Chapter 72: Scorching Flames

Momo had no idea what had happened.

It only knew that the person before it seemed deeply saddened, always craving a comforting rub or some company.

“Meow…”

Momo lingered by her legs, keeping her company.

Bai Jin took several deep breaths, reining in the churning emotions within her. She realized that what Xi Hangyu had said was spot on.

She hadn’t been wrong.

Before doing all this, Bai Jin had already anticipated the consequences. She had thought that as long as she had the person, her heart would eventually follow her body.

Take it slow, she had told herself. She would come to like her in time.

But reality hadn’t played out that way.

Her sister had grown increasingly resistant, and in the end, she had changed into someone unrecognizable.

How had it come to this?

Hadn’t enough time passed? Or had she not done enough…

The tears welling up in her eyes gradually receded. Bai Jin composed herself, rose to her feet, and headed toward the living room.

Momo padded after her, darting forward a few steps before accidentally bumping into the upright coat rack. An outer coat hanging from it tumbled to the floor.

As if realizing its mistake, it instinctively darted to the side.

“It’s fine.”

Bai Jin said softly as she walked over.

She crouched down, picked up the coat, and brought it to her nose.

It was Lu Huan’s coat. The scent lingering on the fabric was her smell.

The very aroma Bai Jin craved.

A wave of exhaustion and bitterness washed over her, as if two opposing forces were tearing her apart.

The old Bai Jin had wanted only Lu Huan herself. She had longed to shackle her and keep her locked by her side—and now, she had done just that.

Yet Bai Jin still felt no profound satisfaction. A hollow void persisted in her heart.

She had done what she always wanted, but she hadn’t gotten what she truly desired.

Lately, Bai Jin had even lost sight of what she wanted.

For a fleeting moment, she felt utterly lost, with no idea what to do next.

What exactly did she need to do to get what she yearned for?

Perhaps life was like that—a constant wandering in confusion and hesitation, forever chasing until death claimed you.

Endless searching, endless pursuit.

After a long pause, she picked up the coat and hung it back in place.

That’s when she noticed something hard in the pocket. She hesitated for a moment before reaching in to pull it out.

The moment the item rested in her palm, Bai Jin’s pupils contracted sharply.

Her head bowed slightly, strands of hair veiling half her face, leaving only her slightly parted lips visible. In an instant, a single clear teardrop traced down her cheek, gathered at her chin, and silently fell.

It was that bracelet.

Bai Jin’s eyes widened, fresh tears instantly blurring her vision.

It had been repaired…

It had actually been repaired.

The jade beads cradled in her hand had their chips mended whole, faint cracks still visible in places. Some beads had a corner missing, others patched crudely.

From the repair marks, it wasn’t the work of a professional. It looked more like someone had painstakingly glued every broken piece back together with clear adhesive.

They had even restrung it with brand-new transparent cord.

How could this be?

Her sister wouldn’t do something like this…

Why would she pick up those broken beads and fix them?

Was it to return it to her, or…

A flurry of possibilities raced through Bai Jin’s mind, but one truth stood out—

There might have been a thread or two of warmth left for her originally, but because of Bai Jin, it had all vanished.

So, that final shred of affection had twisted into hatred because of her.

There had been a chance, then.

If she had waited just a little longer before acting, if she had listened to her sister’s explanations, would things be different now?

Had she ruined everything?

The thoughts exploded in her mind. Bai Jin’s body swayed unsteadily; she gripped the rack for support, her fingers whitening from the strain.

Tears soaked her lashes, and the corners of her eyes flushed red.

How… how could it end up like this…

—

In Jinning City, inside the company offices.

Yi Ming was swamped, clutching a thick stack of documents as she hurried down the office corridor. She ran straight into Zuo You and flagged her down without missing a beat.

“Youyou, have you seen your President Lu? The proposal I sent up yesterday—nothing? Not even a peep?”

Zuo You halted, her brows furrowing at the topic. “Not yet. Two days ago, President Lu wrapped up all her pending matters and hasn’t been back to the office since.”

“I’ve tried contacting her, and she responded at first, but then radio silence.”

“From her social media, it seems like she’s stepped away for something. I didn’t pry, just let her know about a few things at the company.”

“Even her assistant doesn’t know where she is. What on earth is Lu Huan up to?” Yi Ming muttered helplessly before turning back to Zuo You. “Anyway, if there’s anything I can handle, route it my way first.”

“I’ll keep trying to reach her too.”

“Got it, General Manager Yi.”

Yi Ming rubbed her temples with a headache and walked off with her documents.

Zuo You had her own tasks to tackle. As she reached the elevator, someone called out from behind. She turned to see Zhong Ruo.

“Xiao Youyou~” Zhong Ruo beamed happily upon spotting her and sidled over to lean on her shoulder. “Long time no see—you’ve gotten even prettier.”

“Ahem.”

Zuo You glanced around, wary of their closeness in public, and whispered a reminder. “Miss Zhong, this is a shared workspace.”

“So what if it’s public? You were drunk and clinging to me, calling me Ruo Ruo not long ago. What’s shy now?”

Zhong Ruo teased a couple of times but straightened up anyway, getting down to business.

