The trailing “suppose” hung in the air without further words, Lu Huan’s drawn-out tone gradually fading away.
“Sever… ties?”
Bai Jin’s lips parted slightly as she repeated Lu Huan’s earlier words.
She didn’t ask what came next, nor did she probe for the reason. “Would that make you happy?”
The faint question caught Lu Huan off guard—not just by the calm response, but by its very content.
If one read between the lines, it almost seemed like Bai Jin didn’t care about their relationship at all. As long as it made her happy, nothing else mattered.
But the time wasn’t right yet. For now, it was enough to plant this vague impression and test the waters.
In a few days, she’d find the right opportunity.
Judging from this reaction, things would likely go much smoother than Lu Huan had anticipated.
Lu Huan cut herself off. “It’s nothing. I was just overthinking things. I wondered what your life would have been like if you hadn’t been adopted back then.”
If she hadn’t been adopted, Lu Huan mused, none of this mess would have happened.
Bai Jin turned her head back and fell silent, her gaze fixed on the ceiling.
Lu Huan shifted the topic. “So you’re here to keep me company today?”
“Something like that.”
At the response, Lu Huan curved her lips into a smile. “Thanks.”
“I want to stay by your side—not just now.” Bai Jin’s voice was soft and even.
Delivered in her characteristically cool tone, the words didn’t ring false. Instead, they carried an earnest sincerity that left Lu Huan momentarily stunned, struggling to find a reply.
In the next instant, Bai Jin’s arm stretched over, followed by the warmth of her body pressing close.
One of Lu Huan’s hands instinctively went to her collar, grasping Bai Jin’s wrist to stop her. But it seemed Bai Jin had no intention of going further anyway.
Her ear settled against Lu Huan’s chest, sensing the heat through the thin fabric of her sleepwear, along with the steady rhythm of her heartbeat.
Thump-thump—
Thump-thump.
The sound of a heartbeat…
“Lu Huan,” Bai Jin murmured, “you won’t like anyone else, will you?”
This was the second time she’d brought it up. Lu Huan knew exactly what she wanted and played along, her lips parting slightly. “No.”
“Good.” Satisfied with the answer, Bai Jin nestled gently against her and closed her eyes.
She could tolerate anything Lu Huan did to her—deception, sweet-talking, it didn’t matter.
As long as she didn’t like anyone else.
Their breathing evened out, and the room fell into a peaceful quiet.
Somehow, the magic of the moment chased away Lu Huan’s insomnia from earlier that night, lulling her toward sleep.
With half-lidded eyes, she gently patted Bai Jin’s back, soothing her as if coaxing a child.
After Bai Jin had lain still for a long while, Lu Huan carefully eased her arm free, intending to lay her flat on the bed. But the moment they parted slightly, Bai Jin—mumbling in a sleepy daze—curled right back into her embrace.
Lu Huan shifted a little but ultimately let it be.
Fine.
Her hand relaxed its grip, and her eyes drifted shut.
Just like this.
…
The next morning, her internal clock betrayed her, refusing to let her sleep in even on the weekend.
She’d slept deeply last night, yet it still roused her at the usual hour.
The grogginess from too little rest washed over her as Lu Huan opened her eyes. Once her mind cleared, memories of the night before flooded back. Her eyes widened abruptly, and her heart clenched.
She groped to her side—the sheets were cold.
Bai Jin was gone. She must have slipped out early.
Relief washed over Lu Huan. If Aunt Luo or the others had seen Bai Jin emerging from her room, the explanations would have been awkward.
After washing up and changing clothes, she headed downstairs for breakfast.
Qin Dian was already seated at the table, with Bai Jin beside her, delicately ladling millet porridge.
Qin Dian glanced up. “Awake? Come have breakfast.”
Lu Huan descended the stairs and took the seat across from Bai Jin.
“Here, I’ve served some for you, Miss.”
“Thanks, Aunt Luo.” Lu Huan accepted the bowl from Aunt Luo and settled in to sip the porridge.
