Chapter 13: “Qiu Yiran, actually, you’re a very trustworthy person.”

Li Wuhui was a stage name.

—The one Qiu Yiran had given to Li Chunfeng.

It was probably sometime before the amputation when Li Wuhui had originally planned to re-sign with a new company. Hope had been within reach at that time.

She had several interviews with the new company.

After one of those times, she came back in a daze and pressed her frostbitten face against Qiu Yiran’s neck. She wasn’t sure if she was dreaming or speaking seriously, but in any case, she told Qiu Yiran—

The company wants me to pick a new name.

I’ve thought about it, so you do it for me.

Make it like you—like all or nothing, won’t turn back until you hit a dead end.

Later, because of Qiu Yiran’s amputation, the matter got dragged out repeatedly.

And then, Qiu Yiran broke up with her. Yet right before leaving, she still gave her those two words.

Wuhui.

—No return.

—Forever doing what she wanted to do, walking the path she wanted to walk, leaving no way out, and never looking back.

This was probably her parting wish.

At least in that moment, Qiu Yiran had been sincere.

But she hadn’t imagined—

That this name would later frequently appear on billboards by the roadside, becoming the global brand ambassador and spokesperson for various brands…

Just as she hadn’t imagined—Li Wuhui would appear before her again.

This Christmas Eve was different from the one in her memories. There was no snow, yet it was much colder than she remembered.

Like an overexposed expired film.

They were frozen in the center of the film, standing under the enormous Christmas Tree, facing each other, with fluffy artificial snowflakes drifting between their eyes.

Three years had passed, and she finally asked her: Did she hate this name that much?

Li Wuhui replied without mercy, “Yeah, because you gave it to me.”

Qiu Yiran felt she could accept that answer.

But she wouldn’t deny that when she asked the question, she still harbored a sliver of hope—if only they hadn’t ended up in this mutually resentful relationship.

At least, don’t treat the one sincere wish she could offer back then as an act of revenge.

Qiu Yiran lowered her eyes.

She suddenly felt herself dragged into an undersea whirlpool, her mouth and nose stuffed with stagnant seawater.

But right then, Li Wuhui’s voice pierced through the stifling vortex, clearly drifting to her ear—

“So that’s why I used it back then.”

Calm, emotionless, like stating a fact.

Qiu Yiran froze.

She clenched her fingers tightly and lifted her gaze.

Li Wuhui was no longer looking at her. Instead, she buried the lower half of her face in her smoky gray collar, her facial contours bathed in warm yellow light, like a still oil painting.

“But now I regret it.”

Regret? Yes, she should regret it. Qiu Yiran thought, if it were her, if she had used a name given by her ex-girlfriend and appeared in the public eye…

“Because from that moment on, everyone only calls me Li Wuhui.”

Artificial snow drifted down lavishly in the air. It had no temperature, yet it made Li Wuhui feel cold.

She didn’t like this kind of snow and buried her mouth and nose completely in her collar. With her lashes lowered, she said very softly,

“And I hate that.”

Because every time they called it, it reminded her of you once, made her recall what she had abandoned, what she had thoroughly lost, to become the Li Wuhui of today.

Hearing Li Wuhui say she regretted it, Qiu Yiran didn’t know what expression to face it with.

She just stood there stunned, like a snowman piled up by this artificial snow, silently waiting to melt.

“Qiu Yiran.” It wasn’t until Li Wuhui called her name again, her lips parting slightly behind the collar, that she spoke. “It’s snowing.”

She looked at her again, asking amid the lingering white breath,

“I want to eat another apple. Is that okay?”

–

Qiu Yiran went to buy an apple.

She didn’t know how she could possibly refuse Li Wuhui’s request when phrased like “Is that okay?”

On her way out, she also bought a fruit knife. Li Wuhui wasn’t in a great mood today; she could clearly sense it.

Both the apple and the knife were bought by her.

Li Wuhui didn’t insist on going with her, which made Qiu Yiran notice the change again. Because after her amputation, Li Wuhui had watched her very closely and wouldn’t let her do many things alone.

Including throwing out the trash downstairs, crossing the street, or even things like bathing and washing her hair that she should have done herself…

Qiu Yiran could accept that she was no longer a whole, intact person, but she couldn’t accept that this incompleteness meant she couldn’t take care of herself. Back then, she had been in a really bad state, throwing a lot of awful tantrums at Li Wuhui, and she couldn’t accept that Li Wuhui’s entire life revolved around her.

Because of that, they had many conflicts and arguments during that time, their relationship fluctuating.

That had been the most difficult period for both of them. But they hadn’t broken up then.

Qiu Yiran should have believed because of that—love conquers all.

But she still didn’t.

When she returned with the washed apple and knife, Qiu Yiran saw Li Wuhui sitting on a swing.

There were two single-person swings at the edge of the event square. Besides Li Wuhui, there was a kid on the other one.

Twenty-seven-year-old Li Wuhui swung at the same slow rhythm as the kid, her coat dragging on the ground, swaying leisurely as if chatting idly with her head tilted.

Qiu Yiran walked over slowly, languidly.

She walked slowly. Someone reached there before her—a person who had been wandering on the road with a phone in hand, seemingly curious. Finally, they stepped forward, held up their phone, and boldly asked, “Are you Li Wuhui?”

Li Wuhui nodded lazily and said, “Thanks, I paid good money to look just like her.”

A shocking statement.

The person wiped their face in astonishment, seemingly unable to respond, rubbed their hands awkwardly, and left.

