Chapter 73

Our Discord Server: https://discord.gg/PazjBDkTmW

From the bathroom to the bedroom.

Yu Shuyan knelt on the bed. Scalding tears spilled uncontrollably from her eyes, falling onto the white sheets, blooming into dazzling, sorrowful flowers.

Ji Yun wrapped her arms around her from behind, gently taking hold of her hands, fingers entwined. Their palms pressed together, soft against soft. She felt the tremble running through the woman in front of her.

Leaning in close, Ji Yun whispered at her ear, “Pretty Peacock, do you really not like me?”

Yu Shuyan curled a finger into Ji Yun’s palm, her voice trembling. “Call me… by my name.”

Ji Yun grazed the tip of her ear with a playful bite. “Miss Yu… I like you in that role.”

Hot tears streamed down the corners of Yu Shuyan’s eyes. A broken, desperate sound slipped from her lips. “Big Sister… please… say my name…”

Big Sister?

Ji Yun remembered how no amount of teasing or coaxing could get her to say it last time. No matter what she tried, Yu Shuyan never backed down. But now… she was yielding?

Emotion surged through Ji Yun like a tide. She responded with fiercer, more urgent movement, expressing everything she felt without a single word.

“Yu Shuyan… Yanyan…” 

Ji Yun called her name again and again.

Yu Shuyan’s awareness began to blur, her senses slipping away. Until, through the thick fog clouding her mind, a single phrase reached her: “I like you.”

Her body reacted instinctively, arching toward the sound. Again and again—only this time, it was different. The tremor came from somewhere deeper, a shiver that echoed through her soul.

***

Night deepened. The moon hid behind a veil of clouds.

Ji Yun drew the curtains closed, dimmed the bedroom lights to their softest glow, and lay beside Yu Shuyan. Her fingers moved slowly, gently brushing through her hair in tender strokes.

She wanted to ask again—the question that still lingered without an answer. But when she saw the exhaustion in Yu Shuyan’s eyes, her heart softened. She tugged the blanket around her. “Sleep.”

Yu Shuyan opened her mouth, as if to murmur a soft “Mm,” but the sound never came. Her eyelids dropped. In the next breath, she was asleep.

But her rest was far from peaceful.

She dreamed. A terrible dream.

She was a child again. After school, she slipped away to the basketball court beside the park, clutching a basketball to her chest as she practiced shooting.

One shot after another, over and over again. Sweat soaked the ends of her hair, but she didn’t feel tired at all. 

She didn’t know how much time had passed—until a shadow fell over her from behind.

Yu Shuyan turned around and saw her father’s face—stern, furious, eyes burning with disappointment. She shrank back a little and whispered timidly, “Dad…”

Yu Guangzhi’s voice was cold. “Throw it away.”

Yu Shuyan stepped back, clutching the basketball tightly in her arms. She nearly begged, “Dad, I love playing basketball. Can I please keep learning? I promise it won’t take away from my schoolwork.”

But her words only stoked his anger further. He kicked the basketball hard, knocking it out of her arms. The force sent her small body tumbling to the ground along with it.

“What good is basketball? The only thing you should be doing right now is studying. I’ll count to three. You’re coming home with me.”

Yu Shuyan slowly got up from the ground, wiped her tears, and followed him.

The basketball was left behind, abandoned. Left to the wind, left to rot.

The scene shifted.

It was a gloomy, rainy day. Dark clouds hung low, and wind howled through the city.

The windows of the office creaked under the force of the gusts outside.

Yu Shuyan stood inside with another girl—single eyelid, high ponytail. Both faced the fury of their homeroom teacher and Yu Guangzhi. 

“Yu Shuyan, what happened to your grades lately? Why are they dropping so badly? And you, Han Xiao—what are you two always doing together?” The teacher’s voice was sharp. “Do you realize how much this is affecting Yu Shuyan’s studies?”

Yu Guangzhi, who had been silent until now, suddenly stood up. He shot Han Xiao a cold, disdainful glance. “Even if Han Xiao tried her best, she still wouldn’t get into a top high school.”

“Director Yu, what do you mean by that?”

“Instead of wasting time, she might as well drop out and go to a vocational school. Learn a trade.”

It wasn’t a suggestion. The way he said it made it clear—he had already made the decision for her.

Han Xiao slung her heavy backpack over her shoulder and bolted into the downpour without a word or glance back.

