Liu Ran’s first reaction was that she had misheard.
She took the phone away from her ear and looked at the number on the screen again, confirming that she was indeed on the call. Then she pinched the palm of her hand hard, feeling the faint threads of pain, and put the phone back to her ear. “The signal was bad just now. What did you say?”
He Qiange paused for two seconds and repeated word by word, “I said, Si Si, Ming Siyu, passed away. Her will might mention you, so come back to A Country and see her off on her final journey.”
Liu Ran heard herself ask mechanically, “Where is she now?”
“You’re asking where her ashes are? In Country D, to be sent back to A Country before the funeral.” He Qiange didn’t sound calm at all; her emotions seemed almost tangible as they poured out through the receiver. “Liu Ran, I must have been blind about you. I thought your fluffiness could make Si Si happy, but who knew you were such a piece of trash.”
He Qiange waited for Liu Ran’s response, but after nearly two full minutes of silence, not a single word came.
Furious, she said, “Liu Ran, are you mute now? What the hell does it mean that you won’t even say a word?”
The call was hung up with a click.
“Damn it. What the hell.”
He Qiange almost couldn’t hold back from smashing her phone. She called back immediately, and it connected in seconds. Just as she was about to unleash a tirade regardless of her image, Liu Ran spoke first.
“Is this some new trick Ming Siyu came up with to trick me back into the trap? I’m not going back. Tell her for me that I’m not falling for it.”
That was the only possibility Liu Ran could think of during those two minutes of silence.
Ming Siyu had finally found her. Liu Ran felt a sense of relief, like someone who had been tortured for so long and was finally sentenced to death.
But she hadn’t expected Ming Siyu to go so far as to rope in He Qiange to help with the act, even fabricating such an outrageous lie about dying.
“Are you insane?” He Qiange said agitatedly. “Who the hell do you think you are, that we’d all team up to fool you? Did Si Si spoil you so much that you think you’re that important? I’m only calling because Si Si cared about you before and might have left you some inheritance. I asked around and got your number from that bitch Ming Siwei. Do you think everyone is as idle and shameless as you, always scheming to deceive people? If you don’t come back, fine. But if I ever see you, just for what you did to Si Si, I’ll have someone beat you every time I see you! Si Si indulged you and didn’t hold it against you, but you think I’ll be the same as her?”
Liu Ran struggled to process this news. He Qiange’s words hit her like a bolt from the blue, charring her from head to toe.
Ming Siyu had passed away? How was that possible? Wasn’t she just playing abroad?
“Passed away… why did she die… inheritance, not… sudden…” Liu Ran’s words came out incoherently. She stood at the entrance of the certification hall, the flow of people around her turning into a black-and-white abstract painting in her eyes, her gaze unable to focus.
“Died of illness.” He Qiange threw out those two words and hung up. No matter how many times Liu Ran called back, she didn’t answer.
In the SVIP ward of a private hospital branch near a mountain villa in Country D, He Qiange waved her phone at the pale and frail woman on the bed, smug and triumphant. “Si Si, how was that? I gave her a real scolding for you. This is just the first step in getting revenge.”
Ming Siyu had a transparent tube in her nose and several monitoring devices connected to her arm. She managed a weak smile at He Qiange. The surgery had lasted longer and been more dangerous than she had imagined. Secretary Wen had stayed outside, receiving several critical condition notices, but she hadn’t dared to sign any. It was He Qiange, who had just given birth half a month ago, who rushed over in tears and signed them while sobbing.
After surviving this ordeal, she saw things even more clearly than before. Lying in bed with only her mind able to move, she had recalled bits and pieces of the past few years, especially those with Liu Ran. Ming Siyu thought that if she had to go through another round of such emotions, her body and mind definitely couldn’t take it. Love, once experienced, revealed its terrifying side, making one hesitant to approach it again.
He Qiange had told her that while she was unconscious, she mumbled in her sleep, repeatedly calling Liu Ran’s name in a hazy voice, begging her to come see her. Ming Siyu had laughed and cried upon hearing it. She had left so dashingly, thinking she had let go of Liu Ran in an instant, but here she was, calling her name in her dreams. So pathetic.
He Qiange had said to her then, “Admit it. You like her. You’ve fallen hard for her, haven’t you?”
In front of her friend, Ming Siyu didn’t refute it. She tacitly agreed.
He Qiange touched her bloodless little face. “It’s okay. Who hasn’t stumbled over one or two things, one or two people? Just get back up.”
Yeah, just get back up. This was her first setback in love, but she had faced setbacks in other areas before and always adjusted quickly. She would do the same this time.
He Qiange was full of fighting spirit. “Once Ming Siwei screws her over a couple of times, she’ll realize how good you are. But will she really come back? She seems pretty cautious.”
Ming Siyu said weakly in a breathless voice, “I don’t know either. If she doesn’t come to the funeral, then just let it be.”
She didn’t seem to understand Liu Ran that well anymore. Given how decisively Liu Ran had left back then, without looking back, Ming Siyu felt the chances of her returning for the funeral were slim. Liu Ran had seemed eager to shake off a burdensome package she despised, running away as fast as she could.
But when He Qiange suggested contacting Liu Ran and asking her to return for the funeral, Ming Siyu hadn’t stopped her.
He Qiange left the ward and returned shortly after, carrying a chubby, pink-and-jade-like baby. The little one had just eaten and opened her watery, round eyes, looking at Ming Siyu curiously.
