conflict

“My God, ancestor, what did you do last night?”

“It’s just your old flame coming back,
and you worked yourself into a 39.8-degree fever!
Did you stay up all night and jump into a lake or something?”

The tone was exaggeratedly shocked.

Xu Fengruo listlessly raised her eyes,
glaring at Chu Cheng beside her,
retorting weakly:
“You’re the one who jumped in a lake.”

Chu Cheng shrugged.
She was like that—
not a bad person,
loyal to her friends,
but her mouth ran nonstop,
always blowing things out of proportion.

Still…

Xu Fengruo glanced at the thermometer in her hand.
Thirty-nine point eight degrees—
real as it gets,
no exaggeration there.

She’d thought it was just a small cold,
not something this serious.

But thinking about it,
it made sense.
Before returning to S City,
she’d been working nonstop for half a month.
On the plane,
she hadn’t rested a moment,
arguing with her manager the whole way.
Then she rode her bike in thin short sleeves,
buffeted by the wind for a good while.

Later,
Liu Tingsong’s reappearance left her brooding and upset,
not to mention getting up at dawn
to rummage through the living room.

A pile of nonsense stacked together—
even a sturdy person couldn’t take it,
let alone Xu Fengruo,
whose health was already frail.

Chu Cheng didn’t say more.
Unreliable as she could be,
she knew when to hold back.
Otherwise, Xu Fengruo wouldn’t have called her.

She set down the thermometer
and went to boil water.

After some bustling,
she sat back down.

Now, Xu Fengruo had a cooling patch on her forehead,
her tongue bitter from the medicine.

Chu Cheng looked at her,
wanting to toss in a few more teasing remarks,
but seeing her pitiful state,
she couldn’t bring herself to say them.

The two had known each other for a long time,
or Chu Cheng wouldn’t know about Liu Tingsong and Xu Fengruo.

But Xu Fengruo was tight-lipped.
Since Liu Tingsong left,
she hadn’t mentioned her once,
as if she’d never existed.

Sometimes, Chu Cheng even doubted herself,
wondering if it had all been an illusion.
Only Xu Fengruo’s increasingly gaunt frame
gave her a sense of reality.

That was Xu Fengruo’s way—
outwardly wild and defiant,
but inwardly reserved.
The bigger the issue,
the more she kept it bottled up,
acting calm and indifferent on the surface,
while silently enduring inside.

A one-meter-seventy-five frame,
down to just over ninety pounds.
Even multiple hospital visits
couldn’t bring her weight back up.
It even sparked rumors outside,
claiming Xu Fengruo was on something.

This time was no different.
Last night’s call had sounded so calm,
yet this morning she was this sick.

Chu Cheng sighed,
scratching her Neptune-red dyed hair,
wanting to crack a joke but coming up empty.

She stewed in her thoughts for a bit,
then went to fetch the porridge she’d brought.

Xu Fengruo took in her actions,
but didn’t explain,
leaning against the headboard,
eyelids half-lowered,
lost in thought,
looking utterly drained.

She didn’t want to move
or talk.

Until a spoonful of porridge touched her lips,
she instinctively opened her mouth.
After taking several kinds of medicine,
the bitter taste lingered,
and even without an appetite,
she wanted something to dull it.

But as the rice grains hit her tongue,
the overly familiar flavor made Xu Fengruo freeze.

Chu Cheng didn’t notice,
too focused on the rice stuck to Xu Fengruo’s lip,
debating whether to wipe it now
or wait until she finished eating.

Before she could decide,
Xu Fengruo turned aside,
reaching for the phone tucked in the crevice.

Chu Cheng jolted,
trying to stop her,
but it was too late.

The phone screen lit up,
and at the top of the call log
was an unmarked number.

Xu Fengruo’s expression darkened,
instinctively tapping it.

The first call was from before Liu Tingsong knocked,
when Xu Fengruo was still washing dishes in the kitchen.
Her phone, always on silent,
had missed the call.
This morning, she’d mistakenly dialed it back.

Chu Cheng opened her mouth,
awkwardly trying to stay calm,
saying:
“She’s really worried about you…”

It was tough for her,
with her flashy Neptune-red hair,
to say such timid words.

Xu Fengruo didn’t respond,
her already pale face growing gloomier.

Outside, the sunlight was blinding.
Chu Cheng had pulled the curtains open when she arrived,
revealing swaths of green outside.
Birds perched on branches,
bobbing their heads,
watching something unknown.
The air carried the scent of rice,
tinged with a faint sweetness.

Chu Cheng stammered:
“Don’t— don’t overthink it.
She’s just worried about you…
afraid you wouldn’t take the medicine.”

Poor her,
caught in the middle,
unable to take sides or mediate,
only managing dry words.

