No voices greeted her. Bo Ranying could only hear her own breathing, suddenly heavy and ragged, like a crushing punch that knocked her flat in the most humiliating way.
The apartment, usually tidy and cozy, now looked as if it had been ransacked by a swarm of locusts. With one glance, she could see that many familiar things were missing.
The clay doll they had made together at that DIY workshop was gone from the top of the shoe cabinet. Bo Ranying stood frozen at the door, a bad premonition rising in her heart.
She forgot she was still clutching something in her hands. In her panic, her grip slackened unconsciously, and the bowl of tangy lemon hand-torn chicken plummeted to the floor. It spilled into a messy heap, the broth upside down, utterly unappetizing.
The crash snapped her out of her spiraling thoughts.
Bo Ranying hurried forward. She had to check more!
As she inspected the apartment bit by bit, memories of her time with Nan Qi flooded back—every little moment they’d shared. She clung to the slim hope that she was wrong.
Last night during their chat, Nan Qi’s expressions had seemed genuine. She had been thoroughly dissatisfied with every house they’d viewed, and at Bo Ranying’s urging, she’d turned down the agent right then and there. That should have put an end to any moving plans.
Only because Nan Qi had stopped mentioning the move had Bo Ranying felt safe enough to stay late at the dance troupe for overtime, without bothering to drop by Shengqi Law Firm.
Who could have known that just one day later, she’d come home to an empty house?
As Bo Ranying’s search reached its end, the thick unease in her heart solidified into cold certainty.
The fridge magnet they’d made together was gone—Nan Qi had taken the part Bo Ranying had crafted. The photo wall on the desk and the framed pictures on the wall were stripped bare; not even a single solo shot of Bo Ranying remained amid the missing couple photos.
The aprons neatly stored in the kitchen cabinet—they’d worn them just yesterday, bustling around making dinner—now only Bo Ranying’s was left. Not just that; every trace of Nan Qi’s daily belongings, everything tied closely to her life, had vanished without a sign.
All the evidence pointed to one thing: Nan Qi wanted to cut ties cleanly. They would never again be the inseparable pair they’d once been…
Bo Ranying collapsed onto the snowy white tiles, her gaze vacant as she stared into space.
She racked her brain desperately. What had she overlooked yesterday? Why was Nan Qi still so stubbornly moving out?
Her mind was a chaotic mess, throbbing with pain. She pounded her temples with her fingers, forcing the memories to surface.
Finally, it hit her: Nan Qi had only said she wasn’t happy with those houses and had no intention of moving into them. But she’d never directly answered whether she was moving at all!
Bo Ranying had filled in the blanks herself, jumping to conclusions and making decisions for Nan Qi on her own.
For the first time, Bo Ranying realized how laughable her rock-solid confidence had been.
Her hand gripped the nearby wall—the only thing she could hold onto—as if her heart had been stung by a bee. Her eyes burned and ached.
The thought that Nan Qi hadn’t wanted to leave her even a single memory, that she’d made her rejection so crystal clear, filled the vast apartment with painful solitude. Suddenly, Bo Ranying was all alone, and it hurt so much to let go.
Deep down, ever since she’d met Nan Qi, aside from that brief high school fallout when they’d avoided each other to save face, Bo Ranying had never imagined being apart.
Even if she hadn’t accepted Nan Qi’s confession, they could still be friends, right?
Bo Ranying couldn’t understand why Nan Qi was being so resolute.
She didn’t find Nan Qi at home, so she called her—but after countless tries, the phone stayed off.
She couldn’t find Nan Qi.
The realization crushed her. She was so frantic she even considered calling the police.
As she dialed Nan Qi’s number over and over, an incoming call interrupted. Peering at the screen, she saw it was Zhou Ru, Nan Qi’s mother.
Bo Ranying pulled herself together as best she could and answered.
But Nan Mother’s simple words shattered the fragile calm she’d barely managed to build.
“Auntie Zhou.”
“Oh! Ranran, are you catching a cold? Your voice sounds a bit hoarse.”
“No, just caught a chill. It’ll pass soon. Thanks for worrying, Auntie.” Bo Ranying lowered her voice, struggling to mask the sob threatening to break free.
It had been during the summer after freshman year of high school. Nan Qi had told her she was adopted by the Nan family and didn’t have a close relationship with her parents. That night, she’d run to the school to hide and cry because she’d overheard them discussing how raising a child was too expensive and planning to send her back to the orphanage. She’d been furious and heartbroken, bolting out in a panic.
Because of Nan Qi, Bo Ranying’s first impression of the Nan parents hadn’t been great.
But when Nan Qi told her family about Bo Ranying, Nan Father and Nan Mother had always been warm and attentive toward her, checking in constantly and showing real care.
At first, Bo Ranying was puzzled, but soon she realized through their repeated kindness that they saw her as a bridge to mend things with Nan Qi.
