In an instant, He Qi felt her body go numb. She froze for a long moment, as if her joints had been iced over.
The footsteps behind her slowed and stopped a meter away.
Exhaling, she turned her head. Fang Yi’s gaze returned from afar, met hers briefly, and then, as if nothing had happened, he smiled and handed her the white scarf.
“Sister, you left it in the car.”
No wonder she felt like she had forgotten something—the space around her neck had been empty.
He Qi responded faintly, “Mm,” taking the scarf and adding, “Thanks. Sorry for the trouble.”
“No trouble at all,” Fang Yi smiled brightly, and suddenly brushed a bit of lint off her sleeve with a quick, natural motion that caught her off guard. “I’ll head back now, sister.”
He Qi glanced down at the spot he’d touched, frowning slightly, but her priority was to send him off. “Mm, go back quickly.”
Fang Yi didn’t linger. Before leaving, he looked back toward where Chen Jin was, and He Qi knew exactly what he was looking at.
A prickling unease ran down her spine.
Even with her back turned, she couldn’t ignore that tangible gaze—one of life’s illusions, yet this was definitely not a trick.
Clutching the scarf tightly, she avoided looking in Chen Jin’s direction, walking swiftly to her unit door.
He didn’t follow or call out. His composure puzzled her slightly.
As she closed the door, she glanced at the glass outside.
In a split second, her eyes met a dark, intense gaze.
Her heart raced; she nearly forgot to release the doorknob. Like a startled bird, she hurried to the elevator, still shaken.
Was that… Chen Jin’s gaze?
In the elevator, the light weightlessness worsened her anxiety. She started overthinking: What did that look mean?
Blaming her? Impossible—he was the one who had crossed her boundaries first.
Even if he was blaming her, what could he really blame her for?
For making him wait downstairs for so many days without showing up? Ridiculous, she hadn’t called him. For going out to eat with Fang Yi?
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Startled, she pulled it out to see a message from Li Jiajia.
Li Jiajia asked if she’d made it home and said that if she needed anything, she could bring it back from work.
He Qi replied while leaving the elevator. After entering her home, she took a hot shower. The busy cleaning relaxed her completely, shaking off the lingering panic.
When Li Jiajia arrived, she saw He Qi, fragrant and steaming, throwing her clothes into the washing machine.
“Shower so early today?” Li Jiajia remarked casually.
He Qi responded with a low “Mm,” uninterested.
Li Jiajia, unbothered, grabbed a chilled drink from the kitchen. “Chen Jin was smoking downstairs again. Did you run into him on your way back?”
He Qi paused. “Didn’t see him smoking… but saw him.”
Li Jiajia’s eyes lit up. She set the drink aside, leaning in eagerly. “Really? Did he say anything to you?”
He Qi shook her head. Li Jiajia pouted, dissatisfied with the gossip.
Before Li Jiajia gave up on their story completely, He Qi decided to confess: “I went out to eat with Fang Yi. On the way back, I left my scarf in his car. He ran after me to return it. That’s when I ran into Chen Jin.”
Li Jiajia shrieked sharply: “What the heck! Why didn’t you tell me immediately?”
He Qi jumped slightly, then, after finishing the laundry, calmly replied: “Chen Jin didn’t speak to me.”
Li Jiajia didn’t know how to respond. She sat back down with her drink, solemnly saying, “I actually think Fang Yi is pretty good. Young, but reliable, and his family’s rich.”
He Qi frowned tightly. “What are you saying?”
“Really. Chen Jin crossed your line, would you even forgive him?” Li Jiajia asked sincerely.
He Qi looked at her strangely, surprised she would suggest pairing her with Fang Yi. She always thought Li Jiajia knew her better than anyone—even Chen Jin.
Yet, knowing her so well, why would she suggest Fang Yi?
“My forgiveness toward Chen Jin has nothing to do with Fang Yi,” He Qi said firmly.
“Alright then,” Li Jiajia shrugged, knocking the empty bottle on the coffee table. “No wonder you didn’t tell me immediately—you think neither of them matters.”
“What?” He Qi instinctively asked.
Li Jiajia spread her hands innocently. “If it has nothing to do with Fang Yi, you’re not worried about Chen Jin misunderstanding?”
“Misunderstanding what?”
“About you and Fang Yi’s relationship.”
He Qi almost said “no” immediately but froze.
Her throat felt like a fishbone was lodged there—the fishbone being that morning Chen Jin had cut his business trip short because she had a fever and pressured her for Fang Yi’s name. Even an hour ago, hearing Fang Yi’s voice downstairs, she instinctively felt guilty.
She didn’t know how the topic had drifted here. Her mind was a mess. Thinking about it only brought endless negative emotions.
He Qi stopped herself in time.
“You’re right. It doesn’t matter anymore whether there’s a misunderstanding or not.”
Li Jiajia glanced at her, as if she had something more to say, but in the end didn’t. Instead, she lay down on He Qi’s lap, closing her eyes.
“Fine. As long as you know I’m the most important to you.”
He Qi lowered her eyes, her gaze slowly drifting as she got lost in thought. Then, she spoke suddenly, her tone serious:
“Do you think, with my current savings, I could run away somewhere no one could find me and just live there?”
