Chapter 1: A Summer Night Thunderstorm, Lightning Evoking Peanut Roots in the Soil

Boom.

A deafening crash of thunder rattled the windowpanes.

Meng Bai jolted awake, a flash of panic in her eyes that quickly faded. Her chest heaved with heavy, ragged breaths.

It was three in the morning, and her phone buzzed relentlessly on the nightstand.

Incoming call: Zhou An.

Meng Bai picked up. “Aren’t you sleeping?”

“Meng Bai, I think I saw Miao Bai.”

Meng Bai’s expression froze. “Don’t joke about her.”

“I’m serious. I saw Miao Bai.”

Meng Bai’s head swam; she rubbed her brow. “You know she left years ago.”

Zhou An’s voice trembled. “But this woman looks exactly like her! Come see for yourself if you don’t believe me!”

~~~

The predawn streets were deserted as a sports car sped along the asphalt road. Meng Bai’s face was rigid, her skepticism about the phone call plain to see.

The city boasted a Night Market Street that stayed open around the clock.

At the far end of the street, Zhou An clung shamelessly to a woman, blocking her path.

“Hey, hey, Miao Bai! Sister Miao, hold on—she’s almost here.”

The woman addressed as Miao Bai frowned. She radiated an aloof chill that kept strangers at bay, her sharp nose bridged by silver-rimmed glasses. She looked refined and respectable, but even she grew exasperated at being stopped for no reason.

She sighed. “How do you know my name is Miao Bai?”

Zhou An jabbed a finger at herself. “Me! Zhou An! Ten years ago, I went missing—you’re the one who saved me, remember? Right before the College Entrance Exam, I was living with you.”

“Zhou An?” Miao Bai blinked in confusion. “Doesn’t ring a bell. Can I go? I just came downstairs for some coffee.”

Miao Bai shook the plastic bag in her hand, revealing two bottles of Evian mineral water and a jar of instant coffee. She nodded toward the hotel nearby. “I’ve got to pull an all-nighter on some designs. Let me through?”

“No way!”

Brakes screeched from nearby. Meng Bai flung open the door and stepped out, still clad in her fluffy royal-blue pajamas—a testament to her hasty departure.

Her striking looks drew plenty of stares.

Zhou An rose on tiptoe, waving frantically. “Little Meng! Over here!”

Miao Bai realized the real “boss” might be the one approaching her, and unease flickered across her face.

It was the dead of night. She’d come downstairs for coffee to fuel her work, only to be accosted by a stranger.

Make that two strangers now.

On the bustling Night Market Street, footsteps drew nearer until they halted. Only then did Miao Bai look up.

What a beauty. Slender and fair-skinned, she appeared to be in her mid-twenties. Her loose royal-blue pajamas hung off her frame, the top two buttons undone to reveal a smooth expanse of skin and sharp collarbones that caught the eye.

Her face was even more captivating. Fresh from sleep and utterly unadorned, she still commanded attention—like the group of guys behind them, who were staring openly while devouring their barbecue skewers.

Yet Miao Bai frowned on instinct. “And you are?”

Zhou An couldn’t hold back. “Who is she? You two were dating ten years ago! She’s your girlfriend! Don’t pull that amnesia heartbreaker routine!”

This only baffled Miao Bai further.

A lifelong singleton designer at thirty, slandered on the street and branded a heartless cheat?

She had to set the record straight. “You’ve got the wrong person. I’m single. Always have been.”

Meng Bai stood rooted to the spot, silent. She simply stared at the woman before her.

Miao Bai.

Her first girlfriend. The dreamlike romance of her seventeenth year in that distant small town whose name was starting to slip her mind…

The same face, the same features—even that helpless expression when she explained was identical.

Ten years ago, that incident had already shaken Meng Bai’s materialist worldview. Now, only two words filled her mind:

What the hell.

She might as well have seen a ghost—and not just any ghost, but its damn father. Ghosts would drop to their knees and call him Dad.

Zhou An chimed in. “Little Meng, she even admitted it herself—her name’s Miao Bai.”

“I’m Miao Bai, but I really don’t know—” Before Miao Bai could finish, something soft and yielding crashed into her arms. The faint, pure scent of jasmine buds clung to the royal-blue pajamas.

Miao Bai was utterly dazed, but the embrace tightened around her.

The next instant, heat flooded her earlobes as someone gently pinched her earlobe, thumb rubbing back and forth over the mole there.

“Miao Bai. You’re real. The real Miao Bai.”

Miao Bai had lived thirty years without anyone ever touching her like that. It felt strangely itchy all over.

But the strangeness paled next to the sheer fright. She began to seriously doubt the mental state of the woman before her.

Had she run into two lunatics?

“If you don’t stop, I’m calling the police.” Miao Bai gently pushed her away, creating some distance. “Calm down. I really don’t know you.”

“Sorry, you might actually—” Meng Bai’s gaze swept over Miao Bai from head to toe. “You really do look just like my girlfriend.”

“Like your girlfriend?”

“Yes. Her name was Miao Bai too. She vanished ten years ago…”

~~~

It was a disappearance, not a death.

