Chapter 62 Part 1

Both of them had reached the engagement stage. Not long ago, Bo Ranying had even gone to try on wedding dresses and settled on a style. She had been one of the first people to receive an invitation to Bo Ranying’s engagement banquet…

No matter how hard she tried, no matter how much sincere affection she poured in, she could never warm that block of ice that was Bo Ranying’s heart.

But then Qiao Xiuyu appeared, effortlessly capturing Bo Ranying’s heart and earning her unwavering choice.

How could a couple like that suddenly announce their breakup?

Nan Qi’s emotions were a tangled mess.

She never imagined that the next news about Bo Ranying would be something so unexpected.

The loading circle on her screen completed its spin, updating with new text.

Bo Ranying sakura: [Qiao Xiuyu and I have broken up. This was a decision we made after careful consideration. Not only did we reach a mutual agreement privately, but our families also discussed our situation openly and honestly face-to-face, confirming that we simply couldn’t continue down this path. In this relationship, there is no right or wrong. We both started with sincerity. We tried, we hit walls, we exhausted everything, and it fully proved that we weren’t right for each other—that neither of us was “the one.”

Parting ways amicably, each finding our own happiness—that sums up our relationship perfectly.

From now on, Qiao Xiuyu is just Qiao Xiuyu, the Qiao Family Second Young Master. And Bo Ranying is just Bo Ranying. No more tying us together.]

A few short sentences summed up the two years of Bo Ranying and Qiao Xiuyu’s romance.

From Bo Ranying’s words, Nan Qi could read a strong desire to completely sever ties with Qiao Xiuyu, driven by deep emotions.

It felt like this statement wasn’t just her duty as a public figure with a high-profile, much-discussed relationship—she wasn’t merely announcing the end to the world and updating her relationship status. More importantly, she hoped no one would link her name with Qiao Xiuyu’s anymore. She wanted to focus on her own life.

They had known each other for eleven years; Nan Qi understood Bo Ranying all too well.

Nan Qi lowered her gaze, the emotions simmering in her eyes impossible to discern.

She kept staring at that Weibo post, nearly burning a hole through the screen.

Outside the window, the sky suddenly darkened. Thick clouds blanketed the entire expanse, the wind shifting dramatically as if a winter rain was about to pour down.

The dim, translucent light fell across Nan Qi’s face, casting shadows over her eyelids. Her expression held a faint sorrow, accentuated in the subdued glow with hints of bitterness and astringency—like biting into an unripe persimmon, the puckering taste spreading across her tongue, numbing her heart and stiffening her resolve.

Mixed in were threads of hesitation, realization, subtle and intricate.

In short, a whirlwind of feelings.

Nan Qi knew her current mood wasn’t a rekindled attraction to Bo Ranying. Instead, she was nostalgic for her younger self—the one who had been head over heels for Bo Ranying, eyes full of her, convinced no one else would do.

Those two years when Bo Ranying dated Qiao Xiuyu had been Nan Qi’s most desperate, most agonizing time.

It was the first time she had felt jealousy toward a man.

When her frustrated longing for Bo Ranying peaked, dark thoughts had bubbled up in her heart more than once.

She hoped Qiao Xiuyu and Bo Ranying would crash and burn, that Bo Ranying would turn back and see her—or that she could snatch Bo Ranying away from Qiao Xiuyu’s side.

Something she had yearned for so long was now quietly coming true, like a dramatic, ironic painting.

In the instant she received the Weibo notification, Nan Qi had thought she would seize the chance without hesitation, pursue Bo Ranying like she had countless times before—moth to a flame, bashing her head against the wall. It was as if it was etched into her DNA, an instinct.

But she didn’t.

Nan Qi had truly let go. There was no greater grief than a dead heart.

Her first reaction was surprisingly muted.

First came surprise at their breakup, then a sigh. Ah, she had actually forgotten to turn off Bo Ranying’s special notifications.

As for that trending topic linking Qiao Xiuyu’s name, she couldn’t care less.

Scrolling down from Bo Ranying’s latest Weibo post, Nan Qi saw the netizens’ comments—everything under the sun. She skimmed a few, and a cold glint sharpened her brow.

—Wahhh, my first real-life ship actually got a bad ending. I don’t believe in love anymore.

—Why break up? I don’t get it. Qiao Er treats you so well, loves you so much, wants to lay the whole world at your feet. Best of all, he doesn’t act like some haughty young master—he’s always defending you. The perfect model boyfriend! Marrying into the family, you’d have zero mother-in-law drama and live like a pampered elite wife. What irreconcilable issue could force a breakup?

—Key point: Bo doesn’t mention any specific conflicts between her and Qiao, just brushes it off with “no one’s right or wrong.” Isn’t that a whitewash? If it was really just personality clash and an amicable split, why bother with that line after two years? Someone must’ve screwed up. Like upstairs says, no one walks away from elite wife life easily. Maybe she didn’t choose to leave—maybe she lost the right. Think about it…

—Drama alert—pass the popcorn.

—Sakura hasn’t posted a video in forever, just selfies. When’s the next vlog?

—The photos from last issue’s winter commute outfits had a whole different vibe. Did Sakura switch photographers?

There were too many bandwagon comments like that. The internet vibe was toxic; it was hard to tell genuine opinions from clout-chasing.

