Chapter 70

X8 was the year Song Qingre jumped into the artificial lake in winter.

That year, Yan Qingqiu was always complaining to Su Xingjie that Song Qingre was following her, saying she was clinging to her.

Su Xingjie didn't believe it at first. She found it strange—Song Qingre had already gone abroad by then, studying overseas. How could she have come back?

Su Xingjie voiced her doubts, suspecting Yan Qingqiu was under too much pressure. Every time she tried to comfort Yan Qingqiu, the latter would lose her temper, insisting Song Qingre had really returned. But when Su Xingjie asked what Song Qingre wanted from her, Yan Qingqiu couldn't say either—like she was haunted by something, terrified. Su Xingjie even hinted at taking her to see a therapist, but she refused.

One day, Yan Qingqiu invited her out to eat at their high school's secret base—a deep alley lined with two rows of trees, with an ecological park behind it.

That time, she did see Song Qingre. She wore a white dress with a square neckline, hem reaching her knees. By then, Su Xingjie had started sketching, and she admired Song Qingre's grown-up beauty and her artistic aura—clean, so clean it was frightening.

Maybe because Qiuqiu had talked about her so much, Su Xingjie felt something off about Song Qingre.

Song Qingre smiled at them and said, "Long time no see."

"Yan Qingqiu."

She smiled again, and then Qiu Bao walked over. She gripped the knife and stabbed straight in.

Su Xingjie watched, eyes wide. In that instant she lost her voice, staring in horror at those two people. She had been pondering what brand Song Qingre's dress was, how it was designed and cut. And then... the blood bloomed.

She suspected Song Qingre had seen the knife, yet she didn't fight back, letting it go in.

She also suspected Qiu Bao had planned it beforehand.

In just a moment, the person collapsed directly.

Why did it come to this? They were still good friends. Su Xingjie stared at her. Yan Qingqiu ran over, grabbed her hand, gripped it tightly, and said, "...We killed someone."

She used "we," dragging a bystander into it.

Su Xingjie wasn't stupid. She understood what her good friend meant—she wanted Su Xingjie on her side. But it was an old trick. She'd seen it in movies and TV countless times: when someone commits a crime, they pull another person in to keep the secret, dragging them into the consequences first. She knew it all too well, and she didn't want to be "we" with Yan Qingqiu.

Yan Qingqiu pulled her a long way. Su Xingjie called for emergency services, but they said someone had already called, and the victim had reported herself.

The night was deep, and Su Xingjie's drunken words circled in Yan Qingqiu's ears: "I" was the one who stabbed her. More precisely, the previous transmigrator had used this body to stab her.

No wonder Song Qingre had ended so many transmigrators.

"She" actually stabbed her. How much pain must that have been?

How much pain must Song Xiaore have felt—heartbroken and hurt.

This world must be hell for her.

Yan Qingqiu's heart was squeezed hard, pain making her squint. The grip on her heart didn't stop, grinding over and over, and she could barely breathe. She had come out in just her pajamas, unable to tell if she was cold or just grieving.

In a few short seconds, she felt the pain of not being able to breathe.

Yan Qingqiu suppressed her misery, digging her nails into her leg. It was useless. It just hurt, hurt—her body ached, her breath ached, and her heart ached even more.

It was unbearable.

A knock hurt; let alone a long, deep gash.

"Were you scared too?" Yan Qingqiu asked softly to the person on the other end of the line.

Su Xingjie fell silent. Her voice trembled, as if realizing belatedly, I was supposed to be scared, "Mm."

When she reacted, her voice choked up. Her eyes inexplicably welled with tears. She went to wipe them and only then realized she was wearing glasses. She took them off, wiped her eyes with her hand, still reeking of alcohol. After two swipes her eyes turned red—the liquor was too strong, stinging them.

Su Xingjie said, "Those years, no one wasn't scared... trembling, afraid you'd go mad, destroy all the balance."

Su Xingjie had always worried about hurting her, preferring to endure rather than bring up the past.

She heard the other side say, "I'm sorry."

Qiu Bao's voice was low, drifting like the wind, not solid at all—graspable as a breeze that could scatter at any moment.

"It's not your fault. I know... it wasn't your intention." Su Xingjie soothed her in a hoarse voice.

Yan Qingqiu didn't like apologizing. She always felt she shouldn't take the blame; those things weren't done by her, and she would never own up to them. She wouldn't bear consequences for mistakes she didn't make.

