Nancheng.
A picturesque little city.
Fresh from Port City, Qin Sang stepped off the car and immediately headed to her aunt’s house in Anshun Community, carrying gifts.
“Sang Sang’s back!”
Aunt Qin Meilan opened the door and, seeing her niece’s kind, gentle face, immediately pulled her inside. But when she noticed the gifts in Qin Sang’s hands, her expression stiffened:
“Buying things again? Keep your money for yourself; the house has everything we need.”
Her husband, watching TV on the sofa, chuckled and came over, echoing her words: “That’s right, save your money for yourself. The house has all it needs—why bring gifts when you’re home?”
Qin Sang’s aunt and uncle were genuinely warm and kind, simple and approachable, the kind of family that felt like home.
“I just happened to go to Port City,” Qin Sang said, handing over the gifts with a soft smile. “I thought I’d get a few things to remember the trip by. It’s more like a souvenir than a gift.”
Seeing the gifts, Aunt Meilan didn’t argue further. She pretended to be stern but couldn’t help giving a gentle reminder: “Don’t waste money on us again, okay?”
Qin Sang laughed. “Alright, alright. From now on, I’ll keep my money for myself.”
Finally reassured, her aunt smiled. “You must be tired. Come eat. You look thinner after being away a few days.”
“I’m not thinner! I’ve been eating properly.”
“Then it must be that the food outside wasn’t as good.”
As they spoke, her cousin Yuan Ze emerged from his room, slouched and dejected, his expression heavy. Seeing Qin Sang, he forced a faint smile. “Little sister’s back.”
“Mm,” Qin Sang replied with a gentle smile. “I brought you a gift too.”
Noticing his gloomy mood, Qin Sang didn’t press him for details at the dinner table.
After the meal, Aunt Meilan cleared the dishes and pulled Qin Sang aside into her room. She held her niece’s hands, sighing with concern.
“Sang Sang, can you see clearly with your left eye now?”
Qin Sang smiled, masking her worry. “Yes, much better now.”
Aunt Meilan gently touched the corner of her eye, sighing. “Good. Otherwise, it would be a shame for such a beautiful girl.”
Though Qin Sang didn’t care much for her eye, or even want treatment, her aunt still urged her: “Recently, when I was dancing at the square, I met a family with an old Chinese medicine doctor. They said they had treated a patient with a similar condition using acupuncture. If you have time, would you like me to take you?”
Qin Sang didn’t want to disappoint her aunt and didn’t refuse. “Sure, we can go sometime.”
But in her heart, she had no real expectations.
Instead, she asked worriedly, “Auntie, why does cousin look so upset? Did something happen?”
Hearing this, Aunt Meilan let out a sorrowful sigh. “Ah, yes… something frustrating. He had been set to attend an academic exchange program in the UK. His name was already on the list, but in the end, someone replaced him.”
Her aunt’s voice carried a tinge of guilt. “They swapped him for a child from a powerful family. You know how hard Xiao Ze worked for this—over a year of preparation—and it was all set in stone. Then, suddenly, he was dropped. Today he’s a bit better; the other day, he was so frustrated he couldn’t even eat.”
“How could they replace him after it was confirmed?” Qin Sang felt indignant for her cousin. “The school didn’t do anything?”
“Child, when someone has the power to push you out, they don’t need the school to help.” Aunt Meilan smiled wryly. “This is reality. That’s why the older generation always says, ‘Children must be helped.’ If parents work hard, children have a slightly easier path and can get more ‘fairness.’”
She continued, her tone gentle yet firm. “There’s no need to be angry. Don’t blame anyone but us. We parents are limited; we can’t give you ‘privileges.’ If I had power, I’d care for my own children and relatives too. It’s just a pity for you kids—it’s our own shortcoming.”
“You mustn’t say that,” Qin Sang said sincerely. “You and uncle have already done more than enough. You’ve given everything.”
Her aunt’s family had been incredibly good to her, especially after her parents passed away. Her cousin treated her like a real sister.
