Chapter 34

Summer in Jianjia was lush and green like brocade, the leaves a surging sea. Just looking at that green could calm the heart a few degrees.

When you couldn’t calm down, it was better not to look at all.

Yun Huizhi closed the windows and drew the curtains. In the dimly lit room, on the sofa, she sipped slowly until she finished all 500 milliliters of water in the cup.

Even without supervision, she was very conscientious.

But conscientiousness was meaningless now. No one was here anymore to check her lips and size up how kissable they were.

She looked at Chu Ruoyou’s handwriting on the note—upright and bold, carrying a sharp, cold edge.

The words “No further contact” were far too cold. Adding “Take care” afterward didn’t salvage it. Just one glance made Yun Huizhi feel like crying again.

She cried until her eyes were red-rimmed.

The moment she saw the note, she tried calling Chu Ruoyou on WeChat, then dialed her phone number directly, only to discover all means of contact had been blocked.

A bucket of ice water dumped over her head; Yun Huizhi no longer tried to figure out how to reach Chu Ruoyou.

Of course, she could find a way to force a line of communication, but what would be the point? She’d just be like a stalker, a nuisance.

Chu Ruoyou had ultimately chosen the way of leaving that Yun Huizhi hated and feared most: leaving without saying goodbye.

She had clearly promised she wouldn’t do that.

Yun Huizhi had never expected her to truly deliver on “never leaving,” nor had she wildly hoped Chu Ruoyou would stay in touch forever.

Whatever Chu Ruoyou did was fine. Yun Huizhi had long since lost in front of her; the decision-making power was always in Chu Ruoyou’s hands.

Yun Huizhi simply hadn’t expected that Chu Ruoyou would even strip away the chance for a farewell and the right to see her off.

Cruelly drawing a period at the end of what could be called a beautiful connection, tearing up all the hopes in her heart, ending her brief daydream.

Since you’re so unattainable, why put on such an act in the first place?

Tuition. Who the hell wants her tuition.

Giving money and then leaving, saying no further contact, not even giving her a chance to repay it—did she think she was brushing off a beggar?

After her breakdown, Yun Huizhi suddenly felt a flash of anger, an internal fit of pique. She flung the envelope across the room.

The slightly heavy paper envelope traced a sharp arc through the air, as if momentarily slicing open two parallel space-times.

In one space, she was humble and self-effacing, willing to chase after the person leaving at any cost, offering countless conditions in exchange for the right not to be abandoned. She felt justified, believing Chu Ruoyou wouldn’t refuse.

In the other space, she was proud and cowardly. She couldn’t allow Chu Ruoyou to toy with her like this, drain her emotions, and leave in the most detestable way. At the same time, she didn’t dare chase after her. She feared disturbing her, feared bringing annoyance and trouble to the person she liked.

She shuttled back and forth between these two spaces, finally settling to survive in the crevice between them, breathing with difficulty, piecing together her fragmented reason.

Consequently, she had no energy to trace back the cause. She didn’t want to analyze Chu Ruoyou’s sudden change and heartlessness.

Disappointment was like a giant vacuum bag; she was sealed inside, where even breathing was agony.

Her consciousness was utterly exhausted. The earlier bout of heavy crying, combined with an empty stomach, made her dizzy and lightheaded.

She closed her eyes and lay on the sofa, body and mind paying the price for these past half-month’s stolen, swindled absurdities and joys.

Only when night collapsed, its darkness shrouding all of Jianjia Town, did Yun Huizhi regain a little energy.

She walked over and picked up the envelope she’d thrown near the cabinet leg. Weak from exhaustion, she simply sat down on the floor in the same motion.

She meticulously counted the amount, bill by bill. The act of counting money was typically crass, but she had no mind to laugh at herself now.

The mechanical, mindless act of counting gave her brain a rest. This engagement became a method of self-healing.

Possibly hallucinating, a faint trace of Chu Ruoyou’s favorite perfume seemed to cling to the envelope.

It smelled just like a heart-wrenchingly seductive woman who refused to take responsibility.

She should have known all along!

The money in the envelope, combined with the daily transfers Chu Ruoyou had sent before, totaled twenty thousand yuan.

