Chapter 51

Bo Ranying plunged into a whirlwind of chaos. She clutched her head, where intermittent waves of pain still throbbed without mercy. Stumbling to the door, she found it still gaping wide open—Qiao Xiuyu had bolted in a panic, too flustered to even shut it behind him.

Gripping the doorframe for support, Bo Ranying’s teeth chattered uncontrollably, clacking together as her entire body trembled. The door rattled faintly under her shaking grip.

More than ten minutes had passed since the incident, but she still hadn’t snapped out of it. She remained trapped in the nightmare of that sudden assault, Qiao Xiuyu’s twisted, ferocious face flashing relentlessly through her mind.

It was the first time she had faced something so terrifying, completely unprepared.

Everything that had happened tonight eclipsed every horror story she had ever read or watched.

She gulped down air facing the doorway, confirming that the lingering trace of his presence had finally dissipated. Only then did she weakly push the door shut.

That simple motion felt like flipping a switch labeled “defense.” She had sealed herself inside her own enclosed sanctuary, where no one else could intrude—no more terrifying intruders.

Yet gradually, even that didn’t feel like enough.

Light spilled only from the bedroom and living room, casting illumination in too narrow a radius.

Every patch of darkness seemed to harbor abyssal monsters from the void. The moment she drew near, they would gape their bloodied maws and swallow her whole.

Startled by her own horrifying imaginings, she bolted through the apartment like a fugitive, flicking on every light switch in a frenzy. Only when the entire space blazed with brightness did her scarred, terrified heart find the faintest sliver of solace.

Steam still rose visibly from the dishes on the dining table.

What should have been a cozy meal had gone uneaten. Bowls brimming with rice and food lay scattered haphazardly, chopsticks flung askew across the surface. Grains of rice and pools of soup had trickled out, forming ugly trails on the wood.

A stark reminder of the chaos that had unfolded right there.

It easily reignited Bo Ranying’s memories.

She didn’t want to dwell on that scene. Moving like a zombie, guided by her top instinct for self-preservation, she swiftly cleared the mess. Leftover food went straight into the trash, used pots and utensils got scrubbed spotless, and everything was neatly stowed away in the cabinets. The table gleamed pristine once more, as if she could erase every trace of what had happened.

Exhausted, Bo Ranying slumped onto the fluffy rug beside the sofa. She curled into a ball, arms wrapped tightly around her knees, head buried in the crook of her legs—like an ostrich desperately trying to hide from the world.

Her phone lay nearby. Unlocked, its screen still lingered on the emergency dial pad.

Those three stark digits glared accusingly.

A ridiculous, nagging reminder.

Bo Ranying wasn’t ready to tackle the fallout with Qiao Xiuyu just yet. She couldn’t calm herself enough.

Her finger swiped away the numbers. On instinct, she scrolled to the contact labeled “Baby”—the nickname she had given Nan Qi back in high school.

Whenever trouble struck or problems piled up, Nan Qi was always the first person she thought to turn to for help.

Over the years, Nan Qi had been her guardian angel, her rock-solid pillar of support. With Nan Qi by her side, Bo Ranying felt emboldened to face anything.

Her reliance on Nan Qi surpassed even that on her own family.

This time, too, she yearned to reach out—to pour out the terror of her ordeal, to admit she had misjudged Qiao Xiuyu and ignored Nan Qi’s warnings.

Qiao had hidden his dark side masterfully for two whole years, never letting a hint slip.

She wanted to unload every tangled emotion swirling inside her onto Nan Qi.

But this time, a thread of rationality in her mind blocked that impulse.

She recalled the changes in Nan Qi these past few days. Those beautiful eyes, once brimming with indulgence and warmth, now held only indifference and detachment. The radar that had always picked up on Bo Ranying’s every tiny mood swing had gone offline. Gifts went unappreciated, and the special privileges Nan Qi once reserved just for her had been quietly revoked…

The shift had been so abrupt, so absolute—no transition, no mercy. Bo Ranying still felt adrift in a fog, the reality hazy and unreal.

Qiao Xiuyu’s accusations echoed vividly.

[Does Nan Qi want to be just plain friends with you?]

[Nan Qi means way more to you than I ever did, doesn’t she? Every moment, you care about her more than me.]

[Do you even know what real love feels like? In a true romance, intimacy should come naturally—you’d savor every second of it.]

Her head buzzed with too many voices, a jumbled mess that made it impossible to sift out anything coherent.

Bo Ranying sank into deep thought.

She especially couldn’t stomach Qiao Xiuyu’s insinuation that her bond with Nan Qi went beyond mere friendship. From the start, she had thrown herself into pursuing him without regrets, nurturing their relationship earnestly. She had even laid out her aversion to physical intimacy upfront, preferring a platonic kind of love.

Her first romance lacked the pounding heart and hormonal fireworks. She figured love came in many forms—maybe theirs was the quiet, cozy everyday variety.

She had envisioned their future, just as her parents hoped: steady steps toward engagement, letting things unfold naturally.

She had never betrayed that relationship in any way.

After that brief falling-out in high school, she and Nan Qi had talked it through and settled firmly back into friendship—no more flirtatious undercurrents.

Whenever she sensed any hint of something more from Nan Qi, she nipped it in the bud, steering them back to the safe boundaries of best friends.

