Chapter 22: Thin Sakura

Chu Susu saw Han Xuan hesitate for a moment, her eyes shimmering with an indescribable mix of emotions, before she finally spoke up haltingly:

“I’ll head out today and not disturb you anymore.”

She was a bit surprised, having thought Han Xuan would agree, but she didn’t push. Grabbing her car keys: “Then let me drive you back.”

“No need, I’ll just take the subway.”

“How could that work?” Coming out from the subway station, she’d still have to walk a stretch, and it was too dangerous for one person late at night.

“Really. If you drive me back, the road back for you won’t be safe either.”

The two went back and forth for a while, but Han Xuan wasn’t as agreeable as usual and insisted on heading home herself.

Since that was the case, Chu Susu couldn’t force her, so she could only remind her to stay safe and call the police if anything seemed off.

She saw Han Xuan out the door, then glanced back at the living room and suddenly felt an unprecedented emptiness, like something was missing.

The spot where Han Xuan had been sitting still seemed to hold traces of her faint fragrance.

That scent seemed to emanate from within her, unshaken even by the rain she’d been caught in today.

Right! Not only had Han Xuan been injured, but she’d also gotten soaked. Thinking of this, Chu Susu decided to bring her some cold medicine tomorrow, just in case.

It was late, no time to walk Pipi. The little dog, who usually loved going out, surprisingly didn’t fuss and just rubbed against her feet with soft whines.

But its cries somehow sounded disdainful, like it was saying: Mom, you’re useless! You didn’t even keep her here!

Chu Susu: Are you asking for a beating.jpg.

She took a shower, handled a bit of work, then lay in bed and posted a photo of her late dinner in the WeChat group: “Family, midnight snack time.”

Li Le’er replied instantly: “Fuck, I skipped dinner for weight loss, you doing this to me?”

Zhou Xiaoying: “Heh, it’s late at night—ordering takeout now.”

Soon, the group was filled with curses aimed at Chu Susu.

Unlike usual, she didn’t joke around with them. Instead, she calmly recounted what happened that afternoon: “Xia Zilu came to find me downstairs at the company.”

After hearing the story, the others were speechless.

Zhou Xiaoying: “So arrogant—should we find someone to beat her up before she learns her lesson…”

But they all knew about Chu Susu’s sister’s job and that she definitely wouldn’t go for something like that. If things escalated, it could cause trouble, so they were stumped on advice.

Li Le’er: “I regret defending her before. People like that really need a beating. Is your little lamb okay?”

Seeing this, Chu Susu thought of the wound on Han Xuan’s leg that had healed so quickly.

Was there really such a miraculous constitution?

She switched apps and casually searched online about wound healing rates. She found some doctors’ explanations full of obscure terms, but the gist was that some people naturally healed faster.

Chu Susu thought about it— she’d been too anxious at the time and hadn’t looked closely. Maybe the wound wasn’t as bad as she’d imagined.

[@BetaUrsaeMajoris: Today’s horoscope update, check it out everyone.]

A push notification from Weibo.

This astrology account updated horoscopes right at midnight every day, and Chu Susu had made it a habit to check.

Though it only had 20k followers, it was super active with thousands of comments daily fulfilling vows, praising the poster’s predictions and advice as spot-on.

But it didn’t always post substantial content—mostly vague chicken soup.

Like today—

“Mercury retrograde isn’t over yet, Gemini rising babies will still face many difficulties. But don’t fear; the challenges will turn into good opportunities. No extra effort needed—everything will resolve perfectly…”

Chu Susu closed it, not taking it to heart. Hopefully, she thought.

In that short time, Han Xuan had texted: “Safely home.” There were also a few unread messages from Fang Chen.

Fang Chen: “Like I told you before, bro hopes you find a good, reliable girl to settle down with. That Xia Zilu from before was no good—arrogant and nasty.”

Fang Chen: “I think little Han is pretty great. Pure and kind, polite to everyone, good at cooking, and she cares about you.”

Chu Susu: “She is pretty great, but who knows what’ll happen down the line. We’ll see.”

Fang Chen: “Yeah, mainly seeing you get along with a good girl like this puts my mind at ease.”

After sending that, he set down his phone and pondered something he hadn’t mentioned to Susu.

Namely, why did this little Han seem kinda familiar?

Fang Chen’s wife sat beside him. He shared his thoughts, only to be mercilessly mocked in Shanghainese-accented Mandarin: “What’s wrong with your brain? You recognize a 20-year-old girl?”

True, Han Xuan was just starting work, and Fang Chen was over ten years older—when he was in college, she was still in elementary school…

The odds of them knowing each other before were practically zero!

Fang Chen knew that made sense, but Han Xuan’s face still nagged at him as familiar. Lost in thought, he didn’t hear his wife and got lightly punched: “You trying to die? Still thinking about young girls?”

“No no no, not at all.”

Fine.

It was probably just him mixing her up.

—

At exactly midnight, some were deep in sleep, but for others, it was barely night.

Han Xuan had been out of the subway station for a while, standing on the street without moving, gazing at the building in the distance—as if she could see through it to the countless people still burning the midnight oil inside.

The cool breeze lifted her skirt hem like a pure white flower. She always wore black; this was an old piece from Chu Susu’s car.