Clearly, Chu Ruoyou was a generous person. She could casually throw away this much money on a single trip, giving it to a stranger she didn’t plan on contacting again.

Apparently, the teachers’ salaries at her school were quite high.

Yun Huizhi finished counting and put it back in the envelope untouched. She thought self-deprecatingly, each time she received a transfer, she hadn’t been very happy at that moment, but hadn’t yet thought too poorly of herself.

But now, holding actual cash in her hands like this… it truly didn’t feel like tuition. More like compensation for accompanying her in bed.

So that’s how she sees me.

She searched every corner of the room, trying to find any trace—not yet destroyed—of Chu Ruoyou’s presence here, evidence that she had once lived here.

Unfortunately, besides the water cup, even the trash can had been cleaned out thoroughly.

Fortunately, at least the little gifts she’d given Chu Ruoyou had been taken away.

The bracelet, the lucky bead, the Polaroid photos.

Or had they been thrown out with the trash instead?!

Yun Huizhi finally mustered the energy to think about why.

She worked backward. Was it because this afternoon, when Chu Ruoyou asked her to stay, she went off with Shen Jiajia instead?

No. She had said she’d stay; Chu Ruoyou was the one who told her to go. Chu Ruoyou wasn’t that petty, to get so angry on the spot that she’d pack up and leave.

Then was it because of their conversation after lunch, when they came upstairs? Chu Ruoyou wasn’t happy with something?

But they hadn’t talked about much.

The parts she held back, Yun Huizhi had told her she’d explain before she left.

Could it be that the lie Chu Ruoyou mentioned was that she’d never planned on saying goodbye or staying in contact, all while acting deeply affectionate and reluctant to part?

No.

Still not right.

Yun Huizhi couldn’t figure it out. Any single thing could have triggered Chu Ruoyou’s departure, yet nothing felt conclusive. She felt there was a part she couldn’t connect.

She didn’t guess that her lies had been discovered, because Chu Ruoyou had even kindly left her money, specifically marked as tuition.

She didn’t detect a shred of sarcasm or veiled humiliation.

From the current evidence, the “tuition” was a one-time thing. Maybe after making the promise, Chu Ruoyou weighed the pros and cons and decided Yun Huizhi wasn’t worth sinking more money into.

So she decisively cut ties.

Yun Huizhi glanced at the time. If the journey had gone smoothly without delays, Chu Ruoyou should be home by now.

What did Chu Ruoyou eat for dinner? What would she do at home, who would she see? Did she feel unwell traveling during her period?

She must be thinking about that person called Yun Huizhi, whose mood was terrible right now. She definitely knew, but she didn’t care.

Yet Yun Huizhi didn’t know what her mood was now. Did she feel relieved to be rid of a burden, or was there a tiny bit of reluctance too?

Yun Huizhi was so hungry she couldn’t stand it. She made a cup of tonkotsu ramen and took it to the terrace to eat.

The rattan chair, assaulted by the night wind, was icy cold. She sat on it, eating quietly.

Chu Ruoyou didn’t like the red goji berries in the noodles, said it was supposed to be unhealthy junk food openly, why the need to pretend with a veneer of health?

So every goji berry she ate made Yun Huizhi’s heart ache.

This ache wasn’t an emotion; it was the physical sensation of her heart clenching, as if a small piece had been carved out.

After finishing the noodles, she looked at the moon.

She thought of every conversation she’d had with Chu Ruoyou while looking at the moon. They’d talked about so many things; sometimes they’d bicker, sometimes suddenly get all lovey-dovey.

Many times under the moonlight, she had mistakenly believed Chu Ruoyou would come to like her, that she would also be sad when it was time to leave.

Utterly foolish.

Shen Jiajia hadn’t contacted her all evening. She was probably out having fun somewhere, likely planning on an all-nighter.

As a half-host, Yun Huizhi had an obligation to check on her whereabouts, to ensure safety. But a person in a bad mood has no obligations to the world.

She could barely take care of herself; who was going to care if she was happy or safe?

The next day, Yun Huizhi didn’t allow herself to wallow by staying in bed. She got up early and went to the shop to eat the clear broth rice noodles Chu Ruoyou loved.

When she was leaving, the owner lady asked her, “Not packing any for your friend today?”

