Chapter 31

~~~

Sober.

~~~

Xu Yan reached out and took the used tissue from Chen Yi’s palm, tossing it casually into the small trash bin in the back seat.

“Why do you say that?” she asked.

Chen Yi replied, “Just a gut feeling.”

She was starting to feel sleepy. Crying took a lot out of a person, and Chen Yi had wept for so long that day. As far as she could remember, it was the first time she’d shed tears since growing up. She let out a yawn, tilted her head to look at Xu Yan, and asked curiously, “Chief Editor Xu, have you ever been in love?”

Xu Yan glanced over to make sure her seatbelt was securely fastened, checked the side mirror, activated the turn signal, released the handbrake, shifted gears, and merged back onto the dark road. The car’s audio system resumed playing Zeng Yike’s “Night Car.”

Xu Yan stayed silent for so long that Chen Yi began to wonder if she’d get an answer at all. Finally, staring straight ahead, Xu Yan spoke.

“Don’t like people? Should I like ghosts instead?”

Chen Yi rubbed her arms. “Chief Editor Xu, that’s a cold one.”

Even as she said it, a faint smile crept across her face.

Xu Yan chuckled along with her.

“Of course I have,” Xu Yan said. “Looking back now, it’s hard to say if it was a person or a ghost.”

Chen Yi frowned in confusion. “Why do you say that?”

Xu Yan explained, “In the early stages of love, when people first meet and spend time together, they desperately try to show their best sides. But over time, those hidden true colors start to emerge. Some people’s hearts are more terrifying than any demon or monster.”

Chen Yi said, “Chief Editor Xu, you’ve got a story.”

“It’s not really a story—just the past,” Xu Yan replied. “Not enough to make it memorable.”

“It sounds like it didn’t end well.”

“Mm.” Xu Yan’s fingertips tapped lightly on the steering wheel. “If you want a good relationship, the best thing is to fall in love with a good person right from the start.”

And she wasn’t a good person. She knew her polished exterior hid a body full of scars and wreckage.

Chen Yi gripped the seatbelt strap, smoothing out its wrinkles over and over. She plucked at the band, listening to the faint rustling sound it made.

“Can you decide to fall in love on your own?” Chen Yi asked.

“Of course,” Xu Yan said. “Love needs to be cultivated.”

She was firmly in the rational camp on this. She believed love grew from the people and things you invested in, worked for, and poured your heart into. Love came with conditions, which made it controllable and something you could choose.

Chen Yi had never experienced it, so she couldn’t agree with Xu Yan’s view.

She thought love was instinct—or at least, it started with some primal impulse, a gut-level pull, that led to everything else. It wasn’t something reason could dictate. It was like an animal sensing its predator or a beast spotting its prey: DNA and body reacting first.

Or perhaps—

Chen Yi remembered the question Su Dai had once asked her.

“Can you tell the difference between a crush and liking someone?”

Now it had evolved into: “Can you tell the difference between liking someone and loving them?”

Chen Yi couldn’t. All she felt was a tidal wave of emotions surging in her chest.

“Chief Editor Xu, I don’t get it,” Chen Yi admitted obediently. “I just don’t understand.”

Love was too complicated a puzzle; she almost wanted to give up on it.

“That’s okay,” Xu Yan said. “Maybe time will give you the answer.”

The words carried a hint of the arrogance that came from experience, but they were also the most honest and sincere advice.

Chen Yi blinked, then shrank back into her seat, curling up as she gazed at Xu Yan. Her eyes were hazy with the night’s drunkenness, her eyelids growing heavy until they finally drifted shut.

Xu Yan reached over and turned down the volume of the music in the car.

The lyrics were almost too perfectly timed.

“The car stopped several times / Smoked a few cigarettes / The sky’s almost light / And we still haven’t arrived.”

“Are you sleeping soundly? / I have to stay awake / This road is pretty dark / You sleep; I’ll take care of it.”

Chen Yi’s sleeping face was serene, her bare features plain yet endearingly obedient.

Xu Yan thought to herself that Chen Yi could freely indulge her feelings for strangers in her fictional worlds, letting them overflow without restraint. But she couldn’t. She was so many years older than Chen Yi, with far more scars from life. She was the one who had to stay sober.

She drove all the way to the building where Chen Yi lived without hitting a single red light. When they arrived, Xu Yan gently woke her. Chen Yi’s eyes fluttered open, and she turned to pull open the car door. Forgetting to unbuckle her seatbelt, she tumbled right back into the seat.

Xu Yan steadied her and unfastened the belt.

Chen Yi murmured a thank you.

“Don’t move,” Xu Yan said. She got out, circled around to the other side, opened the door, and helped Chen Yi out of the car.

“Chief Editor Xu, my place is on the seventeenth floor,” Chen Yi said. “Seventeenth floor, okay?”

“Got it,” Xu Yan replied.

“The code is 3233.”

“I just changed it recently!”

“Do you know why it’s 3233? Hehe, it’s Fade—oh, Fade. The numbers on the keypad. Do you know Fade?” Chen Yi chattered on nonstop. “She’s this sister I’ve kinda liked lately. But she doesn’t like me back.”

Xu Yan half-wished she could sew the girl’s mouth shut.

Fortunately, the building’s elevator was quick. They reached the seventeenth floor, and Xu Yan punched in the code. Without bothering to turn on the lights, she guided Chen Yi to the sofa.

“Lie down properly,” Xu Yan said, finally exhaling in relief.

