and she handed the task over to the hired help.
While loosening the soil, Ning Ruohuan remembered that a few months ago, Luo Yanzhi had suggested getting a cat, but the plan was delayed by other matters. It was fortunate it had been delayed; Luo Yanzhi seemed to have forgotten about it.
Raising a cat is a delicate matter. Cats are not like people; if a person is neglected, they can self-regulate and find comfort. If a cat is neglected, it will be heartbroken.
Such clingy and lovely little creatures deserve a devoted owner.
Ning Ruohuan set down her small trowel and picked up the watering can.
By the time she finished, over half an hour had passed.
She washed her hands, wiped away the moisture with a paper towel, and headed to her second-floor studio.
She turned on the computer, imported photos she had taken, and began adjusting the framing and color tones.
Sometimes, she would browse the comments on her Weibo and select a few meaningful photos from people asking for help, touching them up for free.
Most were just issues with lighting or color. Ning Ruohuan worked quickly and sent them back to their owners.
Then, she stood up and went to the bookshelf behind her, pulling out a book. A bookmark rested exactly where she had left off.
Sometimes, Luo Yanzhi would hug her from behind while she was reading and say with a smile, “Sister, you’re so cultured.”
Ning Ruohuan’s interests were mostly centered on the arts. She could do photography, painting, 3D modeling, and carving. In her spare time, she would also bake the pastries Luo Yanzhi loved.
Knock, knock.
There was a knock at the door. Ning Ruohuan looked up, put the bookmark back, and went to open it.
It was the butler.
Ning Ruohuan asked, “Is something wrong?”
The butler was respectful: “Miss Ning, Miss Yin Fan is here. I told her President Luo isn’t in, but she didn’t leave, so I showed her to the parlor.”
Yin Fan was Luo Yanzhi’s close friend. The butler knew this well; even if Luo Yanzhi wasn’t home, there was still a mistress of the house.
Reasonably speaking, the butler couldn’t refuse Yin Fan’s visit.
Ning Ruohuan didn’t rush out. “Does Yanyan know?”
The butler said, “I’ve already sent a message to President Luo, but she hasn’t replied yet.”
Ning Ruohuan said gently, “Alright, I understand.”
The butler stepped aside and bowed. Ning Ruohuan walked out of the room.
Inside the parlor, tea steam curled upward. Yin Fan held a teacup, sipping slowly. On the side table next to her, a playing card lay face down. The back of the card was etched with a peculiar pattern; upon closer inspection, a faint shimmer seemed to flow through the lines.
This was the scene Ning Ruohuan walked into.
She paused for a moment before greeting Yin Fan warmly: “Miss Yin.”
Yin Fan set down her cup and stood up. “Ruohuan jie.” She asked politely, “Is Yanzhi not here?”
Ning Ruohuan’s expression remained unchanged. “She’s not at home. At this hour, she should be at Luo Corporation. If you have business with her, you could go there directly or send her a message.”
Her suggestion was perfectly reasonable, leaving no room for fault.
Yin Fan nodded, sat back down, and picked up the face-down card.
Ning Ruohuan had excellent eyesight; in the half-second the card was turned over, she saw its face.
The Two of Diamonds.
The same card Yin Fan had offered her that day—the one she had refused.
“Actually, I’m not here for Yanzhi,” Yin Fan said after a moment of silence. “I’m here for you, Ruohuan jie.”
Ning Ruohuan looked at her.
Yin Fan continued, “I want to ask you for a small favor.”
Ning Ruohuan smiled faintly. “Miss Yin must be joking.”
Given what she showed of herself now, what could possibly be worth the eldest daughter of the Yin family coming to her for help? Something related to the Ning family? She hadn’t had a say in Ning family affairs for years.
Clutching the card, Yin Fan stated her request directly: “Ruohuan jie, I happened across your social media account through the local feed. I took the liberty of looking through your past posts. There was one from six months ago.”
As she spoke, she pulled up the post.
Ning Ruohuan had a good memory. With just a glance, she remembered where that photo was taken.
