Chapter 64 Part 2

Her indifferent reaction left Bo Ranying feeling unsteady. She pressed on a bit harder, her tone growing urgent. “I’ve had time to think things over these past few days. I never should have impulsively accepted Qiao Xiuyu’s pursuit right after fighting with you. Truth is, I don’t like him at all. I only ever admired him as a friend. Even after we got together, I never felt a spark. Over those two years, our most intimate moments were just holding hands or hugging—like friends, really. It was all so flat and ordinary.” She was desperate to prove to Nan Qi how wrong her past decision had been, seizing what felt like the perfect moment. She feared that if she let it slip, she’d never muster the nerve to confess and make amends again.

She didn’t bother polishing her words, just blurted out her rawest emotions.

Nan Qi felt a suffocating tightness in her chest. It hurt, and it struck her as absurdly laughable. The casual mention of “friends” from Bo Ranying’s lips burned her. She couldn’t even parse the specifics of what was being said.

In an instant, rage surged up, drowning out all reason.

She raised her voice, cutting in coldly. “So what? Are you here to tell me you’ve made another friend?”

“You just love collecting friends that much, don’t you, Bo Ranying?”

When Nan Qi got angry, it was as if the air around her solidified, the temperature plummeting.

Bo Ranying flinched, wounded by the sarcasm in her words. A dense ache bloomed in her chest. She hadn’t imagined Nan Qi would misunderstand so badly.

She stammered, growing more flustered and prone to slip-ups. “That’s not what I meant, Baby. Don’t get the wrong idea.”

The way Bo Ranying’s voice wrapped around “Baby” was achingly tender. Nan Qi had melted into that endearment so many times before, losing herself in it. She’d convinced herself that a special nickname meant affection, that those ambiguous overtures were real. And so she’d handed over her heart, time and again.

But it hadn’t earned her equal sincerity in return.

One word—”friends”—had trapped her for eleven years.

Willingly.

Nan Qi wearily closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her chest, reminding herself not to soften.

She couldn’t afford to stumble over Bo Ranying a second time.

Those loves that went unrequited, the girls she’d thought as a youth were just one step away—only to realize as an adult that oceans and mountains lay between them. She refused to taste that pain again.

“Whether I misunderstand or not, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

Bo Ranying caught the casual dismissal in her tone and scrambled for proof that Nan Qi still cared. “After I posted that breakup statement, a bunch of people started speculating nastily about me. But then all those comments vanished. The accounts that had been badmouthing me started posting apologies on Weibo one after another.

“I only found out later that you’d sent them lawyer letters, Little Qi. That’s why they realized they were wrong and shut up. Little Qi, thank you. Thank you for standing up for me.”

Nan Qi: “The lawyer letters had nothing to do with me. You got it wrong.”

“That was Senior Sister’s doing.”

Bo Ranying felt a pang of disappointment but clung to hope. “But if it weren’t for you, why would Senior Sister Sheng help me out?”

In a way, Bo Ranying had actually guessed the truth.

Nan Qi had no interest in debating the story’s details with her.

She’d already spotted Nan Xi craning his neck outside, no doubt wondering why they hadn’t gotten out after parking.

Nan Qi pushed open the car door, cutting off Bo Ranying’s questions.

“Nan Xi and the others must be getting impatient.” Her tone was cool and distant.

In moments, her figure vanished from the car, striding toward Nan Xi.

Bo Ranying sat frozen in the car, staring at Nan Qi’s retreating back. Her eyes suddenly reddened, and the pent-up bitterness welled up as tears, streaming endlessly down her cheeks.

She frantically wiped at them with the back of her hand, sobbing in hiccuping gasps.

No crying—Aunt Zhou was waiting outside. Everyone was waiting. Stop wasting time here. Wipe those tears and get out!

She commanded herself over and over, but the tears wouldn’t obey. They seemed determined to drain every drop of sorrow from her heart.

It took her five full minutes to compose herself, ensuring Aunt Zhou wouldn’t notice anything off. Before stepping out, she grabbed some loose powder, dabbed it around her eyes with a brush to conceal the redness, and checked that it looked natural enough—no signs she’d been crying—before finally exiting the car.

When Zhou Ru asked what was wrong, she brushed it off with a casual excuse.

Zhou Ru didn’t press, probably because Nan Qi had already smoothed things over for her beforehand.

Little Qi was still so thoughtful.

But that thoughtfulness now filled her with bittersweet ache.

Nan Qi had already checked in at the hotel front desk using the verification code and collected two room cards. She returned to the car, and together they hauled all the luggage up to the river-view room in one go.

Zhou Ru unpacked a few essentials.

Nan Qi glanced at her watch. It was right around dinnertime.

She asked for everyone’s preference. “What do you want for dinner? I’ll book a restaurant—Cantonese, Hunan, Sichuan, or…?”

“No restaurants!”

Zhou Ru cut her off first, not even letting her finish. “The family’s all together for once—why eat out? You can have restaurant food anytime, but not tonight. Mom’s cooking for you.”

She’d come to Linxi precisely to make Nan Qi’s life more comfortable within her means and to probe the reason for her low spirits.