But now, she felt miserable. If only she had come earlier. If only she... had come earlier.

Beyond those thoughts, she didn't know what to say.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Yan Qingqiu whispered several times, "We agreed to be best friends, to always protect you. But making you this scared... I'm really sorry..."

Su Xingjie had been holding it together, but hearing that, with the alcohol as a catalyst—

All the grievances, all the fear, came flooding out. Su Xingjie couldn't hold it in. "I realized a long time ago. I knew something was wrong, but I was helpless. I couldn't pull you back. I'm sorry. I should be the one saying sorry. I'm sorry..."

Each apology was swallowed by the darkness. Both of them were choking back sobs, unable to crawl out of their guilt, unable to break free from the trap.

Su Xingjie was very drunk, trying hard not to let Yan Qingqiu hear it.

Yan Qingqiu said, "Don't drink. Get some rest. I'll come find you tomorrow."

Someone pressed the wrong button, and the call ended.

Their emotions were too intense, both buried deep in self-blame.

Yan Qingqiu took shaky breaths. She put down her phone and rubbed her face with her palms over and over, trying to soothe herself. When the tears finally stopped, she took a deep breath and got up from the stairs, dizzy, almost missing a step. She steadied herself, pursed her lips, and tiptoed back to her room, turning off the bedroom light. She lay on the bed and curled up under the covers.

She was still holding her phone, so she climbed back out to put it away.

A few minutes later, the bathroom door opened.

The room was pitch dark, no light to be seen. Song Qingre froze for a moment—wasn't she just lying on the bed playing with her phone earlier?

She looked toward the bed. No light, couldn't see the person inside. Song Qingre reached out and flipped the wall switch. The person in bed let out an "Mm," so Song Qingre turned the light off again. She went back to the bathroom to dry her hair before coming out.

Song Qingre fumbled her way carefully onto the bed.

She lay down beside Yan Qingqiu, who was sleeping on her side. Once Song Qingre was settled, Yan Qingqiu draped one leg over her. Song Qingre didn't move, letting her cling.

Song Qingre picked up her phone to look, then grabbed her tablet as well.

She worked on the tablet and read news on her phone, multitasking.

After working for a while, she heard Yan Qingqiu speaking, voice very soft—that sleepy, murmuring tone of someone talking in her sleep. Yan Qingqiu mumbled indistinctly, "I'm sorry."

Song Qingre didn't catch it the first time. Yan Qingqiu murmured again, "I'm sorry."

This time it was clearer. Song Qingre suspected she wasn't asleep and looked down. Yan Qingqiu's eyes were closed.

Song Qingre didn't question it further, assuming she'd had a nightmare. She stroked Yan Qingqiu's hair and said, "It's okay. Really, it's okay. Don't be sad. Did you have a dream?"

Even if Yan Qingqiu was asleep, she still coaxed her softly, "It's okay, it's okay."

Yan Qingqiu's heart ached even more. She felt she most owed Song Qingre an apology—face to face, sincere.

But she had to say it this way, and it hurt her deeply.

Yan Qingqiu's eyes were shut, lashes trembling slightly. She didn't dare think of anything, didn't dare let Song Qingre know she was faking sleep.

She peeked through half-lidded eyes at Song Qingre typing.

Song Qingre's fingers were long, fast, with few errors.

On her phone was a news page. Song Qingre was watching the video of Fu Sang crashing into her car; the public security bureau had replied that the investigation was ongoing.

On the tablet was a chat app. The message read: 【Don't worry. I've already gone to convince Fu Zhenguo about the Fu Sang modeling agency. He won't invest a cent—I'll persuade him directly to recover the funds.】

The name was "Chen What's-his-name," which was exactly how Song Qingre had saved it, whether she knew him or not.

Song Qingre replied: 【How's your CEO?】

Chen What's-his-name: 【1 or 2?】

Song Qingre: 【2】

Chen What's-his-name: 【Pretty good. Since it was your funding that got him promoted, he'll listen to you. Otherwise, if you exposed him, he'd be out.】

Song Qingre: 【Stick to the original plan.】

Chen What's-his-name: 【Got it. I checked on the news from side 1. After the gland was removed, his mental state went haywire. He's still being treated and ranting daily. The Fu family has completely abandoned him; only his mother visits occasionally. Hardly anyone contacts him now. But when he's lucid, he keeps contacting the Luo family, trying to arrange a marriage alliance. At first the Luos replied to his messages, now they just hang up. Is he still useful?】

Song Qingre: 【Very useful.】

The next few lines were idle chatter, and then the conversation ended. Song Qingre looked down at Yan Qingqiu, whose eyes were still closed, lying on her side beside her.

