Chapter 3

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Chapter 3: The Ride

Jiang Liuyi and Yu Bai stepped out of the police station. Their assistant turned to Yu Bai and said, “I’ll go hail a cab.”

Yu Bai was just about to nod when Jiang Liuyi spoke up. “I drove here. I’ll take you both.”

The assistant glanced at Yu Bai’s expression. Seeing no objection, she replied politely, “Thank you, Miss Jiang.”

The three of them walked to the parking lot. Jiang Liuyi pressed her remote, and a deep gray sedan flashed its headlights. It was too dark to make out the license plate clearly. Jiang Liuyi said, “Get in.”

Yu Bai looked slightly surprised. “You changed cars?”

Jiang Liuyi used to drive a white sedan—the same one she’d bought on her twentieth birthday, with Yu Bai by her side. At the time, she had insisted she wouldn’t switch cars until it broke down completely.

And yet, in just a few short years, she had. Jiang Liuyi nodded. “My wife got me a new one.”

Yu Bai’s expression shifted ever so slightly. From the corner of her eye, she glanced at Jiang Liuyi. As they were getting in, the assistant said, “Bai Bai, you sit in the front. Miss Jiang might not know where the apartment is—you can give her directions.”

It was obvious the assistant was trying to create an opportunity for the two of them. In the past, Yu Bai would never have agreed to sit in the front seat unless Jiang Liuyi coaxed her. But glancing at Jiang Liuyi now, it was clear she had no intention of saying anything.

Yu Bai walked to the passenger side and instinctively waited for someone to open the door. Only when she saw Jiang Liuyi had already opened her own door and gotten in did she awkwardly pull open the door and climb in.

Jiang Liuyi turned slightly toward her. “Which neighborhood?”

“Binjiang,” Yu Bai replied.

Jiang Liuyi entered the address into the GPS. Yu Bai said softly, “Yi Yi, thank you for tonight.”

She had just returned to the country, and her car was hit on the road. The other driver was a thug—refused to pay damages, even tried to threaten her. It wasn’t until her assistant stepped in front of her that things didn’t escalate further.

Jiang Liuyi responded calmly, “Don’t mention it. It’s what friends do.”

Yu Bai twisted her hands together, casting a sideways glance at the driver. After two years apart, Jiang Liuyi had changed—she was quieter now. She’d never been talkative to begin with, but at least when they were together, there used to be conversation. Now, only silence remained.

And she didn’t care about her anymore. In the past, the moment they met, Jiang Liuyi would’ve asked if she was hurt. But today—until now—not a word.

Was she still angry?

Yu Bai turned to look out the window, a trace of grievance settling in her chest.

She’d originally planned to return to the country next month. But then a friend called and told her—Jiang Liuyi might be seeing someone.

That was why she came back early.

For two years, she’d been living abroad alone. And the person she missed most was Jiang Liuyi. Yet not once did she dare reach out. After all, she was the one who had walked away.

It was her friend who gave her the courage.

“Yu Bai,” the friend had said, “do you really want to spend the rest of your life like this? Think about how good Liuyi was to you. Can’t you just lower your head this once?”

Of course she could. She wanted to. She’d sent countless messages to Jiang Liuyi—none of them ever got a reply. Only later did she find out Jiang Liuyi had changed her number.

The same friend had insisted, “I’m telling you, Liuyi hasn’t forgotten you. She still cares. Last time she got drunk, she even called your name.”

Yu Bai felt the same. There were countless nights she woke from dreams with Jiang Liuyi’s name on her lips.

Her plan had been to wait until next month. Return quietly, then find a way to see Jiang Liuyi again. But then her friend sent another message:

“Liuyi’s seeing someone. And she looks a lot like you.”

“Yu Bai, we all know she hasn’t moved on. She’s just trying to find a stand-in.”

“We’ve met the girl once. Sure, she’s pretty, but there’s nothing else to her. Just some employee at a small magazine.”

“Yu Bai, Liuyi’s clearly trying to get a rise out of you,” her friend had said. “She knew you were coming back, so she rushed into a relationship just to spite you. If you keep waiting, aren’t you afraid she’ll slip away for real?”

Yu Bai had believed it. She rushed back from abroad. Who would’ve thought that her return would begin with such a mess? Still, it wasn’t entirely a bad thing. At the very least, she ended up in Jiang Liuyi’s car.

The assistant sat in the back, gazing out the window, clearly frustrated that Yu Bai remained silent. She tried to help ease the mood. “Miss Jiang is so kind. If it weren’t for her tonight, who knows how long things would’ve dragged on. Why don’t we go grab a late-night bite together?”

