Chapter 36 Part 1

Of course, in the end, they didn’t end up chatting.

Zhu Lexing still wanted to pick up on Yan Mian’s thread, curious to see where it might lead. But when she met Yan Mian’s calm, impassive gaze, a faint pang of guilt stirred in her chest, and the topic was smoothly brushed aside.

Shi Ruofeng’s new place was in an old neighborhood.

Tucked away in a remote spot, its only selling point was the cheap rent. The area was packed with row after row of dilapidated tenement buildings. After looping around several times, Zhu Lexing and Yan Mian finally located the rendezvous point.

When they arrived, Shi Ruofeng was blowing up balloons, her face etched with utter indifference, while Qiao Qiao paced anxiously in circles. Zhu Lexing figured she must be in the throes of an anxiety attack.

Both of them wore masks and dressed head to toe in black, looking like a pair of stylish robbers.

Scattered on the ground were balloons, confetti cannons, and candles—the classic old-school confession kit.

Every girl who’d ever received one of these had burst into tears.

Zhu Lexing couldn’t help but mentally critique it like a late-night infomercial: “This setup is so outdated.”

“You went all out on this,” she said aloud.

Qiao Qiao sighed. “I tried my best.”

According to Qiao Qiao’s plan, these props would lure Xu He downstairs first. If Xu He agreed, everyone wins and they all head home happy. If she refused, the group would step in to save Qiao Qiao’s face, claiming it was just a Truth or Dare stunt, then drag her out for a group meal before parting ways.

Zhu Lexing thought Qiao Qiao had really put her heart into it.

Yan Mian asked, “You think she’ll actually come down at this hour?”

Qiao Qiao replied, “…Why wouldn’t she? It’s not like it’s a prank—”

Mid-sentence, she remembered Plan B and faltered. “But if she won’t even come downstairs, how am I supposed to confess—”

Zhu Lexing suggested, “You could wait until Xu He’s birthday and do it then.”

But Qiao Qiao was stubbornly determined. “I still have to give it a shot.”

She bowed her head and fired off a message to Xu He.

Seconds later, Xu He sent back a voice note.

“I’m out of province right now—won’t be back for a couple days. What’s up?”

Zhu Lexing stared. “…You wanted to confess, but you didn’t even know she wasn’t in Rong City?”

Qiao Qiao furiously showed them her chat history with Xu He—hundreds of messages exchanged every day, but not a single one mentioning the trip.

Shi Ruofeng remarked, “Looks like she doesn’t trust you much.”

Seeing Qiao Qiao’s expression sink into deeper despair, Yan Mian offered some comfort. “Maybe she was planning a surprise for you.”

Whatever the reason, Qiao Qiao’s plan for the day had clearly failed spectacularly.

Shi Ruofeng said offhandedly, “So? Still need the balloons?”

Qiao Qiao mumbled, “…Nah.”

Shi Ruofeng snapped a photo of the custom balloons scrawled with confession messages and sent it to Li Nian: 【Saw this while out for a walk.】

The next second, she casually popped them all.

Zhu Lexing felt like she’d just punctured Qiao Qiao’s heart.

Zhu Lexing had been ready to head straight home with Yan Mian, but seeing Qiao Qiao so deflated, she couldn’t just leave her best friend hanging. Proper companionship was in order.

“How about I sing you a song?” she offered.

Qiao Qiao shuddered. “Not in the dead of night—that’s creepy.”

Yan Mian, walking behind Zhu Lexing, tapped out a message on her phone.

Zhu Lexing glanced down: 【You offer to sing for them every time you chat with someone?】

Zhu Lexing: “…………”

“Them”? What did that mean, and who were “they”?

The question hit out of nowhere, leaving Zhu Lexing momentarily stunned. After a moment’s thought, she carefully typed back: Why do you ask?

She suddenly sensed a major shift in Yan Mian’s attitude toward her.

