Chapter 8

Jing Ming was silent for a long moment, sure he’d misheard. “What?”
Ming Yi: “Aren’t you going out with friends? Xiao Ruo hardly knows anyone here, take her with you.”
Jing Ming’s brows pulled together. He was about to protest, but Du Ruo quickly waved her hands. “Auntie, that’s okay, I was just about to head back to school anyway, ”
“You still have a whole day of break left, what’s the rush?” Ming Yi said, looking at her son in that don’t-even-think-about-it tone. “Your dad and you both disappear during holidays. Xiao Ruo’s been keeping me company this whole time. It’s only right that you take her out for a little fun too.”
Jing Ming raised an eyebrow, glanced at Du Ruo, and, shockingly, didn’t say a word. He looked too lazy to argue, and just went back to scrolling on his phone.
Ming Yi was satisfied. She grinned at Du Ruo. “Go change into something cute.”
She really didn’t want to go!
But if she refused now, she’d just seem impossible, so Du Ruo swallowed her nerves and went to the guest room, randomly picking an outfit from the new clothes they’d bought earlier in the week.
She walked back to the living room and said to the guy sprawled on the sofa, “I’m ready.”
Jing Ming was playing a game on his phone. He lifted his eyes and his gaze lingered on her for a beat.
Du Ruo was wearing a plain white T-shirt under a pair of dark denim overalls.
At a glance, he could tell it was something his mom had bought her. Clothes make the person, she really did look different now.
He put down his phone, grabbed the car keys off the coffee table, and headed for the door.
Du Ruo called out, “Uncle, Auntie, I’m heading out.”
“Have fun, okay?”
She hurried after him.
Jing Ming was not the type to wait for anyone.
He got into a blue convertible and Du Ruo climbed in after him, buckling her seatbelt, seriously wondering how many cars his family actually owned.
For all the snark the Jing couple tossed his way, they spoiled him absolutely rotten.
Halfway there, Jing Ming’s phone rang. He popped in a Bluetooth earpiece. “I’m on my way, just give me a sec.”
Whatever the person on the other end said, Jing Ming’s face darkened for a second, slightly annoyed. “Who’s your sarcasm for again? ...My mom didn’t say a thing. And is this whole ‘jealous bestie’ talk ever going to get old?”
The other person immediately backed down, and his expression softened again, soon their conversation was back to normal banter.
“Spent a few days diving, finally got some color,” the dude complained about his tan. “Except it’s barely noticeable. Ugh.”
“Took a fourteen-hour flight home, and didn’t even make it two hours before you called me out. And you say I don’t value our friendship? ...I’m taking the siblings to Palau for winter break, this trip was all about keeping my promise to them.”
It was only then that Du Ruo realized the voice on the other end belonged to Min Enzhu.
He turned the steering wheel, taking the corner with a crooked smile, a hint of mischief in his voice. “Oh, really? Guess I’ll have to see for myself. Alright, hanging up now.”
On either side of the road, the CBD skyscrapers glittered brilliantly. The traffic rolled by in endless streams, red taillights floating down the street like lanterns adrift in a river.
Jing Ming spoke up, “When we get home, if my mom asks, don’t mention running into Min Enzhu, alright?”
Du Ruo was still gazing at the city’s nightscape. It took her a few seconds to realize he was talking to her. She turned around, “Huh?”
Jing Ming assumed she didn’t know who Min Enzhu was. “Min Enzhu. My girlfriend.”
“Oh, right. I know.” Du Ruo nodded.
“If my mom asks, don’t tell her you saw her at school either.”
“...” She nodded again, a bit guilty.
Jing Ming brought Du Ruo into a private KTV suite, lavishly decorated to the last glittering detail.
A handsome attendant bowed, leading the two inside. When they entered the private room, Du Ruo saw no sign of Jing Ming’s friends, or Min Enzhu.
The room was completely empty.
Jing Ming called in a server, tapped a few things onto the tablet, handed over his credit card, and glanced back at Du Ruo. “Sit down.”
Du Ruo sat. Her denim skirt scratched against her knees, she felt a little uncomfortable.
Her heart was all over the place, trying to decode why Jing Ming had brought her here, just the two of them.
Were they... here to sing songs together?
She pictured it, then shook her head. No way.
Was Min Enzhu going to show up? Was she meant to play third wheel?