Yu Shuyan stumbled after her. “Xiaoxiao…”

Han Xiao turned around. Her eyes burned with betrayal and anger. “I really regret ever being friends with you.”

“Xiaoxiao, don’t go… I’m sorry…”

Yu Shuyan woke with a jolt, gasping for air. She raised a hand to her cheek and felt the cold wetness there.

The same dream. Again.

The scenes from her memory replayed vividly, overlapping completely with the dream she’d just had.

Yu Shuyan bit her lip hard, letting the tears slip quietly down her cheeks. 

When had it started—this fear of saying she liked something? And when did she begin locking herself away so tightly?

Was it the moment that basketball was kicked aside? Or was it the guilt she carried over her best friend?

Why did the world keep taking her “likes” away from her? She had done enough. Hadn’t she?

She looked at Ji Yun’s back beside her and whispered in her heart, I’m sorry. I still don’t have the courage to take that step.

She had resisted before. Twice.

The first time was because of Han Xiao.

She and Yu Guangzhi had a fierce argument. “You have no right to make decisions for Han Xiao! She’s my best friend! Don’t you understand that? I hate you!”

His response had been screaming—followed by fists and kicks.

“Is that how you speak to your father? You think I won’t say anything? Me—a director of the education bureau—and my daughter’s grades are this pathetic? I’m already the butt of everyone’s jokes! You may not care about your face, but I care about mine!”

That first act of rebellion had cost her a broken leg.

Yu Shuyan pulled herself from the memory. So then… When was the second time?

It must have been after college, when she tried to escape the life that had drained her sense of self. She started wearing heavy makeup, revealing clothes. She drifted through nightlife—chasing pleasure, numbing herself with alcohol and empty thrills.

But that kind of life, so far removed from the values she was raised with, was just another deep pit. Another trap. Over time, the pain dulled. She grew numb. She got used to it.

Then Ji Yun appeared—like a sudden, unexpected flame. Warm and bright.

A fire that effortlessly tore a hole through the numbness around her heart.

The moment Ji Yun placed her hand on Yu Shuyan’s chest, her heart had almost burst out of her ribs. In all her 27 years, she had never felt anything like that.

So alive. So stirred.

Without thinking, she leaned toward that warmth. Her hand found its way around Ji Yun’s waist.

In the dark, Ji Yun opened her eyes. “Truth is… you do like me, don’t you?”

The sudden voice startled Yu Shuyan so much she nearly cried out. When she realized what had happened, her instinct was to flee. She pulled her hand back quickly, threw off the covers, and climbed out of bed. “It’s morning…”

Ji Yun’s voice cut through her escape. “Are you planning to leave me behind again this time?”

Yu Shuyan stood with her back to her, biting down hard on her lower lip.

“Yu Shuyan, why are you running away?” Ji Yun’s voice trembled now, wounded but firm. “You clearly like me!”

Yu Shuyan raised her hand and bit into it, hard. Her teeth broke the skin. Blood welled up. She forced herself to harden. Without a word, she grabbed her clothes from the sofa and started dressing.

Ji Yun still lay facing away, but somehow, it felt like she could see every movement Yu Shuyan made.

“Those are dirty,” Ji Yun said quietly. “Grab something clean from the closet. You can wear mine.”

Yu Shuyan froze for a moment, then mumbled, “Thanks… I’ll return it next time.”

“No need,” Ji Yun replied. “I meant—you don’t have to return it.” 

There won’t be a next time.

“You can go. I, Ji Yun, know when to hold on and when to let go. I’m not the clingy type.”

“I’m sorry.”

Yu Shuyan’s voice cracked with guilt. Her cowardice didn’t deserve a love this bold, this unashamed. She forced the apology out, then fled the apartment in a rush.

She walked a long way before her knees gave out. Crouching by the roadside, she buried her face in her hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

***

After leaving Ji Yun’s place, Yu Shuyan returned to the teachers’ dorm. She quickly tidied herself up, grabbed her lesson plan, and headed out for class.

The English teacher passed by and called out, “Miss Yu.”

Yu Shuyan kept her head down and walked on as if she hadn’t heard.

The English teacher caught up and tapped her shoulder. “Miss Yu.”

Yu Shuyan turned back a beat late, looking dazed. “What is it?”

The teacher studied the dark circles under her eyes, concern written all over her face. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Yu Shuyan nodded toward the classrooms. “If there’s nothing else, I should head to class.”

