The days that followed settled into an unexpected rhythm.
Li Xinyi found herself falling into a steady routine—going to school, coming back home, and filling the quiet spaces with small tasks. She wasn’t used to this kind of life, where she had a place that actually felt like hers, where she could walk around without tiptoeing or bracing for passive-aggressive remarks. The emptiness of the house didn’t suffocate her the way her parents’ house did.
Whenever Zhao Chen and Li Jun weren’t busy with their university classes, they would drop by, sometimes taking turns cooking and cleaning, sometimes just making sure she wasn’t alone for too long. They had fallen into a strange sort of balance, one where none of them spoke openly about the situation but all silently agreed to care for each other in their own ways.
Xinyi, still hesitant about fully relying on them, tried to make herself useful. She experimented with new recipes, some turning out surprisingly well, others ending in complete disasters that had Zhao Chen and Li Jun teasing her mercilessly. But despite their laughter, neither of them ever let her feel bad about it. They ate everything she made, good or bad, without complaint.
For the first time in a long time, she felt like she belonged somewhere.
One evening, all three of them were seated at the dining table, each busy with their own assignments. Zhao Chen was focused on a thick textbook, occasionally scribbling notes while sipping his coffee. Li Jun was typing furiously on his laptop, frustration evident on his face. Xinyi, meanwhile, was flipping through her school notes, though her attention kept drifting elsewhere.
The atmosphere was calm, filled only with the soft rustling of pages and the tapping of keyboards. That was until the doorbell rang.
The sound cut through the quiet, making them all pause.
They exchanged glances. None of them had invited anyone over.
Li Jun frowned, pushing his chair back. “Who could that be?”
Xinyi shrugged, looking at Zhao Chen, but he merely sighed and continued reading as if uninterested. With a resigned sigh, Li Jun stood up to check.
A few seconds later, silence.
Then—
A sudden commotion.
The sharp sound of heels clicking against the floor.
Before anyone could react, a girl barged through the entrance, pushing past Li Jun as if he weren’t even there.
She made a beeline straight to Zhao Chen.
“Zhao Chen!” she practically purred, her voice saccharine and cloying. “I missed you so much!”
She moved in to hug him, arms outstretched, eyes gleaming with expectation.
But Zhao Chen was faster.
He stood abruptly, stepping away before she could touch him. His expression, normally so unreadable, darkened into something cold and unwelcoming.
Xinyi blinked, completely thrown off.
She had never seen him look so… hostile.
The air in the room shifted, growing heavy with tension.
Li Jun, who had followed the girl back inside, leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. He didn’t seem surprised—if anything, he looked resigned.
Xinyi, on the other hand, felt a strange tightness in her chest as she stared at the unfamiliar girl. She was undeniably beautiful, with perfect makeup, designer clothes, and an air of effortless confidence.
For some reason, that irritated her.
But she pushed that feeling away, telling herself it was just confusion.
Zhao Chen’s voice was calm, but there was an edge to it.
“What are you doing here?”
The girl pouted, tilting her head like she was playing innocent. “Is that any way to greet me? I just wanted to see you. It’s been so long—”
“You shouldn’t have come,” Zhao Chen cut her off, his tone sharp enough to make even Xinyi flinch.
The girl faltered, her smile wavering. “Zhao Chen, don’t be like that. I—”
“I don’t owe you anything,” he said, his voice quieter now, but somehow even more terrifying. “You have no reason to be here.”
Xinyi swallowed.
She had never heard him sound like that before.
Cold. Detached.
Not the usual cool and teasing Zhao Chen she was used to, but someone completely different.
Li Jun finally spoke, his voice laced with disgust. “You have some nerve showing up here.”
The girl turned to him, her confident facade cracking slightly. “This has nothing to do with you, Li Jun.”
“It has everything to do with me,” he shot back. “You’re the one who ruined him.”
Xinyi’s eyes widened.
Ruined?
She turned back to Zhao Chen, but his expression didn’t change.
The girl bit her lip, clearly thrown off by the hostility in the room. “I just wanted to talk to him—”
“You lost that right a long time ago,” Zhao Chen said.
For a moment, the girl hesitated, then let out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. I get it.” She took a step back, her expression unreadable. “But one day, you’re going to regret pushing me away.”
Zhao Chen didn’t even blink.
The girl lingered for a second longer before finally turning on her heel and walking out, the sound of her heels fading into the distance.
As soon as the door shut behind her, silence filled the room again.
Xinyi looked at Zhao Chen, but he simply sat back down, his face void of emotion.
Li Jun, however, was still glaring at the door. “Unbelievable,” he muttered. “She really had the guts to come back after everything.”
Xinyi hesitated before asking, “Who was she?”
Neither of them answered right away.
Then Zhao Chen let out a slow breath, rubbing his temples. “No one important.”
Li Jun scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”
Xinyi frowned, unsatisfied with the vague answer, but it was clear Zhao Chen wasn’t in the mood to talk about it.
Instead, he looked at her, his expression softening just slightly. “Sorry about that. Let’s just forget it happened.”
Forget it?
How could she?
There was too much left unsaid.
But for now, she nodded. “Okay.”
Still, as she watched him go back to his textbook as if nothing had happened, a thought nagged at her.
Who was that girl?
And more importantly—
What had she done to Zhao Chen?