After returning from the team-building trip, days continued to pass at an unhurried pace.
Wen Xin wasn’t too busy these days. She clocked out on time every day, played some games, wandered the streets a bit, and shared dinners with Shi Qianyu.
She still had that photo of the oracle slip on her phone, tucked away in her gallery. She pulled it out now and then for a glance. Whether it was just her imagination or not, Wen Xin truly felt a premonition that things were getting better, day by day.
Before she knew it, the Mid-Autumn Festival was almost upon them.
Qi Qing always handed out gifts for holidays, and this year it was high-end red wine and mooncakes. With the break just around the corner, the office buzzed with a cheerful atmosphere.
Gao Qiu cradled her coffee mug as she headed to the break room with Wen Xin. The two of them stood by the window, idly chatting and slacking off for a bit as they discussed their Mid-Autumn holiday plans.
Gao Qiu started rambling to Wen Xin, sharing her own itinerary. “Tao Qing and I are planning to spend a couple of days in L City. His older brother went to university there and stayed after graduation, got a job, started a family—the whole deal.”
“The brothers are super close. It’s been ages since they’ve seen each other, and they miss one another like crazy. This holiday, we’re both finally free, so we’re heading over to visit him and check out the area while we’re at it.”
She turned the question to Wen Xin with some curiosity. “What about you, Wenwen? Got any plans?”
Wen Xin paused for a moment before lying. “Me? I might head out for a couple of days too.”
Gao Qiu’s eyes lit up. “Whoa, really? Where to?”
Wen Xin smiled. “Haven’t decided yet.”
They carried their coffee mugs back together. Gao Qiu offered some advice. “Just steer clear of the super popular spots, seriously. Everyone’s off on holiday and swarming the tourist areas. You won’t see a thing—just a sea of people.”
Wen Xin nodded earnestly. “Got it. I’ll plan it out carefully.”
That was her second lie.
In truth, she had no intention of going anywhere for this Mid-Autumn Festival.
Loneliness had become her constant companion, and she’d thought she’d grown used to it. Wen Xin told herself she’d adapted to this life. But holidays—especially ones symbolizing reunion—still stirred a quiet sadness in her.
She’d once tried traveling to escape it, but as Gao Qiu had said, everywhere was packed. Families, couples, friends—everyone had someone. The crowds were joyful and boisterous, leaving Wen Xin as the only one truly alone.
So she chose to hole up instead, avoiding anything that might trigger those emotions. Luckily, the game always rolled out special holiday events, and she could lose herself in them, passing the empty hours and temporarily forgetting the sting of isolation.
Time flew by, and it was soon time to clock out.
As usual, Shi Qianyu drove her home. With the holiday approaching, Shi Qianyu was swamped at work and had barely any time for herself. After dropping Wen Xin off, she had to rush back to the office.
Wen Xin knew how hard she was working but couldn’t do much to help. All she could do was chat about fun little things, hoping to help her unwind a bit.
As they talked, the topic of Mid-Autumn came up again.
Wen Xin ventured a question. “What about you, A-Yu? Got plans for those days?”
There was a flicker of hope in her words. She knew Shi Qianyu would probably go home for family time, but she couldn’t help nurturing a tiny wish. What if? What if she stayed, and they could spend the holiday together?
But her hope fell flat. Shi Qianyu replied, “I’ll head home for a bit.”
Of course. She was so busy all year— this was a rare chance to reunite with her family.
Wen Xin felt a pang of disappointment, but she understood completely. She forced a smile. “Then make sure you eat all the good stuff and get plenty of rest.”
Maybe her forced cheer was too obvious.
Shi Qianyu glanced at her from the corner of her eye and paused for a few seconds before asking, “What about you?”
Wen Xin started to brush it off with the same excuse she’d given Gao Qiu, but she worried she couldn’t fool the person beside her. After hesitating, she told the truth. “Probably just resting at home.”
She’d also head back to her hometown for a quick visit, pay respects at her parents’ graves, and have a quiet word with them. That counted as a kind of reunion too.
A red light appeared just ahead. Shi Qianyu pulled the car to a stop and turned her gaze over, her tone gentle as she probed. “And…?”
Wen Xin didn’t want to delve into her family matters and skipped the grave visit. “That’s it.”
Shi Qianyu smiled. “Perfect, then. Come home with me.”
Wen Xin blinked in surprise, instinctively refusing. “No, I couldn’t.”
Shi Qianyu locked eyes with her, her voice turning playfully whiny. “Why not?”
“You don’t have any special plans, so wouldn’t it be nice to come back with me? We could spend Mid-Autumn together, watch the moon side by side.”
Wen Xin still shook her head. “That doesn’t feel right. Mid-Autumn is for reuniting with family. I’d just be an outsider…”
Shi Qianyu cut her off, her tone even softer and more earnest. “But Sister isn’t an outsider.”
“Think it over some more, okay?” The light turned green. Shi Qianyu ruffled Wen Xin’s hair and started the car again. “I’ll give my family a heads-up ahead of time, prepare all the gifts we need. When we go back together, the only thing you have to decide is whether you want to come. Don’t worry about anything else.”
“But if you really don’t want to, I won’t push. I’ll respect your choice. It’s just…”
Wen Xin glanced sideways at Shi Qianyu’s face. “Wh-what?”