The warm, non-scalding liquid filled her stomach with comforting heat.
The atmosphere was quiet.
On ordinary days, Lu Huan and Qin Dian might chat amiably like any mother and daughter. But whenever Bai Jin was present, that invisible pane of glass between them fogged over, deepening the chasm.
Qin Dian looked up again. “When do you plan to head out today?”
It was already Sunday, with work the next day. Lu Huan usually returned to her own place by now.
Lu Huan met her gaze. “Whenever works.”
“Then stay for dinner,” Qin Dian said.
“Okay.”
Qin Dian’s lips parted slightly, as if she had more to say.
Her expression betrayed hesitation, though.
In the end, the words caught in her throat, unspoken.
Lu Huan pretended not to notice and said nothing.
Yesterday’s unfinished business hung between them, but neither side showed any inclination to address it.
Aunt Luo watched from the sidelines, sighing inwardly with helplessness.
—
The day slipped by. After dinner, the world outside lingered in the rosy hues of dusk, bathed in the afterglow of the setting sun.
Vibrant reds and oranges wove through the clouds, making today’s sunset especially mesmerizing.
Lu Huan and Bai Jin were about ready to pack up and head home.
As the butler pulled the car from the garage, Qin Dian remained inside, gazing silently at the scene through the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows.
Lu Huan was speaking with the butler, Bai Jin standing by her side.
The weekend was over, their brief time together at an end.
Aunt Luo stood behind Qin Dian, watching the same view.
“You… really don’t plan to clear things up with Miss?” Aunt Luo ventured cautiously.
“There are so many misunderstandings between you two.”
Qin Dian averted her eyes. “I know…”
What Aunt Luo had noticed, how could Qin Dian be blind to it?
Every unresolved issue piled up layer by layer, the barrier growing thicker with time.
But fixing it…
Qin Dian closed her eyes and let out a sigh.
From that sigh, Aunt Luo knew she’d chosen silence, as always. She could only shake her head helplessly.
“You, always like this.”
With their things loaded into the car, Lu Huan helped Bai Jin into the passenger seat first. As she straightened up, her eyes met Qin Dian’s through the window.
Their gazes collided.
A few seconds passed before Qin Dian gave a small nod.
It was acknowledgment—she could go.
Lu Huan looked away, slid into the driver’s seat, and soon the car rolled out through the gates, departing.
…
As they drove down the road, a slant of sunset pierced the window, illuminating Lu Huan’s hand on the steering wheel.
“Tomorrow’s Monday,” Lu Huan said. “Stay home and rest. I’ll head back early.”
Bai Jin replied, “I want to go to the company tomorrow.”
“Rest a bit longer.”
Lu Huan turned to elaborate, only to be caught off guard by the blinding sunset. She blinked.
The golden light flashed by, turning her pupils to molten gold.
Noticing the scenery outside, she paused and pulled over into an empty roadside spot.
Bai Jin followed her gaze out the window.
The sunset painted the clouds in a swirling tapestry of vibrant, dreamlike colors. Pedestrians on the sidewalk stopped in their tracks, pulling out phones to capture the fantastical beauty.
Lu Huan took out her phone and snapped a photo.
When Bai Jin turned back from the window, Lu Huan had a sudden whim. She angled the camera and captured Bai Jin against the sunset backdrop.
“You.”
“It’s nothing—you look great.” Lu Huan smiled, pocketing her phone as she swiped to the photo.
Bai Jin could clearly see the image of herself.
So she’d just photographed her.
Bai Jin lowered her gaze and looked out the window again. But this time, it was to hide the flicker of unease in her eyes from Lu Huan.
Her exposed earlobes flushed a delicate pink.
As if the sunset had personally tinted them.
Unaware of the suspicious blush on her ears, Lu Huan studied the perfectly captured shot.
Strands of hair at the edges glowed golden; her cool eyes cast a sidelong glance. The clash of her aloof demeanor against the fiery sunset created a striking, atmospheric vibe.