She turned to fetch a pair of slippers but froze when she glanced back.

“…”

Chen Nanyun had turned on the light and was standing in the living room.

Their eyes met.

Xu Yan spoke first. “General Manager Chen.”

Chen Nanyun, far less stern than she was at work, smiled. “Xiao Xu, what’s going on here?”

Xu Yan explained, “There was a work event today, and Chen Yi had a bit too much to drink.”

It sounded like the perfect excuse.

Except—

“Woo woo, why doesn’t she like me?” Chen Yi rolled over on the sofa and started whimpering. “Chief Editor Xu, why doesn’t she like me?”

Chen Nanyun raised an eyebrow. “A work event?”

Xu Yan: “…”

“It was Designer Zhou’s celebration party for Zhouyu,” Xu Yan said. Technically true, even if there had only been four people there.

“All right, all right—you’ve had a rough night,” Chen Nanyun said, eyeing Xu Yan’s disheveled state. “Want some water? I’ll pour you a glass.”

Xu Yan waved her off. “No need, General Manager Chen.”

“Since you’re here, I’ll head out. Please take care of Chen Yi.”

“Wait,” Chen Nanyun said.

She picked up a souvenir from Chen Yi’s table—the one from Teacher Leng’s birthday party last time—and handed it to Xu Yan. “Here, take this.”

Xu Yan hesitated. “But…”

“Oh, don’t worry—Little Yi has plenty more.”

Chen Nanyun smiled at Xu Yan, then stepped forward and crouched beside Chen Yi. She poked her daughter’s cheek. “You silly girl. Last time I asked if you liked someone, you wouldn’t admit it. Look at you now.”

Chen Yi blinked blearily at the sight of her mother, looking utterly confused.

“Nanyun-jie, what are you doing here?” she mumbled, her words all jumbled.

Chen Nanyun felt a pang of heartache mixed with exasperation, a tangle of emotions that finally dissolved into laughter. “Who else? Your dad. He watches your streams every day and told me you seemed off, so I figured I’d drop by when I had some time. Look at you—what kind of woman has got my girl all muddled like this?”

“Get up now. Go to the door and take off your shoes.”

Chen Nanyun helped Chen Yi to her feet and noticed Xu Yan still rooted to the spot.

“Xiao Xu?”

Xu Yan snapped out of it and hurried over to help. Once Chen Yi had finished fumbling with her shoes, Xu Yan took the souvenir from Chen Nanyun and left.

The door clicked shut, leaving Xu Yan in a daze.

She rode down in the elevator without a word. Back in the car, she placed the souvenir on the passenger seat.

The interior still carried a faint whiff of alcohol and milk. The spill on the passenger side had half-dried, leaving blotchy marks on the leather upholstery.

Xu Yan glanced at the souvenir.

Suddenly, she realized she’d made a grave mistake.

Not every parent was like hers.

That day, when she’d learned Chen Yi’s mother was Chen Nanyun—and seen them laughing and playing at the venue—the flicker of courage she’d mustered had instantly faded. She’d told herself she was backing off to protect Chen Yi from the risk of coming out to her family, from the potential fracture that would follow if things progressed with Fade.

Instinctively, she hadn’t wanted Chen Yi to face that kind of family rift. She’d wanted her to stay as free and radiant as she’d been when she’d first burst into Xu Yan’s life years ago.

And she’d seen firsthand how truly happy she was.

Over the years, she’d glimpsed it in the little details on social media.

But now…

Xu Yan gave a self-deprecating smile.

Who was she kidding? She wasn’t worried about Chen Yi at all. She was the one who was scared. The shadows of her own past clung to her relentlessly: the ruptures, the curses and beatings, the friends who fled and betrayed her, the resentment and hatred from her own family that lingered even until death.

How laughable. These past couple of days, she’d lectured herself over and over to stay calm, to be rational. And yet? Her so-called judgment had been entirely emotional, buried deep in her subconscious in a way she hadn’t noticed, silently pulling her strings while she convinced herself it was all logical reasoning.

What logic?

If Chen Yi liked girls, even if they didn’t end up together, there would still be the risk of her coming out someday. What’s more, if Chen Yi truly reached the same crossroads she had faced back then, she herself wouldn’t be the same person anymore—nor would the one by her side. She was more than capable of staying at Chen Yi’s side, facing it together with her, and having her back. She couldn’t presume to make choices for Chen Yi on her own.

In an instant, Xu Yan understood everything. In that same instant, she realized just how foolish her decision from two days ago had been.

She thought for a long time.

So long that the darkness of the parking garage threatened to swallow her whole.

Finally, she pulled out her phone, opened her chat with Chen Yi, and sent a message.

【Sorry,】 she wrote. 【Can we talk?】

Xu Yan felt a powerful urge to just lay everything bare, to bring it all into the light. It had been years since she’d felt anything like it.

The next second, a WeChat notification popped up.

(The other party has friend verification enabled. You are not yet their friend. Please send a friend verification request first; you can only chat after they approve.)

Xu Yan froze for a moment, clutching her phone as a bitter smile curved her lips. Her fingertips hovered over the add friend screen for what felt like ages, but in the end, she stopped. She switched apps and opened Miracle instead.

She had never been good at expressing her emotions—otherwise, Chen Yi wouldn’t spend every day wondering if her boss, the Female Demon Head, secretly hated her.

All she could do was fall back on the most clumsy approach.

Xu Yan made up her mind.