In Shinjuku Ward, at the Keio Plaza Hotel Tokyo, Feng Xiaohe and her companions were dining in the restaurant. Outside, the countless high-rises of Shinjuku blazed with lights. From the upper floors of the hotel, the ceaseless stream of cars and bustling crowds below seemed so tiny and insignificant.
Today was Feng Xiaohe’s last day of vacation in Tokyo. The plane tickets had already been purchased.
Earlier, Feng Xiaohe had attended the signing event and seen Tsukiyuki Rio’s true face. Since then, she’d been utterly dejected. The sense of inferiority rooted deep in her bones left her without even the courage to shout out her love. Tsukiyuki Rio was not only wealthy and influential, but also possessed a stunning, almost divine beauty. Compared to her, Feng Xiaohe felt pathetically laughable.
“Are you sure you won’t stay a few more days?” Feng Na asked.
“No, I need to head back home with my younger sister soon.”
Feng Xiaohe pretended to casually savor the Chinese cuisine at the five-star hotel, but her heart was a tangled mess. Normally, Feng Xiaohe was a reasonably confident young woman, navigating the business world with ease and possessing a bearing that would not be outdone by any man.
But now, Feng Xiaohe felt her own appearance could only attract flies, never able to gain true love.
“I will definitely make my sister happy.”
Feng Xiaona, seated beside her, spoke up.
“Xiaona’s happiness is Sister’s happiness. Xiaona, don’t worry about me.”
“What time is the flight tomorrow?” Qu Xiqian asked.
“Tomorrow evening at eight, from Narita International Airport.” Feng Xiaohe paused, then continued, “Are you two planning to stay in Tokyo?”
Qu Xiqian and Feng Na both nodded.
“Xiaona and I will have to leave first thing tomorrow morning. Narita International Airport is quite far from Shinjuku, so you two don’t need to see us off.”
“Is that really okay?”
“Yes, this is enough. At least I got his signed tankobon.”
Feng Xiaohe flipped open the cover of the tankobon. The pen name left on the title page wasn’t Tsukiyuki Nishiki, but rather Bishop Myriel.
She was one hundred percent certain that Little Ai had definitely recognized her. Unfortunately, Little Ai said nothing and simply left his signature.
Her palm clenched in unwilling frustration. If only Tsukiyuki Rio and Yu Qingxue did not exist in this world.
Then none of these accidents would have happened. Little Ai would not have been kidnapped, and she would have become the most outstanding girl Gao Sijin could ever see. They would have shared life’s joys and sorrows together, growing old side by side. No one would have fought her for Gao Sijin.
But now, all those dreams had turned to nothing.
“Xiaona, after dinner, let’s sleep early tonight. Tomorrow we still have to travel to Narita City in Chiba Prefecture. Honestly, Tokyo doesn’t seem that fun. There are plenty of interesting places waiting for us back in Magic City.”
Feng Xiaona stared blankly at her sister. She knew perfectly well that her sister was deceiving herself, but couldn’t bear to puncture the lie. She could only let out a soft sigh…
After dinner, the two sisters returned to their room early. Feng Xiaona flipped through the light novel, noting that the stylistic language of its Japanese text was even more beautiful than the original version. The prose and language habits were heavily influenced by Japanese style, brimming with a sense of artistic mood.
No wonder the book received such acclaim upon its release. Beyond the main storyline, countless minor details showed traces of meticulous revision. It proved the translator possessed profound linguistic skill—likely at least a Chinese language professor from a prestigious university to wield such literary talent.
Time flew by as she read, and in a blink, it was nine o’clock at night.
“Goodnight, Xiaona.”
“Goodnight, Sister.”
Feng Xiaohe turned off the lights.
The quiet room always carried a faint chill in the air.
Though there were two single beds, Feng Xiaona secretly slipped into her sister’s covers, like a nimble, mischievous little cat.
The sudden warmth startled Feng Xiaohe.
“I want to sleep with Sister tonight…”
“Alright.”
Feng Xiaohe didn’t refuse her sister’s request. Her sister was her only reason to go on living now, and she relished the feeling of being depended upon.
“Sister, do you know what I’m thinking?”
“Homesick?”
“No, I’m thinking, how wonderful it would be if Brother Sijin were in bed with us right now, the three of us sleeping together.”
Feng Xiaohe’s expression turned slightly bitter. She merely stroked her sister’s hair, which felt as smooth as silk.
She recalled the book Schoolgirl that Little Ai had once recommended. At the time, she hadn’t fully grasped the tone of that work.
Now, the final passage of Schoolgirl surfaced in her mind. The pressure inside her felt as if it would shatter her last line of defense—Goodnight! I am a Cinderella who will never be noticed by the Prince. Oh Prince, do you know in which corner of Tokyo I am? Cinderella will never see the Prince again.
Tomorrow will be yet another identical day, and happiness will never visit in a lifetime.
Even so, I must believe in happiness’s arrival. Only then can I sleep soundly.
Why is the night so long?
Why, even while embracing my sister, is my heart still so cold?
Pass faster, night.
Her consciousness gradually sank into darkness. That night, she did not dream any dreams. Perhaps she had become so utterly haggard that she no longer even had the strength to dream of him.
At eight o’clock the next morning, an urgent ringtone jolted Feng Xiaohe awake. She groggily opened her bleary eyes. The agonizing night had finally passed.
“Morning, Sister.”
“Morning, Xiaona.”
In the end, she would have to leave Tokyo like a deserter. If she stayed any longer, perhaps even a normal night’s sleep would become a luxury.
Her luggage was already packed. Before departing, she decided to have breakfast with her sister, Feng Na, and Qu Xiqian—one last farewell.
“Morning, Xiaohe. Xiqian and I just woke up, too. We’ll head out after changing clothes.”
Feng Na was full of energy, seeming to have been awake for a while. A moment later, Qu Xiqian also emerged from her room. The group took the elevator down to the restaurant, ready to say their final goodbyes.
But the moment they entered the restaurant lobby, Feng Xiaohe’s gaze was immediately drawn to a single person. She was a beauty with skin as white as snow, jet-black hair, and crimson lips. Her curvaceous figure and full, shapely thighs were even more enticing than many popular celebrities.
Feng Xiaohe recognized the beauty sitting there.
That was Yu Qingxue—the woman who, through a transaction, had stolen away the love of her life.
Now she was here, seated in the restaurant, a trace of contemptuous amusement in her eyes. Her alluring, languid poise was profoundly seductive. It was this very kind of unreachable beauty that made Feng Xiaohe feel so inferior, so desperate to simply dissolve into the air and drift away.
Yu Qingxue crooked a finger in Feng Xiaohe’s direction, beckoning her over.
She must have found out about yesterday’s attendance at Little Ai’s signing and was here to interrogate her. But how could Feng Xiaohe have helped it? Knowing Little Ai held a signing and simply ignoring it—she couldn’t steel her heart to do that.
Besides, she had worn a disguise back then, donning a mask and sunglasses, concealing her features completely.