Shi Qianyu grinned. “But from the bottom of my heart, I sincerely hope you’ll come.”
They’d reached Wen Xin’s neighborhood. Shi Qianyu parked the car and, before saying goodbye, leaned in to plant a soft kiss on her cheek. “And if you do, I’ll be over the moon.”
Her eyes sparkled, transforming once more into the clingy big cat only Wen Xin ever saw. Wen Xin met her gaze, unable to bear the thought of disappointing her, and held back any more refusals.
In the end, she nodded lightly. “Alright… I’ll think about it.”
She was deeply grateful for Shi Qianyu’s kindness. “Thanks for inviting me, A-Yu.”
Shi Qianyu took her hand, lifting it to her lips for a gentle kiss.
“You’re welcome.”
~~~
Wen Xin showered and fixed herself a simple dinner.
Without Shi Qianyu there, she had no appetite for much. She tidied the dishes and slipped into bed.
She’d meant to log into her game, but remembering the invitation, she didn’t want to keep Shi Qianyu waiting too long. She decided to mull it over first.
She set her phone on the pillow. It had been a while since she’d checked it. A few texts chimed in, but she figured they were just spam and ignored them.
Moments later, a call came through.
Wen Xin jumped, startled, then answered. A voice crackled from the speaker. “Hello? Wenwen? Is that you, Wenwen?”
She knew that voice all too well—it was her nightmare, the kind that jolted her awake even in dreams.
Wen Xin’s throat went dry. After a long silence, she finally managed, “…Yeah.”
“Is there something you need, Auntie?”
Since starting university, Wen Xin had left that so-called “home” behind and never returned. She’d worked part-time to cover tuition while chipping away at the debt she owed her aunt and uncle.
Every moment living with them had been filled with their scornful complaints. They claimed her parents had gone bankrupt before the accident that took them, that everything had been settled, leaving nothing behind. It was they who’d scrimped and saved to raise her.
“For your sake, my son suffered so much!” Auntie loved to gripe at meals, yanking the platter of chicken further toward herself, away from Wen Xin. “Your parents too, dumping a burden like you on us and leaving us with all this trouble!”
“Without us, you’d have starved! You can never repay our kindness!”
Wen Xin had etched those words deep in her heart, never forgetting.
Once she could earn her own money, she escaped their disdainful glares. To clear the debt faster, she sent part of every paycheck to them.
Uncle and Auntie accepted the money and saw her as somewhat useful, softening their attitude a touch. But Wen Xin knew it was all pretense. The mere sight of Auntie raising her hand, the sound of their loud voices—even hearing them now—still filled her with fear.
She was like Pavlov’s dog, conditioned long ago in those years. She couldn’t change it or forget it easily. All she could do was run away.
So over the years, aside from the money transfers, she’d never reached out. Hearing Auntie’s voice now plunged her back into terror.
But the woman on the other end of the line noticed nothing amiss. “How have you been lately? Eating properly?”
The sudden concern only heightened Wen Xin’s panic. “Y-yeah, pretty good.”
Auntie muttered under her breath. “All grown up and still mumbling like a kid.”
Uncle must have swatted her, whispering a reminder. “Quiet down—Wen Xin’s listening!”
“Oh.” Auntie acknowledged it and switched back to her overly friendly tone. “Good to hear. Your uncle and I can relax knowing you’re doing well.”
“Are you coming back for Mid-Autumn? It’s been so long. Your younger brother misses you. The family’s got to reunite properly.”
Family—what a novel idea.
Wen Xin had no idea what had prompted the call, but her instinct was to refuse. “No, thanks.”
“We’re working overtime,” she lied, not caring whether they believed her. She was simply desperate to get off the phone. “I’ll come visit when I have time. Not this time, though.”
“I have something else to do here. Gotta go.” She rushed through the words as quickly as possible and cut the call before they could respond.
The room was perfectly still, the night breeze drifting in through the window—pleasant and refreshingly cool.
But Wen Xin had no attention to spare for it. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead, her hands trembled faintly, and it took several deep breaths before she could steady her nerves. It had been just one phone call, yet its effect on her was profound.
Her phone buzzed a few more times during that stretch, but Wen Xin didn’t dare look. Only after a long while did she finally pick it up again.
Fortunately, Uncle and Auntie hadn’t sent any more messages. What filled the screen instead was the contact name she’d given Shi Qianyu: an adorable little cat.
In her messages, Shi Qianyu had shared a photo of her dinner, explaining that she was finally free and asking if Wen Xin had eaten yet.
She had also sent over an expectant emoji package, asking in a coquettish tone: 【What is Sister doing? Have you given proper thought to my proposal?】
Realizing Wen Xin hadn’t replied for ages—probably assuming she had gone to sleep—a few minutes later, Shi Qianyu sent her goodnight wishes: 【Asleep? Goodnight. Wishing you sweet dreams tonight too.】
【See you tomorrow.】
Her gentle, tender words were the perfect salve for Wen Xin’s soul.
Wen Xin read through the messages carefully, gradually regaining her composure without even realizing it. But the fear buried deep in her heart still lingered, refusing to fully fade.
That fear propelled her forward on instinct, drawing her toward the light.
In the end, she made up her mind and agreed to Shi Qianyu’s proposal.
She typed back: 【A-Yu, can I really come?】
【I really want to—with you.】