Chapter 9

A casual “that’s all” only made it more obvious, exposing the feelings the girl had buried deep inside.

Seeing through her insincere words, Yan Ningxi chose to believe her. “You must have felt a little sad, right? Watching a fragile little life end right in front of you.”

“There’s nothing to be sad about. It had its own fate.”

Ming You had left the apartment in the early hours of the morning and spotted a large white cat hit by a car outside the complex. It lay gasping on the road. In a nearby flower bed, a black-and-white kitten mewed pitifully.

Without much hesitation, she scooped up both cats and hopped into a taxi.

The blood on Ming You’s clothes came from that filthy white cat. The trembling kitten retracted its claws after she held it close and began licking the matted fur on the big cat bit by bit. It even licked Ming You’s hand now and then.

Unfortunately, the big white cat stopped breathing on the way.

She left both cats at the pet hospital and transferred two thousand yuan to the clinic.

—Please use your hospital’s methods to bury the big cat properly and find someone to adopt the kitten. Is this enough?

The doctor nodded. “It’s enough.”

No one knew she loved cats and dogs. She had fantasized countless times about being a carefree kitten or puppy instead of the homeless, directionless drifter she was now.

After Yan Ningxi left earlier, she had opened Space and posted a log—The Stray White Cat.

There was a white cat living in the sewer.

No soft dry grass,

No fresh air,

No cat as white as her.

Pure white,

In the dust, haze, and cold rain time and again,

Rotted away in sewage choked with dead leaves and thick with filth.

In time,

She forgot about warmth and fullness, grew accustomed to wandering.

To her, the world was eternal winter, cycling endlessly,

So long she couldn’t find the way to spring.

Night after night, she could only curl up in damp, moldy corners,

Pillowed by the clamor as she fell asleep.

Peace was her greatest luxury.

At dawn,

The filthy cat crawled out of the sewer,

Raised her beautiful eyes to the sky,

And said good morning to the world.

But fate unleashed its malice, sweeping in.

In a pool of blood,

Her small body shrank into a ball.

This dawn was long and noisy, yet quiet and short;

This place was dry and arid, yet cold and damp.

She closed her eyes,

Letting the pain pull her dreams farther and farther away.

Far enough that she vaguely saw one just like her,

Clean,

White cat.

…

As long as it wasn’t human blood, Yan Ningxi could finally breathe a sigh of relief. She felt sorry for the cat too, but she cared more about Ming You’s safety.

Once she had her answer, she got up to fetch some food for Ming You.

Ming You saw her opening the packaging and kicked off the blanket to get out of bed. “I’m starving. What delicious stuff did Sister Yan buy?”

“Porridge, but it’s gone cold.”

“Cold is perfect. My body’s burning up—I need to cool down.”

Ming You sat barefoot at the chair, cupped the takeout box in her hands, and sniffed the aroma. “Yam Corn Pork Rib Porridge. Smells amazing.” She took a big gulp right away.

In this weather, drinking cold porridge wasn’t all that strange. Yan Ningxi didn’t nag her about how she had to eat or drink this or that while sick. She just stood quietly to the side and asked, “What do you want for dinner? I’ll bring it over.”

Just two ordinary sentences, yet they sounded like something old friends would say. Ming You paused while unwrapping the spoon.

“Anything’s fine. Whatever Sister Yan buys, I’ll eat.”

From childhood, she had learned not to show her preferences in front of others. She wouldn’t ask adults for gifts, teachers for attention, or those around her for affection.

She had finally found what she wanted in high school and put in tons of effort for it, only for heaven to douse her with cold water.

It woke her up: a solitary wanderer couldn’t chase pipe dreams.

After Ming You finished eating, Yan Ningxi tossed the trash and borrowed a book from the hotel lobby’s reading area to bring up—Far Far Away.

She didn’t have a habit of watching plays in her daily life, but this classic production, familiar to all ears, stood out among books old and new, foreign and domestic, just from its title alone. Since fate had brought it her way, she might as well take a look.

Ming You caught sight of the title and asked, “Is that the Far Far Away that’s been touring nationwide lately, Sister Yan?”

It was hard not to have heard of the play that had run from the 1980s to now with packed houses every time.

“Mm.” Yan Ningxi flipped the book open on her lap. She hadn’t paid attention to any tours. She looked at the girl. “Have you seen it?”

Ming You shook her head. “Life is full of suffering already. Why bother watching a tragedy about unrequited love?” When tragedy and comedy play at once, it doesn’t make the comedy happier—it just makes the tragedy sadder.

Yan Ningxi: “Ming You…”

“I’ll play on my phone for a bit.” Ming You pulled the blanket up to her chin and turned her back to Yan Ningxi. “You read your book, Sister Yan. If you get tired or want to leave, go ahead. I’m not a three-year-old kid. You don’t have to take care of me.”

The room fell quiet.

The one reading made no sound, her deep emotions all kept inside.

The one on her phone drifted off to sleep.

When Ming You woke from her nap, her temperature had dropped to 37.2°C.

Only then did Yan Ningxi relax. She picked up the book, now about half-read, and instructed, “You’ve just broken the fever, so stay put and don’t run around. See you tonight.”

Such a stern “don’t run around,” such a casual “see you tonight.”

Ming You was momentarily stunned, then nodded. “See you tonight, Sister Yan.”

“I disinfected the thermos and washed it. Drink hot water—definitely hot. Take a photo and send it to me.” Whether it was an illusion or not, Yan Ningxi seemed to catch a hint of anticipation in Ming You’s movements and subtle expressions.