Song Qingre set down her phone, placed the tablet on the headboard, and lay down to sleep. She kissed Yan Qingqiu's forehead, then the space between her brows, and finally her lips.

Song Qingre held her and said, "We won't be separated."

Yan Qingqiu's heart pounded wildly, aching.

She pressed down hard, her heart and mind filled with too many apologies.

Yan Qingqiu didn't sleep, and neither did Su Xingjie.

One tried to recall the events of that year, while the other... didn't want to remember.

··

Early in the morning, Yan Qingqiu's head throbbed. She tried hard to recall whether she'd lost any memories.

She thought for half an hour. When Song Qingre went to the bathroom to freshen up, she slowly followed and leaned against the bathroom door.

Song Qingre was brushing her teeth and squeezed toothpaste onto Yan Qingqiu's brush.

Yan Qingqiu checked herself in the mirror—her face was haggard. She didn't brush her teeth first. "The day I came back to the country, I woke up and wasn't wearing clothes. Did we do something that morning? Was there a one-night stand?"

Song Qingre let out a soft laugh and rinsed her mouth.

Yan Qingqiu had planned to look down while rinsing, but now she asked curiously, "What did I do?"

Song Qingre wiped her lips. "Nothing much. You just had no dignity."

Yan Qingqiu said, "How... no dignity?"

She figured her body might have lacked dignity, but her mouth should have been tough...

"You called me boss and kowtowed to me."

"..."

Yan Qingqiu shook her head. "You're lying."

She was obviously lying. She couldn't be that pathetic!

"Why, why would I kowtow to you?"

Song Qingre thought for a moment. "You said you'd done something to wrong me, regretted it, and wanted to kowtow to me—one bow to heaven and earth, two bows to the high hall."

"...Then, then I probably did kowtow." Yan Qingqiu guessed. She'd been dizzy the day she arrived. No wait, that was strange. She clearly remembered that day—she'd only recalled it a few days ago. Why was she forgetting again... Her memory was a mess.

She remembered being in some strange space, feeling awful, then seeing Song Qingre, being terrified of her, and saying she wanted to kowtow.

Song Qingre said she'd put a mark on her.

Of course.

Yan Qingqiu woke up with a headache, feeling like she might be losing more memories...

Yan Qingqiu gradually remembered. Last time she'd seen that soft room, it felt just like when she'd first transmigrated.

According to Song Qingre, that was Fu Sang's mental energy.

Fu Sang wanted to kill her!? She'd wanted to kill her from the very start!!

Yan Qingqiu couldn't figure out much else, but one thing was crystal clear: from now on, she had to cling to Song Qingre's leg and never let go.

Yan Qingqiu hinted to Song Qingre, "That day when you were in the office with her, did you feel the room change? Like a very distorted feeling."

Song Qingre turned around and turned on the faucet.

She flicked her finger lightly, and the water droplets on her fingertip splashed against the edge of the sink.

A moment later, she turned back, her fingers not yet dried, water still dripping.

"A little. At the time I felt like Fu Sang might want to kill me. I just didn't understand why she'd do that."

Fu Sang definitely had a problem. They must have wanted to kill Song Qingre, but Song Qingre had turned it around—that was self-defense!

Yan Qingqiu handed her a tissue, bit her lip, then thought of that scar. "Did they catch the robber who stabbed you?"

Song Qingre didn't answer. She tossed the tissue into the trash and walked out. Yan Qingqiu cleaned herself up and went out too.

Why didn't she answer? Didn't she hear?

That morning there was a haze in the air. The atmosphere wasn't great. Downstairs, Yan Fu was reading the newspaper, occasionally making calls to look up Fu Sang's background. He also knew about the hit-and-run.

Yan Qingqiu went over and quietly asked Yan Fu a question. "Dad, one more thing. When you were young, did you ever make a mistake?"

Yan Fu frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Nothing." If he had, Yan Fu would understand.

