The rain fell harder than before.
He Qi wrapped her coat tightly, opened the umbrella in the elevator hall, pushed through the glass doors, and stepped into the wind and rain.
The black SUV was parked right in front of the entrance. He Qi walked quickly to the driver’s side and knocked on the window.
“Knock, knock.”
She lowered her eyes, noticing the window wasn’t fully closed, leaving a small gap. Just as she was about to peer inside, the door clicked open.
She stepped back, watching Chen Jin emerge from the driver’s seat, his expression dazed. He silently raised his arm to hold the umbrella, shielding both of them under it.
The umbrella now kept some distance from her, and He Qi felt a chill at her back.
Chen Jin stared at her, frowning in uncertainty, silent for a long time as if trying to determine whether this was a dream or reality.
He Qi’s chest rose and fell twice. She didn’t speak first. Luckily, Chen Jin quickly took the umbrella from her and moved closer so she wouldn’t get wet. His voice was low and hoarse:
“Get in the car first.”
He Qi got into the passenger seat under the umbrella, using a tissue from the storage box to dab at the rain on her neck.
Two seconds later, the driver’s side door clicked shut, and another presence entered the car. She didn’t look over, just put the tissue on the center console.
Chen Jin folded the umbrella, closed the window, and grabbed a tissue. His movements were smooth, but his breathing was not as calm as it seemed.
For a long while, both silently wiped themselves, saying nothing.
Until He Qi’s neck was nearly red from wiping, she finally turned her head and met Chen Jin’s gaze.
Chen Jin held the tissue in his hand, his half-body already soaked—no need to wipe at all. Throughout the silence just now, he had been watching her.
He Qi’s eyes drifted past his face to the window, which had been slightly open minutes ago. Anger rose inexplicably in her chest.
What was this? Some kind of ploy?
She turned her head stiffly, her tone cold, as if she had forgotten how to speak to him:
“Why didn’t you go home?”
“I was waiting to talk to you,” Chen Jin said.
“And you think there’s anything left to talk about between us?”
Her words carried a dangerous edge. Chen Jin sensed it and warily asked:
“What do you mean? That day was my fault, but the gift I was originally going to give you wasn’t actually a ring…”
He Qi cut him off, keeping calm:
“If it wasn’t meant for me, why did you buy it?”
“I just happened to see it… thought it looked nice…”
He Qi turned to face him, interrupting again:
“And letting me see it on purpose—was that because it looked nice too?”
They stared at each other.
In her eyes: questioning, disappointed.
In his: regret, helpless.
“It was impulsive. I saw—”
“Forget it.” He Qi didn’t listen to him. She hadn’t come down today to hear explanations anyway. She calmed herself and said coldly:
“Whatever it was, it doesn’t matter anymore. Pack all my things and send them after you get home. Don’t come here again. If you do, I’ll call the property management to remove you…”
She meant to settle everything, but seemed to realize something cumbersome, and choked mid-sentence.
Chen Jin simultaneously gripped her hand tightly. The danger he had sensed moments ago was now immediate. His voice tightened:
“What do you mean?”
He Qi seemed dazed, repeating faintly:
“What do I mean…”
Then, answering herself:
“Break up.”
Chen Jin’s grip on her hand instantly tightened, knuckles whitening. He held so hard it hurt her.
His hand was as cold as ice, his whole body like it had fallen into an icy abyss:
“I don’t agree.”
He Qi tried to pull her hand away, but couldn’t. The more she struggled, the tighter he held.
“Let go!” He Qi shouted suddenly.
“Breaking up isn’t like dating—it doesn’t require both people to agree!”
“How… how can you forgive me?” Chen Jin gripped her hand tightly, the corners of his eyes reddening in despair. “I can do anything, as long as I can make it up to you.”
He Qi listened to his words, and for a moment, the person in front of her seemed slightly unfamiliar. She thought she shouldn’t have come down tonight, messing things up for both of them.
But even if it wasn’t tonight, it would have been tomorrow night, or the night after. She was just… so tired.
She remembered the last time she sat in this car, that hoarse, frantic mess of herself. And now, this was just a continuation of that collapse. Her emotions had dulled—she was just exhausted.
The couple rings in the red box—the memory hurt so much that her body had built tolerance after the pain, a defense mechanism, leaving her numb.
Then she thought back even further: the day she quit her job, the untouched meals on the table; the unspoken understanding in the elevator after a night out; the high fever she could only call about; barely seeing each other under the same roof; Xu Yan and He Yunping.