“Got it. I promise.” The photo-proof idea had been her own suggestion.

Yan Ningxi opened the door, and Ming You called after her. “Sister Yan, don’t return that book yet.”

…

When she got home, Yan Ningxi checked the ingredients in the fridge and pondered what dishes to make when Ming You’s message arrived.

【I went to find you yesterday because I wanted to apologize to your face.】

【Sorry, Sister Yan.】

【I was rude the day before yesterday. I was being unreasonable. Forgive me?】

Yan Ningxi held her phone and was silent for a long time before replying: 【I didn’t blame you. No need to feel guilty.】

【Ming You: I don’t want to owe you too much. Consider the skirt a return gift. Please accept it, Sister Yan. Otherwise, I won’t be able to eat or sleep in peace.】

【Yan Ningxi: Okay.】

Yan Ningxi hadn’t been wrong—Ming You was looking forward to it, to seeing Yan Ningxi again that evening and to the tasty dinner she would bring. If only she hadn’t sent that last message.

As she messaged Yan Ningxi, Ming You nestled on the sofa in the spot Yan Ningxi had sat, holding the book Yan Ningxi had read.

In this world, few people or things caught her interest, and Yan Ningxi was one of them. Maybe because of her inconsistent first impression, or her scent or body warmth, or maybe just because the timing of their meeting was perfect.

Undeniably, Yan Ningxi’s presence brought Ming You an unprecedented sense of physical and mental comfort.

If not for Yan Ningxi’s inexplicable “soothing” effect on her, the newlywed Jiang couple might have been the ones lacking peace these past few days.

But a new message chilled her slightly warmed heart right back down.

Yan Ningxi had sent: 【We’re even now.】

This Yan Ningxi, so eager to cut ties, so quick to draw lines—where was the worth in expecting anything from her?

Ming You had almost forgotten: Yan Ningxi was a teacher too. She had just taken a major fall at a teacher’s hands, the wound still bleeding and raw, the pain still mingled with soreness. And here she was, rushing headlong into the same mistake.

Her own mistake.

…

That evening, Yan Ningxi arrived “as promised” with dinner she had cooked herself.

The girl was polite enough to finish almost all of it. Their interaction was harmonious in its silence—one neither warm nor cold, the other few words—neither mentioning debts owed or settled.

The hotel had no dish soap or sink. True to form, Ming You would have tossed the unwashed dishes to avoid the hassle, but she couldn’t presume to throw away Yan Ningxi’s dishes in front of her.

She wiped off the grease with paper towels and packed them up one by one. “Can you have lunch with me outside tomorrow? There’s a restaurant on the pedestrian street I’ve wanted to try for ages.”

Once she finished tidying, Yan Ningxi took over. “Lunch works, but nothing spicy.”

“It’s Chinese. Lots of dishes—we’ll order non-spicy ones.” Seeing Yan Ningxi grab her things to leave, Ming You dashed to the bathroom, washed her hands with body wash in a few scrubs, and came out to find Yan Ningxi at the door.

“Okay. Measure your temperature before heading out tomorrow and send it to me. Once it’s normal, send the restaurant address too.”

Ming You was surprised by the woman’s level of “caution,” realizing it came from concern for her health. She nodded obediently with a smile and said goodbye. “See you tomorrow, Sister Yan. And thanks for dinner.”

“You didn’t waste it, so thanks accepted.”

Ming You didn’t eat Yan Ningxi’s dinner with a completely clear conscience.

Suggesting they eat out was her way of sparing Yan Ningxi the trouble of cooking for her and then washing the dishes afterward. It was the same workload—cooking and cleaning—but in the apartment versus the hotel, it stirred entirely different feelings in Ming You.

…

The next morning as soon as she woke, Ming You took her temperature—normal. She checked again at eleven—still normal.

She photographed both readings and sent them to Yan Ningxi, along with the restaurant address.

She had claimed to want it for ages, but really, it was just a highly rated spot she had searched up on the app last night. Great ambiance, food, and reviews, plus reservations to skip the wait.

The restaurant was on the sixth floor of a mall on the edge of the pedestrian street. They sat by the window, with a perfect view of the street’s landmark, Zhongbei Tower.

To show how much she had been “craving” this place, Ming You scanned the ordering QR code on the table corner right away, selected a few signatures, and handed it to Yan Ningxi. “I picked some signature dishes. Take a look, Sister Yan—remove anything no good, add what you want.”

It was still the phone with the shattered screen from yesterday, cracks spiderwebbing from the bottom left corner northeastward, jagged and branching like a work of art.

Yan Ningxi took the phone and focused on the order. Just the two of them, and Ming You had selected four mains, two desserts, and an appetizer.

She deleted the seafood assortment and added two small soup servings. “This is good.”

“Then I’ll place it.” Ming You confirmed without a glance.

While waiting for the food, Yan Ningxi eyed the phone facedown on the table. “How long have you had this phone?”

Ming You followed her gaze. “Two years?” She flipped it over and poked the cracked edge. “From freshman year to now. Even if it works, it’s time to retire it.”

“The phone got smashed because of me. Let’s get you a new one after this—I’ll pay.”

Should she replace it?

Yeah, things that were due for replacement.

Old people, old things—all tossed into the river of time.

Ming You propped her chin on her right hand, eyes smiling at Yan Ningxi across the table. “Sister Yan, if you pay, I’ll owe you again.”