Worried Nan Qi might resent her intrusion after so many years apart, she’d brought Nan Xi along as a buffer between mother and daughter.

No way was she letting Nan Qi eat takeout from some hotel restaurant.

Zhou Ru took charge of the evening’s plans.

People always brimmed with confidence in their element—like Zhou Ru, who ruled the kitchen back home.

She first asked what ingredients Nan Qi had on hand, then decided on the menu. When she learned the fridge held only eggs and some drinks, she fell silent.

Heartache mingled with exasperation.

“Don’t you ever cook at home?”

“Uh, does boiling water for instant noodles count…?”

Zhou Ru shot her a look of clear disapproval, tinged with barely veiled disdain.

“See? Why’d you move out in the first place? You and Ranran could look after each other.”

Back home, she’d heard about Bo Ranying’s breakup and canceled engagement, which prompted the suggestion. Otherwise, despite her concerns, she wouldn’t have pushed Nan Qi and Bo Ranying back together.

Bo Ranying nodded along. “Aunt Zhou’s right.”

Silently signaling her stance.

She wanted it.

Under Zhou Ru’s direction, the three of them headed to the market first to buy ingredients for dinner, then drove back home.

Borrowing the momentum from Zhou Ru and Nan Xi, Bo Ranying stepped into Nan Qi’s new place for the first time.

She lingered awkwardly at the doorway.

It felt like standing before Pandora’s box, unsure what garish wonders—or horrors—lay within.

Nan Qi opened the door, and Nan Xi and Zhou Ru breezed in without a second thought.

No blood ties, but years under one roof made them family all the same.

Their arrival had been so abrupt that Nan Qi hadn’t had time to prepare. After the call, she’d urgently ordered three pairs of slippers as a stopgap.

She unpacked the brand-new slippers and handed them out.

Bo Ranying stayed quiet. She noticed that aside from the pair on Nan Qi’s feet, there was another woman’s pair in the entryway cabinet—clearly used, but not offered to guests.

Someone else had been here, and Nan Qi had gone out of her way to get her slippers.

The answer was obvious, no need to dwell.

Bo Ranying’s chest tightened with a dull ache.

She had once tailed Nan Qi and Tang Lian. That time, Tang Lian had invited Nan Qi over to her place to watch a movie, and Bo Ranying had followed them all the way to the Hanhai Garden neighborhood.

At the time, she had assumed it was just Tang Lian’s home there.

Only today did she discover that Nan Qi’s new place was in the same neighborhood as Tang Lian’s!

Just how close did they have to be for Little Qi to keep a separate pair of slippers ready for Tang Lian?

Bo Ranying’s sharp instincts recalled a Moments post Tang Lian had shared several days earlier, mentioning that she was getting a pair of slippers to match Nan Qi’s size.

Working backward from that point, Nan Qi and Tang Lian must have started spending time together.

Meanwhile, over these past days, she and Nan Qi had barely exchanged a word.

Their few interactions had completely upended their old dynamic. Normally, Bo Ranying would chatter on and on, with Nan Qi offering only brief replies—sometimes delayed, trapping her in an endless loop of waiting.

Half a day might pass before Nan Qi responded, or even a full day.

Bo Ranying’s heart fluttered uncertainly, thick unease churning within her. She felt like she had missed so much during these days.

She had always been so confident.

But tonight’s blows from Nan Qi had hit too hard and too deep—especially that conversation in the car. Nan Qi’s reactions had nearly shattered her confidence and pride, leaving her unable to gauge her place in Nan Qi’s heart anymore.

Dazed and muddled, she stepped into Nan Qi’s home.

As she passed through the living room, she slowly took in the decor with a sweeping glance and spotted many familiar little trinkets—things Nan Qi had brought from their old rental apartment. Seeing them again filled her with a warm sense of familiarity.

She ran her fingers over them, her eyes softening with emotion.

Beyond those well-worn treasures from years past, she also noticed some brand-new items she had never seen before.

Like the two plush dolls nestled side by side on the sofa cushions.

She had never laid eyes on them.

An inexplicable pull guided her. The moment she spotted them, she strode over, picked up the two plush dolls, and examined them closely, rubbing the soft fabric.

Their meaning wasn’t hidden at all.

The instant she lifted them, she noticed it.

The dolls’ tags hadn’t been snipped off, as if deliberately left intact.

On the blank side of the plain tag, someone had written in elegant black ink:

【Atonement gift for Big Sister—accept it, and you can’t stay mad anymore~】

The handwriting was delicate, with firm strokes in precise small script.

It was unfamiliar.

Bo Ranying’s fingertips sank into the dolls’ soft fur as her gaze locked onto those words. Something snapped in her mind, stiffening half her body.

A sour bitterness flooded her chest, crashing over her again and again.

She couldn’t contain the surging emotion.

Clutching the dolls, she went to find Nan Qi.

Her voice broke, hoarse and ragged. “Who wrote this? Why does she call you Big Sister?”

Bo Ranying pinched the doll, thrusting the tagged side right up to Nan Qi’s face. She couldn’t rein in her turbulent emotions, making her tone sharp and accusatory, like an interrogation.