Chapter 24: “No Matter What, the Bad Guy is Me.” Part 1

“Suzhou?”

The navigation screen clearly displayed the city set as their destination.

Qiu Yiran’s motion to start the engine suddenly stopped.

“Anyway, we’re just passing by.”

Li Wuhui said.

She turned around to fasten her seatbelt, so her expression was hidden, but her tone sounded very calm.

“It’s a good chance to visit your great-aunt, isn’t it?”

Qiu Yiran fell silent, her palms pressing tightly against the steering wheel.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” It was Li Wuhui’s turn to ask her, her tone very direct. “Why aren’t you driving?”

“Why do you suddenly want to go see her?” Qiu Yiran suddenly felt her throat go dry.

She could feel Li Wuhui looking at her.

“What other reason could there be?”

Li Wuhui let out a light laugh and didn’t hold back because of the tormented expression on Qiu Yiran’s face right now.

“Of course it’s because I want to see her, and I want her to see what I’m like now.”

Qiu Yiran stared straight ahead without speaking. She knew Li Wuhui was saying this on purpose.

“After all, she was very good to me back then.” Li Wuhui paused for two seconds, her voice dropping extremely low. “And I didn’t even go see her when she passed away.”

Qiu Yiran clenched her fingers.

Li Wuhui was smiling, but it was hard to tell what tone it carried. “Because you wouldn’t let me.”

“Because we had already broken up by then.” Qiu Yiran said very quietly.

“Wrong.” Li Wuhui refuted her words.

Qiu Yiran’s eyelids trembled. She didn’t understand what Li Wuhui meant.

“It’s because you wanted to break up with me back then.” Under the sunlight, Li Wuhui’s eyelashes and hair seemed to glow. Her tone sounded almost like hatred, or perhaps it was just an illusion from the sun being too bright. “And I never agreed to it.”

Qiu Yiran struggled to part her lips. She didn’t know how to explain it to Li Wuhui—

Breakups were always a unilateral decision and didn’t require the agreement of the one being dumped.

At least, that was true for others.

“But,” as if knowing what she planned to say, Li Wuhui spoke first. “Now I agree.”

She no longer looked at Qiu Yiran but stared straight at Mang City’s narrow road ahead.

“So, I want to go see her one last time. That’s not okay?”

Perhaps because Li Wuhui’s gaze was no longer lingering on her face, Qiu Yiran finally felt a bit better.

Li Wuhui’s reason was reasonable enough.

Back when Lin Manyi was alive, she had indeed been very good to Li Wuhui. After Qiu Yiran mentioned Li Wuhui’s menstrual cramps, it was Lin Manyi who kept bringing it up.

Later, when Lin Manyi passed away from illness, right up to her last breath, she had fought to hold on and said many things, asking Qiu Yiran—

How was little Li doing now?

They could have become close as elder and junior. It was just that time had been too short, and they hadn’t had a chance to meet.

Three years later, recalling the days before Lin Manyi’s departure still brought Qiu Yiran bone-deep pain.

That had also been her most dazed and muddled period, so she hadn’t had the energy to properly accompany Lin Manyi on her final journey.

She had always felt indebted to Lin Manyi.

Maybe Li Wuhui was right.

In the end, it was Qiu Yiran’s selfishness back then that had prevented her from seeing Lin Manyi one last time.

After they went to Paris to get divorced, Li Wuhui really might never have another chance to visit Lin Manyi.

She pondered silently for half a minute.

Qiu Yiran took a few deep breaths.

Only when she confirmed she was calm enough did she finally start the car. She didn’t change the destination but drove along the route shown on the navigation.

Noticing the car finally moving, Li Wuhui’s gaze lingered on the navigation screen for a few seconds.

Confirming the destination hadn’t changed, she glanced at Qiu Yiran’s completely expressionless profile.

As expected, she thought.

She knew her approach was very aggressive and would inevitably make Qiu Yiran feel exhausted—maybe even make her regret agreeing to her request…

But she knew Qiu Yiran too well. Only this way would leave Qiu Yiran with no choice but to yield.

