~~~
Chen Yi rode home in the driver’s car, scarfed down a meal at home, and was promptly dragged off by her mom to a private studio for a makeover.
Sitting in front of a massive mirror, Chen Yi felt like a doll, letting the stylist toy with her hair. Her mom stood nearby, her gaze sweeping over a pile of evening gowns.
“None of these will do,” Chen Nanyun said with a frown. “They’re not right for Little Yi.”
This was already the third time Chen Yi had heard her mom say that since they arrived at the studio.
“Mom, why don’t we just pick one at random?”
“You’re really that indifferent?”
Chen Yi shot back righteously, “Duh!”
“Today is Grandma Leng’s birthday, not mine. Why should I dress up?”
“You—fine, whatever. Talking to you is pointless anyway.” Chen Nanyun looked displeased.
Chen Yi grinned. “Mom, admit it. You just want to dress me up.”
Her mom had loved doing this since Chen Yi was little—buying her all sorts of clothes and styling her in different looks. Chen Yi had always been the perfect rack for clothes: tall and slender. Back in the day, Chen Nanyun had figured her daughter would become a model. Instead, she grew up to be a total shut-in. Oh well, as long as she was happy. That didn’t stop Chen Nanyun from enjoying dressing her up. It was one of the perks of having a daughter!
As a kid, Chen Yi hadn’t minded, wearing whatever was handed to her. But once she hit elementary school and developed her own sense of style, the rebellion started.
Chen Yi preferred simple, loose clothes—like those foolproof basics from Uniqlo.
Chen Nanyun was the opposite. She loved trendy pieces with real design flair.
Called out by her daughter, Chen Nanyun huffed and glanced at the mirror. “So, are you willing or not?”
“Fine, fine, whatever you say.” Chen Yi didn’t mind humoring her mom every now and then.
Pleased, Chen Nanyun smiled and went back to browsing the clothes.
“This one,” she said, eyes lighting up as she made her choice.
Chen Yi spent two or three hours getting dolled up in the studio. She had walked in as a college girl in a hoodie, sweatpants, and a messy ponytail. Now she stepped out in a Saint Laurent strapless utility jumpsuit in khaki green. A Dior blazer draped over her shoulders, revealing the clean lines of her collarbone. Her black hair was slicked back neatly, with a pair of asymmetrical metal earrings dangling by her ears.
At first glance, she had a supermodel vibe.
But the moment Chen Yi opened her mouth, the whole effect shattered.
“Mom, can’t I just wear this blazer properly?” she grumbled. “Does it have to be draped like this?”
Chen Nanyun replied, “That’s fashion.”
Chen Yi figured she’d never understand fashion. Her only requirements for clothes were comfort and warmth. Styling? Not her thing.
“Just bear with it. I only make you dress up a few times a year. Not too much to ask, right?” Chen Nanyun coaxed.
Chen Yi shook her head. “Nope, not at all.”
“Make sure to greet Grandma Leng properly when we see her.”
“Mom, I’m not a three-year-old!”
Chen Nanyun turned and smiled at her. Her daughter had grown into a fine young woman—cozy and unassuming without makeup, like a peaceful forest; striking and remote with it, like a winter wilderness. Time had flown. Chen Nanyun still remembered her as a tiny tot chasing after her, calling “Mama.” Now Chen Yi was on the cusp of independence, the point where a mother had to let go. A pang hit Chen Nanyun’s nose; she faked a cough, covering her face with her hand.
~~~
Leng Yuanzhi was a venerable elder in the entertainment industry. Her birthday party wasn’t extravagant, but the guests were all prominent figures. As close acquaintances, Chen Yi and Chen Nanyun slipped backstage early to pay their respects.
“Grandma Leng!”
Leng Yuanzhi smiled warmly. “Little Yi, come here. Let Grandma get a good look at you.”
“You’re stunning,” Leng Yuanzhi praised. “Our Little Yi could give those young actresses a run for their money.”
Chen Yi laughed. “Grandma, don’t hype me up too much, or my head will swell.”
Leng Yuanzhi chuckled. “All right, all right. Where’s your grandma?”
Leng Yuanzhi and Chen Yi’s maternal grandma were old besties, which was how Chen Yi had known her since childhood.