So many things, all trivial, cliché, and sentimental—but that was what love often felt like: cliché and sentimental.
“It’s not just about this one thing, is it?” He Qi suddenly relaxed, her voice weak and tired. “If you can’t accept that I’m ending things with you over a ring, then I’ll tell you—we’re not right for each other.”
“In another month, we’ll have been together eight years.” Chen Jin’s voice was hoarse, as if slowing his speech could somehow make his words reasonable, convince her. “And now you’re saying we’re not right?”
He Qi looked out the window. Her throat caught once, and she struggled to speak:
“Spending seven or eight years to see if two people are truly compatible isn’t a loss for me.”
Rain pelted the car window violently, drenching them in silence, leaving only Chen Jin’s stubbornness revealed in the hand still holding hers.
Their body heat transferred, and He Qi’s palm began to warm. She decisively pulled her hand away, knowing that no matter how long they lingered tonight, they wouldn’t reach an agreement.
“Give me the umbrella. I’m going back to sleep.”
Chen Jin handed it to her. She took it with one hand and opened the car door with the other.
“Remember what I just said. Don’t come back…”
“This isn’t a breakup.” Chen Jin’s calm tone cut off the end of her sentence.
He Qi paused for a second while opening the door but didn’t want to argue. She quickly stepped out into the rain under the umbrella.
Chen Jin watched her silhouette disappear completely from view. Leaning back in his seat, he closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, quietly rolling down the car window a little.
….
From the moment she entered the elevator hall, He Qi had been quietly folding the umbrella. The wet fabric stuck together; she used her fingertips to straighten every panel neatly.
Her fingers grew wetter, a few drops falling onto the marble floor of the elevator hall, dripping silently into the elevator, then all the way back to the main entrance.
The umbrella panels were stacked neatly, bound at the end by the strap. Yet water still fell—not from the umbrella, but from He Qi’s eyes.
She leaned against the wall by the entrance, legs barely able to support her, knees bending repeatedly, her body curling inward.
Tears fell like broken strings, hitting the ground. He Qi slowly closed her eyes.
….
The next day, when Li Jiajia got up to go to work, He Qi was still asleep in her room. At the entrance, Li Jiajia noticed the umbrella on the shoe cabinet—it was so neatly folded it almost seemed a shame to open it. It practically screamed: “Used by He Qi.”
Since it might rain in the evening, Li Jiajia brought her own umbrella. In the elevator, she wondered what had happened between them last night. Just as she exited the elevator hall, she was surprised to see the black Cayenne still parked in the visitor spot.
She checked her phone—the time didn’t match the usual pattern. Had he really slept in the car?
Out of concern for her former sister-in-law’s safety, the neighborhood’s property values, and to prevent him from being late to work, Li Jiajia walked over and knocked on Chen Jin’s car window.
Peering through the slight gap in the window, there was no response.
“Please don’t tell me something happened,” Li Jiajia panicked, knocking harder each time, almost wanting to find a stone to break the window.
Fortunately, Chen Jin was soon woken by the noise. He furrowed his brow and opened his eyes.
“Damn, you scared me. I thought you’d done something stupid—almost called an ambulance.” Seeing him fine, Li Jiajia used her car key to unlock her own car from a distance.
Chen Jin rubbed his temples, checked the time, muttering to himself:
“It’s eight.”
Li Jiajia, startled by his hoarse voice, looked him over. Though she couldn’t pinpoint it exactly, he did look much more exhausted. She asked,
“You didn’t go home last night?”
He shook his head, feeling uncomfortable, mentally calculating how to get to work on time. After checking, he realized there was no solution—he would have to notify his team in advance via the work group chat.
Seeing him distracted, Li Jiajia worried he might get into trouble on the way, but ultimately said nothing, just waved and returned to her own car.
He Qi slept until a little past ten. Her eyes were slightly swollen. She spent the afternoon in a daze, hugging her laptop, time passing unknowingly.
She didn’t feel hungry at dinner and poured herself a glass of water at the table. Just as she reached for it, a noise at the door startled her. Her hand shook, and she knocked the glass over.
Li Jiajia looked over, surprised. He Qi, in pajamas with messy hair, was dabbing the table with a tissue.
After cleaning up, she poured another half-glass of water, placing it aside without drinking. She turned to greet Li Jiajia:
“You’re home pretty early today.”
Li Jiajia had a bad feeling but couldn’t explain why. She smiled awkwardly:
“Yeah, I finally get a day off tomorrow. I’ll take you out!”
“Sure.” He Qi said. “Is Chen Jin downstairs?”