It was like a kitten toying with a plaything—wary at first, then growing intrigued out of boredom or genuine curiosity, tentatively batting at it.

Zhu Lexing: “…”

Why was she comparing herself to a cat toy?

Still, here was a prime chance to boost her favorability. After a few seconds of hesitation, Zhu Lexing decided to engage.

—Is that not okay?

—I didn’t say that.

A few seconds passed.

—It’s not like I say that to everyone.

Zhu Lexing figured that wrapped up the exchange.

But another message popped up on the screen—

—Only to people you know?

—Of course not.

—Acquaintances?

—No.

Yan Mian came to a halt.

—Then… friends?

Though both were trying to keep a low profile, an Alpha and an Omega walking single file, heads bowed over their phones, drew Shi Ruofeng’s attention.

She nudged Qiao Qiao, who piped up, “Can you two at least pretend to respect my heartbreak—”

Zhu Lexing pocketed her phone at just the right moment. “A heartbroken Alpha isn’t a criminal. Even the toughest A can strike out on a crush.”

She glanced at Yan Mian.

This was the first time the Omega had brought up defining their relationship.

Yan Mian was someone who craved validation. She never voiced it outright, but she was sensitive and full of doubts. With Zhu Lexing, it wasn’t so much about leveraging the Zhu Family or Liu Su for gain—it was that she genuinely liked this kind of environment.

The more she liked it, the more confused she became, so she needed an answer. An answer about what they were to each other.

Zhu Lexing needed one too, though she had no idea how to define it.

“Sisters”? They shared no blood ties or formal bond. “Classmates” or “acquaintances”? Whose classmates or acquaintances treated each other with pheromones as medicine, held hands and hugs, got that close?

“Friend” felt odd for their bond.

But it was the best answer for now.

Halfway back, Qiao Qiao finally blurted out, “Didn’t we already pass this spot?”

Shi Ruofeng stopped and scanned the surrounding buildings for a moment. “Nope. You got it wrong—that was over there.”

Even Zhu Lexing had to marvel at Shi Ruofeng’s new maze of a rental complex. “You can actually find your way around in this?”

Shi Ruofeng gave her a strange look. “Why can’t you find it? Yan Mian would recognize it after walking around once.”

She suddenly dragged Yan Mian into the conversation, leaving Qiao Qiao at a loss for words. “Yan Mian, what do you—”

The silhouette of the building reflected in Yan Mian’s eyes. Several seconds passed before she spoke. “I used to live here too. You can definitely recognize it after one lap.”

That single sentence silenced Zhu Lexing and Qiao Qiao, who had still been bickering moments before.

Shi Ruofeng asked, “Where?”

Yan Mian replied, “Just a little further ahead.”

Zhu Lexing’s mind erupted with a flurry of exclamation marks.

She silently conversed with the System: 【Has Yan Mian ever gone back to her old home in the original work?】

The System replied: 【There is no related content described anywhere in the full text.】

Zhu Lexing gazed at the surrounding buildings. The houses carried a weathered beauty—old, rundown, and grayed by time, with even some graffiti scrawled in paint. A strange sensation washed over her, as if she had truly stepped into Yan Mian’s life, glimpsing those unrecorded stories that belonged solely to her.

Shi Ruofeng said, “It’s just a bit further up ahead. It can’t be that much of a coincidence, right?”

She casually pointed to the third floor of one building. Yan Mian shook her head, about to speak, when she spotted a figure standing in front of the first-floor entrance.

It seemed to be a woman with long hair. She stood before the gray-green door, knocking irregularly—thud after thud, the rhythm erratic but relentless, sending chills down the spine with its frequency.

“…That person looks a little familiar,” Yan Mian suddenly said.

Shi Ruofeng seemed to recall something. “There’s a rumor around here. A few years ago, an Omega wanted to be with another Omega. She threw a tantrum, cut out her own gland to prove she’d marry no one else—”

The phrase “cut out her gland” struck Zhu Lexing as oddly familiar at first, but she didn’t dwell on it. Instead, she keenly noticed Yan Mian’s expression growing colder by the second.