Li Jiajia raised her hand and tapped her lightly on the head.
“Before you save five million, just live here with me, spending your money however you want.”
He Qi thought she was exaggerating.
“That would make me fifty before I saved that much. I don’t need that much. I can rent a place—it doesn’t have to be fancy. And not every place’s housing prices are as crazy as Jiang City.”
At that, He Qi felt a twinge of melancholy.
“You think I shouldn’t have quit my job so rashly, right?”
“Big writer, don’t doubt your decisions.”
Besides, with He Qi’s background, finding another job wouldn’t be difficult. Even if the salary couldn’t match her previous one right away, she could support herself. She had decided to quit to have a proper break. Li Jiajia didn’t want her to overthink, so she changed the topic.
“By the way, I forgot to ask—how’s your writing going?”
Finally, there was something to make her happy. He Qi gave a small smile.
“Making progress, though I haven’t earned any money yet.”
“You will.” Li Jiajia closed her eyes again, full of confidence.
….
For the next two days, He Qi stayed at home obediently, diligently typing on her computer, preparing to save up five million, refusing to think about any troubles outside.
Li Jiajia had gotten used to running into her “ex-brother-in-law” downstairs almost every day when she returned home. It had been nearly half a month. Though she admired Chen Jin’s persistence, she gradually stopped bringing him up in front of He Qi.
Days passed one by one. Near the end of November, it finally rained after a long dry spell.
He Qi had seen in the morning’s weather forecast that it would rain in the evening. The sky outside was gloomy, heavy clouds pressing down, making it hard to breathe.
She felt strangely distracted, staring at large blocks of text on her document, her mind wandering as if she had suddenly developed a reading disorder.
She walked from the bedroom to the living room several times to get water, switching places on the sofa to type, changing her sitting and lying positions repeatedly—but she still couldn’t focus.
Today was clearly not a day for writing. He Qi concluded she’d give herself a day off, picked a movie, and lay back on the sofa to watch.
By just after four in the afternoon, the drizzle started.
The sound of rain hitting the window woke He Qi from her drowsiness. She got up to close all the windows that had been left open for ventilation, then lay back on the sofa.
Her previous sleepiness vanished. With nothing to do, she stared at the TV for a while, then texted Li Jiajia to ask if she had brought an umbrella.
Half an hour passed before Li Jiajia replied.
“No forecast check—raining outside? Doesn’t matter, I have a car. Won’t get much wet anyway.”
By seven, the main door echoed with the sound of Li Jiajia changing shoes. She hurried into the living room, quickly wiping a thin layer of rain off her shoulders with several tissues.
He Qi looked up at her, her laptop on her lap, worry in her eyes.
“Go take a shower. Don’t catch a cold.”
“Okay,” Li Jiajia said, rushing to the bedroom.
The rain pattered insistently, while the document He Qi had spent hours finishing—a mere five hundred words—sat in front of her, her mind restless and wandering.
Li Jiajia came out of the bedroom with a quick-dry cap on her head, passing through the living room, onto the balcony, then into the kitchen, clattering about, seemingly tidying up.
He Qi’s heart followed her every move. Wherever she went, her gaze went.
Li Jiajia, feeling watched, finally turned to meet her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He Qi was caught off guard. Her heart skipped, and she instinctively looked away at her laptop. After a moment, she slowly raised her head.
“Ah… nothing.”
“You’re acting weird,” Li Jiajia commented.
He Qi knew she was abnormal but didn’t want to admit or face it. She closed her laptop, got up from the sofa, and bent down to tidy the charging cables.
“I’ll wash up and sleep early.”
Halfway to the bedroom, she almost tripped over an overly long charging cord.
Just as her bedroom door was about to close, Li Jiajia pulled off her quick-dry cap and stopped pretending.
“Alright, Chen Jin still came today. Aren’t you going downstairs?”
The bedroom door paused halfway. He Qi’s expression was unreadable. She pressed her lips together and stood there for a long time. Finally, she said nothing, shook her head, and gently closed the bedroom door.
Li Jiajia watched He Qi disappear, sighed, and didn’t say more. She continued searching through the house with her half-dry hair, muttering to herself:
“I remember there was a…”
….
The room was pitch black. He Qi lay flat on the bed, unsure how long she had been there—two hours? Three hours?
She felt no hint of sleep.
Propping herself up, she turned on the small lamp by the bed and her phone screen. It was past midnight.
Like sleepwalking, she got out of bed, went to the balcony, and leaned against the glass streaked with water, looking down.
Under the streetlights, in the rain, the black Cayenne still stood in sight, silent and stubborn.
He Qi couldn’t explain her emotions at that moment—part helplessness, part anger.
She turned back toward the bedroom but didn’t lie down again. Instead, she took a long down coat from her wardrobe, put it on, and tiptoed to the entrance.
It was too dark to see her shoes, so she switched on the entrance light.
In the small circle of light, she saw a lone umbrella on the empty shoe rack.
Her heart jolted. She looked toward the master bedroom—it was still pitch dark inside.
Coming back to her senses, she grabbed the umbrella and stepped out quietly.