It was just past ten—too late for dinner, too early for a midnight snack.

Yu Bai glanced over at Jiang Liuyi and said, “That’s true. We haven’t eaten dinner yet. Let’s get something?”

In the past, the moment Jiang Liuyi heard she hadn’t eaten, she’d get flustered and immediately drag her out for food. But this time, Jiang Liuyi responded calmly, “No, my wife’s waiting at home.”

Yu Bai’s breath caught in her chest.

Her eyes reddened instantly. She turned to stare out the window, her voice low and muffled. “When did you get married?”

Jiang Liuyi’s tone remained composed. “Last month.”

Then, after a pause, she added, “We haven’t held a wedding yet. When we do, you’ll be invited.”

She had to be doing this on purpose—Yu Bai was sure of it.

Her teeth clenched tight, fingers digging into her palms until pain bloomed beneath her skin. Her eyes welled up, heat rising behind her lashes. She blinked it back, forcing herself to calm down before speaking in a level tone, “That’s nice. I heard your wife works at a magazine? What does she do there?”

Jiang Liuyi thought for a moment. The truth was, she didn’t really know what Song Xian did specifically. They had talked briefly about their jobs when they first met, but too much had happened that night. The topic had never come up again.

“She does a bit of everything.”

Yu Bai exhaled softly, visibly relieved. So she really was just some kind of assistant.

The assistant chimed in tactfully, “Bai Bai, isn’t our studio short on people?”

Yu Bai nodded and had just opened her mouth to speak when Jiang Liuyi interjected, “She likes her current job. I doubt she’d be interested.”

One sentence—clean, definitive. It shut down Yu Bai before she could say another word.

She didn’t speak again after that.

Before long, the car pulled up to the entrance of Binjiang neighborhood. The assistant got out first, tugging along the suitcase. When she saw that Yu Bai wasn’t saying anything, she took the initiative to ask, “Miss Jiang, would you like to come up for some tea?”

Yu Bai stood outside the car, taking the suitcase from her assistant herself. She’d always been delicate, coddled since childhood. Physical labor had never been expected of her. And yet, here she was, dragging her own luggage.

She was betting on one thing—that Jiang Liuyi might still care enough to stop her.

But she was destined for disappointment. Jiang Liuyi simply looked at her and the assistant with that same calm gaze, her voice colder than the night air. “No, I should get home.”

The car turned smoothly, drawing a graceful arc as it disappeared down the other side of the street.

Only when it had completely vanished did the assistant stomp her foot. “Bai Bai! I told you to let go of your pride! How are you supposed to win her back if you keep acting like this?”

Yu Bai’s eyes reddened.

Win her back? She had never needed to do that before. Her whole life, she’d always been the one pursued.

She and Jiang Liuyi had grown up together. Their families knew each other well—there were even playful jokes about arranging a childhood marriage. But later, her parents took her on the road for business. She only saw Jiang Liuyi during New Year holidays.

She had never considered that Jiang Liuyi might have feelings for her. When she was confessed to, she had just graduated from university. At the time, her heart and mind were entirely focused on painting. Even when they met, she would bring her portfolio or art books along. Jiang Liuyi never seemed to mind. She used to say Yu Bai looked most beautiful when she was focused. Yu Bai accepted her affection without question, secure in the belief that this person would love her unwaveringly.

Even when she left her, she believed it.

The opportunity to study abroad had been hard-won. So she left without hesitation. Later, a friend called her and said Jiang Liuyi had drunk herself into a gastric hemorrhage. She wanted to call. But she didn’t dare. She was afraid that just hearing Jiang Liuyi’s voice would trigger her guilt—would make her come back.

So she resisted.

And that silence stretched nearly three years.

She had always believed Jiang Liuyi would wait for her in the same place—that when they finally saw each other again, she’d pull her into a hug and say, “Welcome home.” Or maybe she’d pretend to be angry, just enough to make Yu Bai coax her a little.

But she had never imagined Jiang Liuyi would get married.

How could someone who once treated her so well… marry someone else?

Yu Bai lowered her head, a dull ache blooming in her chest. The assistant was still talking. “Bai Bai, even a clay doll has some temper. You disappeared for two, three years without a word. Of course she’s angry. Try a little harder. Don’t you remember how good she used to be to you? Don’t you want her back?”

Want her back? Of course she did. The mere thought of Jiang Liuyi being that kind, that gentle—with someone else—made her sick with jealousy.

But Jiang Liuyi wouldn’t even acknowledge her.