Nan Qi flipped through a few pages of comments, then reported every account slandering Bo Ranying. Some usernames and avatars screamed shady marketing bots, experts at stirring drama for heat, spewing the most twisted takes.

She didn’t want to dig into the breakup details, but she couldn’t stand seeing Bo Ranying maliciously attacked and smeared.

This would be the last time she stepped in as a friend to fend off trouble for Bo Ranying.

After this, it’d all be strictly business.

A distant memory surfaced in Nan Qi’s mind. She recalled Bo Ranying, who had accompanied her to an open class at school, poking her arm with a pen tip to get her attention. In a tone full of innocence and longing, Bo Ranying had said, “Little Qi, after graduation, come be my lawyer. Booking you in advance.”

“That’s still a long way off from graduation.”

“I know Little Qi will be an outstanding lawyer. My Baby will shine as a legal powerhouse in clients’ eyes.”

Nan Qi had etched those youthful words into her heart.

And Bo Ranying’s playful words came true. After Nan Qi got her practicing certificate, she really did become Bo Ranying’s lawyer.

Both of them shone brightly in their fields, becoming impressive adults.

Bo Ranying had a keen eye for market trends, endless brainstorming and creativity. She produced over a dozen viral videos that exploded online, racking up massive traffic and fans early on.

But good times didn’t last. Her success caught the eye of other online creators.

Soon after, videos mimicking her style sprouted like mushrooms after rain, flooding social platforms. Her ideas were ripped off, damaging her reputation and profits. The platform did nothing to support her claims, just slapping both sides lightly while plagiarism thrived.

During that time, Nan Qi poured everything into it—consulting teachers, Senior Sister, seniors, diving into unfamiliar legal territory. She spared no effort to defend Bo Ranying’s rights, and thankfully, the outcome was a triumph.

The site finally took down all videos stealing Bo Ranying’s concepts and issued new rules: Any imitation or repost of another creator’s video had to credit the original in the description.

After the uproar, smaller creators toned it down and mostly followed the rules. Bo Ranying rarely needed her help with disputes since, so Nan Qi had been her nominal lawyer on paper.

She figured it would stay that easy forever.

Nan Qi forwarded the details of those toxic accounts to Wenwen. After a moment’s thought, she dialed the internal line and issued instructions: “Follow up on my email. Coordinate with Lawyer Xu, draft the lawyer’s letter, and handle it ASAP. Don’t let it blow up or spread further.

“You and Lawyer Xu take full charge. No need to update me on progress.”

“Put it under Ye Sheng’s name. Get her signature after,” Nan Qi added thoughtfully, confirming nothing was missed before hanging up.

On the other end, Wenwen felt a twinge of confusion.

Nan Par had always handled Miss Bo’s matters personally before. This was the first time she delegated to someone else—like the sun rising in the west.

Wenwen glanced out the window. Thick clouds brewed a storm.

No sun in sight, whichever way you looked.

She didn’t let herself get distracted for long. Wenwen lowered her head to check her email. She never questioned her boss’s decisions and simply handled the tasks as Nan Qi had instructed.

Once Nan Qi had finished delegating all the matters, a weight lifted from her mind. Her gaze drifted back to her phone screen, pausing on Bo Ranying’s profile picture. She stared at it in silence.

The words she’d spoken to her client earlier echoed in her ears.

【A brand-new life is about to begin. Do you really want to cling to the past?】

She thought to herself: No, she didn’t.

There was nothing worth clinging to.

She should look forward instead.

“I’m done dwelling on it,” she murmured to herself.

With those words spoken, she immediately selected Bo Ranying’s profile. With unwavering resolve and not a hint of hesitation, she clicked to remove her from special attention—and unfollowed her.

She went back and refreshed her following list again.

Bo Ranying’s avatar was gone.

From now on, no matter what Bo Ranying posted, she wouldn’t get any notifications.

That was for the best.

Their relationship had retreated to this point—back to being the most familiar strangers, old friends who were practically acquaintances again. It felt right.

Nan Qi logged out of Weibo, dozed off for a bit, then tapped back into WeChat.

Tang Lian had already sent a barrage of messages, flooding their chat window.

【How’d you vanish mid-conversation?】

【Hello? Operator? Officer, I need to report a missing person—my friend Nan Qi!】

【Lawyer Nan, I suspect you’re trying to get my attention on the sly.】

【Since that other thing’s off the table, I’ll go easy on you today. You take me out to dinner as thanks for helping with the move. We can do it today. I’ll take a little loss here—in exchange for recommending some new comics to you.】

As she scrolled through the messages, a faint smile lit up Nan Qi’s eyes.

Just then, the clouds in the sky parted and shifted. The dark clouds dispersed, the sun hung high, and warm light poured down from the heavens, chasing away every last trace of gloom.

The storm that had been brewing earlier turned out to be nothing more than a flash in the pan.

Through the chat window, Nan Qi could almost picture the little fox on the other end tearing her hair out in frustration.

Seeing no reply for so long, Tang Lian must have reflected on whether her demands were too demanding and decided to compromise.

Having unwittingly gotten the better of Tang Lian filled Nan Qi with a strange sense of delight.

She typed back: 【Okay.】

It was a promise they’d made long ago, and Tang Lian wanted to cash it in today. Nan Qi was happy to oblige.