He Qiange shook the little treasure’s hand. “Come on, call godmother.”
Ming Siyu tugged at the corners of her mouth but didn’t dare smile fully, afraid of pulling at her wound. “That’s too much. She’s so young. If she actually spoke, it’d scare you to death.”
The little baby didn’t understand the adults’ conversation and innocently looked back and forth between her mom and godmother a few times. She opened her toothless little mouth and giggled, flailing her arms and legs while laughing. He Qiange only knew how to hold her when she was still; the moment she moved, she was at a loss and quickly handed her back to the nanny.
The arrival of the newborn brought some vitality and energy to the ward. Ming Siyu’s mood lifted considerably.
***
Liu Ran called He Qiange several times in a row with no answer, growing anxious and drenched in sweat. The more she thought about it, the stranger it seemed—just like when she had returned from abroad and was suddenly told Shen Yunhe had passed away. She couldn’t dream up such a sudden plot.
Just a month ago, they had been screaming at each other, hurling the ugliest words to make the other feel their pain. Died of illness? Ming Siyu had never mentioned being sick. Was it something recently discovered? And what illness could kill someone in just a month? She knew Ming Siyu had Plush Hunger Syndrome, but that condition didn’t cause death at all.
How could someone as powerful and resourceful as Ming Siyu, who could do anything, die?
He Qiange must be lying to her. Liu Ran stood stunned for a moment. She needed to find someone to verify the truth. Right, confirm first. He Qiange wasn’t answering—who else could she ask?
Ming Siwei. Ming Siwei wouldn’t lie to her about whether Ming Siyu was alive or dead.
While scrolling through her contacts for Ming Siwei’s number, her hand slipped, and the phone fell to the ground. She hurriedly picked it up, and on the dark screen waiting to connect, she saw her tear-streaked face reflected back. Only then did Liu Ran realize she was crying, tears flowing silently. It took a few tries to pick up the phone, and Ming Siwei gave the exact same answer as He Qiange.
“It was too sudden. We couldn’t believe it when we got the news either.” Ming Siwei sighed heavily with grief. “My sister’s death is real. But I still don’t recommend you come back. First, she’s gone—whoever comes won’t help, she won’t come back to life. Second, after what you did to her, I think she wouldn’t want to see you again anyway.”
“I want to see her. I want to see her one more time…”
“But she doesn’t want to see you. Liu Ran, it’s completely over between you two. Even if you came, you wouldn’t see her one last time—she’s already been cremated in Country D. When you made up your mind to leave her, didn’t you do it with the resolve never to see her again?”
Liu Ran didn’t know where she was anymore. She only knew she couldn’t move her legs. It felt like if she stayed rooted in place, time would pause, and Ming Siyu wouldn’t be dead. He Qiange’s and Ming Siwei’s words looped in her ears like infrasound waves attacking her balance. She couldn’t sense time passing or light changing until a security guard at the certification hall poked her, saying she’d been standing there all day—did she still want to handle her business? They were closing.
Liu Ran nodded, then shook her head. The security guard pulled her out of her shell, and she finally realized she couldn’t stand there forever. She made arrangements for Bai Yu at the sanatorium and quit her job with her boss. After waiting a night, she finally received a text from He Qiange with the funeral time and location.
When booking her flight, Liu Ran hesitated. She felt Ming Siwei was right—since she had sworn to leave and never return until her dying day, she shouldn’t go back. She should keep hating Ming Siyu. Shen Yunhe was dead, whether Bai Yu would wake again was unknown, she had become a pitiful hybrid human who could only appear in crowds wearing a hat, and now the source of all this tragedy was gone too, putting an end to this ill-fated relationship. But she couldn’t do it. If she didn’t deliberately remind herself, she couldn’t even recall how she and Ming Siyu had step by step reached this point of separation between life and death.
Liu Ran still couldn’t tell whether she hated Ming Siyu a little more or loved her a little more.
But deep down, she knew that if she didn’t go back, she would be forever trapped in the day she received news of Ming Siyu’s death, looping endlessly, unable to move forward.
Direct flights to A City weren’t every day. Liu Ran flew first to a city near the domestic border, then transferred, taking nearly two days to finally return. The moment she landed in A City, the wave of familiarity hit her, making her feel even more timid the closer she got to home. She found a hotel near their old neighborhood to stay in. She didn’t have the courage to return to the house she had once shared with Ming Siyu.
She didn’t even dare look at social media. These past few days, every time she opened it, there were media reports about Ming Siyu’s death from illness. Though Ming Siyu wasn’t as attention-grabbing as entertainment celebrities, the Ming Group had many A-list stars under it, and the management changes involved still caused a splash. Plus, with information cocoons, the platforms kept recommending “Ming Siyu passes away” to her, as if afraid she wouldn’t remember it deeply enough.
The day before the funeral, He Qiange brought Ming Siyu’s ashes back to the country. That evening, in the hotel room, Liu Ran met He Qiange alone, dressed in black. In the center of the table sat a porcelain-white urn, piercing to the eyes.
“Liu Ran, you killed Si Si. Did you know that?”
“The day you reported the company’s project violation, she was supposed to go abroad for surgery. That was the optimal time confirmed with the doctor. Because of you, she delayed it by two whole days and missed the only chance to save her. Liu Ran, I don’t understand—what did Si Si ever do to you to make you treat her like this?”
Upon hearing this, Liu Ran’s face turned ashen, like a lime wall soaked by rain.