Han Xuan clearly wasn’t home yet, but she sent the “safe” message anyway, then pocketed her phone without saying more.

The lane was so quiet, utterly silent, as if she could hear her hair tips dancing in the wind.

Han Xuan stared across the empty road, then suddenly quickened her pace as if shaking off a tail.

She walked on tiptoe without a sway, like ballet steps.

The wind whistled past her ears, like a cackling witch from a fairy tale.

Han Xuan soon vanished at the end of the lane.

About fifteen minutes later, another figure arrived like a keen hound following a scent, stopping where she’d been. He paused, sniffing around.

“Strange.” He circled the spot, finding nothing, and muttered to himself, “Did I get it wrong?”

—

Midnight was just getting started for KTV patrons.

At a big private room’s booze table, the group was hyped, taking turns guessing dice rolls.

“30 threes!”

The others burst into laughter: “You idiot? We’ve only got 6 people—30 dice total, where’s 30 threes coming from?”

Qiao Qian had already been punished with several drinks, feeling woozy. Knowing she sucked at this, she resigned to it.

As she went to drink, her phone buzzed. She glanced and let out a “Holy shit.”

“What?” her friends asked.

Qiao Qian schooled her face: “Nothing, just a friend going through something.”

“What what? Gossip?” They wouldn’t let it go.

Qiao Qian waved it off vaguely: “Okay, stop asking. It’s not my business, it’s my friend’s.”

“Come on, spill for our entertainment—no names needed.”

“Yeah yeah.”

Qiao Qian figured they didn’t know Chu Susu anyway, so she said: “Fine fine, but waive this drink then.”

“No problem.”

“So, a friend of mine—her ex beat her dog and wants to get back together. She says no, so the ex shows up at her company downstairs to block her and beats up her colleague, thinking she’s the other woman.”

She embellished a bit for flair, but the gist was accurate. The others were floored: “This girl’s crazy? Can’t she call the cops?”

Qiao Qian sighed: “Nah, my friend’s a girl too, and her family’s got government jobs. If it blows up, being lesbians and all… you get it.”

Everyone sighed sympathetically—being stalked by a psycho sucked. Hope they never dealt with that.

The KTV room was stuffy, so after, Qiao Qian pushed out for air, heading to the smoking area.

A few people sat scattered; she didn’t look closely, but her peripheral caught a woman with striking pink-dyed highlights that drew her eye.

Qiao Qian thought: I’ve seen that hair color somewhere…

She turned and realized the side profile looked familiar. Isn’t this Xu Jiao, the one Li Le’er brought to dinner before?

Qiao Qian was good at networking, so since she’d spotted her, she went over: “Yo, Xu Jiao, fancy meeting you here.”

The other turned, recognizing her: “Oh oh, Qiao Qian, right.”

They weren’t close and had nothing much to chat about, so they only exchanged a few brief words.

Qiao Qian suddenly remembered that Li Le’er had mentioned before that this person liked Susu, so she casually asked, “How’s it going between you and Susu lately?”

“Susu?” Xu Jiao was stunned for a moment. “You mean Chu Susu?”

“Yeah, who else?”

“What progress could there be between me and her?” Xu Jiao gave her a baffled look. “We’ve barely exchanged two sentences.”

Qiao Qian frowned. “I thought you were pretty interested in her.”

She had heard that Xu Jiao broke up and had specially found someone to make the introduction. That went beyond just interest.

“Yeah, but we’re not close at all. Interest doesn’t help if we’re strangers.” Xu Jiao shrugged nonchalantly, her tone light and casual. “We’ll talk if fate brings us together later.”

“This… alright then.”

Qiao Qian wasn’t sure if she was just pretending to be carefree or if she was telling the truth. Feeling a bit awkward, she said, “Last time, Le’er helped set you two up. I thought you’d made some progress afterward.”

This time, it was Xu Jiao who frowned. She thought for a moment, then suddenly burst into laughter, as if she had just realized something:

“Sis, are you mixing me up with someone? I do want to get to know Chu Susu, but I’ve never asked anyone to set me up with her. Besides, I’m not in such a rush to date.”

Huh?

Qiao Qian was completely dumbfounded, her face showing utter disbelief. “Huh? Did you forget? Last time, didn’t we eat together…”

“Xu Jiao, let’s go?”

A few people came over and called out to her, cutting off Qiao Qian’s unfinished words.

Xu Jiao stood up at the call, nodded to her, said nothing more, and quickly left. Qiao Qian was left sitting there in a daze, her mind filled with question marks.

Back then, Li Le’er had specially invited Susu and Xu Jiao to dinner just to set her up. What was she talking about now?

At that dinner, Li Le’er had ordered hairy crabs, and Qiao Qian had savored the crab roe so deliciously—she could still remember the taste even now. Logically speaking, there was no way she had forgotten.

But after what Xu Jiao said, she began to seriously doubt herself.

Had she eaten fake crab roe or something?

Had she lost her memory, or had Xu Jiao?

Qiao Qian pondered deeply for a good while before recalling a decisive piece of evidence.

Her one and only meeting with Xu Jiao had been at that very dinner! And just moments ago, Xu Jiao had called out her name but claimed no memory of it?

Who could tell her what the hell was going on?