Yan Fu found her strange and frowned all the way to the dining room. Yan Qingqiu was just ruling out possibilities. Since Fu Sang and she couldn't be sisters, then she might very well be the previous transmigrator. But why wasn't she dead?

Didn't the system say Song Qingre had killed 9,125 of them?

Did she miss one?

Or did she deliberately let one go?

"Are you scared?" the butler asked. "That Fu Sang actually dared to ram your car."

Yan Fu said, "She probably thinks she's got money and can get bail. She's thinking too much. Qiuqiu is an SSS-level omega."

Yan Qingqiu felt it wasn't because of that. It might be because of Su Xingjie. If Fu Sang was the previous transmigrator and claimed to be "Miss Yan," would Xingxing side with her, being unconditionally good to her as before?

"Miss, this is hand-washing water. Why are you drinking it directly?" The butler quickly took the glass and had a maid remove it.

Yan Qingqiu pressed her temples. "I'm shaken up, a bit out of it. I keep feeling like she'll come again. Dad, I'm scared."

"Don't be, don't be." Yan Fu comforted her, then added, "Tomorrow I'll go to the temple and get you a talisman."

"I already have one." Yan Qingqiu remembered the one Luo Xi had given her and had the maid fetch her gift box.

Yan Fu asked curiously, "So you've patched things up with the Luo family lately? Her father also came to talk business with me recently."

Yan Qingqiu hummed in agreement. With Luo Xi not around, she spoke frankly: "Luo Xi... how should I put it? She just liked the wrong person. Love unrequited made her look foolish, but now she seems fine."

Yan Fu said, "Sounds like your situation before."

Yan Qingqiu thought to herself, That's a huge difference. There have been several people swapped into this body of mine; Luo Xi's body probably hasn't.

Luo Xi finally found someone she liked. I hope she never ends up like me.

The fewer cases like hers, the better.

"What's wrong?" Song Qingre looked at her puzzled. Yan Qingqiu was about to say nothing, but Yan Fu cut in, "Probably remembering the past and feeling upset."

Yan Qingqiu looked at him in confusion, wondering how he knew. Yan Fu said, "Yesterday you sat on the steps for quite a long time."

So, he'd seen her cry?

And heard what she said?

Yan Qingqiu quickly signaled Yan Fu, who naturally wouldn't reveal that she'd cried. He said, "Eat something. I don't think you need to go to work anymore. Didn't Xingjie give you a month off?"

Yan Qingqiu clutched her spoon and sipped some fermented rice balls. "Yeah, I already talked to Xingjie. We're going on a trip for New Year."

"Go, go. Perfect chance for you to rest well."

Song Qingre ate slowly and said, "I need to go back to the studio today too."

"I'll come with you."

Yan Fu stared at them. The butler said, "The young lady is getting more and more attached to Miss Song."

Song Qingre also asked Yan Qingqiu, "Why aren't you hanging out with Su Xingjie anymore?"

"She's busy."

Yan Qingqiu didn't know how to face Su Xingjie's scrutiny. The more she cared, the less she could speak. Everyone had a card on the table, but all of them pressed it down hard, silent.

Yan Qingqiu was tough-mouthed but fearful at heart. She didn't know how to confess.

She couldn't muster the courage. She didn't even dare tell Yan Fu the truth. She felt Yan Fu also knew about the stabbing.

He was just protecting his daughter's dignity—bringing it up would hurt too much, so he simply acted like she'd been possessed by an evil spirit.

How had "she" managed to wound everyone who was good to her, inside and out?

But she truly couldn't bear it.

··

Su Xingjie slept until afternoon. When she woke, she turned over and realized something was off—she'd slept in the bathtub all night. No wonder her head ached.

Su Xingjie pushed herself up and washed her face. She tied her hair up with a scrunchie.

Her phone rang. She searched around the bathroom, then opened the door and found it had fallen under the bar counter outside.

She went to the balcony and used a hanger to fish it out.

She had several messages, all from Yan Qingqiu.

Yan Qingqiu: 【Are you awake?】

Yan Qingqiu: 【I had the head chef make something good. Should I bring it over?】

Yan Qingqiu: 【Hello?】

Su Xingjie was dazed, temples throbbing. She pressed her fingers to them, suppressing the sharp pain. Her lips parted slightly, wanting to reply with a voice message, but only a grunt came out. She closed her eyes and sent a text, phone nearly pressed to her face.