She imagined that, too, and found it even less likely.
The server left. The lighting in the suite was dim, and she could hear muffled singing from the next room over.
He stood while she sat.
They exchanged glances, you look at me, I look at you, until the awkwardness forced both eyes away.
Jing Ming glanced at the screen, walked over to the song selection console, swiped a few times, and asked, “You ever been to a KTV before?”
Du Ruo replied, “After college entrance exams, I went with my classmates once.”
Jing Ming moved his hand from the screen and turned back around. No need to show her how it worked anymore.
Du Ruo, always hyper-aware, noticed this tiny detail instantly. She was touched by his care, until, a beat later, he said, “Have fun. I’m leaving.”
She felt like she’d fallen from the clouds straight into the dirt, staring at him, not blinking.
He wouldn’t meet her gaze. “I’ve got something to do. Call some classmates over if you want. When it’s time, wait for me in the parking lot. Midnight. Don’t forget.” As he finished, the server returned with his credit card. Jing Ming grabbed it and left without a backward glance.
The enormous suite was suddenly just her and her echo.
Onscreen, girls in short skirts sang and danced, laughing in some happy, faraway world.
The A/C was fierce, sending cold air creeping up her legs.
Du Ruo sat on the sofa for a long, long time, the strange needle-like ache in her chest finally making itself known, maybe this was what people called sadness.
He hadn’t even worn his usual mask of scorn today. On the contrary, he’d actually been... civil.
She couldn’t blame him, really.
It was her fault for crashing his date.
She was nobody, why should he care about her?
He’d always treated her with casual indifference.
But still, she hadn’t even done anything wrong, so why did she feel ashamed?
She stared off into space, numb, until the door opened again. A server brought in a gigantic fruit platter and an equally gigantic plate of snacks, completely covering the table.
She snapped back to earth. “Thank you,” she said quietly.
“You’re welcome! Enjoy,” said the server, leaving a polite smile before heading out.
Glittering fruit, golden-fried chicken, fries, onion rings, the food did a little to patch the holes in her heart.
Du Ruo thought: If He Huanhuan were here, she’d be thrilled. Seriously, what good is moping alone? Since you’re here, you might as well enjoy it.
Didn’t she already swear to enjoy life?
She stretched her arms and popped a slice of kiwi in her mouth. Delicious. Then a chunk of dragonfruit. Tasty. A fry, a chicken wing, so good she could cry.
Alright, fine, she’d forgive him. At least he’d ordered this mountain of food. That counted for something.
But still, it ached.
Was she just a convenient tool? He couldn’t be bothered to deal with his mom, so he’d dragged her out to KTV as a decoy?
She was some disposable scapegoat? Did he really think a few platters of food would buy her off?
Ha!
Du Ruo tore into her food, cheeks puffed out in righteous indignation, and absentmindedly pulled out the receipt from under a plate. A quick look, and her eyes nearly popped out of her head.
Private suite (deluxe): 1,008 yuan;
Fruit platter (large, premium): 588 yuan;
Snack platter (large, premium): 388 yuan.
She hurriedly shoved a handful of raspberries in her mouth for comfort, and, on her own authority, decided to see a sliver of apology hidden in those prices.
She was good at this, talking herself off a ledge, performing a little mental self-soothing. It worked, a little.
She nibbled on blueberries, popped some cherries in her mouth, and figured: Why not call her roommates and turn this into a private party?
She messaged the dorm group: “What are you guys up to?”
He Huanhuan replied with a photo, just a pile of fritter stalls on the street. She was still in Tianjin.
Qiu Yuchen: “Out in the ’burbs with my folks. There’s way too many people, I’m about to get smushed.”
Xia Nan never replied at all, probably hadn’t seen the message.
Du Ruo realized no one could make it. For a minute, she was disappointed. Then she rallied: “Come on, I’ll serenade you!”
Qiu Yuchen: “Get lost! Not listening.”
She laughed and started cueing up a mess of songs, singing while sending voice messages to the group.
Voice messages, one after another, bombarding their chat.
Didn’t matter if they listened or not, she could pretend she had an audience. It was rare she let loose like this.
After a few songs, Qiu Yuchen sent a message: “Holy crap, you actually sound good?! Go audition, genius! I’ll be your hype squad.”