The kid on the swing blinked and tilted their head. “Then who is Li Wuhui?”

“If you’ve seen her, you’d think she’s the most beautiful person you’ve ever laid eyes on.”

Li Wuhui said this without even blinking.

The kid went “Eh?” with a wrinkled-up face. “Have you seen her?”

“Yeah.” Li Wuhui said seriously, “I see her every day.”

Qiu Yiran laughed out loud.

The square was noisy and bustling; the laugh was barely noticeable at first and quickly stifled by her.

But Li Wuhui still heard it.

Almost the next second, she turned her head, squinted her upturned fox-like eyes to make out Qiu Yiran, then leaned her face against the swing chain and whispered something to the kid beside her.

The kid had a sudden realization, lifted their chin toward Qiu Yiran, and shouted in a childish voice,

“Li Wuhui, you really are pretty!”

Qiu Yiran was stunned.

But after the kid shouted that, their parent called them away. They didn’t say more and, passing by her, enthusiastically said, “Bye-bye, Li Wuhui!”

Qiu Yiran was amused and exasperated.

The swing was now empty.

She walked over and sat down slowly, asking Li Wuhui somewhat puzzled, “What did you tell them?”

“I just said Li Wuhui’s here.” Li Wuhui answered the white lie effortlessly.

“Lying to kids brings bad karma.” Qiu Yiran sighed.

“I didn’t lie to them.”

Qiu Yiran chuckled helplessly. “Alright then.”

The apple and knife were both washed. She hadn’t been idle and slowly peeled the apple in her hand.

It had been a long time since she’d done such delicate work, and with the cold weather, her movements were slow and careful. She still didn’t want to break the apple peel.

But Li Wuhui beside her seemed completely at ease with her holding a knife.

After watching for a bit, she pulled out a wine flask from somewhere and took slow sips—

A flat style, nothing fancy, black, but clearly very old and obviously the one she’d used before.

Li Wuhui was someone who clung to old things to the extreme.

It was one manifestation of her separation anxiety. Separation was betrayal to her; dealing with old possessions was abandonment.

She had just gotten off the high-speed train, yet somehow she had filled it with wine.

—Qiu Yiran suddenly felt worried about Li Wuhui’s living habits, even though she was now the ex considered a betrayer and shouldn’t overstep by worrying.

But wasn’t apple with alcohol a bit much?

“Are you going to control me?” Li Wuhui suddenly spoke up.

Qiu Yiran’s thoughts snapped back. She looked at the apple peel in her hand that had nearly broken and felt a palpitation.

She knew she shouldn’t say it, but she couldn’t help herself.

“Didn’t you just throw up earlier?”

Li Wuhui squinted at her. Not sure what expression she saw on Qiu Yiran’s face, she suddenly smiled.

Then she shook the wine flask in her hand.

“That kid shared some pomegranate juice with me earlier. Pretty sweet.”

Qiu Yiran breathed a sigh of relief.

Apple with pomegranate juice—

At least that combination didn’t sound too harsh on the stomach.

But she still couldn’t fully quell her concern. “Do you… still drink often?”

She remembered that before they broke up, Li Wuhui had quit drinking for her sake. Because during that time, she had been depressed and listless.

Li Wuhui had needed to stay healthy enough, strong enough, to be the one supporting both of them. To be honest, back then, Li Wuhui had changed a lot for her.

“I drink when I’m unhappy.” That was Li Wuhui’s answer to her.

How often are you unhappy? —For some reason, Qiu Yiran didn’t dare ask.

She could only hurriedly finish peeling the apple.

When she handed it to Li Wuhui, she glanced at the flashing Christmas lights opposite, which reminded her of many warm Christmas Eves in the past.

So she thought for a moment and added stiffly, “Merry Christmas Eve.”

Even though their relationship didn’t suit those words.

Li Wuhui took the apple from her hand.

Their fingers brushed her fingertips—ice-cold temperature—making her quickly pull away, as if she’d touched something she shouldn’t.

She gave the handkerchief to Li Wuhui and rummaged on herself for tissue to wipe her hands. In her haste, she heard the sound of biting into the apple from beside her—

A light bite, teeth meeting flesh, but it seemed like only a small bit before stopping.

Qiu Yiran inexplicably froze in place.

Apple juice stuck stickily to her hands and dripped down. Suddenly regretting not picking a better one, she turned to ask,

“Not sweet?”

Li Wuhui didn’t answer her question.

She just held the ice-cold apple in her chilled red fingers, paused for a moment, then took another gentle bite. “Qiu Yiran, actually, you’re a very trustworthy person.”

Qiu Yiran’s clenched fingers relaxed.

“Didn’t you say it before?”

Apple’s fresh scent filled the air. Li Wuhui lowered her lashes, then suddenly smiled.

“Whenever I came to you unhappy, you’d always be happy to peel an apple for me.”

Qiu Yiran suddenly found herself speechless.

She dug her nails into her palm, using all her strength to keep breathing.

Actually, Li Wuhui was completely wrong. She was the least trustworthy person, an unforgivable betrayer.

“Because we met on Christmas Eve.”

Li Wuhui said softly.

After that, she seriously ate the apple bite by bite. It was actually very sweet, but after finishing, she still felt tasteless in her mouth.

Perhaps it was true—many things had changed. People and events wouldn’t stay in place as she wished.

Even now, she still felt lost about it, unsure when exactly the change had begun.

“Qiu Yiran.”

Li Wuhui’s gaze fell into the distance, her smile ethereal, but her voice carried the weight of everything before this night.

“I’m not doing well.”