She typed: 【I'm awake. Been a bit tired lately, slept through everything.】

Yan Qingqiu replied instantly: 【I haven't left yet. Want me to bring you food?】

It was Saturday, so no need to run around; she could rest at home.

Su Xingjie glanced at the empty liquor bottles on the counter and used voice-to-text: 【No need, don't come. I'll sleep a bit more. Too many things going on. I'm wiped out.】

Yan Qingqiu read the message, feeling her mood sink. She feared she'd slipped up yesterday and Su Xingjie was distancing herself. If so, she didn't blame her—it was normal. She'd stabbed someone and remembered nothing.

No matter how she explained it, Su Xingjie wouldn't believe her. Yan Qingqiu also regretted not faking a small car accident after transmigrating, or falling from a building, so she could pretend to have amnesia.

She really suspected the previous transmigrator might be Fu Sang.

But had "she" always been Fu Sang, or had she stolen Fu Sang's body like she'd stolen Miss Yan's?

It was disgusting. Even if it was a game, realizing people had lives, families, and friends, you shouldn't hurt the people around you like that.

Disgusting, absolutely disgusting—enough to make her sick.

She looked at her phone and closed her eyes.

Yan Qingqiu: 【I won't come. I'll have a delivery send you some food. Don't starve yourself, okay? Get some rest.】

Su Xingjie replied with a "Sure."

She poured a glass of warm water and drank it, then opened her laptop. Her work account had a few new messages.

Secretary: 【President Su, Fu Sang's lawyer called. She wants to meet with you. Do you have time?】

Su Xingjie blew on her tea, took a sip, and set the cup down. She typed: 【Meet me? Wishful thinking. Who does she think she is now? What right does she have to meet me?】

After sending, she added: 【Does she even qualify to meet me? Give her those exact words.】

Secretary: 【Got it, right away.】

Su Xingjie: 【Have you found Qiang Wei?】

Secretary: 【Not yet. I'll file a report together when I go to the police station later.】

Su Xingjie propped her chin on her hand and let out a long breath. She sipped her tea. Those chat logs Qiang Wei had shared had shocked her too. She knew Qiang Wei had feelings for her—it was an open secret in the company. She'd always believed that as long as Qiang Wei didn't say it, they didn't need to avoid each other, and likewise, she didn't need to care about Qiang Wei's feelings.

Love was better left unspoken. Once spoken, it became a heavy burden.

Fu Sang had exposed that and created a heavy burden on her work.

She didn't blame Qiang Wei exactly—she could empathize a little.

Su Xingjie's fingers landed on the keyboard. She typed: 【Message Qiang Wei and say the company is in chaos and I'm swamped over here.】

【If she doesn't show up, something's wrong.】

Secretary: 【Okay.】

Qiang Wei was meticulous, low-key, even a bit self-effacing. People who dealt with her at the company wouldn't know she'd once been a sensational supermodel unless they were close to her. She usually ran errands with Su Xingjie like an assistant, and only those closest knew her designs were outstanding—she was the sales ace every year. She not only handled design but also assisted Su Xingjie with the artistic direction of every runway show. The two often collaborated. Qiang Wei never competed or grabbed, was very quiet, and was a genuinely good person.

If those chat logs hadn't been leaked, probably everyone would still think her affection was simple, untainted by anything.

Su Xingjie pressed her brow, her head aching at the thought. She propped her chin on her hand and let out a soft hum.

She downed an entire cup of tea in a daze, but her head wasn't any clearer. She yawned several times and caught a sour, musty smell. She'd drunk too much yesterday and hadn't changed her clothes. She went to shower and changed into clean clothes, tossed the old ones in the washer, then sat at the bar in a daze.

Her phone rang. The takeout had arrived at the gate, but the guard wouldn't let the courier into the neighborhood, so she had to come down to collect it.

Su Xingjie nodded absently and said okay, still hazy from the alcohol. She forgot things almost as soon as they happened.

She went downstairs. The food was what Yan Qingqiu had sent—a large box.

She carried it up, opened it, and found soup and dishes, plus some snacks.

Yan Qingqiu was fussy but thoughtful. She'd left a note: 【No matter how busy you are, eat on time. Don't mistreat yourself.】

Su Xingjie held the note and went to the bookshelf. Out of habit, she used a book to press the note between its pages. This time she paused, remembering what Fu Sang had said about Qiang Wei: Don't you think these habits of yours are creepy?

