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Chapter 19 – The One I Most Want to See Is Like…

Que Wanshu couldn’t fall asleep.

She had always been a good sleeper—usually able to fall asleep within five minutes of closing her eyes and rarely suffering from insomnia, typically sleeping soundly through the night.

But tonight was different. She went to bed at 10:30, yet tossed and turned for nearly an hour without dozing off. In the end, her stomach began to feel a little hungry, so she got up to eat something.

She made a simple bowl of tomato and egg noodles, but whether it was because she misjudged the amount or had indigestion, after finishing the whole bowl she felt uncomfortably full. She figured she should walk it off.

So she grabbed her phone and headed downstairs for a walk around the neighborhood.

Unexpectedly, as soon as she stepped out, she ran into the security guard on duty that night in the community garden. The guard nodded at her and asked with a smile, “Heading out?”

Wanshu instinctively nodded, only to hear him add, “It’s late—stay safe out there.”

“Okay,” she nodded again. But after walking past him, she realized—what had she just done?

She hadn’t planned to go out at all, just to walk around the small garden to digest. But now it would be awkward to turn back, so she braced herself and walked out of the complex.

“…Now where should I even go?”

Standing on the empty roadside, Wanshu sighed helplessly.

She knew it was silly—she could have just corrected herself. Why did she have to go along with a mistake just to avoid some awkwardness? The guard wouldn’t have laughed at her… right?

She understood all this logically, but her body had acted on its own. So, she started walking toward a convenience store nearby, pretending she had gone out to buy yogurt.

Near the “Greenview” residential community was a small river named Yuechuan, which flowed down from Mount Yun and ran through Zicheng. The name came from the river’s crescent shape—when viewed from above, it resembled a moon.

The nearest convenience store was right by the Yuechuan river. Wanshu bought a strawberry yogurt, then walked along the riverside on her way back.

There was also a river near her old home in Yi’an. The people of Yi’an had long lived by the water, with many local industries and traditions tied to the river. Though the city’s center had shifted over the years, the riverside old town remained the true heart of Yi’an for many locals.

Wanshu’s home with her mother was within walking distance of the river. She loved that river; just watching its flow would bring her spirit peace. Whenever she felt down, she would take walks along its banks.

After moving to Zicheng, she deliberately chose to live near the river—even giving up more affordable apartments closer to the hospital—just to be near water again.

After walking a while along Yuechuan, she finished her yogurt and tossed the bottle into a public trash bin. Then she sat down on a riverside bench and stared at the dark water.

Closing her eyes, she felt the noise of the world gradually fade away. The soft sound of flowing water eased into her ears, gently washing away the gloom that had lingered in her heart these past few days.

After a while, she opened her eyes and took out her phone.

In her contacts, there was a category called “Tipsy.” Anyone else would think it was a list of bars—but in fact, all six numbers belonged to the same person.

She quietly stared at the names “Tipsy 1” through “Tipsy 6” in the list and let out a long sigh.

Yes, those were all numbers Wei Xun had once texted her from—numbers she had blocked, but not deleted. Even after changing phones multiple times, she always saved them.

If Wei Xun were to call from any of those numbers now, he would find that they all could go through. She had unblocked them long ago.

Wanshu felt dazed, suddenly remembering that day when Wei Xun discovered she hadn’t changed her number. He had angrily confronted her—and in his furious expression, she saw not just anger, but sorrow.

He might not have realized it, but she had seen it: the furrowed brow, the tightly pressed lips, the eyes that tried to appear indifferent but were filled with hurt—and finally, his back retreating in silent fury.

She knew she owed him an explanation. Maybe even an apology for the abrupt end to their relationship. But there were too many tangled memories—too many threads to pull—and she didn’t know how or where to start.

The “neighbor boy” she mentioned to him did exist. His name was Lu Ze. His mother, Fang Liqin, used to work as a nanny in the Que household and was close to Wanshu’s mother, Meng Ruyi.

Fang had a husband who seemed charming in public but was abusive when drunk. She endured it for the kids’ sake—until Meng Ruyi discovered her bruises and hired a lawyer to help her divorce and win custody.

After the divorce, Fang returned to Yi’an with her children. Meng Ruyi asked her sister Meng Ruxin, who also lived there, to help look after them.

Years later, when Que Wanshu and her ailing mother moved back to Yi’an after their family went bankrupt, they happened to move into the same apartment complex—Fang and her children lived just one floor below.

Meng Ruyi, who had suffered a stroke and lost the ability to speak, was emotionally unstable. Wanshu was overwhelmed—and without Fang’s help, she didn’t think she could’ve made it through.

At that time, Lu Ze was in his first year of high school and happened to be in the same class as Wanshu’s cousin Fan Che. His younger sister Lu Xuan was in ninth grade. To repay Fang, Wanshu offered to tutor the siblings, along with her cousin.

Though she was an only child, Wanshu was dependable and kind—everyone saw her as an older sister figure. Her aunt always joked that ever since she came to Yi’an, the world had gained two more “big sister fans.”

The day Wei Xun messaged her, she had been at her aunt’s place tutoring the kids. While she was away discussing her mother’s condition with her aunt, Lu Ze answered her phone and replied to the message—telling Wei Xun it wasn’t Wanshu’s number.

When she returned, the kids looked nervous and guilty. Lu Ze admitted what he did and took full responsibility. Fan Che jumped in, assuming she was being stalked by a creepy ex and said he’d go beat him up. Lu Xuan hugged her and tried to comfort her.

Wanshu: “…”

She looked at the message Wei Xun had sent:

“Que Wanshu, if you don’t reply to me, just see what happens. You think I’m powerless from the US?”

It wasn’t even his worst message—he always threatened her with “just wait,” or “see what happens,” but he never actually did anything. She had sometimes even found his angry texts a little… cute.

But to the kids, it looked like she was being harassed by a dangerous ex.

She reassured them that she would handle it and told them not to tell any adults.

The lie Lu Ze told was a flimsy one. If Wei Xun had checked, he’d know her number hadn’t changed.

She thought maybe he had been angry or disheartened after that. She had wanted to explain, but deep down, she didn’t want him to stay stuck in the past. She had made the selfish decision to end things for her and her parents—and she believed she didn’t deserve to disturb his life again.

But the day he asked about her phone number, she realized he had truly believed Lu Ze’s lie and had never checked.

She hadn’t stayed silent because she didn’t want to explain—but because she didn’t know how. Would her explanation bring him peace, or more pain?

Everything between them had become a tangled mess—like a ball of knotted yarn. Faced with him, she had panicked, unable to speak.

And now, she stared at his number again, typing and deleting messages, over and over—never hitting send.

The wind picked up along the river. She was only wearing a light sweater and thin pants, her feet in slippers. After a while, her hands and feet went numb, her back shivering.

It was probably past midnight, and she had a morning meeting tomorrow. She stood, put her phone away, and walked back toward the Greenview community.

But just as she reached the gate—the person she most wanted to see appeared like a dream.

“Wei Xun?”

As she said his name, a tight ache bloomed in her throat. Her voice trembled slightly:

“Why are you here?”

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