Meng Bai vaguely remembered that night—Miao Bai fading from her sight like a soul adrift: first her fingers, then her shoulders, and finally her entire body.

That night, Meng Bai had asked her just one question: Will you come back?

Miao Bai hadn’t spoken, but she’d nodded.

So Meng Bai waited. Ten years now. She was twenty-seven, and truth be told, she’d long steeled herself for the possibility that Miao Bai had been a liar. She’d even resigned herself to a life alone.

But this woman before her—

Meng Bai couldn’t help stealing another glance. A surge of emotions bubbled up like restless fizz, nearly bursting from her throat. Yet Miao Bai’s bewildered gaze forced her to swallow it all down.

“Sorry. I think I really do have the wrong person.”

Zhou An piped up from the side. “Hey, how can you—”

Meng Bai shook her head, silencing her. “Miss Miao, we’ve disturbed you. I’ll compensate you for any distress we’ve caused tonight.”

“No need for compensation.” Miao Bai shook the bag in her hand. “I’m swamped—I still have half my work left to do. Just let me go.”

Meng Bai stepped aside to clear a path for her. “Fine. Off you go.”

Miao Bai breathed a sigh of relief. After twenty minutes of wrangling, she was finally free.

Clutching her instant coffee, she wove her way into Night Market Street. That figure sharpened into focus in Meng Bai’s dark pupils as the night sizzled fiercely over the iron plate squid stalls, filling the air with crackling pops.

Meng Bai remained rooted to the spot, her gaze fixed unblinkingly on the retreating silhouette. Faded scraps of memory burrowed into her mind, and suddenly, she smiled.

She remembered the words Miao Bai had spoken ten years ago:

[No matter what new world you want to see, I’ll be right by your side.]

~~~

Only after the figure had vanished into the distance did Zhou An speak up. “Why didn’t you call out to her? You didn’t even get her contact info. That’s not like you.”

“I’ll find a way to track her down later. You saw how it was—she claims she doesn’t know us at all.” Meng Bai tugged her pajamas tighter. It was getting chilly.

“Is that really Miao Bai?” Truth be told, Zhou An wasn’t entirely sure herself. “Her looks and mannerisms match perfectly, though.”

“Yes.” Meng Bai glanced once more down the path Miao Bai had taken, her tone utterly earnest. “I think Miao Bai’s back.”

“Back?”

“She’s become like us now.” Meng Bai looked up at Zhou An. “She’s no longer that Invisible Person who could only venture out at night.”

Invisible Person.

The term inevitably stirred memories of that small town.

That ancient courtyard, that walnut tree, that woman who wore a veil and was whispered to be a lunatic.

That autumn. That rainy day.

Meng Bai tugged at Zhou An’s arm. “You hungry?”

Zhou An nodded. “Starving.”

“Then let’s grab something to eat.”

The two headed toward Night Market Street. Even at this late hour, the place buzzed with energy—this city loved its night snacks, with crowds perched on little plastic stools, chugging beers from the bottle.

As they strolled along, Zhou An shot Meng Bai a sidelong glance. “Work’s got you run ragged. Don’t you think it’s time for a break?”

“Mm. We’ll talk about it.”

“You’ve made more than enough money already. Your health comes first—got it, Boss Meng?”

A smile tugged at Meng Bai’s lips. “Quit calling me Boss Meng. It sounds all wrong.”

“What’s wrong with it? You’ve earned the title.” Zhou An halted, pointing to a rice noodle stall. “I want this.”

Meng Bai nodded. “Then this it is.”

They settled around the tiny table and ordered two small bowls. Zhou An rubbed her hands together, her eyes lingering on Meng Bai’s face for several long seconds before she spoke. “Meng Bai.”

“Mm?”

“Remember when we first tried sandpot rice noodles? It was Miao Bai who took us.”

Meng Bai nodded softly. “Of course. I was pretty upset that day, thinking she’d stood us up.”

Zhou An bowed her head, her eyes stinging. “We were such idiots. She must have waited for us forever, but we just couldn’t see her.”

“Mm.” Meng Bai looked away, sorrow etching clearly across her features. Memories of Miao Bai stirred something in her, and she couldn’t hold back the question. “Zhou An, do you remember that rainy day ten years ago?”

Zhou An pressed her lips together. “As if I’d forget. I’d remember it even if I died.”

Why remember it even in death?

Because on that rainy day ten years ago, Zhou An had vanished.