No wonder she felt so uncomfortable—she hadn't realized she'd been caught in that crossfire too.

Actually, she hadn't collected Qiu Bao's little notes as treasures and bookmarks in years.

She used to think Qiuqiu's words were romantic, every line like a beautifully crafted sentence from a writer, worth collecting.

After high school, her notes always said "Fu Ye," and Su Xingjie would feel repulsed and irritated.

But Qiu Bao used to write them too.

Su Xingjie flipped through her books and pulled out the notes tucked inside.

【Let's not go home tonight. Let's go find Song Xiaore. I brought twenty yuan—we'll buy candied hawthorn and eat while we wait.】

【Hungry? Tomorrow we'll just share a bowl of ramen.】

【Hehe, on my birthday Dad said he'd halve my allowance, so we can buy cream puffs and strawberries together.】

【Did you have your secondary differentiation? You're really an omega? That's amazing! You're the cutest, sweetest-smelling omega I've ever seen.】

【Let me copy your homework. Can you do it for me? I'll buy you candy. Just this once. I'll do it myself next time.】

【Want some spicy strips? You put in fifty cents, I put in fifty, and we'll pool together to get one.】

Back then, Yan Qingqiu didn't attend a fancy private school. Yan Fu shared the same view as the Song family—private schools bred too much comparison, twisting values without you noticing. So they simply picked the best public schools. Other interests followed their hobbies. Song Qingre was a sharp student, excelling anywhere, but Yan Qingqiu was terrible at math. During the time they knew each other, Yan Qingqiu would always pull out a pile of one-yuan notes, counting them one by one, asking Su Xingjie to calculate how she'd spent it all. Su Xingjie was fast with numbers.

At the time, Su Xingjie's mother hadn't remarried yet and would push a cart selling fried snacks. Yan Qingqiu always had so much loose change that Su Xingjie assumed Yan Qingqiu's family sold the same stuff.

Later, when she went to Yan Qingqiu's house to play, she learned the family was wealthy, but Yan Qingqiu never looked down on anyone. She'd always say, "That's my dad's money. I'm broke. Every time I ask my dad for ten yuan, and once it's gone, I have to go ask Little Re for money."

Ah, if only my dad would increase my allowance.

Su Xingjie had no allowance at all. Her daily snack was one egg. Her mother sold fried goods, but Su Xingjie rarely ate them. Classmates would sometimes buy and mock her: "Su Xingjie, your family sells this stuff?" Su Xingjie didn't mind helping her mother, but back then she had pride and felt embarrassed.

Playing with Qiu Bao was different. Qiu Bao would buy her mother's goods, and they'd share. On weekends, she'd come to Su Xingjie's house and even help her mother make the skewers. The happiest part was when Qiu Bao brought her home, and Uncle was thrilled, saying she'd made a friend, and raised her allowance to a hundred yuan a week. Then they could buy from the neighboring stalls.

In those days, her childhood was forever helping her mother skewer fried goods. But because she knew Yan Qingqiu, and Yan Qingqiu would help with the work when she came to play, what once took a whole day became half a day of play. Her mother was too busy to pay her much attention, so her daily snack was that egg. She'd share it with Yan Qingqiu. Worried they'd get tired of it, her mother sometimes fried it and coated it in sauce. She remembered clearly that the egg sold out famously well.

Junior high three years were wonderful.

At first, she didn't know Song Qingre, only that teachers praised a very smart senior named Song Qingre.

Once, during evening self-study, Yan Qingqiu took her to meet Song Qingre mysteriously.

That was when she learned Yan Qingqiu knew Song Qingre—the senior who always gave speeches on the stage.

The senior also met them secretively, playing along with their childishness. They'd eat at their secret base, and Yan Qingqiu would sheepishly admit she'd scored 20 on her math test and have Song Qingre forge a parent's signature.

She also understood why such a beautiful, clean person as the senior would bring friends to buy fried skewers—it was because of Qiu Bao, and because the senior was friends with her.

Yan Qingqiu was irreplaceable to her.

Soon after, Su Xingjie's mother stopped selling fried goods. She remarried and had another child, so she no longer made skewers like before—the new child didn't like eggs and she wouldn't bother making them. Fortunately, she still had Qiu Bao, who said she'd always stay by her side.