“Wait—” the English teacher stopped her gently. “The principal wants to see you in the office. Oh, and… it might be about Wang Yang’s parents.”

Yu Shuyan gave a faint smile. “Got it. Thanks.”

She turned and made her way to the principal’s office.

Knock knock knock.

“Come in.”

Yu Shuyan pushed the door open.

“Ah, Xiao Yu, come in. Have a seat.”

“If there’s something you need to say, please go ahead,” Yu Shuyan said, glancing at her watch. “Class starts in five minutes.”

The principal gave a small, measured smile. “It’s about Wang Yang’s parents again. They filed a complaint about you to the education bureau yesterday. Don’t worry, and don’t get upset. We’ll sort this out. For now, take a few days off, get some rest, and try to relax…”

Yu Shuyan understood immediately.

A temporary suspension.

The principal kept trying to soothe her, but Yu Shuyan had already stopped listening.

She thought, Maybe a break isn’t so bad. At least it would give her time—time for that person’s shadow to fade.

Leaving the office, she went straight back to the teachers’ dorm. She hauled in a case of alcohol and locked herself in her apartment.

For two full days, she didn’t step outside once.

But the person she was trying to forget… didn’t fade. Instead, she surfaced constantly in her mind—over and over again, even barging into her dreams like she owned them.

Yu Shuyan didn’t know what was wrong with her. She only felt a mess inside, a chaotic storm she couldn’t quiet.

By noon on the third day, she returned home.

There was only one reason: Yu Guangzhi had called to tell her that her mother was sick.

When it came to her mother, Yu Shuyan still had some lingering affection. After all, aside from obeying Yu Guangzhi, she had always shown some care—at least when it came to food and clothing, she’d never let her daughter go without.

Yu Shuyan opened the front door, slipped into her house slippers, and carried the tonic supplements into the living room.

Her voice was flat. “Dad, Mom. I’m home.”

From the sofa, Yu Guangzhi slapped the newspaper down onto the table with a loud thud. “So your wings have finally hardened, huh? How many days has it been since you came home?”

“Mm.” Yu Shuyan responded faintly. “I’ll go help Mom.”

Without looking at his darkened expression, she turned and walked straight into the kitchen.

“Mom, how are you feeling?”

The thin woman in front of the stove turned at the sound of her voice, the spatula still in her hand. Her complexion was pale, almost sickly. She let out two soft coughs before smiling. “Yanyan, you’re back?”

“I’m fine. Just had a bit of pneumonia a while ago. I’m mostly recovered now.” She turned back to the stove with a gentle hum. “Everything I’m cooking today is your favorite.”

Yu Shuyan’s face didn’t change. She simply nodded. “Okay.” She picked up a plate and carried it to the living room.

Before long, the table was full of food.

The three of them sat down together. Xu Shuzhen, her mother, quietly handed out the bowls and chopsticks. Yu Guangzhi sat sternly at the head of the table. He tapped a finger on the tabletop, signaling for Yu Shuyan to sit.

Then he turned, his gaze sharp and cold. “Before we eat, I have something to ask you.”

Yu Shuyan kept her head down, staring at her phone screen—lost in the message she’d received five minutes ago from Chi Yin.

Ji Yun was leaving.

What did that mean? Leaving where? Going to what?

She had a hundred questions trapped in her throat, but didn’t know in what capacity she had the right to ask any of them.

Yu Guangzhi, receiving no response, slammed his palm down hard on the table. “I’m talking to you. Are you deaf?”

Xu Shuzhen rushed in to calm him. “Let it go, she barely comes home as it is. Why are you so angry?”

He shoved her hand away and glared. “Shut up.”

She slowly backed off, retreating to the side, her sobs soft but audible.

Yu Shuyan switched off her phone screen and looked up. A flicker of disgust passed through her eyes. “What is it?”

“Were you suspended from school?”

Yu Shuyan picked up her chopsticks, took a bite of food, and answered flatly, “Mm.”

Rage surged in Yu Guangzhi’s eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I had to hear it from a colleague at the education bureau?”

Yu Shuyan didn’t even lift her head. “Why should I tell you?”

“You—!” Yu Guangzhi exploded, storming over and striking her hard across the face.

A crimson five-finger mark bloomed instantly on her cheek.

Did it hurt?

She couldn’t feel it. All she felt was numbness.

She let out a cold laugh, pulled a tissue from the table, dabbed the blood at the corner of her mouth, and calmly picked her chopsticks back up.