“Seen Lu Huan these past couple days?”

Zuo You shook her head.

“What about Sister Xi?”

“Miss Xi hasn’t shown up either.”

“Sigh… what’s going on.” Zhong Ruo frowned slightly. “This is weird. Where has she been? She hasn’t said much in messages.”

“She’s vanished like this before, but she’d always tell us clearly where she was so we wouldn’t worry.”

Zhong Ruo thought of something else. “Maybe the pressure got to her, and she’s taking a break to recharge?” She had recently heard from Zuo You that Lu Huan seemed different lately.

Zuo You didn’t disagree, her tone grave. “President Lu has been off lately—distracted, lost in thought a lot.”

“Yeah, probably that.” Zhong Ruo sighed. It didn’t quite fit Lu Huan’s style, but she could understand; running a major company like this took immense effort.

They hadn’t chatted long when Zhong Ruo’s phone rang. She left soon after. Zuo You returned to her office to handle work.

Someone knocked and entered to ask about the proposal. Zuo You tabled it, adding it to the growing pile.

Lately, several people had come asking about Lu Huan’s whereabouts.

Staring at the stacked documents beside her, Zuo You felt a inexplicable headache, unsure what to do.

She couldn’t delay these matters any longer. Aside from President Lu, only President Qin had the authority to handle them.

The thought lingered in her mind until, after yet another employee knocked to inquire about President Lu, Zuo You finally dialed Qin Dian.

The call connected after a few rings.

“President Qin, it’s me.”

After Zuo You made her request, silence fell on the other end before the voice turned noticeably cooler.

“Alright, got it. I’ll head back to Qining this afternoon.”

“…”

Another day slipped by.

The sky hung heavy and overcast today, thick clouds laden with the metallic tang of impending rain, heralding a fierce storm.

Lu Huan could no longer distinguish what her body had endured or tally the days’ events. Every bone ached as if being gnawed away bit by bit.

Whether awake or asleep, she felt plunged into darkness.

Awake, her flesh suffered torment. In dreams, someone tormented her. Even then, a pair of eyes watched her.

Those eyes shifted—icy one moment, jubilant the next, brimming with aggrieved tears another. They could entrance the soul with beauty, drawing one into a quagmire, or turn terrifyingly mad, hurling one into the abyss.

No matter the change, they belonged to the same pair.

In the end, after countless recollections, Lu Huan knew they were Bai Jin’s.

She was the one watching her.

Those varying gazes even matched memories.

The jubilance in her eyes likely came when Lu Huan had taken her out for desserts.

The affection and misty tears corresponded to their past intimate moments.

The tears and sorrow aligned with when Lu Huan had shattered the facade and cast her aside.

All those hurt, aggrieved expressions stemmed from Lu Huan.

Lu Huan had caused them.

She couldn’t deny it.

That morning, when Lu Huan awoke, she found the shackle gone from her ankle. The bindings on her wrists were loosened, allowing her to move freely about the room.

Neatly folded clean clothes lay on the desk—the very outfit she had worn that day.

Beside them sat her phone and car keys.

Yet Lu Huan didn’t leave.

She didn’t even touch the items, simply half-sitting against the headboard, gazing silently out the window.

She sat like that as time quietly passed, until nightfall.

“…”

By evening, night had cloaked the world outside. Howling winds pierced the darkness like wailing ghosts, mirroring her desolate heart.

Lu Huan’s body burned with fever, her throat parched and aching, her head throbbing fiercely. She knew she was running a high fever but paid it no mind.

The wall clock ticked relentlessly, seconds blending into minutes, aligning once more with that fateful hour.

Exactly seventy-two hours.

Lu Huan stared at the pitch-black void beyond the window before slowly withdrawing her gaze.

These days should be payment enough.

We’re square now, Bai Jin.

She lowered her eyes, shed the dress she wore, and changed into the clean clothes on the desk.

The fabric covered the outrageous marks, but the bruises and pain remained.

The room’s massive mirror reflected her pallid face, her lips drained of color.

Gazing into it, Lu Huan saw not just herself but flashes of countless moments.

In the next instant, a deafening crash erupted. The mirror shattered.

Shards scattered across the floor, broken and defeated.

Her feet crunched over them, eliciting sharper, splintering sounds.

Lu Huan pushed open the door and stepped out. This was her first time leaving the room. Her cold gaze swept over her surroundings, taking in the old-fashioned layout of the villa. The corridor outside stood empty, devoid of any figures.

When she reached the living room on the first floor, Lu Huan spotted the cat cage in the corner—Momo’s cage. Her gaze lingered on it for a moment before she indifferently looked away.

“……”

Lu Huan tossed down the fire starter and walked out of the villa.

Moments later.

A brilliant blaze suddenly erupted amid the curtain of night.

The temperature in the surroundings skyrocketed as the entire villa burst into raging flames in an instant.

Huge tongues of fire burst through every gap, surging toward the sky on the wind. Intense heat and blinding light tore at the darkness.

The scorching flames devoured every trace.

Lu Huan stood not far from the villa, the fierce glow reflecting in her icy eyes. She watched it all vanish, reduced to ashes.