Su Xingjie didn't actually like eggs; she just didn't want to let her mother down and always brought one to school. After meeting Yan Qingqiu, she gave it to her, and Qiu Bao would eat it, letting Su Xingjie accept her kindness without guilt.

She often felt she must have been hit by a meteor to be friends with Yan Qingqiu.

Su Xingjie was indeed hungry, so she ate a small portion and dozed off again. She'd planned to reheat the rest after waking, but at four in the afternoon, her phone rang.

It was the secretary, again about Fu Sang. Fu Sang's lawyer said Fu Sang wanted to see her; if Su Xingjie refused, she wouldn't mind leaking more info, and whatever happened would be on Su Xingjie's head.

Su Xingjie had rested and regained her composure. She hummed in agreement, saying she'd go over later.

··

When she arrived, she ran into Yan Qingqiu. The police had called Yan Qingqiu in as a witness to recount the events of that day, because Fu Sang refused to admit it was attempted murder.

Fu Sang wasn't detained. She claimed she'd been angry that day and just sideswiped the car; she could pay for the damage in full. She even defended herself, saying if she'd wanted Yan Qingqiu dead, she would have rammed straight into her, not grazed past the side.

Yan Qingqiu had come alone. Seeing Su Xingjie, she stood up at once. Fu Sang sat still, scanning her, a slight raise of her brow.

Su Xingjie was wearing sunglasses. She'd drunk too much the night before and slept in the bathtub, leaving her face somewhat puffy.

She sat down and said, "I thought I'd made myself clear. We'll settle this in court. If you insist on meeting me here, I'll only add another charge to your name: harassment."

Fu Sang said flatly, "In the summer of senior year, on the school field, you made a vow to me. Remember?"

Su Xingjie said nothing, but her fingers twitched slightly. Fu Sang caught the detail and smiled. "You remember. You remember very clearly." She then looked at Yan Qingqiu, whose expression flickered. She didn't know about this, but wasn't Fu Sang studying abroad? That theory was getting closer...

Su Xingjie's hand tightened.

Fu Sang said, "Fine if you don't take me out. I'll wait for someone to bail me. But I hope you won't regret this."

Su Xingjie asked, "Is that all you wanted to say?"

Fu Sang nodded. Su Xingjie rose to leave the room.

"Why won't you side with me?" Fu Sang said, looking at her. "You should be on my side."

There was even a hint of smugness in her tone. "If you're not on my side now, you'll regret it sooner or later. I guarantee it."

Yan Qingqiu felt a pang of guilt and tugged at Su Xingjie. "Xingxing, ignore her. Let's go."

"Feeling flustered?" Fu Sang deliberately raised her voice, calling her name. "Yan—Qing—qiu."

Yan Qingqiu swallowed hard and pulled Su Xingjie again. "Let's go."

"Su Xingjie, let's talk." Fu Sang said.

Su Xingjie glanced at Yan Qingqiu beside her. Yan Qingqiu's panic was obvious; she bit her lip. Even with sunglasses on, Su Xingjie could read her expression. Yan Qingqiu was terrified inside, full of regret—if only she'd been bold enough to explain things clearly...

But it was too late now. If Fu Sang explained, she'd... Fu Sang didn't give her time to think and said, "That summer, you told me you'd never like women in this life, that you'd obey me forever, that you'd never like..."

"Talk." Su Xingjie pulled her hand free and patted Yan Qingqiu's shoulder. "Wait outside for me."

Yan Qingqiu stood for a few seconds, knowing she couldn't stop it. She walked out step by step, biting her lip, forcing a smile. "I'll wait for you on the steps."

Outside, she saw Song Qingre.

Song Qingre had arrived at some point, but she hadn't gone in. She looked at Yan Qingqiu gently and waved at her. "Come here."

Yan Qingqiu couldn't hold back—her nose stung. She didn't know what to do. Was she about to be exposed? The only person she could cling to now was Song Qingre. She rushed over, "Song Qingre, I..." The words wouldn't come; the game's mechanics wouldn't let her say them.

Inside, only Fu Sang and Su Xingjie remained. Fu Sang sat in the chair, crossing her legs. "You've already guessed who I am, haven't you?"

Su Xingjie wore her sunglasses, her expression unreadable.

Fu Sang didn't hear a response and raised her voice. "Do you know who I am!"