It was a candid shot from inside a car half a year ago when she and Luo Yanzhi were traveling to a nearby city.
In the photo, traffic flowed like a river, neon lights sparkled, and tall buildings on both sides provided a perfect backdrop. Under the moonlight, it held a certain dark, imposing pressure.
This kind of photo wasn’t particularly outstanding among her posts; it was so ordinary that Ning Ruohuan had hesitated before posting it.
Yin Fan watched her reaction closely and licked her lips. “This post of yours was shared.” She tapped a repost and pointed to one of the avatars. “I wanted to ask, do you know this person?”
Ning Ruohuan looked. She and this person followed each other; Yin Fan likely saw them through her followers list. She spoke truthfully: “I do.”
A hidden spark of joy flashed across Yin Fan’s face.
Ning Ruohuan added, “But we aren’t close.”
The light in Yin Fan’s bright, striking features dimmed. “Then, Ruohuan jie, do you know her contact information or address?”
Ning Ruohuan shook her head. “I’m sorry, that involves the other person’s privacy, and I don’t know it myself. We’ve only exchanged a few words on this app.”
Yin Fan’s lips moved as if she wanted to say something, but she ultimately remained silent, lowering her head in a long hush.
Initially, Ning Ruohuan thought there might be something unusual hidden in the photo, but when Yin Fan specifically pulled up a post to ask about a certain person who shared it, she realized things were not so simple.
Yin Fan had likely found that person’s account first and followed the repost back to the original creator Ning Ruohuan rather than “happening across it” in a local feed.
Otherwise, why would Yin Fan scroll through so many posts and check every single person who shared them?
She didn’t consider herself close to Yin Fan, nor did she believe Yin Fan had that much free time.
Moreover, she remembered that this mutual of hers hadn’t posted anything in over six months. Their latest and final post was that very share of her photo.
Ning Ruohuan said, “Miss Yin, the tea is cold. Shall I pour you a fresh cup?”
Yin Fan snapped out of it. “No need.” She gripped the card. “I’ve bothered you enough, Ruohuan jie.”
Ning Ruohuan shook her head.
As she escorted Yin Fan out of the parlor, the woman suddenly stopped in her tracks.
Ning Ruohuan paused. “Miss Yin?”
Yin Fan said, “Ruohuan jie, if possible, could you pass a message to her for me?”
Ning Ruohuan waited for her to continue.
Yin Fan said, “Just ask her… is she doing well?”
Ning Ruohuan: “…Alright.”
Yin Fan: “Thank you, Ruohuan jie.”
Before leaving, she offered the Two of Diamonds to Ning Ruohuan again. Again, Ning Ruohuan refused.
This card was the medium for Yin Fan’s supernatural ability. Once she accepted it, it would be difficult to explain herself if anything happened later.
Yin Fan seemed to sense her concerns. “This card can erase short-term memories. Unless someone uses a specific method, it won’t be detected. I thought you might need it, Ruohuan jie. Consider it payment for the favor I asked. You can return it to me another day.”
Erasing short-term memory? It was indeed a useful ability. Unfortunately, Ning Ruohuan didn’t need it.
Seeing this, Yin Fan tucked the card away.
After sending Yin Fan off, Ning Ruohuan sent a message to one of her WeChat contacts.
Are you still in S-City? Have you taken any good photos lately?
The reply came quickly: Haven’t been shooting. Let me show you what I’ve been working on these past few days.
Manual sound effect: Ta-da!
Ning Ruohuan played along and sent an expectant emoji.
A second later, a photo popped up. It was a half-finished character model. The general silhouette was already there, and the details were handled with great care.
She hadn’t lied about one thing: she did know this person.
After chatting for a bit about their recent lives, Ning Ruohuan looked down, debating whether to tell the person on the other end of the phone about what had happened.
She remembered that in the future… never mind. Let nature take its course.
Luo Yanzhi didn’t return for several days. Most of the messages Ning Ruohuan sent her vanished into the void, unanswered.
In today’s age of technology, it was rare for someone to go that long without touching their phone.
How could Luo Yanzhi not see those messages? She simply didn’t want to reply.