Yu Guangzhi jabbed a finger at her. “What’s that expression supposed to mean? Are you trying to rebel?”

Xu Shuzhen grabbed his arm. “Calm down, don’t lose your temper like this. Yanyan, apologize to your father.”

When Yu Shuyan remained motionless, she turned to coax Yu Guangzhi instead. “Didn’t you have something to discuss with her? Talk about that first.”

Yu Guangzhi let out a harsh grunt and sat back down. “Tomorrow, Uncle Sun’s son is coming over. You two should meet, get to know each other, build some rapport.”

Yu Shuyan froze, chopsticks mid-air. “What do you mean?”

“I’m retiring next year,” Yu Guangzhi said flatly. “If all goes well, your Uncle Sun will be promoted to full director. You and his son are both at the right age for marriage. You should get to know each other, see how things go.”

What?

In that instant, the numbness in Yu Shuyan’s chest was replaced by a crashing wave of fury. 

“No. Absolutely not.”

There was no room for compromise on this.

“Say that again!” Yu Guangzhi roared, flipping the entire table over. With a loud crash, dishes and utensils scattered across the floor. 

“I’m doing this for your future! Don’t be so ungrateful!”

Xu Shuzhen rushed in, panicked. “Yanyan, please, be good. Don’t upset your father anymore, okay?”

In that moment, Yu Shuyan’s last trace of hope in her mother was extinguished.

She had been wrong.

Wrong to cling to that fragile thread of affection. Wrong to keep compromising, again and again.

Wrong to lose herself just to maintain peace.

For the first time, she wanted—truly wanted—to escape this house forever. To escape the suffocating weight of it all. To live for herself, for real.

She grabbed her phone and ran out the door without looking back.

Behind her came Yu Guangzhi’s furious roar, followed by Xu Shuzhen’s sobs.

“If you walk out that door, don’t ever come back! I’ll just pretend I never had a daughter!”

Yu Shuyan ran forward in long strides, her face brighter than it had ever been.

Now, she had someone to chase.

Someone who had appeared again and again in her thoughts, in her dreams, over these past few days.

***

In the back of the taxi, Yu Shuyan scrolled through her contacts from top to bottom.

Only then did she realize—she didn’t even have Ji Yun’s number. 

She slowly leaned forward, her gaze unfocused. Thinking back on how they’d met, how things had unfolded… When it came down to it, her connection with Ji Yun amounted to little more than sleeping together twice.

And that night, Ji Yun had said she knew when to hold on and when to let go.

The meaning couldn’t have been clearer. She wasn’t going to look back.

So what hope did Yu Shuyan have?

She wasn’t sure of anything. Doubt crept in again, whispering at her to give up before it hurt any more. But as soon as the thought surfaced, another voice rose up inside her—louder, firmer. Telling her to be brave.

No matter what the outcome was—be brave, just once, for herself.

Yu Shuyan took a deep breath. When she looked up again, her eyes were clear and resolute.

“Mister, take me to Yunhai Apartments. And please—hurry.”

A little over ten minutes later, the taxi stopped in front of Yunhai Apartments. Yu Shuyan paid the fare, got out, and sprinted in the direction she remembered from that night.

She found Ji Yun’s place. Leaning against the wall, she took a few steadying breaths, then reached out and pressed the doorbell.

She waited. No response.

Yu Shuyan began knocking. “Ji Yun, are you there?”

Still nothing. Her anxiety spiked. She pounded harder, voice rising. “Ji Yun, open the door. Don’t hide from me! Ji Yun!”

Just then, the door next to it creaked open. An elderly woman peeked out. “Stop knocking, dear. That girl moved out yesterday. I saw her leave.”

Moved out?

Yu Shuyan slid down against the door, her body going limp.

So when Ji Yun said she was leaving… She meant for good?

The realization hit like a thousand tiny needles, pricking her chest, unraveling into a deep, quiet ache.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket—vrrr vrrr.

She fumbled it out. The moment she saw Chi Yin on the screen, a flicker of hope lit up her eyes. Her fingers trembled as she swiped to answer. 

“Hello? Ji Yun—where is she? Are you calling to tell me something about her?”

There was a two-second pause on the line before Qiao Ziman’s voice came through. “Her flight’s this afternoon.”

Yu Shuyan’s heart clenched. “Where is she going?”

