Yue Bai felt her heartbeat quicken. That afternoon, she had asked Wang Yi to cover for her before taking a cab to the main gate of B University. A quick search on the map led her straight to the only café in the area.
When her palm touched the metal door frame, Yue Bai paused for a moment. She peered through the transparent glass and saw a few scattered patrons inside.
With a firm push from her palm, she opened the door and stepped inside with her long legs.
She scanned the table numbers until her eyes landed on Table 3. A girl with long hair cascading over her shoulders sat with her back to Yue Bai. A few strands of dyed hair gleamed pinkish-purple under the bright yellow lights.
Yue Bai took a deep breath. The closer she got to the girl, the faster her heart pounded.
The pull of finally uncovering the truth drove her forward, step by step.
The girl, who had been staring down at her phone, seemed to sense someone approaching from behind. She turned off the screen and twisted her body sideways.
A touch of worry clouded her delicate, lovely features.
Upon seeing Yue Bai, the girl nodded slightly. “Are you the one looking for Li Yi?”
Yue Bai nodded.
The girl studied her for a moment. “Sit.”
Yue Bai took a seat. Before long, a server brought over two cups of coffee.
Yue Bai had no interest in drinking hers and pushed it aside.
Noticing this, the girl tapped her phone screen with a fingertip. The display lit up with a glow, and she glanced at the message there.
The worry on her face deepened.
“You’ve come to ask about Li Yi and Sang Wan, haven’t you?” the girl said bluntly.
“Yes,” Yue Bai replied gravely.
“Li Yi couldn’t make it, but I can answer your questions for her,” the girl said.
“You know about it?” Yue Bai asked.
The girl nodded, a hint of incomprehension in her eyes. Why would anyone still cling to something from so long ago? Her gaze drifted downward, her pupils flickering. “It’s been ten years. Why dwell on it? Wouldn’t it be better to let it go?”
A wry smile tugged at Yue Bai’s lips. “Ten years have passed, but the damage it caused is still there. Why not resolve it?”
“Damage?” the girl murmured to herself. A flash of pain crossed her eyes, and she lowered her head to cradle her coffee, hiding the fleeting expression.
“She’s suffered from it too, you know. A careless lie from her childhood still torments her to this day.” The girl took a self-deprecating sip of her coffee, a thin layer of foam clinging to her lips before melting away seconds later.
“What do you want to ask?” the girl inquired.
“Did Senior Sister push Li Yi back then?” Yue Bai’s sharp gaze fixed directly on the girl’s face.
“Senior Sister? You’re Sang Wan’s junior sister?” The girl looked puzzled. She shook her head. “No. Li Yi slipped and fell into the water herself.”
“Then why did she claim Senior Sister pushed her?” Yue Bai cut straight to the point.
She desperately wanted to understand why Li Yi had framed Senior Sister all those years ago.
The girl’s eyes grew distant for a moment. She gazed toward the space behind Yue Bai, her stare deep and haunted, as if peering through the wall to witness the events of the past.
“Li Yi was only nine or ten back then. The terror of nearly drowning and the fear of her family’s scolding drove her to pin the blame on Sang Wan,” the girl explained slowly.
Yue Bai pressed her tongue against her upper teeth, her fists clenching tightly on her lap. So, just because she was afraid of getting scolded, it was fine to shift the blame onto someone else?
Yue Bai found it absurd. Age should never serve as a shield for wrongdoing.
“Nine or ten?” Yue Bai let out a cold laugh. “Senior Sister was only about ten herself back then. Li Yi was scared, but did she ever stop to think how terrified Senior Sister must have been?”
Even in the quiet café, Yue Bai’s deliberately subdued voice carried the weight of her seething anger.
The girl pressed her lips together. She had anticipated this reaction and let out a soft sigh. “That’s why I’m here—to apologize on Li Yi’s behalf.”
“An apology? As if that’s enough! How do you compensate for the trauma Senior Sister endured as a child? Because of one flippant accusation, she’s carried that stigma for ten years.” Yue Bai’s body trembled with fury.
She knew she shouldn’t let her anger take over; she had come only for answers. No amount of rage could change the past. Yet she couldn’t hold it back.
The thought of Li Yi’s offhand remark still causing Senior Sister to break down even in her sleep filled Yue Bai with uncontrollable anger and heartache.
“I’m sorry,” the girl said sincerely. “This must have hurt your Senior Sister deeply, but Li Yi hasn’t had it easy these years either. She’s regretted those words ever since. When she tried to apologize to Sang Wan, she’d already gone abroad.”
“She attempted to reach out, but Sang Wan refused to communicate. All these years, Li Yi has relived the incident over and over, tormenting herself to the point of developing severe insomnia and anxiety.”
“A few days ago, when Luo Mian visited her in the hospital, her emotions were still unstable, so I didn’t tell her about this. But while bedridden, she’s confessed it all to me time and again—apologizing to Sang Wan repeatedly.”
“I can’t beg Sang Wan to forgive her, but please, don’t provoke her right now. Wait until she’s more stable, and I’ll have her meet you in person. Is that okay?” By the end, the girl’s voice carried a pleading tone.
Yue Bai fell silent, her eyes fixed on the coffee cup. The latte art formed a heart shape, bisected by a thin white line running through the center.
The girl licked her upper lip and unlocked her phone. She opened a video and handed it to Yue Bai.
“This is a video Li Yi recorded for Sang Wan when she was feeling more stable—an apology she’s always wanted to send but never had the chance. If you could pass along Li Yi’s regrets to her…” The girl played the video.
Yue Bai’s gaze dropped to the screen.
