Chapter 85: Queyue Clings to Sutong

After Song Zhe left that cryptic warning, he hurried away, leaving Feng Miwan lost in thought by herself.

When she returned to reunite with Xiong Yibai, she found only Zhao Shutong waiting in the lounge. Ren Queyue was nowhere to be seen.

Feng Miwan glanced around and asked, “Shutong, where’s Sister Queyue?”

Zhao Shutong had been staring down at her phone. She looked up at the question, a flicker of unease crossing her face.

“Oh, she said something urgent had come up, so she changed her flight to head back early.”

Feng Miwan and Xiong Yibai exchanged a glance.

This wasn’t like Ren Queyue at all. Before, she’d practically glued herself to Zhao Shutong’s side.

Feng Miwan probed gently, “Did you two… have a fight or something?”

Zhao Shutong forced a wry smile. “It’s nothing.”

She clearly didn’t want to talk about it and lowered her head to fiddle with her phone again.

Seeing her like this, Feng Miwan and Xiong Yibai didn’t press further.

The group headed to the airport to fly back to Tanzhou City.

In the waiting lounge, Feng Miwan recounted her recent conversation with Song Zhe to Feng Yuxiao. He listened thoughtfully and said,

“I get it. He’s right—you need to be careful and try not to go out alone.”

Feng Miwan nodded. Feng Yuxiao stood up to make a phone call.

Just then, Feng Miwan received a message from Ren Queyue:

“Little Wan, congrats on the win! Godlike performance in the rain! I’ve got some personal stuff to handle, so I slipped away first. Next time, I’ll make it up to you with a proper victory celebration!”

It was followed by a bouquet emoji.

Feng Miwan replied: “Okay, thanks, Sister Queyue.”

She set her phone down and turned to Zhao Shutong, who sat nearby looking distracted. Unable to hold back, she scooted closer and nudged her shoulder lightly.

“Shutong.”

“Hm?” Zhao Shutong snapped back to attention.

Feng Miwan looked at her earnestly. “Aren’t we best friends?”

Zhao Shutong blinked, then laughed. “Duh, do I even need to answer? Of course we are!”

Feng Miwan stared straight into her eyes.

“Then why won’t you even tell me that you and Ren Queyue used to date?”

The smile froze on Zhao Shutong’s face. Her eyes darted away for a moment, but she finally sighed.

“…It’s not that I don’t want to tell you. It’s just… I don’t want to think about it.”

Xiong Yibai suddenly set her phone down and chimed in.

“But you look like you’re always thinking about it, don’t you?”

Zhao Shutong fell silent for a few seconds before murmuring a quiet “Mm-hmm.”

“…Yeah, I can’t forget.”

Feng Miwan said, “Then… could you tell us about it? Might feel better to get it out. Maybe we can even help with some advice.”

Zhao Shutong met Feng Miwan’s concerned gaze and forced a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“It’s not really anything that can’t be said. If you want to know… I’ll tell you.”

She shifted in her seat, her gaze drifting out the window to the planes taking off and landing on the runway, as if transported back through time to that unforgettable past she hesitated to revisit.

Feng Miwan and Xiong Yibai quieted down, ready to listen.

Zhao Shutong began her story.

“Our parents—both sets—were close friends. One family was a literary dynasty steeped in ink and brushes, the other a business powerhouse dominating the markets.”

“She was born first, and not long after, my parents had me. The adults got together and jokingly said that if I turned out to be a boy, we’d arrange a marriage alliance to seal the bond.”

“Her parents, caught up in their literary fervor, declared that if they were setting a betrothal, the names had to match like a pair.”

“So they pulled ‘Shutong’ and ‘Queyue’ from the phrase ‘Queyue hangs on Shutong’ for us.”

“But then I was born—a girl too.”

“The baby betrothal naturally fell through, but our families’ friendship didn’t suffer.”

“We grew up together like that—same school, walking to and from together every day.”

She took a sip of water and continued.

“Kids, you know—always bickering and roughhousing.”

“Back then, she had this scholarly air, just like her parents—prim and proper. She could never win arguments with me and would stomp off in frustration, helpless against me.”

A genuine smile flickered across her face at the memory, but it faded quickly.

“Then… something big happened. My parents’ business rival kidnapped me.”

Feng Miwan and Xiong Yibai’s expressions grew serious.

Feng Miwan asked softly, “And then?”

“Then? Of course I got rescued. Otherwise, you’d be talking to a ghost right now. I won’t go into the details—it was a close call, but no lasting harm.”

Zhao Shutong’s tone grew complicated.

“I thought she didn’t know about it at the time.”

“I figured her parents wouldn’t tell a little elementary school kid about something so upsetting—they’d be afraid to scare her.”

“I didn’t mention it to her either, since my parents told me not to blab.”

“But… much later, I found out she knew all along.”

“And that’s when I noticed she changed. Completely, out of nowhere.”

“She chopped off her long hair into the short style she has now and signed up for boxing classes without a word. Her hands were always bruised from training.”

“The strangest part was how clingy she became.”

“Before, we’d squabble and play separately sometimes, but after that, she followed me everywhere I went.”

“That bookish vibe she’d always had—the one where I’d bully her and she’d take it—vanished without a trace.”

Zhao Shutong shook her head, still baffled by it.

“I was totally confused and asked her, ‘Why’d you suddenly decide to learn this? And cut your hair?'”

“She just said, ‘I like it. Wanted to learn.'”

“Even her parents didn’t get it—they thought she’d turned into a different person. But I… I just thought she was acting weird and didn’t dig deeper.”

“Then, as we grew up, things slowly shifted between us. Not sure when it started, but the playful bickering turned into something… ambiguous, hard to define.”

“On the night of my high school graduation, we were strolling by the river. The moon was bright, and the breeze felt nice.”

“As we walked, I suddenly remembered the kidnapping from when we were kids. I teased her in an exaggerated tone: ‘Hey, Queyue, wanna hear a secret? You won’t believe this—I got kidnapped in elementary school! Super thrilling…'”

The memory shifted to the past.

The young Zhao Shutong finished and looked expectantly at Ren Queyue beside her, anticipating shock.

But Ren Queyue just glanced sideways at her, calm as ever.

“I know.”

Zhao Shutong froze, then laughed and shoved her playfully.

“No way! How could you? I never told you! Uncle and Auntie definitely wouldn’t have either!”