Truly, a beautiful vista suited a beauty all the more.
The phrase bubbled up unbidden in Lu Huan’s mind.
As she went to put her phone away, a new message popped up. It was from Old Xi.
The photo showed a high-end wine rack.
Lu Huan recognized it immediately. A few days earlier, Xi Hangyu had run into some trouble and called begging for a place to crash. She’d ended up at that villa Lu Huan rarely used.
And this was the wine rack there—stocked with Lu Huan’s collection of fine reds, from a few thousand to tens of thousands per bottle, all neatly arranged.
No room for it in her small three-bedroom apartment, but the spare villa was perfect.
The photo came without any text, but Lu Huan understood the request perfectly. She typed back:
[Asking me about this?]
Feeling it needed more, she added an eye-roll emoji.
The contact showed “typing,” and the reply came quick:
[Got it, thanks Big Boss President {grinning}]
The nickname made Lu Huan chuckle. She could picture Xi Hangyu’s exaggerated expression even through the screen.
After a stretch of quiet, Bai Jin turned her head just as Lu Huan was smiling at the chat interface, clearly in high spirits.
Who was she talking to?
She looked so happy.
Bai Jin rarely—almost never—saw her wear a smile like that.
In the time they’d spent together lately, Lu Huan often had a gentle curve to her lips, alluring against her sharp features.
But it was all an illusion, laced with deception.
There was a world of difference between those deliberate, coaxing smiles and this genuine one.
Lu Huan noticed her gaze and realized they’d been parked too long. “Oh, right. Let’s head home.”
Bai Jin curled her fingers slightly.
“…Okay.”
By the time they arrived home, night had fallen, shrouding the intoxicating sunset in darkness.
Perhaps the sunset hadn’t vanished at all—just hidden away.
One day, at some moment, it would burst forth again, dazzling the world anew.
With dinner finished and little else to do once home, by around eight o’clock, Bai Jin had finished her shower and emerged.
The living room television murmured softly in the background as Lu Huan lounged in her usual spot, leaning back while scrolling through documents on her tablet.
Bai Jin settled beside her and set a plate of freshly washed and sliced fruit on the coffee table.
Lu Huan glanced at her, about to say something, when her phone rang.
Recognizing the call from the villa’s housekeeper, she rose and stepped out onto the balcony to answer it.
The housekeeper knew how busy she was and usually sent texts to avoid interrupting her. Calls like this meant something important.
Once connected, the housekeeper’s voice came through hesitantly. “Xiao Lu, that… Miss Xi has had quite a bit to drink.”
Lu Huan had half-expected as much. “Mm. What’s going on?”
Lowering her voice, the housekeeper continued, “She seems really down. She’s sitting alone on the sofa, crying with red eyes. Do you want to come back and check on her?”
So that’s how it was.
Lu Huan pursed her lips. “Alright, I’ll head over soon. Could you keep an eye on her for me in the meantime?”
“Sure thing.”
After hanging up, Lu Huan hurried back inside. She grabbed her coat while explaining to Bai Jin, who was still on the sofa. “Something came up—I have to head out. Don’t wait up for me. Get some rest.”
Her movements were swift and efficient.
Before Bai Jin could ask any questions, Lu Huan had snatched her car keys and slipped out the door.
The door clicked shut behind her, leaving Bai Jin alone in the sudden quiet of the apartment.
Bai Jin stared at the untouched fruit plate, her expression darkening. Her gaze lingered on the door where Lu Huan had vanished, unmoving for a long moment.
“…”
Much later, the red tracking dot on her phone finally came to a stop.
Bai Jin had already looked up the neighborhood.
It was a well-known enclave for the wealthy—perhaps one of Lu Huan’s other properties, or maybe someone else’s.
Why would she head back there in the middle of the night?
Bai Jin gazed at her phone screen, her fingertip slowly tracing its surface.
Was there someone…
Waiting for her?