Xu Fengruo didn’t blame her.
She wasn’t so sick as to lash out blindly.
Besides, she was the one who’d misdialed.

She deflated,
slumping back into bed,
murmuring listlessly:
“Don’t want to eat anymore.”

Chu Cheng, relieved to hear her speak,
exhaled and quickly said:
“I’ll toss it out later.”

Xu Fengruo nodded,
adding:
“Take the medicine too.
I’ll buy more later.”

“Alright,”
Chu Cheng knew she was upset
and didn’t push.

Xu Fengruo pursed her lips,
saying:
“I’ll treat you to something in a couple of days.”

She was clear-headed enough
to know it wasn’t Chu Cheng’s fault.
No need to make her friend feel bad.
But apologies weren’t her style—
with their friendship,
a meal would do.

Chu Cheng’s expression softened,
saying:
“No need for a treat.
Just find a tasty old restaurant.”

S City had grown fast in recent years,
new skyscrapers rising
while old eateries vanished into their shadows.
Only local foodies who grew up here
could dig up those long-lost flavors from memory.

Xu Fengruo nodded,
knowing Chu Cheng’s love for food,
already planning ahead.
She added:
“Cancel the rehearsals for the next couple of days.”

They’d scheduled Burning Meteor rehearsals
just days ago.

“I’ll let them know,”
Chu Cheng said, hesitating before adding:
“Rest when you need to.
You don’t have to think about us all the time.
You can have a life outside the band.”

Like the bar gig—
with Xu Fengruo’s packed schedule,
she shouldn’t have agreed,
but feeling they hadn’t performed together in a while,
she’d insisted on it.

Xu Fengruo nodded,
unclear if she’d heard,
slipping back under the covers,
saying:
“I’m going to rest.”

Chu Cheng sighed helplessly.

The door closed,
footsteps echoing.

Downstairs,
the car that lingered until dawn last night
was already waiting early this morning,
its body covered in white mist.
A finger’s swipe left a clear streak,
icy to the touch.

Seeing Chu Cheng come down with bags,
Liu Tingsong wasn’t surprised.
She opened the car door,
hurried over,
and asked:
“How is she?”

“Her fever’s gone down,”
Chu Cheng said,
a bit uneasy,
stepping back to keep some distance.

“Thank you,”
Liu Tingsong said sincerely.

But the other couldn’t accept it,
waving it off:
“What’s there to thank?
You bought everything.
I just brought it up.
It’s just…”

Her tone shifted,
awkwardly lifting the bags:
“She didn’t eat much.”

Liu Tingsong pursed her lips,
saying:
“Thanks for coming so early.”

“No big deal,”
Chu Cheng scratched her head,
trying to comfort:
“You know how she is…”

Liu Tingsong nodded,
repeating:
“Thank you.”

Her eyelids lowered,
then she blurted:
“I’m the one who let her down.”

Both fell silent.
One didn’t know what to say,
the other had no mood to say more.
They stood there,
awkward and heavy.

They both knew Xu Fengruo’s temperament.
If she’d argue or make a scene,
it’d mean you still had a place in her heart.

But like now,
pushing people away,
building a wall to shut them out of her life,
that was true rejection—
complete disinterest,
too lazy to even talk,
wanting nothing but distance,
no connection at all.

Chu Cheng was at a loss.
Her peripheral vision caught the phone lighting up in the car,
and she quickly pointed it out.

Liu Tingsong turned to grab it,
answering just as an urgent voice came through.

She seemed busy,
squeezing out even this short time to deliver things.

Chu Cheng’s sharp ears caught words about a shoot,
then something about Liu Tingsong running off last night.

She blinked,
her suppressed curiosity bubbling up.
As Liu Tingsong hung up,
Chu Cheng couldn’t help asking:
“You really didn’t come to the bar last night?”

Liu Tingsong paused,
then said frankly:
“I did.”

She added with praise:
“You’ve improved a lot.
You’re a fully mature band now.”

Chu Cheng nearly scratched her scalp bald,
wanting to laugh but unable to,
feeling awkward,
cursing Xu Fengruo inwardly for hiding it.

Liu Tingsong seemed to sense something,
giving a bitter smile:
“The gala ended early,
and you delayed by an hour,
so I made it to the performance.”

“Yeah, A-Feng’s flight was delayed.”

“I didn’t plan to disrupt your show.
I meant to listen quietly and leave,
but someone recognized me.
Luckily…”

Liu Tingsong paused:
“Last night, I wanted to explain a few things to her,
but she didn’t want to see me.”

Chu Cheng’s head ached.
If this weren’t the Heavenly Queen Liu,
her childhood idol,
she’d staunchly side with Xu Fengruo,
giving no chances.
But it was Liu Tingsong.

She didn’t know what to do.
After some fumbling words,
they parted quickly.