“My grandma insisted on baking you a cake herself, even though she can’t cook to save her life. She’s still messing around in some cake studio right now.”
Leng Yuanzhi said, “With her cooking skills, I doubt she’ll make it in time today. I’ll give her a call. You two sit tight and have fun.”
Chen Yi agreed.
The banquet hadn’t started yet, so with nothing else to do, Chen Yi plopped down in Grandma Leng’s lounge suite and fired up a game.
Fade wasn’t online—probably busy with something.
But A Smile Captures the City was.
She spotted Chen Yi and messaged first, asking if she wanted to run a dungeon together.
Chen Yi said sure.
Sister Don’t Hit Me: But I’m out right now, so no voice chat.
“No worries, Vegetable Sister. I can do voice.”
Sister Don’t Hit Me: …
Hearing that nickname from her little niece made her inexplicably nervous.
Sister Don’t Hit Me: Your little aunt’s not home, so you can do voice?
“!”
“Vegetable Sister, you called it!”
Sister Don’t Hit Me: Sneaking a game session?
“Aah! Don’t tell my little aunt!”
“Vegetable Sister, how do you know everything?”
How could Chen Yi not know? Little nieces that age acted exactly the same when sneaking games behind their parents’ backs.
Good thing Miracle didn’t show precise last-online times for friends, or Fade would have caught her niece red-handed.
“Just playing for a bit,” the little niece said. “School’s exhausting, and I’m bored at home alone.”
Sister Don’t Hit Me: Where’s your little aunt?
Little niece: “Out having fun.”
“Vegetable Sister, it’s always my little aunt with you.”
Chen Yi’s face flushed a little. She didn’t pry further and just helped the little niece finish the dungeon.
For Xu Yixiao, this was the best dungeon run she’d had since starting the game. Without Fade around and her alt fully exposed, Chen Yi didn’t hold back at all. She shredded the mobs and bosses left and right. Even on an alt, she had them begging for mercy.
Xu Yixiao felt amazing, totally hooked. “Vegetable Sister, when can I score a carry from your main? A friend slot would be the cherry on top.”
Sister Don’t Hit Me: No problem.
Xu Yixiao let out a squeal.
“Vegetable Sister, you’re the best. We have to be game family someday.”
Chen Yi’s eyes curved in a smile, her ears turning pink.
“You’ve got a crush,” her mom’s voice came suddenly from beside her. Chen Yi quickly locked her screen, schooled her expression, and looked up at Chen Nanyun.
Chen Nanyun: “Your girlfriend?”
Chen Yi: “Nah, just a little sister.”
Chen Nanyun: “What kind of little sister makes you smile like that?”
Chen Yi was speechless. “Mom, I know you’re dying for me to date, but come on… don’t get desperate for grandkids? She’s just a middle schooler. Dating her would be illegal.”
Chen Nanyun watched her daughter fluster with leisurely amusement.
“I didn’t say anything.” Chen Nanyun smiled suddenly. “Got someone you like? Related to this little sister?”
“Mom!”
“Okay, okay, I won’t ask. Hit me up when you’re ready to spill.” Chen Nanyun waved it off and glanced at her phone. “Oh, right—I invited your magazine’s editor-in-chief today. She just texted that she arrived, but now she’s vanished again. Go find her?”
Chen Yi: “…”
“Mom, who did you invite again?”
“Your editor-in-chief, Xu Yan. You don’t know her? I heard you’re gunning for her assistant spot. Weren’t you out on assignment with her the other day?”
“How do you know everything!”
Chen Nanyun’s lips curved. “What, you think I’m just your mom? I’m your biggest boss too.”
“Go check where Xu Yan wandered off to. Maybe she got lost.”
Chen Yi hesitated. “Mom, why don’t you send someone else?”
“Why?”
“If I go, won’t that blow my cover? With our bet, didn’t you say no proactively revealing my identity to anyone?”
Chen Nanyun remembered. “Fair enough. I’ll have someone look for her. You stay put.”
Chen Yi agreed.
Personally, she had no desire to reveal her identity to coworkers, let alone her boss. Once that cat was out of the bag, things at work would never be the same. She didn’t care, but others might. Chen Yi hated unnecessary drama. Her day job was tedious enough without adding office politics.