Yet she could do nothing to help them, and sometimes they had to worry about her instead. Thinking of her cousin’s crushed expression stirred a pang of helplessness deep within her.
Life was like this. It wasn’t a fairy tale; no savior would suddenly appear.
After dinner at her aunt’s, Qin Sang returned home.
Her apartment wasn’t far—a two-bedroom, one-living room flat her parents had left her. When her family of three had lived there, it had been a bit cramped; now, living alone, it felt empty.
After several busy days, she wanted a hot bath. The tub was running.
She removed the ring from her hand and looked into the mirror. Covering her right eye, everything blurred. She blinked repeatedly, but nothing changed.
Still, she wasn’t upset. After all… the world offered little worth looking at.
She slipped into the warm water. The heat dissolved her exhaustion, and before she knew it, she fell asleep in the bath.
Deep, deep sleep…
“Bitch! Do you think you’re clever?!”
“You want to defend yourself? Go ahead—what can you actually do if you find out?”
“Be smart. You should know better than to let the living suffer for the dead… like your aunt’s family…”
“So beautiful… better we make you pay…”
…
“You say the woman in the video isn’t you? Even if you know it’s AI, so what?”
“Who can prove it? Not even you could, unless you stripped naked and let the world compare every inch.”
“A video this scandalous, combined with your face… it’ll go viral.”
“Shall we… try it?”
“No! No!!”
“…Cough…cough…”
Qin Sang woke choking on water, eyes wide, breathing ragged, gripping the sides of the tub so hard her knuckles turned white. Her trembling gaze was filled with sheer terror.
After a long moment, she sat hugging her knees, her head bowed, body trembling.
A posture of utter vulnerability.
Luckily, the police had arrived in time when the kidnappers tried to tear her clothes. Otherwise… Qin Sang might no longer exist in this world.
Those officers were the brightest lights in the darkness. The purest red glow in the light.
Late autumn in Nancheng was beautiful.
Maple trees lined the streets, their leaves blazing red, and seasonal flowers added romance unique to the city.
After college, Qin Sang hadn’t sought a job. Instead, she opened a flower shop called Sang Yu—her name combined with Yu’s.
Also a wish: what’s lost in the east might be gained in the west.
A few days ago, the street outside her shop had been blocked for roadwork. An AI conference she had been following was happening in Port City, so she went, hoping to learn something… but nothing went as planned. Instead, it erased all her lingering attachments.
Nancheng was a city rich in human warmth, and Qin Sang’s flower shop was well-known locally.
She liked wearing qipao, with her gentle beauty making her a stunning sight—the “qipao beauty” of the neighborhood.
Her neighbors treated her kindly. The local hair salon owner brought freshly baked cupcakes; the photography studio staff brought milk tea.
As her return gift, Qin Sang arranged fresh flowers in their vases and posted on social media that she had resumed business.
Customers trickled in—some browsing, some purchasing. The morning passed pleasantly and productively.
As evening approached, the sunset painted the sky.
Qin Sang, in a pale blue qipao, hair pinned up with a white jade hairpin, snipped at flower stems.
A customer entered, and she put down the scissors, turning to greet them politely.
But before she could speak, a hostile voice cut through:
“You must be Qin Sang. Wow… what a seductive little fox. Such a good girl, doing such shameless things.”
Behind the woman stood an accomplice. “Not shameless? Running a flower shop… who knows what deals you’re making in secret.”
Qin Sang frowned, her voice sharp: “Watch your words, or I’ll call the police.”
Seeing their hostile attitude, she didn’t want to waste time arguing or affect her business. She stepped forward, issuing a clear warning:
“You’re not welcome here. Please leave.”
“Oh? No men around, yet you act so high and mighty. What’s the matter—do you only welcome men? Such shamelessness,” the woman shouted. “No wonder my husband Chen Fei kept buying bouquet after bouquet. Turns out it wasn’t to please me—it was for you. Posting on social media to seduce men. And the men you seduce… they’re divorcing their wives! You filthy slut!”