“She requested a transfer,” Qiao Ziman said. “A coastal city in the south. It could be a long time before she comes back—if ever. The flight leaves in about an hour. Ji Yun’s someone who takes her feelings seriously. I’m calling you because… I didn’t want her to leave with regret. Of course, if she means nothing to you, then forget I said anything.”

Yu Shuyan gripped her phone tighter. “Thank you. I’m going after her.”

“I’ll send you the flight details.”

Yu Shuyan ran to the curb and flagged down a taxi. “Airport, please—quickly.”

Once inside, she pulled up the route and started calculating. Thirty kilometers from here to the airport… If nothing went wrong, she could still make it.

She exhaled, tension easing slightly from her shoulders. Turning to the window, she watched the scenery blur and fade past the glass. Her thoughts had already gone far ahead—straight to Ji Yun, the one who had filled her mind and dreams.

What should I say when I see her?

***

Once they left the city and turned onto the airport expressway, the speed began to drop. Then, the car came to a complete stop.

Yu Shuyan snapped out of her thoughts. “What happened?”

The driver pointed toward the sea of gridlocked traffic ahead. “Looks like there was an accident up front.”

“How far are we?”

“Less than two kilometers,” he said. “Once you turn at the intersection ahead, you’ll see the terminal.”

Yu Shuyan checked the time. Twenty minutes left. 

If she waited here, she wouldn’t make it.

She quickly scanned a hundred yuan to the driver, threw open the door, and sprinted toward the terminal. 

The heat was suffocating, the air itself like fire—nearly 40 degrees Celsius. She’d barely taken a few steps before sweat soaked through her clothes. But she pushed forward, faster than she’d ever run in her life.

Five hundred meters. A thousand.

Her legs grew heavy. Her heart pounded, ready to burst.

Still, she didn’t dare slow down. 

Finally, with just ten minutes left before takeoff, she reached the terminal. Weaving through the crowd, she searched desperately—eyes scanning every direction for a glimpse of Ji Yun.

The airport broadcast crackled to life above her head.

“Attention passengers traveling to Linhai City: Flight TM1285 is preparing for departure. If you have not yet boarded, please proceed immediately to Gate 4.”

Am I too late?

Yu Shuyan’s panic surged. She ran harder toward Gate 4, silently pleading over and over in her heart—Please let Ji Yun still be there. Please… just wait a little longer. 

Wait for me. Just a second longer. 

“Ji Yun…”

Maybe the universe was listening because, suddenly, she saw her.

Ji Yun’s figure appeared ahead, walking slowly toward the gate.

Yu Shuyan cried out with all the strength in her lungs, “Ji Yun!”

Ji Yun froze. She turned her head slowly. When she saw who it was, her eyes blinked in disbelief. She stared for a long moment, taking in the sight.

Yu Shuyan stood there, hair in disarray, chest heaving, a still-visible slap mark on her face. She looked a complete mess.

Ji Yun dug her nail into the pad of her finger, forcing herself to stay still—to resist the urge to run straight into her arms.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, voice tight. “Is this out of pity? You came to walk me to the gate one last time? Well, don’t bother. I don’t need it.”

Yu Shuyan walked toward her, one step at a time—each stride steady and sure. “Take me with you.”

“What?” Ji Yun blinked, like she hadn’t heard correctly. “What did you say?”

Yu Shuyan stopped right in front of her. Her voice was clear, every word deliberate. “I—Pretty Peacock, Miss Yu, Yu Shuyan—like you. I like Ji Yun. I want to run away with you.”

Ji Yun pressed a hand to her chest, trying to calm the wild thudding of her heart. But the smile had already crept across her lips. She tilted her head slightly and asked, “A grown woman still talking about running away?”

Yu Shuyan took her hand. “Can’t I?”

Ji Yun turned back to face her. Their eyes met, soft and full of something that had been waiting far too long. She bit down on one word. “You can.”

The airport bustled around them. Somewhere overhead, a plane roared into the sky.

But the world quieted around their embrace.

They held each other tightly. And then they kissed—a kiss drawn out and breathless, filled with everything left unsaid.

When they finally parted, fingers still intertwined, they turned together toward the gate.

Toward freedom.

As the plane headed south, rising into the clouds, they stepped into a new chapter of their lives.

One called happiness.

===

Translator’s Note:

This is the first novel I’ve finished translating. I didn’t expect to like GL so much! Thank you all for reading, and I hope you liked it!

I didn’t expect to like translating GL so much, and so! My next GL novel is The Whole World Knows She Loves Me. I hope you’ll check it out!