He Huanhuan: “I’ll be your manager! I get commission.”
Qiu Yuchen: “Dream on!”
Du Ruo laughed so hard she nearly rolled off the couch.
Now and then, people walked past in the hallway, glancing curiously through the narrow glass, maybe wondering why the light in here was so warm and why the girl inside looked perfectly content on her own.
Du Ruo sang a little, chatted, ate, and time flew by.
But after ten, the group chat went quiet; everyone drifted off to do their own thing.
She was exhausted. Fun takes energy, after all.
The good mood faded. She turned off the backing track, curled up on the table, and listened to music.
After the night’s riot, the sudden quiet made her feel like the only survivor of some wild party, left behind with all the loneliness.
She was spent, no urge to sing, no urge to eat, just lying there with wide, empty eyes.
The speakers played a melancholy song:
“You said you were so lonely, life felt too hard,
You’d forgotten how it felt to chase happiness,
With so many burdens, you felt even less in control,
And when the music stopped, all you wanted was to dance, alone.”
Out of nowhere, a tear slipped down from the corner of her eye.
Du Ruo hurried to wipe it away, but the more she tried, the faster they came, rolling like beads off a snapped string.
A whole month’s worth of repressed exhaustion, tension, and heartache smashed loose, flooding out in an unstoppable tide. She couldn’t fight it anymore, so she just let her face sink into her arms and cried, letting it all spill out.
Du Ruo was nudged awake by someone’s hand.
“Would you like to extend your room?” asked a server.
Her mind was a fog. Dried tear-streaks pulled painfully at her skin as she checked her phone. Midnight.
“No, I’m good.” Her neck was stiff and her feet numb from napping at the table. She got up to leave, then spotted all the untouched fruit and snacks. Heart aching, she asked, “Could you box these up for me?”
The server gave her a weird look, but wordlessly went to grab some takeout boxes.
Du Ruo, clutching a paper bag, made her way down to the mall’s underground garage, wandering a bit before she found her way.
Jing Ming’s blue sports car was impossible to miss. She spotted it after only a moment of searching.
Jing Ming sat behind the wheel, arm casually draped out the open door, fingers tapping in a lazy rhythm.
Du Ruo hurried over,
But as she got close, she saw Min Enzhu in the passenger seat, clinging to Jing Ming’s side, arms around his neck, lips pouting for a kiss.
Jing Ming gave her a faint, indifferent smile, dipped his head, and pecked her lips, the briefest butterfly touch. Min Enzhu wouldn’t let him pull away, pressing closer, chasing and capturing his mouth for a deeper kiss.
Du Ruo stood there, frozen, watching as Jing Ming’s interest flared and the two grew entangled together. Min Enzhu’s breath came quicker now, her voice low and sultry.
Du Ruo’s face flamed just listening; she ducked behind a concrete pillar, heart battering against her ribs like it wanted out.
Before she could catch her breath, the sports car’s engine roared to life.
She panicked, her instinct said run, but she couldn’t make herself move.
Not until the car pulled away into the distance did she dare peek out again, catching a flash of red taillights darting around the corner, then nothing.
He’d forgotten she was still here.
He’d made a show of telling her to wait, to come down at midnight for a ride home.
Liar.
Leaving the mall, the chill night wind swept over her, ballooning her shirt, her skirt, and the paper bag in her hand.
The northern wind was biting; she wasn’t used to it. Just a few steps and she could feel her spirits sag in the cold.
Drifting ghost-like, she found her way to the subway, already closed for the night.
Taxi? Too expensive.
She pulled up directions on her phone and started walking, following the route through the empty, midnight streets.
The CBD skyscrapers the apartment blocks, every window above had already gone dark.
There was no one on the street, just the yellow glow of streetlights.
Wide avenues, silent overpasses, cars blasting past from time to time.
This city was so overwhelming, so big there wasn’t a single corner that felt like hers.
Somewhere along the way, her tears started falling again and wouldn’t stop.
In the pocket of her pinafore dress, her phone buzzed. Through blurry eyes, she saw the name “Jing Ming” glowing on the screen.
She slammed her finger onto the red button, seething with rage, and hung up!
“Screw you!”
But who could hear that roar?
Clutching her phone, tears streamed relentlessly down her cheeks. She dropped to a squat on the curb, sobbing into her hands.