She had no idea what Bo Ranying truly thought of her—always hurting her without restraint, over and over. Her heart was made of flesh and blood, not steel.
Nan Qi looked frail and weak, her face deathly pale as if she’d suffered a devastating blow. She felt utterly miserable.
Bo Ranying couldn’t bear the sight. She reached out to stroke Nan Qi’s arm, hoping the gesture might lend her some strength.
But Nan Qi still wouldn’t yield.
A gnawing sense of crisis kept surging through Bo Ranying’s heart.
She needed to know if Nan Qi had dressed up so beautifully today just to meet Tang Lian.
Her suspicions were plain as day, and Nan Qi knew Bo Ranying wouldn’t let it go without an explanation.
Her heart clenched under the sting of that doubt.
Nan Qi squeezed her eyes shut, exhaustion crashing over her like a wave, leaving her utterly drained.
In the heavy silence, faint sounds began to filter into her ears.
She heard the clamor of crowds and traffic streaming past the window; two passing aunties gossiping about how vegetable prices at the market had spiked again; birds perched on the utility pole nuzzling each other and chattering noisily; the sprinkler truck rumbling by, its cheerful music infusing the city with life… And finally, her own voice, light and fragile as it fell.
“I have no idea how Tang Lian’s business card ended up in my car. We never exchanged names or contact info, let alone made plans to meet.”
“So what if she’s pretty? Does that mean I have to like every attractive person I see and pursue them? That would make my love way too cheap.”
Unlike the searing pain she’d felt at first—when she’d realized Bo Ranying was questioning her feelings—Nan Qi’s heart was surprisingly calm now as she explained.
She wondered if, over all these years, she’d spoiled Bo Ranying too much, indulged her endlessly. Had that eroded her own boundaries bit by bit? And had Bo Ranying, secure in her total dominance over their relationship, grown bold enough to rein her in without a second thought?
A breeze parted the fog before her eyes, letting a fleeting ray of sunlight through before thicker mists closed in again.
But that glimpse had rung a timely alarm bell for Nan Qi.
All those details she’d deliberately ignored or brushed aside—they needed to be dragged into the open and examined properly.
With Nan Qi’s flat denial—no meeting with Tang Lian, no exchange of business cards, and Tang Lian’s story about the ignored friend request nothing but a blatant lie meant to manipulate her—Bo Ranying’s nagging unease finally lifted.
She let go of the defenses she’d raised against Tang Lian’s advances and leaned playfully against Nan Qi’s waist, nuzzling her cheek against her. “Sorry, Little Qi. I said something stupid and didn’t think about your feelings.”
Nan Qi’s lips pressed into a thin line. Her expression didn’t soften at Bo Ranying’s coquettish apology.
Still, her body betrayed her, stirring involuntarily at the familiar closeness.
She fought down the impulse to lean in and cuddle back.
Bo Ranying noticed the lack of response but didn’t panic. She’d probably pushed too hard with her probing earlier.
Switching to a lighter, more playful tone, she started griping about Tang Lian.
“It’s all Tang Lian’s fault. You won’t believe this—she messaged me on WeChat saying she wanted to get to know you, that she was into you. She even claimed you’d already swapped contacts, but you were ghosting her friend request on purpose. I… I didn’t think twice. I bought her story and accidentally sent her your WeChat.”
“It’s all my fault. I was too trusting…”
Bo Ranying’s face fell as she spoke, the picture of regret and self-reproach. She snuck sidelong glances at Nan Qi.
Nan Qi’s brows furrowed tightly. Zeroing in on the crucial detail, she pressed, “You gave my WeChat to Tang Lian?”
“Why hand over my WeChat to someone who’s interested in me—without even asking me first?”
“Uh, it was just a slip-up. I didn’t mean to—” Bo Ranying shrank back, neck retracting like a turtle.
Nan Qi fell silent for a beat, then whipped out her phone and opened WeChat. Sure enough, a red notification dot blinked in her contacts.
She tapped it. There was the friend request.
Tang Lian’s profile picture was a scenic shot from the beach, and her note read: [Your little umbrella says she wants to see Mommy~] Signed, Tang Lian.
Nan Qi rejected it without hesitation and deleted the message.
She locked the screen and turned, a chill flooding her eyes as she fixed a cold stare on the innocent-faced girl beside her—the one whose cheeks dimpled so endearingly. Sarcasm laced her words: “An accident?”
“I don’t buy it.”
She shoved Bo Ranying away from her and scooted toward the car door, putting some distance between them.
The abrupt push shattered Bo Ranying’s train of thought.
She froze in shock, utterly bewildered.
Confusion bloomed across her face.
“Little Qi…”
I hope there’s a twist and she doesn’t end up with her