Chapter 44

◎Chen Yi, you’re pathetic.◎

Chen Yi didn’t know how she made it out of that coffee shop alive. From the moment she heard Xu Yan’s words, her body had gone completely out of her control, propelled forward by nothing but a primal urge to escape down the stairs. Maybe her face was too solemn, frozen in a stillness bordering on insanity, because the front desk attendant asked if she was all right with genuine concern. Chen Yi wanted to muster a polite smile, but her lips simply wouldn’t move.

A torrent of emotions pressed against them.

She stepped out into an overcast sky, the awnings now deserted where people had once lingered over their coffee. Empty tables and chairs dotted the grass. At the shop’s corner sat several cardboard boxes, filled with what looked like the store’s temporarily discarded junk.

Chen Yi walked toward them.

Plop—

The flowers hit the ground and shattered.

The elegantly wrapped perfume gift box tumbled from the bag. Glass shattered with a sharp crack, releasing a cloud of fragrance as water seeped across the soggy cardboard.

Chen Yi stared at the mess, her face blank. After standing there a moment, she glanced back toward the coffee shop.

The instant she realized what she was doing, a mocking smile twisted her lips.

What was she still hoping for?

That Xu Yan would come chasing after her?

Chen Yi, haven’t you been fooled enough already?

She spun on her heel and wandered aimlessly along the path. She had no idea where to go and no desire to go anywhere. She just wanted to keep walking in this quiet numbness.

The farther she went, the more questions flickered unresolved in her mind.

No wonder she’d felt their romance had ignited too abruptly… Had her intuition been trying to save her all along?

And why had Xu Yan done it?

Lying to her, hiding things—what was the point?

Money? Sex? No, that didn’t fit. Xu Yan had plenty of both. If it was just to toy with her… fine, she’d succeeded. But was Xu Yan really that bored? That petty? That desperate for amusement?

Chen Yi had no answers.

Her hand rested in her pocket, fingertips brushing the phone’s cool metal shell. It buzzed several times, but she ignored it. She assumed it was Xu Yan and had zero interest in answering.

She replayed every moment spent with Xu Yan, every moment with Fade. It all felt fractured, bewildering. How could Xu Yan possibly explain it? Multiple personalities? Short of that, Chen Yi wouldn’t buy any excuse.

The phone kept vibrating relentlessly.

Finally, she fished it out and answered without checking the screen.

“What do you have to say?” Her voice came out frigid.

“Ah—” Yu You’an sounded utterly bewildered on the other end. “Oh, uh, did I interrupt your date?”

Chen Yi pressed her lips together, realizing her error. It wasn’t Xu Yan. Her tone softened as she tried to sound normal. “No. What’s wrong?”

“I just saw on TV there’s a heavy rain warning coming up. Figured I’d give you a heads-up in case you missed it. Grab an umbrella on your way, so neither of you gets soaked. Wait—you’ve already met up?”

Chen Yi: “Yeah.”

Yu You’an: “How’d it go?”

Chen Yi had no strength left to talk.

She wasn’t a good enough actress to bury all those feelings. With a soft sigh, she said, “You’an, I’ll fill you in later, okay?”

Yu You’an agreed at once. Sensing something was wrong, she added a few words about staying safe and reminded her that no matter what happened, she had a friend in her corner.

Chen Yi murmured her assent.

The call ended.

She pulled up the recent calls. Not a single one from Xu Yan.

A gust of cold wind hit her then, hollowing her out further. The sky hung oppressively black, and the shops around her hurried to haul in their outdoor displays.

The downpour was imminent.

Chen Yi drifted along like a corpse, until one last thread of reason tugged her into a convenience store. She bought an umbrella. She had to look after herself. She’d already weathered one storm courtesy of Xu Yan—no sense inviting a literal drenching.

By the time she stepped back outside, the rain hammered down. Water streamed in steady rivulets from the edge of her umbrella.

Onlookers ambled through the wet streets without a hint of haste, almost savoring the rain.

Chen Yi wandered on, adrift with nowhere to go.

The hotel was out of the question. Returning meant facing Yu You’an and explaining herself—but how could she, when she didn’t even understand? Yet without the hotel, where? Where would Xu Yan go?

That name sparked in her mind, sending a sharp twinge through her nerves.

She ordered herself to stop thinking about Xu Yan.

Her brain had other ideas.

Her mind was a still lake, and those wild, uncontrolled emotions and thoughts were pebbles dropping in one by one. Each one sent ripples across the surface, shattering her calm. She reached out to still them, but her hand only disturbed the water more, the waves growing larger with every concentric ring.

Xu Yan’s name had taken root in her thoughts.

It was raining now.

Did Xu Yan have an umbrella?

Would she get soaked?

Did she actually like her? Why pull something like this? Two tiny figures split off inside her: a naive angel on one shoulder, a sharp-eyed devil on the other.

The angel piped up first. “She definitely likes you. Why else would she act this way? Be honest—from the day you met until now, Fade’s been nothing but good to you, except for that vanishing act.”