Su Xingjie spoke. "You're Fu Sang."

"I'm your best friend." Fu Sang bit the last two words hard, as a reminder. A smile was on her face as she tilted it up, showing features that bore a resemblance.

She didn't say it outright, deliberately to instill fear.

Su Xingjie stared at her.

Her eyes behind the dark lenses were wide open, blinking after a few seconds.

Fu Sang's words had stung her, but Su Xingjie quickly regained composure. She sat down. "No, you're not. You're not worthy. Don't think a little plastic surgery makes you her. You're a fake."

Su Xingjie shot her a glance. Her features did resemble Yan Qingqiu's. They'd all compared before, and up close, Su Xingjie saw it clearly—especially the slightly upturned eyes, lively, like a little fox. But "little fox" could only describe Qiu Bao. Fu Sang was wooden.

Fu Sang was shocked. This wasn't what she'd expected. She walked straight over to face Su Xingjie. "Look closer."

"Don't think that just because you look a bit like Qiu Bao, I'll think more of you. If you didn't look like her, tell me... what would be special about you?" Su Xingjie narrowed her eyes, then, in a moment of realization, "No wonder I decided to promote you back then. It was because you looked like Qiu Bao."

"I only look like Yan Qingqiu?" Fu Sang was incredulous. She was nearly a head taller, leaning over to look at Su Xingjie. "Look very carefully. Do I only look like her?"

"What, are you my Qiu Bao?" Su Xingjie crossed her long legs, her tone icy. "I know you want back into the company."

Fu Sang froze. Su Xingjie's words felt like a slap across her face. "Fu Sang, you disgust me."

"Do you know who I am?" Fu Sang asked, thinking maybe her hints weren't obvious enough. She softened her voice. "I am..."

But Su Xingjie didn't want to hear it. "Who you are doesn't matter to me. What matters is that you disgust me. Disgust me."

Fu Sang thought she must have been recognized. But why, when she'd been recognized, did her chest ache so much? Why did Su Xingjie have to say such cutting words?

"Do you remember..."

"I do." Su Xingjie smiled, then her thin lips spat out mockery. "How could I forget? You played me for a fool, ran off my company's model, ran off my designer. Fu Sang, honestly, that face of yours is probably the most fitting thing about you."

Su Xingjie didn't care at all who she was.

Fu Sang was convinced she'd recognize her, convinced she'd side with her. She thought a moment, then reached out and snatched Su Xingjie's sunglasses. And indeed, Su Xingjie's eyes were red and swollen. She just hadn't wanted to admit it. Fu Sang was ecstatic.

But something was different.

Fu Sang's words became halting. "Can't you see... that I'm... or are you pretending not to know?"

Su Xingjie looked at her with red-rimmed eyes, anger in her voice. "All I know is that out there is Qiu Bao. She's the one who wouldn't make me swear. When she swore, she didn't humiliate me, call me a pervert, make me sick..."

Su Xingjie gave no room, always speaking first with sarcasm. "Don't tell me that just because you got plastic surgery, you're my Qiu Bao. You're 1.8 meters tall. She's 1.75."

"Explain to me. How could you possibly be her?"

Fu Sang choked. "I..."

Su Xingjie sneered.

I once foolishly believed I could protect someone. But I overestimated myself, not knowing the weight of protecting a person.

And I never realized that I'd always been the one being protected—I'd always overestimated myself.

So I could only indulge her, cater to her.

I thought I'd done well, but the mere thought of returning to those days now terrifies me.

This once has fully scared me, leaving an indelible trauma.

Now... she couldn't do it again.

Fu Sang said, "Xingjie, it's me..." She tried to jog more memories, but Su Xingjie didn't want to hear them.

"You truly disgust me. Don't try to replace her." Su Xingjie thought for a moment, looking at her face, and said what she wanted to say. "You make me sick. You're the fake."

She dropped a piece of paper on the floor. "Now kneel down, pick it up with your mouth, crawl over like a dog, and apologize to Qiu Bao for ramming into her. Then I might, just barely... treat you like a person."

The blank white paper landed at Fu Sang's feet—a decisive humiliation.

Su Xingjie looked at Fu Sang, who towered above, wearing Qiu Bao's face, like a grotesque mimic. She couldn't help but do what Qiu Bao had once taught her—something childish.

"Pfft."