So Li Wuhui felt no intention of backing down. She closed her eyes, feeling a sense of relief instead.

“I’ll sleep for a bit. Wake me when we get there.”

–

Mang City wasn’t far from Suzhou.

If the journey was smooth, it would take about three or four hours.

Especially since Qiu Yiran drove very steadily—because of her condition, she was always cautious and careful behind the wheel.

A normal person might be excused for an accident.

But if it was her, even a minor scrape would inevitably make people think of her leg.

She didn’t want that to happen.

Especially not in front of Li Wuhui.

The afternoon had fine weather: sun, blue skies, people on the road hurrying home…

Their bright yellow taxi carved a path through these scenes, got onto the highway like a moving sunflower, with only two lonely seeds inside.

When they got off the highway—

Visibly, the cityscape rushed right up to them, far more prosperous than Mang City.

Familiar street scenes flashed by.

Qiu Yiran couldn’t tell if she was recalling fond childhood memories or the pain-wracked ones from three years ago, so she gripped the steering wheel even tighter.

But before the car reached the Tomb Garden, they got stuck in traffic.

Probably because it was the first day of the Lunar New Year.

The cars stopped again like a line of snails. Qiu Yiran gripped the steering wheel tightly, staring blankly at the bustling traffic outside.

At that moment, Li Wuhui suddenly spoke. “Are you scared?”

Qiu Yiran froze.

She turned her face to look—and realized Li Wuhui had woken up at some point.

The woman leaned half against the car window, her brows and eyes shrouded in dusk: half shadow, half light.

“You’re awake?” For some reason, Qiu Yiran let out a breath of relief.

She knew Li Wuhui probably hadn’t rested well the night before—from Paris to Mang City, then waiting so long downstairs at her rental apartment.

What did Li Wuhui think about during all those long journeys?

Li Wuhui made an “mm” sound. “Your new seats are really comfortable.”

Qiu Yiran was quiet for a moment. “The company replaced them in all the cars for the New Year.”

“Is that so?” Li Wuhui laughed. “Your company’s service is pretty good, then.”

“They even stock Turmeric Little Person Biscuits in the cars?”

Qiu Yiran tried to cover it up. “I bought them on the way.”

“New Year goods,” she added.

But she quickly thought that this level of care didn’t need explaining.

Because she truly felt—even if they were parting ways on this trip, they still needed to move forward side by side.

Li Wuhui said “oh.”

She didn’t dwell on the Turmeric Little Person Biscuits but brought the topic back to that matter.

“Are you scared?”

Qiu Yiran’s fingers stiffened.

And right then—

The long line of cars started inching forward. She pressed the accelerator and, after a while, denied it.

“I’m not scared.”

Li Wuhui didn’t refute her immediately, probably not wanting to press her at a time like this.

But Li Wuhui laughed.

The laugh wasn’t obvious—not mockery, not sarcasm. But the meaning was clear.

—How could you hide it from me?

But Li Wuhui didn’t say it out loud.

She closed her eyes again.

Probably lacking the energy to tangle with Qiu Yiran over this.

The car inched forward like a turtle amid the noisy, chaotic road.

Qiu Yiran didn’t bring up any other topics. She forced herself to focus, but this stretch of road was far too long.

When they stopped again, she couldn’t help but think of Lin Manyi’s life—

Lin Manyi had been a kind but stern old woman. Qiu Yiran had grown up under her care without feeling the absence of family.

She remembered, when she was young and ignorant, she would shout at all the adults who teased her about not having parents: “Others have moms and dads, I have Lin Manyi.”

Lin Manyi was a teacher herself but never got angry when Qiu Yiran called her by name. However, if Qiu Yiran called other teachers by name, Lin Manyi would throw a fit and punish her by forbidding dinner for three days.

Before Qiu Yiran even started elementary school, Lin Manyi had taught her to write her own name first, then her parents’ names, and finally Lin Manyi’s—not to remember the parents who didn’t love her, but to remind her—

Her mother Qiu Yun, her father Wei Fan, her great-aunt Lin Manyi. She wasn’t a person without roots.