She’d found it both funny and touching. Over the years that followed, she’d actually grown close to Nan Father and Nan Mother.
She could feel how they treated her like another daughter, showering her with affection.
Hearing Nan Mother’s concerned voice now, so casually warm, made Bo Ranying’s nose tingle.
“The weather’s been all over the place lately—take care of yourself. I saw the forecast; there’s even thunder and rain where you are.”
“It poured the day before yesterday.”
They chatted idly for a bit.
Then Zhou Ru slapped her forehead. “Almost forgot! The fruit trees at home bore fruit, so I made Suan Ye preserves and shipped some to Linxi. Tracking says it’ll arrive tomorrow. Little Qi knows about it, but I worried she’d forget to tell you, so here I am reminding you.”
Bo Ranying paused, a memory flashing: her and Nan Qi strolling the school track, Nan Qi plucking a fruit and feeding it to her.
She could almost hear the girl’s clear, joyful laugh, carefree and lighthearted.
Zhou Ru recalled Nan Qi’s subdued mood that day, sensing something was weighing on her but unwilling to share. Unable to let it go, she probed indirectly with Bo Ranying.
“You know how it is, Ranran—Little Qi’s never been close to us. She never tells us if something’s wrong. You two are the closest; I feel at ease knowing you’re together, looking out for each other.”
“Little Qi seems to have something on her mind. Help Auntie keep an eye on her, okay?”
The chill from the tiles seeped into her body. Bo Ranying’s eyes slowly swept the room, taking in the unnaturally empty space. She sighed, her heart aching, hesitated, then softened the truth just enough before laying it out: “Auntie, Little Qi and I had a fight… She’s really mad at me and won’t talk to me.”
Zhou Ru: “!!!”
Exclamation points popped into Zhou Ru’s head. She went silent for a beat, then said, “You little rascal, teasing your aunt like that!”
Nan Qi might get mad at anyone, but never at Bo Ranying.
That was Zhou Ru’s long-held belief, not easily shaken.
She’d watched it all firsthand—how much Nan Qi treasured Bo Ranying, how unbreakable their bond was. Nan Qi would never ignore her.
She figured Bo Ranying was just joking around.
Chuckling with a sigh, Zhou Ru hung up. After a moment’s quiet reflection, she still couldn’t pinpoint why Nan Qi seemed down. No answers. She resolved to find time to visit Linxi and check on her.
Bo Ranying tried explaining a few times that they really had fought, but Zhou Ru wouldn’t believe her.
Zhou Ru’s unwavering faith only deepened Bo Ranying’s hurt.
She thought: Not just me— even Auntie Zhou, who’s watched our friendship from the sidelines, is so sure. Why did Nan Qi change all of a sudden?
Lost and dejected, she kept calling Nan Qi.
Time dragged on into the night. The phone kept saying it was off. Despair crept in, wild guesses swirling: Where had Nan Qi gone so late?
It wasn’t until after eleven that the call finally connected—but the voice that answered was Tang Lian’s, someone she’d only met recently!
The shock hit her like a thunderbolt.
She couldn’t fathom how Nan Qi had connected with Tang Lian, let alone ended up staying at her place, letting her answer Bo Ranying’s calls.
Nan Qi knew full well Tang Lian had ulterior motives toward her, yet she seemed completely unbothered.
Bo Ranying despised Tang Lian—scheming and sly, now even tricking Nan Qi.
Breaking her own rules for someone she’d met just twice, revoking privileges that used to be Bo Ranying’s alone, maybe even handing them over to Tang Lian.
Even making friends, Nan Qi was too unguarded, too hasty.
Bo Ranying knew nothing would happen between them, but the idea of Nan Qi spending the night at Tang Lian’s made her stomach twist with jealousy.
Her eyes and nose burned with bitterness. Overwhelmed by suffocating grievance and hurt, the sobs she’d barely held back during the call with Nan Mother finally broke free. She cried unrestrained, her shoulders shaking like chaff in the wind.
She didn’t want to hear Tang Lian gloating, so she hung up.
She didn’t want Nan Qi to move out—but she really had.
Bo Ranying didn’t want Nan Qi and Tang Lian to become friends. She could accept others befriending Nan Qi, but not Tang Lian. That woman was far too calculating, brimming with schemes and plots.
Most importantly, Tang Lian had stolen her unique place in Nan Qi’s heart.
A tangle of emotions churned within Bo Ranying’s heart, a suffocating discomfort filling her chest.
Tang Lian’s irritating voice was no longer ringing in her ears. Nan Qi wouldn’t be coming home tonight. In the deep hush of the night, the surroundings were utterly still.
She should get some proper rest.
Yet Bo Ranying felt no urge to sleep. The moment she closed her eyes, old memories looped endlessly in her mind, interwoven with the events of the past two days, replaying over and over.
Lost in a daze, Bo Ranying lay in bed but didn’t sleep a wink all night.
