Chapter 25: “Liar.” Part 1

Qiu Yiran hid under the tree shade, burying most of her face in her scarf.

This action felt deeply intimate, making her feel as if the whole world was filled with Li Wuhui’s scent—

A hint of lingering Reversed Paris, the orange air freshener from the car, the natural fragrance of this woman’s hair, and the remaining body warmth… All mixed together in a wondrous way, like clouds, the clouds drifting in the sky.

Yet now, it was so close.

Like a cloud settling into her breath.

Qiu Yiran held her breath.

Just moments ago, she had kept her head down and passed by the group surrounding Li Wuhui.

No one found her strange.

Because she was just an unremarkable disabled woman with her face muffled in a scarf.

As long as she stayed far from Li Wuhui, no one would know who she was, and no one would care what she was hiding from.

So she didn’t go far and hid under the tree shade to observe the situation.

This group wasn’t as frightening as she had imagined; they were probably just a bunch of young fans who adored Li Wuhui.

They had likely recognized Li Wuhui earlier but, seeing her enter the Tomb Garden, waited at the entrance.

When Li Wuhui came out, they mustered their courage to surround her and chattered away.

Qiu Yiran couldn’t hear the content.

But she still felt some worry—

Because not long ago, Li Wuhui had voluntarily revealed her previous marriage, and as expected, the public opinion about it hadn’t died down quickly, with no further response from Li Wuhui.

If…

If it was eventually discovered that the marriage partner was her, and at that time Li Wuhui was still in her obscure phase, how much unnecessary speculation and slander would this bring to Li Wuhui?

The more she thought about it, the more Qiu Yiran felt her heart palpitate, a sensation like her mouth and nose were muffled in leather, preventing her from calming down.

She couldn’t help but think—perhaps her thinking was still too naive.

She had thought that after going to Paris for the divorce this time, everything would end.

But she had never considered—

What they would encounter along the way, what they would face in Paris, and how many of those unknowns would harm Li Wuhui?

Qiu Yiran felt deeply uneasy.

Subconsciously—and with great pain—she glanced at the blurry silhouette of Li Wuhui in the distance, surrounded by the group.

She gritted her teeth.

While Li Wuhui wasn’t looking her way, she steeled herself, turned, and limped down the mountain in escape.

Then she anxiously got into a taxi, as if especially afraid she would regret it, and said to the driver in front,

“Please help me leave here as quickly as possible!”

–

It seemed Qiu Yiran had abandoned her again.

—Li Wuhui realized she was truly that oblivious, perhaps because she was too confident.

To the point that subconsciously, she believed Qiu Yiran would never leave her so easily.

It had been the same three years ago.

She hadn’t expected Qiu Yiran to leave so decisively, vanishing completely.

Now she used “seemed”—

Because she still found it unbelievable and felt bewildered by it.

But indeed, Qiu Yiran had vanished without a word.

When Li Wuhui parted from the group of young fans, she discovered Qiu Yiran hadn’t contacted her or told her where she was.

Li Wuhui had no choice but to call Qiu Yiran.

But the other party didn’t answer.

Hearing the long beeping tone, she merely frowned slightly, thinking Qiu Yiran just hadn’t heard the phone.

While calling, Li Wuhui dodged everyone’s sight and returned to the mountain, searching back and forth in the Tomb Garden several times.

Yet she found no trace of Qiu Yiran.

Only then did she start to feel a bit anxious. She followed the path they had taken up, went down the mountain, and saw no sign of Qiu Yiran along the way.

At the foot of the mountain, many taxis waited for passengers, the crowd was noisy, everyone accompanied by another person, but she ran around like a madwoman.

A kind person saw her searching with an anxious expression, came over holding a scarf he had just picked up, and asked if she was looking for this scarf-wearing lady, then joked—

That he had seen a scarf-wearing lady rush into a taxi, as if an evil ghost was chasing her from behind, so she dropped her scarf.

Li Wuhui took the loosened scarf, her hands trembling uncontrollably, but she calmly said thank you.

After the kind person left, she stood under the streetlamp for a long time, as if she had lost all her senses.

So she couldn’t smell the familiar scent on the scarf, nor see the embroidered pinyin letters at the bottom.

She flipped the entire scarf inside out meticulously, because she wanted to find evidence—

Proving this wasn’t her scarf.

And the lady the kind person described, rushing into the taxi as if fleeing an evil ghost—wasn’t Qiu Yiran.

But she failed.