Li Jiajia’s heart skipped. She didn’t know why He Qi asked so openly, but judging by Chen Jin’s state this morning, it couldn’t be for a good reason. She weakly answered truthfully:
“He’s… there.”
He Qi responded with a tired “oh,” then refilled her cup from the kettle.
“Have the property or security ask him to leave.”
“Ah?” Li Jiajia froze, eyes widening.
Realizing, she contacted the property management, feeling a bit embarrassed by the request.
“But his visitor spot usually isn’t a problem. It doesn’t bother anyone… I’ll check with the property first…”
“It bothers me.”
The half-full glass sat still beside her. He Qi’s tone was deadpan.
Li Jiajia looked at her, shocked, rushing over and shoving six or seven tissues into her hands.
“I’ll handle it immediately. Already notified security.” She even handed over her phone to prove it.
He Qi touched her eyes, realizing she’d been crying unconsciously. Feeling ridiculous, she wiped them, murmuring:
“I must be going crazy.”
Seeing her stable again, Li Jiajia relaxed and continued coordinating with property.
The property naturally prioritized the resident’s request. Security reminded Chen Jin not to park a stranger’s car long-term in the community. He was cooperative and immediately drove away.
But according to security, he didn’t go far—he parked at a public space just outside the neighborhood.
He Qi didn’t react to that. Instead, she discussed plans for tomorrow with Li Jiajia.
Li Jiajia wanted to distract her:
“Daytime is fine. Night we’ll go drink—I’m dying to go out.”
“Sounds good,” He Qi said faintly, a small smile on her face. “Then sleep in and we’ll go out tonight.”
Li Jiajia hugged her excitedly:
“Perfect! I’ll sleep until the afternoon. This damn work is killing me!”
The evening drizzle stopped around nine. Li Jiajia went down to buy milk tea. Just outside the neighborhood gate, she saw Chen Jin’s car.
The window was half-down. He sat in the driver’s seat, looking at his phone. Li Jiajia squinted and saw his photo gallery—every picture he swiped through was of He Qi.
“Damn,” Li Jiajia muttered softly. Suddenly, her impression of him grew complicated. She had assumed he was looking at work files.
She finished her quiet peek, intending to walk past, when Chen Jin noticed her.
“Li Jiajia,” he called, rolling down the window. “Can we talk for a minute?”
Of course not!
He’d been kicked out. Whatever happened last night between him and He Qi must have gone terribly. What could she possibly talk about with her friend’s stubborn ex?
Li Jiajia stepped back cautiously, shaking her head.
As the middle person between He Qi and Chen Jin, she had no experience, could only give advice:
“Don’t come here again. He Qi’s mood is really bad.”
Chen Jin pinched his brow, didn’t respond, and instead asked:
“What are you doing?”
“Buying milk tea. Five hundred meters.”
He nodded:
“Get in. I can drive you.”
Li Jiajia hesitated. From a friendship perspective, all the trouble He Qi faced recently came from him. Not confronting him was already following the rules.
But rationally, Chen Jin’s attitude showed this relationship wasn’t over. If He Qi didn’t want to see him, maybe Li Jiajia could help clarify what happened. Seven years… couldn’t ignore that.
Li Jiajia bit her lip, and finally got into the car.
Alone in the car with Chen Jin, she was extremely uncomfortable, like insects crawling on her skin. She leaned against the door, head turned toward the window.
“What do you want to talk about? Speak.” Her tone was stiff.
Chen Jin first drove to the milk tea shop, asking:
“Does He Qi want any?”
Li Jiajia paused for two seconds, then mimicked his tactic, responding with a counter-question: “Do you know what He Qi likes to drink?”
Chen Jin glanced at the tea shop’s sign: “Taro milk with taro balls.”
Really does know, Li Jiajia thought to herself, then continued pressing: “Sweetness level?”
“Thirty percent.”
“Temperature?”
This question was really unreasonable—people could have preferences for sweetness, but temperature was usually decided on the spot.
Chen Jin replied lightly, “Her period’s coming soon.”
Li Jiajia lowered her eyes and saw the message He Qi had sent:
“Taro milk with taro balls, thirty percent sweet, warm.”
Exactly as he said. But Li Jiajia wasn’t a naive teenage girl; she wouldn’t be moved just because a man remembered his girlfriend’s tea preference. She unbuckled her seatbelt, her tone teasing: “Knowing everything doesn’t stop you from not buying her a single cup these past few days.”
Chen Jin’s hand on the steering wheel stiffened for a moment. He glanced out the window, and while Li Jiajia went to get the drinks, he also stepped out of the car.