Yu Bai’s eyes turned red again. Her fingers tightened around the edge of her suitcase. Just then, her phone buzzed twice.

She looked down. It was a message from “Little Sister.”

[Sister-in-law, are you back in the country?]

Their love had once been loud and undeniable—so known, so certain that everyone around them, friends and family alike, had acknowledged it. Jiang Liuyi’s younger sister had called her sister-in-law for years, and even now, she hadn’t stopped.

Something in Yu Bai’s heart softened.

Yu Bai: [Mm, I’m back.]

“Little Sister”: [That’s great you’re back! When are you coming over for dinner? My mom was just saying today how successful you’ve become.]

Yu Bai had spent the past two years abroad for advanced study. It was Newss Art University that had extended the invitation—after news broke that Bai Ye would be joining as a visiting professor, their admissions department had practically exploded with applications.

Just securing the chance to be there had been incredibly difficult. People said that even a few words of guidance from Bai Ye could clear a path through the academic world. Students from across the globe flocked there for the opportunity.

But Yu Bai hadn’t wanted just a few words—she’d wanted to become his disciple.

Bai Ye had only ever taken six disciples in his life. Every one of them was a heavyweight in the art world. Rumor had it he even had two cherished “final disciples,” whom he often bragged about, saying they were more talented than he ever was.

Yu Bai never dared hope for that title—just being accepted as a student would’ve been a dream come true. But her skills hadn’t been enough. She wasn’t chosen.

Still, to be personally mentored by Bai Ye, even once, was already an honor most could only dream of. That alone gave her the confidence to return home with her head held high.

“Little Sister”: [Don’t give me that “when I have time”—you have to come! I’ll make sure my sister’s home too!]

Yu Bai: [She just got married. I’m sure she’s busy.]

“Little Sister”: [Busy with what? Sister-in-law, you haven’t even seen that… ugh, she’s just a pretty face. Do you know what she majored in? She draws illustrations for a magazine! I laughed so hard—just random scribbles, totally amateur. She’s nothing compared to you. And my sister—can you believe it? She even found someone in the same line of work as you. Isn’t it obvious she still can’t let you go?]

The gloom that had hung over Yu Bai all evening lifted in an instant. So even the person Jiang Liuyi married had a career that mirrored hers.

And she says she doesn’t care?

She clearly did. She was just being stubborn—still mad, that was all.

After a moment of thought, Yu Bai sent her a message:

Yu Bai: [Yi Yi, thank you for tonight. Let me treat you to a meal sometime.]

Jiang Liuyi received the message just as she was stepping out of the car. Her gaze dimmed for a brief moment as she read it. Then she slipped her phone back into her coat pocket and headed upstairs.

Song Xian hadn’t gone to bed yet. She was sprawled across the sofa watching TV, legs lifted into the air, swinging lazily back and forth. The moment Jiang Liuyi opened the door, she caught sight of her.

Setting down her keys, Jiang Liuyi asked, “Have you had dinner?”

Still lying face down, Song Xian replied, “I have.”

Jiang Liuyi looked around the kitchen and noticed—nothing had been left for her. Was Song Xian angry?

She must have seen the caller ID. She would’ve known it was Yu Bai.

They had never spoken about Yu Bai directly, but some of those overly chatty friends of hers had let things slip. Jiang Liuyi was just about to explain when—

“Song Xian.”

Song Xian turned her head. “Did you eat? There are dumplings in the fridge.”

“I’m not hungry,” Jiang Liuyi replied.

Song Xian let out a soft “Mm,” switched off the television, and padded barefoot toward the bedroom. Jiang Liuyi had noticed—she always liked being barefoot at home. Her toes were small and delicate, painted a pale pink. Adorably so.

Jiang Liuyi lowered her gaze for a moment.

“I’m going to bed,” Song Xian said.

Just as Jiang Liuyi opened her mouth to speak, Song Xian stepped past her. Her foot caught slightly on the edge of the carpet, and she stumbled.

Jiang Liuyi instinctively reached out and caught her by the waist.

Her waist was slender, willow-like—narrow enough to cup with a single hand. The scent of her body wash drifted up, soft and lingering. She wore only a thin sleep dress, and beneath it, every contour was clearly visible—especially the firm peaks pressing lightly forward, brushing against Jiang Liuyi’s lips as if on purpose.

Jiang Liuyi parted her lips—and Song Xian leaned in, slipping the fabric and herself straight into her mouth.

“Inside,” Song Xian whispered, her voice low and husky, laced with a teasing pout. “Carry me to bed.”