This was her scarf.

The lady witnessed running away like an evil ghost was chasing her…

“Qiu Yiran.”

Li Wuhui uttered the name with great difficulty.

The woman walking toward her stopped in her tracks, looked up from afar through several ginkgo trees, and gazed at her soul lost.

“Li Wuhui.”

The woman in the distance called her like this, then continued walking toward her.

Li Wuhui didn’t move.

She clutched the scarf tightly in her hand, feeling as if she had suddenly come down with a fever, her eyes and nose burning painfully, barely able to breathe or see clearly who the person approaching was.

If it was Qiu Yiran, why had she suddenly gone to a place where Li Wuhui couldn’t find her?

If it was Qiu Yiran, why run away and then come back?

“I’m sorry.” When Qiu Yiran said these three words, she was utterly sincere.

Every breath was difficult, but she still forced a smile at the corner of her mouth and softly repeated,

“I’m sorry. I had clearly promised you before that I wouldn’t easily go back on my word.”

“Why didn’t you leave?” Li Wuhui asked, eyes lowered.

“Actually, just now…” Qiu Yiran let out a deep breath, admitting her weakness and unworthiness,

“I really did plan to run away.”

“Why didn’t you leave?” Li Wuhui repeated, as if those were the only words she knew now.

“Because,” probably from the wind blowing on the way over, Qiu Yiran’s nose tip was very red,

“I realized the scarf you put on me had accidentally fallen off.”

Li Wuhui stood in place, staring at her intently.

“Then I got out of the car.”

Qiu Yiran tried hard to recall what had happened in the past few minutes; she described it simply, because she found that amid so many events, she remembered very little,

“I realized my phone had frozen and shut down, I had no money on me, the driver probably thought I was strange since we’d only gone less than a hundred meters, but she kindly let me go anyway.”

“So?” Li Wuhui still hadn’t gotten the answer she wanted. “Why did you leave and then come back?”

“On the way back, I thought,” Qiu Yiran gazed into Li Wuhui’s heavy pupils, speaking word by word,

“If I stayed in Paris at that time, things like this would probably happen many times…”

Wanting to escape from your side, and hurting you again and again.

“But this time is different.” Qiu Yiran smiled.

Why different?

—Li Wuhui wanted to ask.

But seeing Qiu Yiran’s red eyes and frozen-red nose tip, she already knew the answer Qiu Yiran hadn’t voiced.

“Because we’re going for a divorce.”

Qiu Yiran said it anyway.

Even though her words came out lewdly, she couldn’t avoid it,

“So, at the very least, I have to fulfill what I promised.”

Of course she knew she was in the wrong.

Originally on the mountain, Li Wuhui had taken off her own scarf to cover her face, going alone to handle the things and people she didn’t want to face, all to protect her.

But shamefully, she had fled at such a moment.

She knew she had no face left to face Li Wuhui; the hundred-meter journey back was very short.

She hurried back at her fastest speed, hoping Li Wuhui wouldn’t discover her cowardice and selfishness.

But she was too slow.

Li Wuhui still found out.

She could only admit her unworthiness.

Whatever words or actions Li Wuhui wanted to use to hurt her equally, she would accept.

But Li Wuhui didn’t.

Li Wuhui just looked at her quietly.

For a long, long time, as if trying to understand everything she had just said.

Just this gaze alone made her feel tormented.

“Li Wuhui—” She took a step forward, wanting to say something to break the silence.

“I know.” Li Wuhui interrupted her.

Then she patiently walked up to her, her shadow covering Qiu Yiran’s shadow. The wind blew, ginkgo leaves drifting down.

That cloud-like scent enveloped her again, like a wide net wrapping Qiu Yiran up.

Her vision blurred—

With her back to the falling ginkgo leaves, Li Wuhui looked down at her, unfolded the scarf in her hand, and wrapped it around her one circle at a time.

The movements were very careful.

As if afraid her hands were too cold and would chill her.

So she kept her hands completely hidden behind the scarf, without touching her skin.

Qiu Yiran’s eyes reddened.

Li Wuhui wrapped the scarf high and thick around her neck, almost covering the lower half of her face.

“Qiu Yiran.”

After tying it, Li Wuhui withdrew her hands and stepped back to her original position.

Cold air stirred the ginkgo leaves. She slowly exhaled a ring of white breath,

“Don’t do this again next time.”