She settled in comfortably, checked her phone—A Smile Captures the City had logged off. Chen Yi quit the game too, pocketed her phone, and glanced around.
The room had a balcony outside, where a plump, round orange cat lounged. It was a rare long-haired variety, probably pampered by the hotel staff—its fur sleek and glossy.
Intrigued, Chen Yi walked over.
As she approached, the orange cat let out a meow. It had the face of a beauty but a raspy voice like a broken gong, sounding almost like it was crying.
Chen Yi laughed, recorded a quick video, and sent it to Fade.
Chen Yi: Master~~, look at this kitty I ran into today~
No reply from Fade.
Chen Yi assumed she was busy.
A bit later, Chen Nanyun returned.
Chen Yi peeked behind her—no Xu Yan. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was about to say that if Xu Yan showed up, she’d slip out first.
“Chief Editor Xu had something come up and had to leave early. She asked someone to bring a gift to Grandma Leng for you.”
Chen Yi blinked, feeling like God was lending her a hand.
Once the banquet got underway, Chen Yi made a beeline for the food. Whenever she spotted a particularly unique dish, she snapped a photo and sent it to Fade.
That night, when she finally got home and checked her phone, Chen Yi realized she had fired off nearly ten messages to Fade over the course of the afternoon.
Would Fade think she was annoying? Too talkative?
Chen Yi waited a little while, but there was still no reply from the other side. She logged into the game, intending to check in with her little niece, only to find that her niece wasn’t online either.
Had she been working so hard that exhaustion made her forget to respond?
The next morning, Chen Yi woke up to the same dead-silent chat window.
She finally confronted the unease that had been gnawing at her since yesterday.
Maybe Fade wasn’t just busy. Maybe she was ignoring her on purpose.
Why?
Had she said something wrong? Done something wrong? Chen Yi spent the entire morning lost in distracted thoughts on the matter, racking her brain but coming up with no answers. For no reason at all, she felt like crying, her chest tight and stuffy. This sudden, plunging cutoff felt utterly alienating to her. She picked up the phone and called Su Dai for advice.
Su Dai didn’t mince words. “What the hell?!”
“Fade?! I’ll kick her ass into next week!”
“She’s straight-up giving you the silent treatment.”
Chen Yi mumbled, “Maybe she really was busy and just forgot.”
Su Dai snorted. “Who in this day and age doesn’t check their phone every five minutes? Too busy to send even a single word back? Does she think she’s the damn UN president or something?”
Chen Yi corrected her mildly. “First off, the UN doesn’t have a president.”
Su Dai paused. “…”
“You’re totally caping for her right now, aren’t you?” Su Dai said, getting heated.
Chen Yi shook her head, even though Su Dai couldn’t see it. “No.”
“I just don’t think Fade’s the type.”
Su Dai let out a mocking laugh.
“Chen Yi, how long have you even known her? Do you know her real name? Have you ever met her in person? It takes decades to truly see through someone—twenty or thirty years, at least—and you think a couple weeks chatting online means you’ve got her figured out? What exactly do you know about her? Chen Yi, you’re gonna give me a heart attack. The way you are, if some scammer runs a pig-butchering scheme on you, your whole family’s savings will be wiped out. Aah! Dummy, stop crying. Stay put at home. I’ll grab McDonald’s on my way over.”
Chen Yi sniffled, her voice thick and nasal as she agreed.
“I want the Filet-O-Fish,” she said. “And spicy chicken wings, a McNuggets four-piece, crispy fried chicken too—I’ll take the leg.”
Su Dai groaned. “I’m seriously starting to think you’re just playing the pity card to scam some free food and drinks.”
Chen Yi managed a bitter smile. “Nah, I’m just feeling down. I want to eat something.”
Her chest was clogged with too many emotions, her mind a whirlwind of tangled thoughts. It was impossible to sort through the mess. She felt like she was lost in a thick fog, with no direction, no path forward. Somehow, only by chewing, by swallowing food, could she find a sliver of relief.
This all-encompassing gray haze was a first in Chen Yi’s life.
If mere liking could inflict this kind of pain—tying all her emotions to the other person’s every move, leaving her breathless…
Chen Yi was starting to get scared.