The footage had been shot in a courtyard under perfect sunlight, filtering through the tree leaves to dapple the figure standing before them.
The person in the video sat in a chair, her face deathly pale from illness. Her thin frame seemed swallowed by her clothes, which hung awkwardly despite being tailored to fit.
“Sang Wan, hello. This is Li Yi.” The woman in the video forced a smile, her eyes brimming with endless sorrow as she faced the camera. “I’m so sorry. That year by the riverbank, when my parents asked what happened, I lied. For countless days afterward, I lived in terror and torment, my conscience tearing me apart.”
“As a child, I was too scared to own up to what I’d done. I just kept running from it. I apologize for my cowardice and weakness back then.” Li Yi’s words were clear and deliberate.
A gentle breeze stirred, and Li Yi coughed a few times. She covered her mouth, pausing to catch her breath. “I’m truly sorry. I hope one day you’ll receive this message. I don’t ask for your forgiveness—just that you find happiness in the years ahead.”
The video cut off abruptly. In just a few short sentences, it was almost entirely an apology.
Yue Bai’s eyelids twitched. She stared in silence at the now-darkened phone screen.
The girl across from her waited patiently for a response.
After a long while, the steam rising from the coffee had dissipated, veiling Yue Bai’s face in a hazy mist.
Watching the video left her feeling both ridiculous and tragic.
A single sentence had inflicted such different wounds on two people. For the moment, Yue Bai didn’t know what to say. The black screen reflected her bewildered expression.
She said nothing, and neither did the girl opposite her.
The two sat in a tense standoff.
Some time later, the phone screen lit up with a new message.
Yue Bai stared at it blankly. She couldn’t make out the details, only that a notification had arrived.
The girl reached for her own phone, checked it, and set it down.
“So?” Yue Bai forced a laugh, unsure of the emotion behind it. “Is that the whole story?”
The girl pressed her lips together. “I’m very sorry.”
She was still apologizing.
Yue Bai didn’t want to hear any more. Gazing at the sickly figure in the video, she couldn’t bring herself to lash out further.
It had been nothing more than a child’s impulsive words. No one could have foreseen the consequences.
“That’s it, then.” Yue Bai rose to her feet and glanced at the time.
Her main reason for coming was to learn why that person had framed Senior Sister. Now that she knew, her heart felt hollow.
It was like punching a mound of cotton—powerless and futile, the emptiness spreading through her.
She hurried out of the café and leaned against the brightly painted wall. Her throat burned, and she doubled over in dry heaves.
Sobs mingled with her tears.
The girl followed her out and watched from a few meters away as Yue Bai hunched over, concern etching her delicate features.
She stepped forward to steady her, but Yue Bai shoved her arm away violently. “Don’t touch me!”
Yue Bai shouted the words.
A few passersby on the quiet street turned to stare curiously.
The girl released her hold. “Are you okay?”
Yue Bai clutched her chest. She felt so useless. She could have demanded that Li Yi face her directly, apologize to Senior Sister in person, and beg for forgiveness.
But seeing someone so frail and ill had softened her resolve.
Why did it have to be like this? Pain wracked her as she braced against the wall, her stomach churning in knots.
All her emotions came crashing over her at once.
The girl’s hand hovered uncertainly in the air, wanting to comfort her but afraid to try.
“I’m really sorry,” the girl said again.
“Stop it.” After a prolonged silence, Yue Bai lowered her eyes. “There’s no point telling me.”
She turned her face away. “Once Li Yi has recovered, have her speak to Senior Sister herself.”
The girl caught the deeper meaning in her words. “I’ll pass that on to Li Yi. Thank you.”
On the cab ride back to the hotel, Yue Bai stared out the window at the scenery rushing by in reverse. Her mind replayed the faces of Li Yi and Sang Wan, swapping back and forth.
In the end, it settled completely on Sang Wan’s features.
She missed Senior Sister.
Pulling out her phone, she opened her chat with Sang Wan.
“Senior Sister, just two more days until I come back,” Yue Bai typed.
“I miss you so much. I want a hug from Senior Sister.” Yue Bai.
The car pulled up alongside the hotel, and Yue Bai got out.
The phone screen was blank.
No message from Sang Wan.
Senior Sister must be busy, Yue Bai thought.
She entered through the side door and headed into the hotel without taking the elevator. Her room was on the third floor, and the stairs wouldn’t take long.
She stood at the door of the room she shared with Wang Yi and rang the doorbell.
A few seconds later, the door cracked open just a sliver from the inside.
Yue Bai assumed Wang Yi had just been in the shower and couldn’t open it fully right away. She waited at the door for a moment, estimating the time it would take Wang Yi to get dressed, before stepping inside.
The entryway light was on dimly, but all the other lights were off.
Yue Bai peered curiously inside but saw no one.
Where had Wang Yi gone?
She reached out and flipped the switch. In the next instant, she was pulled into a warm embrace.
As she instinctively raised her hands to push away, a familiar warm fragrance filled her nostrils.
The faint, sweet scent wrapped around her, and she felt the soft touch against her. Yue Bai’s mind raced, and she dropped her resistance, wrapping her arms around the person in front of her. “Senior Sister…”
“How did you get here?” Yue Bai nuzzled against Sang Wan’s chest, her eyes full of longing.
“I didn’t have class this afternoon, and tomorrow’s the weekend. Didn’t someone say they missed me? So I came.” Sang Wan smiled.
“But it’s only been half an hour since I messaged you. Did you sprout wings and fly?” Yue Bai tilted her little head up.
“Silly, I missed you too.”