When Li Jiajia returned with two cups of hot milk tea, the passenger seat already held two bags: one with a logo from the nearby bakery, filled with desserts sending out sweet aromas; the other a supermarket shopping bag. She opened it and found various sizes of sanitary pads.
“Take these home,” Chen Jin said.
Li Jiajia didn’t know how to react. It felt like being back in college, during the time her roommate in the UK was being pursued—someone always showing up with packages to deliver.
“Don’t think these things will make He Qi forgive you,” Li Jiajia warned. “She’s not a student anymore.”
“I don’t think that,” Chen Jin admitted, driving the car smoothly back to the community gate, letting out a heavy sigh as he confessed to Li Jiajia, “I… this is the first fight we’ve ever had. I didn’t know how to smooth things over, so I wanted your help.”
Help? As a mediator? That would depend on whether he was even worth helping.
Li Jiajia didn’t hold back: “What’s going on with the ring?”
No matter how much Chen Jin regretted it in the past few days, what happened that day couldn’t be avoided. He closed his eyes: “No matter how I explain it, this was a mistake I made in a moment of impulse. But I never intended to force He Qi to do something she didn’t like.”
Li Jiajia sneered: “And if she doesn’t want to be with you now?”
Chen Jin froze at the question. Even imagining the possibility made his brows knit together instinctively, his tone cold and firm: “Aside from that incident.”
Heh. All talk, as expected.
Li Jiajia shook her head, fully aware. She carried three bags in one hand and opened the car door with the other.
Chen Jin called her one last time, hesitating: “So… what do you think I should do to make her forgive me?”
After all these years, even her ex-brother-in-law had come down from his high horse to beg her. Li Jiajia felt a little giddy, shrugged nonchalantly: “I don’t know.”
She stepped out of the car, paused, then decided to say something to Chen Jin through the window: “I haven’t been very involved in your relationship, but we all know He Qi—if you don’t hold on tight, she’ll slip out of your life easily.
“If your way of winning her back is still just standing here smoking every day, congratulations—you’ll become someone she handles lightly within a month.”
“Oh, and one more thing.” Li Jiajia made a sharp stop, waving her index fingers dramatically, “Tomorrow night I’m taking her out for drinks. Don’t even think about showing up—you won’t get a chance.”
She didn’t wait for his reaction and walked home in a flourish.
He Qi, sitting on the couch with her laptop, heard Li Jiajia’s footsteps at the door, humming a song as if in a good mood.
“Do we have any instant food?” He Qi got up, thinking of making instant noodles to go with the milk tea, to fill the hunger from staying up all night.
But when she looked up, she saw the bakery paper bag Li Jiajia had placed on the coffee table. She exclaimed in surprise: “This bakery just opened here too? Their brownies and puff tarts are amazing…”
Her voice trailed off as she saw that the bag contained exactly the two desserts she had mentioned, and in the flavors she liked.
Her eyes flickered, then she looked at the supermarket bag.
There were already stocked sanitary pads at home; Li Jiajia had no reason to buy more, and they weren’t the type to remember each other’s cycles.
He Qi felt she already knew the answer.
Li Jiajia, standing to the side, observed her expression nervously, afraid He Qi would think she’d been bribed.
Fortunately, He Qi didn’t react strongly. She silently arranged the desserts, then sat cross-legged on the carpet, saying: “What are you standing there for? Come eat.”
Li Jiajia breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the first hurdle cleared. She let out two small “ohs,” sat next to her, grabbed a puff tart, and checked the newly received messages on WeChat.
“This Li Leyi is so annoying. Knows I’m on holiday and says she wants to come hang out.” Li Jiajia threw her phone onto the table.
He Qi glanced at the chat log. Sure enough, the next message was Li Leyi asking to reimburse her travel fare.
“That’s fine. You’re going out drinking tomorrow anyway,” He Qi said, smiling and winking, her tone soft, though her fork idly poked the brownie.
“Our private time together is ruined again,” Li Jiajia said, resting her head on He Qi’s shoulder.
He Qi shrugged, nudging her head: “We’re in our private time every day, right? Besides, drinking is always more fun in a group—you’d get too drunk for me to handle alone.”
Li Jiajia scrunched her nose and snorted: “Fine, fine. That bootlicker will probably drag Fang Yi along too.”
He Qi smiled faintly, saying nothing, oblivious or not. A small piece of brownie in the dessert box had already been poked into a shapeless mess.
Author’s Note: Li Jiajia: …feels like I’ve gotten ten years younger.