Ning Ruohuan pressed her forehead wearily, a nameless exhaustion wrapping around her.
She decided to stop thinking about it. She took her unfinished book to the balcony, sat in the hanging egg chair, and forced her energy away from her intrusive thoughts.
A few more days passed. Toward evening, as she was loosening the soil of several potted plants on the balcony, a familiar Bentley slowly rolled through the gates.
The car door opened, and an even more familiar figure appeared in her view.
Holding her gardening tools, Ning Ruohuan looked down. She couldn’t help but follow Luo Yanzhi with her eyes. Emotion urged her to go downstairs and meet her, but logic pulled back her feet.
She remained calm, picking up the small shears to prune the branches that were competing for nutrients.
The minutes ticked by. Luo Yanzhi didn’t appear before her for a long time, as if she didn’t care.
They had been apart for nearly half a month. There had been no message to tell her she was coming back, and after arriving, she hadn’t immediately sought her out to explain why she had been gone.
It was as if Ning Ruohuan were disposable.
Ning Ruohuan’s throat moved, the vein in her neck becoming prominent.
Click. The bedroom door opened.
Ning Ruohuan didn’t turn around. She snipped off a branch.
A soft, warm body pressed against her back. She was embraced from behind, and warm breath hit the back of her neck. Luo Yanzhi rested her chin on Ning Ruohuan’s shoulder, calling her affectionately: “Sister, did you miss me?”
Ning Ruohuan swallowed, bitterness spreading through her.
Luo Yanzhi sighed contentedly. “I’m so tired. Sister, hold me.”
Ning Ruohuan bit the tip of her tongue, the slight sting stimulating her nerves.
Luo Yanzhi took her hand, removed the small shears, and tossed them carelessly into a flower pot. She shifted slightly while pressing against Ning Ruohuan’s body, realizing they were at the edge of the balcony with the railing in front, leaving no room for a person to move.
She patted Ning Ruohuan’s shoulder. “Turn around.”
Ning Ruohuan didn’t move.
Luo Yanzhi tilted her head and said it again: “Turn around.”
Ning Ruohuan turned around.
Luo Yanzhi dove into her arms, burying her head in the crook of her neck and taking a deep breath. Then, she pressed her cheek against her chest and murmured, “This is still the most relaxing place.”
“You were gone for half a month,” Ning Ruohuan heard herself ask. “Were you so busy you didn’t even have time to reply to a message?”
The person in her arms stiffened, then gave a short, amused laugh. Luo Yanzhi’s finger slid across Ning Ruohuan’s cheek and tapped her lower lip. “We haven’t seen each other in half a month. Is my sister missing me, or is she throwing a tantrum?”
She gave a light push. Ning Ruohuan’s back hit the railing, knocking over one of the potted plants behind her.
A second later, a loud crash echoed in their ears.
Ning Ruohuan avoided the incoming kiss and stated calmly, “The plant you liked so much fell.”
Luo Yanzhi straightened her face and kissed her, sucking and pulling at her lips. Her voice was muffled and slurred: “What does it matter? I’ll just have someone send another one.”
Stumbling, Ning Ruohuan and Luo Yanzhi clung to each other as they moved back into the bedroom, falling onto the center of the bed.
She propped herself up, staring down at the woman beneath her.
Luo Yanzhi’s long hair was spread across the bed. A few stray strands were messy against her face. She raised a hand to brush them away, her other hand resting on the waist of the person above her. Her features were like a painting, alluringly hazy.
Their eyes met.
The half-month of accumulated confusion in her heart was brushed aside by a casual “throwing a tantrum.”
Ning Ruohuan moved Luo Yanzhi’s hand and repeated, “Were you so busy you couldn’t reply?”
Luo Yanzhi: “…” She sat up. “It was just a few missed messages. Don’t be unreasonable.”
Unreasonable?
Ning Ruohuan’s hand trembled in disbelief. Her throat worked rapidly, but the words were stuck.
“Sister,” Luo Yanzhi leaned against her stomach. “Besides me, who else would indulge you?”