Qiao Xiuyu’s accusations made her realize for the first time how he had twisted things, slandering her character. A chill ran through her.

What she had mistaken for kindred spirits was nothing but his carefully crafted facade.

She didn’t know Qiao Xiuyu at all—or rather, only tonight had she seen his true face.

As for his point about Nan Qi’s importance… Bo Ranying didn’t need to think twice. Nan Qi was the most vital person in her life, irreplaceably special. No other friend came close.

What did real love look like, anyway?

Did it mean being drawn irresistibly to someone, savoring every intimate touch as if it were the most natural thing in the world?

But with Qiao Xiuyu, she had never craved closeness—every time he drew near, an inexplicable aversion and tension gripped her.

She chalked it up to innate asexuality toward the opposite sex—no desire for physical contact, a valid minority trait.

Just like the LGBT crowd, wired differently from the mainstream in mind and body from birth.

Piecing it all together, Qiao Xiuyu had nailed one truth: she had never truly loved him. She had just clung to the safe, bland comfort of their time together, mistaking it for romance in her confusion, and stumbled into a two-year relationship.

From his perspective, she had wasted two years of his life.

Thank goodness it surfaced before the engagement. If they had barreled ahead blindly, unraveling it later would have been a nightmare.

Guilt gnawed at her, staying her hand from calling the police right away—fueled by this hesitation.

She hoped for an amicable split, a clean break.

Over the years, the only body besides her own that had ever sparked her curiosity was Nan Qi’s.

Drawn to her from the first day of high school orientation, eager to befriend her. An after-school mishap had forged their true closeness.

Impulsively, she had kissed her, touched her, yearned to stick by her side every moment, craving those exclusive privileges.

She had reveled naturally in every brush of contact with Nan Qi.

Was that what Qiao Xiuyu meant by love—the authentic rhythm of romance?

She did love Nan Qi.

But as a friend—not romantically!

She had settled that question a decade ago.

Bo Ranying’s thoughts spun in turmoil. She had never imagined herself harboring feelings for Nan Qi; the very idea seemed impossible.

Nan Qi was simply her absolute favorite among all friends—the most special one.

She loved glomming onto her, hated the thought of parting, resented any outsider disrupting their dynamic.

Surely, she could handle Nan Qi dating someone else.

She just couldn’t stand Tang Lian—that scheming interloper who had popped up out of nowhere, deliberately cozying up to Nan Qi while gunning for her.

What on earth had won Nan Qi over? Bo Ranying just couldn’t figure it out.

Ever since she had argued with Nan Qi and Tang Lian had appeared on the scene, the easy, carefree way she used to act spoiled around Nan Qi seemed like a thing of the past…

Nan Qi no longer indulged her. No longer comforted her…

The thought sent an indescribable ache rippling through Bo Ranying’s chest.

Something was lodged there, heavy and suffocating.

The sense of grievance filled her entirely, impossible to shake off.

Her mind flashed back to the scene from earlier that day: Nan Qi linking arms with Tang Lian, casting her aside without a second thought. The two of them looked so perfectly matched, so radiant and in sync. It had to be the blinding sunlight—why else would the glow surrounding them make her eyes sting and water? Why else would she feel the urge to charge forward and demand to know why Nan Qi had turned so cold toward her all of a sudden?

She set her phone down completely, too afraid to call Nan Qi again.

She dreaded hearing Tang Lian’s voice on the other end, gloating about every intimate detail of their movie date.

She dreaded facing Nan Qi’s indifference yet again.

Years later, during evening self-study in her first year of high school, she had run into the Class President by chance outside the physics lab. That serendipitous moment had swept away her hesitation, prompting her to smile and greet the Class President warmly.

And now here she was, feeling timid all over again.

Nan Qi had reverted to being that aloof High Ridge Flower—cold, distant, projecting an unmistakable “keep your distance” aura.

Their decade of closeness had been severed by the cruel lines of time and human meddling, reduced to fragile, iridescent bubbles drifting high in the unreachable sky. Beneath the sunlight, they shimmered transparently, vulnerable to the slightest touch.

The barest pressure would make them burst.

Bo Ranying yearned to recapture that familiarity. She didn’t want to watch those transparent bubbles vanish one by one.

A chaotic war of tiny figures raged inside her head.

She lurched to her feet and paced the room like a headless chicken.

Familiarity. Familiarity.

What else in the house held shared memories with Nan Qi?

Nan Qi had cleared out every last item connected to her!

Bo Ranying’s face drained of color. She exuded a shattered fragility, weak and drained. Her body, still not fully recovered from her recent ordeal, reeled from one brutal blow after another. She clung to consciousness by sheer force of will alone. Stars wheeled before her eyes, the floor heaved and swayed into a bottomless whirlpool, every step plunging into a yielding abyss.

She bit down hard on the tip of her tongue to stay alert.

At last, she latched onto a shared memory.

There, on the entryway hook for coats and hats, dangled an unremarkable shopping bag.

It was the ashtray she had salvaged from Nan Qi’s trash—the one Nan Qi had told her to cherish.

Back then, they had been each other’s dearest friends.

Tears streaming down her face, Bo Ranying rushed over. She snatched the bag, then carefully extracted the fragments inside, laying them out piece by piece across the table.

She was determined to piece the broken object back together, restoring it to its original form.