With a “creak”, the sound faded as Su Li left.
Yet, Chi Qingya remained standing there in a daze, unable to snap out of it.
Her eyes were fixed on the WeChat transfer notification. She counted the amount over and over—50,000 yuan, not 5,000, not 500.
Not a single cent less.
The shock rooted her to the spot.
By the time she finally looked up, wanting to demand an explanation from Su Li, the girl was already gone.
She had left.
Really left.
She had even taken the trash near the table with her, leaving not a single trace behind.
Chi Qingya stood frozen, staring at the empty table and the vacant sofa, as if traces of Su Li’s presence still lingered there.
Memories flashed through her mind—Su Li sitting at the table eating, Su Li fidgeting nervously on the sofa and her heart twisted painfully.
Something important was slipping away from her, something she desperately wanted to grasp but couldn’t.
After what felt like an eternity, Chi Qingya finally mustered the courage to walk to Su Li’s room, clinging to a futile hope.
She stood at the door, hesitating, afraid to open it.
When Su Li was home, the room had been just as quiet, with no sign of life.
Leaning against the door, Chi Qingya secretly wished that Su Li was still inside—that if she just pushed the door open, Su Li would stand up and greet her as usual.
But when she finally turned the handle and slowly opened the door, all she saw was an empty room, tidied up so thoroughly it looked as if no one had ever lived there.
Just like before.
Before…
Her memories of the time before Su Li had moved in had blurred.
She could no longer recall what her life had been like back then.
Growl.
The sound of her own hunger made her frown subconsciously.
“Su Li, I’m hungry. Why isn’t the food ready yet?”
The words slipped out before she realized—Su Li wasn’t here anymore.
No one would cook for her now.
She was hungry.
At this time before, she would have already eaten and retreated to her room to play games.
But now, she hadn’t had a single bite.
Whatever. If Su Li didn’t make breakfast, I’ll just order takeout.
In this world, who really needs anyone else?
Besides, with the 50,000 yuan Su Li had just transferred, she could afford something good.
What should I eat?
She pulled out her phone and scrolled through delivery apps, browsing half-heartedly.
The same few restaurants near her home had long lost their appeal.
Frustrated, she exhaled sharply and muttered to herself:
“Just get the seafood congee from that place I used to order from. It wasn’t bad.”
But after searching for a while, she realized—she hadn’t ordered congee in ages.
Not since Su Li had started living with her.
After fumbling with the app, she discovered the shop had closed down at some point.
Tossing her phone aside, she slumped onto the sofa and stared blankly at the ceiling, irritation gnawing at her.
“Su Li ruined my whole damn day.”
She grumbled under her breath, but no matter how much she blamed Su Li, there was nothing she could do about it now.
Opening her chat with Su Li, she hovered over the keyboard, wanting to ask what she was having for lunch.
But pride held her back.
Why should I ask first? It’d be like admitting defeat.
Yet, a small part of her still hoped for something.
Su Li must’ve sent that 50,000 yuan just to save face.
She’s probably regretting it now, too embarrassed to bring it up.
She was practically homeless before—where would she get that kind of money?
She’s probably broke now, starving just to keep up appearances.
If I accept the money and just… give her a tiny opening…
She’ll realize her mistake, crawl back, and beg for forgiveness.
And if she apologizes properly, maybe I’ll even treat her to a cheap meal.
With a smirk, Chi Qingya finally sent the message she’d been drafting in her head.
But the moment it went through, a red exclamation mark appeared.
[Message failed. You are not a contact of this user.]
The glaring red symbol mocked her.
Her own reflection stared back from the phone screen—like a clown with a broken nose.
Chi Qingya stood frozen, her smile vanishing, replaced by utter disbelief.
She deleted me right after I took the money?
……
While Chi Qingya stewed in frustration, Jin Ke’er, far away in a foreign country, wasn’t faring much better.
The treatment had been ongoing for some time, but compared to the pain of electrotherapy, the loneliness and suffocating despair were far worse.
Before each session, she would tear books to shreds in her room, smash delicate objects—anything to vent the unbearable pressure inside.
Yet, nothing helped.
She was restless, desperate to hire someone to pamper her like before, but no one was willing—no matter how much she offered.
Once her legs were healed, a bright future awaited her.
But the darkness before dawn was almost too much to bear.
She could endure the physical pain, but the emotional turmoil was beyond her control.
“Miss, it’s time for your treatment,” the butler said calmly, standing beside her like a silent shadow.
Jin Ke’er was like a ticking bomb, a balloon filled to bursting—one touch, and she’d explode.
“Have you still not found Su Li’s contact information?”
“No. She must have changed her number.”
The butler’s report only fueled Jin Ke’er’s frustration.
She gasped for air, but it did nothing to ease the suffocation.
“Su Li has been careful. After changing her number, she hasn’t used it for anything traceable. There’s no way to track her.”
“Besides, she rarely leaves her home, so—”
Before the butler could finish, Jin Ke’er hurled her cane across the room, knocking over a chair.
The butler felt no sympathy for the chair.
If I pity the chair today, I might be the one flying across the room tomorrow.
Though she doubted Jin Ke’er could actually hit her.
When she’d first taken the job, she’d made sure to buy plenty of insurance—just in case.
“Keep looking. Dig up anything related to Su Li—photos, clothes, anything she’s touched!”