Zhu Lexing: “…”

Qiao Qiao pressed, “And then she didn’t marry? Don’t leave us hanging—”

Shi Ruofeng continued, “Her mother hanged herself that very day. During the funeral, she kept knocking on this door. But how long can an Omega survive without a gland? Everyone says she’s dead, but her obsession runs so deep that every month, for a few days, someone hears the knocking here.”

Shi Ruofeng’s voice was icy cold. It was a sweltering summer night with a hot breeze blowing, yet her tone sent shivers racing down their backs.

Qiao Qiao hadn’t expected the story to turn so eerie. She shuddered. “Dude, you…”

Zhu Lexing instantly squeezed her eyes shut, clasped her hands together, and turned to leave, hopping along the way.

Shi Ruofeng watched her hop a few steps, nearly cracking a smile. “What the hell are you doing?”

Zhu Lexing replied, “Warding off evil spirits! Doing a shaman dance! Chant with me—”

“Get a grip,” Qiao Qiao grabbed her clothes. “That’s a living person! What ghost starts haunting at eight o’clock at night—”

“Aunt Qin Yun?”

The commotion came to an abrupt halt.

Zhu Lexing stared at Yan Mian in shock.

Yan Mian was gazing at the Omega still pounding on the door.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she strode toward her.

Question marks flooded Zhu Lexing’s mind.

She had never imagined this would connect back to Qin Yun.

The last time they’d met was before summer break started. Qin Yun had been as gaunt and taciturn as ever, only softening with a smile in Yan Mian’s presence. But once summer vacation began, with Liu Su around, Yan Mian no longer needed her rides, and they’d had little contact since.

Shi Ruofeng asked, “Who’s Qin Yun?”

Qiao Qiao vaguely remembered the woman who used to drive Yan Mian. “The Zhu Family’s driver… If it’s her, why’s she banging on the door?”

Both of them suddenly recalled the Omega from Shi Ruofeng’s story who had her gland removed.

Before Shi Ruofeng could speak, Zhu Lexing had already hurried past them, joining Yan Mian as they approached Qin Yun.

At some point, the door inside had opened.

A pot-bellied man stood there, reeking of booze. He immediately berated Qin Yun. “You jinx! No wonder I lost at cards all day. So you had to show up.”

Qin Yun stood at the doorway. Though she couldn’t speak, she didn’t lose her composure or lash out. She simply endured the tirade in silence.

The man snarled, “Get lost, or I’ll call the cops.”

Qin Yun finally showed some agitation. She pulled a paper envelope from her bag—Zhu Lexing guessed it was money.

The man glanced at it. “Only two thousand? You trying to beggar off?”

“You didn’t show up when the person was dying, but now that they’re dead, here you are playing the dutiful daughter. What did our family ever do to wrong you—”

Even as he said it, he pocketed the money. The next instant, the door slammed shut with a bang. Qin Yun stood frozen in place. A few seconds later, she resumed knocking, harder than before.

“Auntie Qin—”

The voice was initially drowned out until Yan Mian repeated it. Qin Yun abruptly paused and looked down at her.

The money was gone, but the envelope lay discarded on the ground.

Zhu Lexing picked it up.

Yan Mian glanced toward the door. “Are you… trying to do something?”

Qin Yun typed two words on her phone screen.

【Burn incense】

Zhu Lexing froze in place, staring at the door. Given the man’s age, he was probably Qin Yun’s father—a drunk and a gambler. What a melodramatic, absurd soap opera this was turning out to be.

Yan Mian read the words but said nothing. Instead, she took Qin Yun’s hand.

The woman’s knuckles were bruised purple from the relentless knocking, heedless of the pain. “Let’s go to the hospital first. Can you come back tomorrow? It’s already very late.”

Qin Yun shook her head.

Zhu Lexing asked the System: 【Is today some special day?】