There was no sound in the living room, nor was there any light.
Xu Yinsheng walked in, put the bag in her hand away, changed her shoes, and only then turned on the lights.
The light instantly filled the entire living room. She squinted her eyes to adjust for a moment before slowly opening them fully.
Compared to the villa she once lived in, the one she lived in now was much smaller, with only 150 square meters of space.
It wasn’t a self-built house in the suburbs either, but one of the villas in a neighborhood community.
To avoid repeating the same mistake, she chose a villa in the heart of the city, bustling with activity, and surrounded by plenty of neighbors.
Every week or two, Xu Yinsheng would invite the neighbors over for a party at the villa.
She walked into the kitchen with practiced ease, sorted the vegetables she’d bought—some went into the fridge, some into the sink to be washed and set aside for use.
Xu Yinsheng busied herself with making her own dinner.
Time is a mischievous little sprite; it can turn a handsome young man into a pot-bellied middle-aged uncle, or a homebody who once loved ordering takeout into a beautiful woman with a stunning figure and impressive cooking skills.
Even Xu Yinsheng herself couldn’t help but sigh—if it had been her from more than two years ago, she wouldn’t have believed she’d ever become like this, no matter how hard she tried to imagine it.
Before long, Xu Yinsheng, wearing a small apron, brought a steaming basket of soup dumplings to the table.
Dinner consisted of three dishes and a soup—two vegetarian, one meat, plus a glass of cold beer. Just enough for a family of three, just like this villa, perfectly sized for a small family.
“I’m digging in!”
Xu Yinsheng called out as she picked up her bowl and chopsticks.
Her pleasant voice echoed through the empty villa, bringing a hint of life to its quiet and lonely halls.
The stir-fried greens gleamed with freshness. Each bite was crisp and juicy, just slightly bitter and perfectly tantalizing. The roasted green peppers were aromatic, their charred skin giving off a mouth-watering fragrance. The flavor exploded with every bite. Paired with a sip of cold beer, the chill filled her mouth, sweeping away the lingering traces of spice and oil from her tongue and throat.
The pork rib soup was tender and fresh, with a few shrimp for garnish. A bite of meat, a sip of soup—so satisfying.
And then there were the soup dumplings she’d made herself, dainty and exquisite. The wrappers were thin and springy, enveloping the savory, juicy filling inside. A single bite released a burst of flavorful broth and tender meat.
Xu Yinsheng ate with gusto, but even so, she only finished about a third of it all.
Patting her slightly rounded belly, she let out a satisfied burp and wore a look of contentment. After resting in place for a few minutes, she stood up and put the leftover dishes in the fridge.
Such is the life of living alone.
Eating alone, cooking alone, washing clothes alone, sleeping alone. No one asks what you’ll have for your next meal, no one asks what you like to eat, no one tells you what kind of clothes they like to see you wear, and no one wakes you up in the morning… Yet, Xu Yinsheng still loved this kind of life.
Yes, she really did.
After her shower, she tossed her dirty clothes into the washing machine and blow-dried her hair. Wearing a set of yellow pajamas decorated with SpongeBob SquarePants, Xu Yinsheng entered her bedroom.
Xu Yinsheng’s bedroom always had just one style, though the details changed with the times.
Back when she was in her Male Form, her bedroom was filled with Gundam models, *cups, Lazy Goat plushies, 2D figurines, and even a full-body poster of her Waifu. During the days when Zhao Yicheng kept her captive, the room was the same except there was no *cup; the rest stayed mostly unchanged.
Now, though, when she opened the bedroom door, what greeted her was a room with a cozy, gentle vibe. The white walls were hung with all kinds of pictures of 2D characters.
A blue and white Single Bed stood by the wall, the nightstand topped with a Calendar covered in red checkmarks and a photo frame. The computer desk was lined with figurines of all sorts, even a Gundam Girl among them, while the corner held several large plushies of Lazy Goat and Big Big Wolf.
Xu Yinsheng lazily rolled a few times across the bed, then reached for the Calendar on her nightstand.
She gently swung her slender legs, her long, soft hair cascading down to cover half her face.
“A day without Zhao Yicheng—wonderful.” She murmured to herself, making a red check on today’s date with her pen.
A faint smile curled at the corners of Xu Yinsheng’s mouth.
Zhao Yicheng—a name so familiar.
Ever since that car accident and heavy rain half a year ago, the name Zhao Yicheng had never again appeared in Xu Yinsheng’s life. Nor had the person.
After that storm, Xu Yinsheng used a few tricks to go abroad, found her parents in some holiday resort, and explained to them that their only son was actually a daughter. Her parents were only slightly surprised before taking her to get her ID Certificate updated.
With a little help from connections, everything was done in a flash—one second she took a photo, the next she had her ID Certificate in hand.
The reason was simple: her parents had a flight to another country the next day, and the tickets were Couple Tickets. The day before, Xu Yinsheng had been undocumented, and the next moment, she was Young Master Xu, wealthy beyond imagination.
Of course, she should be called Miss Xu now.
Holding her ID Certificate, she called Du Shu, who ran the family foundation, and got a sum of money. With it, she forged a “pseudo-hermaphroditism” medical certificate, spent a month or two traveling abroad, and then slowly returned home.
For the past half year, Xu Yinsheng had intentionally avoided certain domestic news.
Her feelings toward Zhao Yicheng were complicated.
He was her best friend of twenty-six years, but also the demon who dragged her into an endless abyss for two whole years.
Hate? Yes! But half a year was enough to wear that down.
Love?
Xu Yinsheng could only shake her head with a bitter smile.
She felt brotherly affection, reliance, trust, resentment, disgust, hatred… but nothing like romantic love between a man and a woman.
Perhaps Zhao Yicheng had felt something more.
But the way he loved, and his kind of love, only made Xu Yinsheng feel sick.
Maybe… if Zhao Yicheng hadn’t been mentally ill, if he hadn’t been so extreme, if… maybe there might have been the tiniest chance. Maybe their future would have been like that dream she once had (see Chapter 9).
The more she thought about it, the more annoyed she became.
So Xu Yinsheng flopped back onto the bed, spaced out, and grabbed a Lazy Goat plushie, squeezing and squishing it in her arms until she’d worn herself out and her mood improved.
Staring out at the bright night sky beyond the window, Xu Yinsheng hugged the plushie she’d just played with. Her long lashes drooped, hiding the thoughts in her eyes.
Zhao Yicheng might be dead, or maybe not. Maybe alive, maybe dead.
But today was still another beautiful day without Zhao Yicheng.