Even three years ago, when she had fled back to the country in a daze, Lin Manyi had still accepted and tolerated her despite everything.

Lin Manyi had never given up on raising her to be a positive, confident person.

And now—

She had to face Lin Manyi in this state.

“You really are scared.”

Li Wuhui’s voice suddenly filled the car, pulling Qiu Yiran’s thoughts from the past.

She snapped awake.

She saw the densely packed cars ahead and the dusk almost spilling onto her eyelids.

In a daze, she looked at Li Wuhui in the passenger seat—Li Wuhui still had her eyes closed, expressionless.

As if she hadn’t spoken at all.

Qiu Yiran thought she had misheard.

“What did you say?”

She asked softly, but got no response.

The woman in the passenger seat remained lazily drowsy.

Qiu Yiran suddenly felt emptiness in her heart. So it really had been her imagination.

But just as she was about to turn away, Li Wuhui spoke again.

“Qiu Yiran, why are you scared?”

Qiu Yiran froze completely.

At this point, she knew Li Wuhui had seen right through her. There was no need to hide anymore.

As the car moved forward again, she said very softly, “Maybe it’s guilt.”

“Just because of your leg?”

Li Wuhui asked.

“Or because you lost everything you had before, or because you didn’t become the person she hoped you’d be…”

Here, she saw Qiu Yiran’s face gradually blurring into the dusk and slowed her tone.

“So you’re afraid to see her, afraid she’ll be disappointed in you?”

“Probably none of that.” Qiu Yiran shook her head.

“Then why?” Li Wuhui was persistent.

“It’s probably—”

Qiu Yiran hesitated. She stared at the taillights of the car in front, her words slowing.

“Because I still haven’t stood back up.”

After voicing the real reason, Qiu Yiran let out a long breath, feeling a moment of relief from the stagnation in her heart.

But soon, it was submerged again by a weight like a thousand pounds of water.

“There are so many people in this world who’ve lost limbs in accidents—too many to count. I’m not the worst or most helpless among them.”

“On the contrary, I was young back then, had enough money to support my recovery, and had family and friends supporting me…”

Even a lover.

Qiu Yiran didn’t say that word aloud—because just thinking it burned her heart.

So she just watched the people passing by outside, forcing a casual smile.

“Many people are worse off than me, but they still managed to stand back up after something like that, forget the bad parts the accident brought, and even become inspirations for others…”

She lowered her eyes in silence.

It was as if even her breathing had been swallowed by the traffic, making it hard to finish. After a long pause, she said,

“But I didn’t.”

And I shouldn’t have been defeated so easily.

“This is probably the most disappointing way for her.”

Dusk gradually deepened. Qiu Yiran hoped her tone sounded light enough when talking about it.

“After all, it’s been three years, and nothing about me has changed.”

The road stretched on for a long time after that, and Li Wuhui didn’t speak for a long while.

Qiu Yiran didn’t know if Li Wuhui was disappointed in her too. If she was, Qiu Yiran would actually be glad.

Because they were going to get divorced, after all.

After who knew how long, amid the drifting air wrapped in dusk between them, she finally heard Li Wuhui say,

“Mm, I get it.”

A very flat tone.

Qiu Yiran felt she should be pleased, but for some reason, she didn’t feel that way.

She gripped the steering wheel woodenly and stopped again behind the car ahead.

“But,” right then, Li Wuhui spoke again.

“Don’t be scared.”

Three simple, clear words.

Qiu Yiran’s breathing stilled.

“Because you can just blame it all on me.”

Li Wuhui slowly opened her eyes. “Anyway, it was me who insisted on making you go.”

Through the twilight, Li Wuhui looked at her and paused for several seconds.

It was as if she were carefully choosing her words, unsure how to handle the situation and afraid of scaring her.

“No matter what, the bad guy is me.”

Her tone was very cautious.

Qiu Yiran’s eyes heated up. She wanted to refute Li Wuhui, but her throat felt blocked.