Like a rusty machine part suddenly jamming, Yun Huizhi went blank for a moment. Slowly, she said, “She’s gone.”

“Oh, I see.”

The owner was used to the constant flow of tourists coming and going and didn’t notice the sentimentality and frailty beneath Yun Huizhi’s words.

Yun Huizhi walked on the street. The sun at seven-something in the morning was already quite harsh, but she wasn’t afraid. She wanted to soak up more sun. She could solar-charge.

Once fully charged, her mood would improve.

Aside from Chu Ruoyou leaving without saying goodbye, she was mentally prepared for returning to a solitary life.

She also believed she could get over this quickly.

When her parents had abandoned her, she had cried her heart out because she was still young and terrified she wouldn’t survive.

But when her grandmother left her, her emotions had been much more stable. She’d cried a few times, but always managed to stay composed.

If even her own family leaving without a word hadn’t turned her into some pitiful, depressive mess… then what was… just a woman she’d only known for a short while?

Except now, every tree and blade of grass on this street, along with the endless parade of unfamiliar faces, suddenly made her feel weary.

An intense thought suddenly struck her: she wanted to leave this place.

But where would she go after leaving? She hadn’t even figured out which city to settle and work in.

As this thought formed, she understood why Chu Ruoyou would never truly like her.

Because she was just too ordinary. Her confusion and aimlessness held no special distinction; she might not even be much better than Shen Jiajia.

People like her were everywhere.

She knew perfectly well what kind of person Chu Ruoyou liked.

Someone with resolute eyes, clear goals, and a mature, honest drive to pursue them.

She had cried and clung, briefly earning Chu Ruoyou’s goodwill. Chu Ruoyou had pitied her for a moment, soothed her with a few nice words, given her a sliver of hope.

But all Chu Ruoyou needed was to calm down to realize that someone like her could only provide superficial amusement, not a sense of stability.

After all, from Chu Ruoyou’s perspective, Yun Huizhi was still a kid who wanted to study, still needing endless amounts of money poured into her.

Nothing about her exuded any allure to fall in love with.

The way Chu Ruoyou looked at her was probably how she herself looked at Shen Jiajia.

Yun Huizhi felt a bit of regret. Back then, being frivolous, she had set up quite a terrible persona for herself.

She might as well have claimed to be a flirt… ah, forget it. Whatever she said would have been wrong anyway. Posting online to invite someone to visit was already flaky to begin with.

She returned to the inn, her expression more sour than the working stiff Little Zhang, successfully attracting his attention.

Yun Huizhi said, “Chu Ruoyou has left.”

“Oh.” Little Zhang was calm.

Yun Huizhi suddenly thought of something. “Can you pull up the hallway surveillance for me? I want to see her.”

Little Zhang didn’t understand. “See what?”

“She left without saying goodbye. Yesterday afternoon.”

Little Zhang frowned and told her, “I ran into her in the hallway yesterday at noon. She asked me something about you.”

“What did she ask?”

“She asked how long you’ve been staying at the inn, and whether your aunt is my boss.”

“Huh?”

Yun Huizhi didn’t immediately piece it together, but she tensed up. “What did you tell her?”

“I said nothing. Told her to ask you herself.”

Yun Huizhi was slightly annoyed. “Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

Little Zhang replied coldly, “Meddling in other people’s relationships is the most unwise behavior. You get blamed from both sides. Your affairs have nothing to do with me.”

Yun Huizhi glared at him with murderous eyes, yet had to admit he was right.

“Quit the nonsense. Get me the surveillance footage.”

“You want to know what time she left?”

“I just want to see her one more time.”

As Little Zhang worked, he asked, “Did you two have a fight?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“Okay.”

In the recording, Chu Ruoyou was wearing the same outfit from their first meeting, with sunglasses and a mask. After closing the door behind her, without a trace of reluctance, she pulled her suitcase away without a backward glance.

Yun Huizhi watched how, unhurried and calm, she had walked out of her world.

Little Zhang handed over an entire box of tissues.

This emotionless straight guy is beyond saving.

Yun Huizhi pulled out a few sheets herself, wiping away the tears that had accidentally slipped out.

She needed to think hard about why.