Through the thick darkness sinking to her eyelids, she looked at Qiu Yiran, her tone like a warning, also cold,

“If there’s a third time, I absolutely won’t forgive you again.”

–

She threw down these words quickly and turned away.

She walked fast, with large strides.

As if very angry, yet suppressing her temper, not wanting to vent it on her.

She didn’t wait for her.

Qiu Yiran knew this was what she deserved.

She lowered her eyes, feeling liquid drip from her eyes.

She wiped her eyes messily, feeling the scarf’s warmth surge up, wrapping her previously chilled skin.

But her eyes still stung badly.

She was clearly so angry at her, yet still willing to wrap the scarf for her.

This made Qiu Yiran feel even sadder.

She sniffled, stepped on Li Wuhui’s shadow, and followed.

But after a few steps, she saw Li Wuhui stop ahead.

“What happened?”

Qiu Yiran walked up puzzled, thinking something had occurred.

But as soon as she reached Li Wuhui’s position, she froze in place.

Because Xu Wuyi stood at the dessert shop around the corner, wearing a thick down jacket, holding two ice creams on the verge of melting.

Seeing the two of them.

Xu Wuyi seemed even more surprised than they were.

She first fixed her gaze on Li Wuhui’s face ahead, as if very surprised, and called out, “Sister Chunfeng?”

Only then did she notice Qiu Yiran standing behind Li Wuhui and froze on the spot. “Sis?”

On the first day of the lunar new year, Xu Wuyi, who had just come down from the mountain, held two ice creams.

“You… how are you two here?”

–

Xu Wuyi was Lin Manyi’s granddaughter, which made her Qiu Yiran’s cousin.

But they had grown up together since childhood, so Xu Wuyi usually just called her sis.

Later, when Qiu Yiran went abroad, they rarely met.

So Qiu Yiran’s memories of Xu Wuyi always stopped at that year when she was fourteen—

The night before she left the country, eight-year-old Xu Wuyi threw a tantrum wanting to sleep with her, crying so much in the winter that her quilt nearly froze, and the next day Xu Wuyi’s eyes swelled like walnuts.

Qiu Yiran laughed and wiped tears for walnut-eyed Xu Wuyi.

Xu Wuyi tugged her sleeve, looking pitiful, and said— Sis, remember me.

Later abroad, she often called Xu Wuyi, so Xu Wuyi knew—

Her cousin Qiu Yiran had a very beautiful model wife who was said to be a great liar, named Li Chunfeng.

Later still, when Qiu Yiran broke her leg, Xu Wuyi cried into walnuts again and told her— Sis, I believe you’ll stand up again.

The last meeting was after Lin Manyi passed away.

But too many things happened then, blurring Qiu Yiran’s memories of many events and people from that time.

The two ice creams in Xu Wuyi’s hands had already nearly melted into water. She hurriedly found a trash can and threw them away.

She quickly ran back, pulled out some tissue to wipe her hands, and blinked in disbelief.

“Really you two?”

Qiu Yiran hurriedly wiped her still-red eyes.

She didn’t know if it was because the tiny Xu Wuyi from her memories had suddenly grown so much, which moved her deeply.

Or because she had always been afraid to see Xu Wuyi, or anyone from her past.

That was why she preferred to stay in Mang City, maintaining her calm but hopeless life.

“Yes, I…” Qiu Yiran moved her throat. “We’re here to visit Auntie.”

“Did you two come together?” Xu Wuyi saw them standing side by side, her expression full of delight. “Grandma will be so happy to see you. I just went to see her, and she mentioned seeing some fresh flowers. I thought they were from her students…”

When she returned to Suzhou back then, Qiu Yiran hadn’t told anyone that she and Li Wuhui had already separated.

Everyone could sense her pain at the time, so no one really asked. They just speculated in private.

After thinking it over, Qiu Yiran felt that after so much time, she should clear up the misunderstanding for Xu Wuyi. “Actually, we—”

“We’re here on our honeymoon.” Li Wuhui cut her off.

Qiu Yiran froze.

She looked at Li Wuhui in surprise.

“Oh—” Xu Wuyi dragged out the sound in sudden realization. “That’s it! I remember you two didn’t go on a honeymoon after getting married, right? I heard you had a big fight right after the wedding.”

As she spoke, her gaze shifted between Li Wuhui and Qiu Yiran. It was clear she was genuinely happy.

Because her cousin, who had been dejected and unable to recover after the accident, was now mustering the courage to go out on a honeymoon—it seemed to her like a sign of returning to her old self.