The devil cut in sharply. “Wasn’t the vanishing act bad enough? And think about how Xu Yan’s been playing it these days—like she has no clue about what went down online between you two. How do you know she wasn’t faking it in the game, too?”

The angel hesitated. “But what if—”

The devil scoffed. “What if? The world isn’t full of what ifs, Chen Yi. Remember two weeks ago, during the blackout by the river? What did Xu Yan say? She’s got a crush—someone she’s been pining for forever! She was heartbroken over her ex-girlfriend!”

“And what about you?”

“Did she even blink today?”

Chen Yi halted abruptly in the middle of the street.

She was right.

Xu Yan had a crush.

So what was their online fling? A way to kill time? Some melodramatic stand-in role?

Chen Yi bit her lip until it hurt. A fierce urge boiled up in her chest: she had to confront Xu Yan.

No more poise. No more restraint. No more silence.

She needed answers.

She was a young woman who’d been played by her boss at work—what was wrong with losing it a little? She hadn’t blown the company sky-high. That was practically saintly!

Oh, right—though the company was her family’s.

Clutching that fire, Chen Yi whipped around and marched back toward the coffee shop. Her Martin boots slapped against the stone pavement, splashing water up her pant legs until they were soaked. She didn’t care.

With every step, she reminded herself: she was going back for answers. To have it out with Xu Yan. Absolutely not because she was worried about her getting drenched.

Why should she run?

She wasn’t the one in the wrong.

She should’ve flung those roses right in Xu Yan’s face, smashed the perfume at her feet, and torn into her properly—shown that the innocent college girl wasn’t such an easy mark.

Didn’t everyone say modern college students were wildcards? Hit ’em hard, and they hit back harder?

Chen Yi set her jaw, her steps growing surer.

But as she rounded the corner to the coffee shop, she caught sight of a distant figure—and every ounce of her resolve crumbled into chaos.

Xu Yan stood out in the rain, her back to Chen Yi, approaching a homeless man clutching the roses Chen Yi had discarded. Neither held an umbrella; they were both utterly drenched. Xu Yan’s long hair clung soddenly to her body, rain trailing down the strands.

Chen Yi was too far to make out her words. She watched as Xu Yan unpinned the blue sapphire brooch from her chest and traded it for the battered bouquet.

Then Xu Yan turned around.

Instinctively, Chen Yi ducked behind a red phone booth.

She peered out cautiously.

Xu Yan cradled the filthy flowers, dirt already smudging her clothes. She headed straight for the spot where Chen Yi had dropped the perfume, rummaging through the sodden cardboard debris for the scattered remnants of the bag.

Chen Yi couldn’t make sense of it.

She couldn’t hold herself back any longer. Stepping forward, she angled her umbrella over Xu Yan’s head, leaving her own back exposed to the rain.

Xu Yan sensed the presence and looked up.

The downpour had ruined her flawless makeup, her long mascaraed lashes smudged into dark streaks. She looked far from her usual polished beauty, but Chen Yi’s heart clenched anyway.

In that split second, she caught a flicker of panic and evasion in Xu Yan’s normally composed eyes. Xu Yan instinctively turned her head away.

Chen Yi smiled.

There was a hint of triumphant glee in it—the discovery that Xu Yan could be rattled by her after all. But mostly, it was the helpless frustration of anger. Why wouldn’t Xu Yan just speak up? Where was the explanation? Why no chase? No phone call? What was the point of braving the storm to salvage shattered perfume and ruined roses?

Was Xu Yan really that oblivious?

They stood there like performers in a silent mime, neither uttering a word.

Passersby cast curious glances their way.

After a moment, Chen Yi asked, “Are you crying?”

Xu Yan opened her mouth to say no, but her voice trembled. She couldn’t force out another syllable, merely shaking her head.

“What are you thinking right now?” Chen Yi pressed.

Xu Yan said nothing, fixated instead on picking at the shards of glass scattered on the ground with her fingertips.

Chen Yi felt a surge of irritation just looking at it. She crouched down, grabbed her arm to halt her movements, and pulled her roughly to her feet. Staring at her coldly, she said, “Xu Yan, it’s just a bottle of perfume. It’s already shattered—ruined, useless now.”

“But it’s the first gift you ever gave me.” Xu Yan lowered her eyes, her voice soft yet earnest. “I want to take it back with me.”

Chen Yi’s eyes stung, her nose prickling too. She found the whole thing ridiculous. Things had come to this, and yet here she was, still aching for Xu Yan’s sake. She remembered that question Su Dai had asked her long ago.

Chen Yi, do you even know the difference between a crush and love?

Back then, Chen Yi hadn’t known.

But in this moment, she felt like she finally understood.

She was the one mired in the swamp, bedraggled and filthy, treading thorns with wounds covering her body—and still, she fretted over whether the other person had gotten caught in the rain, whether she was hurt. Her heart ached for her. She wanted to comfort her.

Chen Yi, you’re pathetic.

“Come back with me.” Chen Yi tightened her grip on Xu Yan’s wrist. “I have something to tell you.”