She will never forgive Liu Tingsong again

The music festival was a triumph, the crowd’s fervor echoing as the protagonists slipped offstage, leaving only viral videos spreading online.

Later, as the sunset drew its curtain, the sky turned deep blue, dotted with faint stars dimmed by hillside streetlights. The roar of exhaust pipes erupted, colorful motorcycles speeding from the curve, racing up the asphalt.

The fierce wind grazed helmets, lifting gray-white hair tips. Xu Fengluan glanced at the black bike closing in, tightening her grip on the throttle.

But in the next second, a vibrant motorcycle zoomed past, stirring a howling gust.

Chu Cheng had caught up.

Before Xu Fengluan could pursue, the black bike pressed closer.

Kuang Ye followed, waiting for a chance to surge ahead.

But Xu Fengluan gave no quarter. Her white bike broke through.

The four chased relentlessly, tires crushing fallen leaves, dry branches swaying, wild and free. @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

After a while, the exhilarated group stopped at the hilltop lookout.

Cans clinked, brown soda splashing, its sweet scent rising. They leaned against the wooden railing, gazing at the distant city, banter flowing.

“No way, who got passed twice?” Chu Cheng bragged, only to be exposed by Kuang Ye’s jab.

She glared, sipping soda, choking as Chu Cheng fired back.

“Yeah, you’re the champ. Who was too scared to even pose coolly onstage?”

“Cough, cough!” Kuang Ye hacked, caught off guard.

Chu Cheng laughed, “So useless! We cleared the stage for you, sang from the sides.”

For Kuang Ye, they’d abandoned their usual positions, crowding to the edges, placing her drums center-stage, elevated for maximum visibility. They picked songs showcasing her, even adding a mic. Xu Fengluan reworked lyrics overnight to give her more lines.

This wasn’t just a peacock fanning its tail—it was practically smacking it in someone’s face.

Yet Kuang Ye flopped. Her usual flair with drumsticks failed; she couldn’t even toss them, making the trio anxious, signaling her subtly.

The water-spraying stunt was a bust too. They ran to the sides, giving Kuang Ye space to approach Qiao Sheng, but she fumbled, her splash barely reaching her toes, unlike their flashy sprays. The trio froze.

*Say you can’t do it, and we’d have drunk the water instead!*

Their efforts to play wingmen fell flat, leaving them half-amused, half-annoyed, teasing Kuang Ye at every chance.

Ji Lunan chimed in, “You’re hopeless onstage, but you could’ve asked her for dinner.”

Chu Cheng nodded, “Yeah, or a ride up here.”

Kuang Ye’s coughing, real then fake, didn’t stop.

Even Xu Fengluan cracked a smile.

“That nail salon day, if I didn’t know you were chasing her, I’d think Xiao Sheng liked you,” Chu Cheng huffed, crushing her can.

Her black-and-white gradient nails, studded with rhinestones, gleamed. To avoid hindering her playing, she skipped extensions, but the staff added a huge black gem on her middle finger, flashier than a ring. Even non-fans snapped photos.

The usually boastful Chu Cheng, who’d flood fan pages post-show, hadn’t touched Weibo, dreading close-ups of her nails.

She felt utterly shortchanged.

Kuang Ye, unable to dodge, sighed, “I asked her, sent a message.”

“Huh?”

The trio turned, stunned.

Kuang Ye showed her phone, flipping to the chat.

Chu Cheng peeked. No Nanxu, just texts, no cute emojis—stiff words from both sides. Qiao Sheng’s reply was a blunt “No.”

No excuse, just rejection.

Xu Fengluan and Ji Lunan saw it too, sensing Kuang Ye’s long road ahead.

They eased off, and Chu Cheng, shifting gears, elbowed Xu Fengluan, “What about you? What happened at the school anniversary?”

Ji Lunan’s question hung, held back earlier to avoid upsetting her fragile state.

Xu Fengluan’s smile faded.

Though Chu Cheng noticed, she couldn’t hold back, “Why’d you suddenly…”

Her can crumpled, its room-temperature contents mist-free, highlighting her nails.

She disliked marks on her body, even polish. If not for Ji Lunan’s prior plan to flaunt their manicures for Qiao Sheng’s business, she’d have removed them that night.

Xu Fengluan pursed her lips, pausing before saying, “I learned why Liu Tingsong approached me.”

The trio froze.

She looked toward the neon-wrapped city, its lights dimming in her somber eyes, gray-white hair clinging to her neck.

“Her intentions weren’t pure…” Xu Fengluan’s lips ground, words slow.

No longer hiding, she spilled everything, family included, shocking Chu Cheng’s group, their sodas forgotten.

Hilltop winds rustled branches, casting wild shadows. Parked bikes’ headlights lit the clearing.

Chu Cheng ruffled her orange hair, unusually serious, “So your mom’s Boss Xu, and Liu Tingsong, to spite her, switched careers and pushed you into entertainment?”

She clicked her tongue, “How could she…”

Once calling her “sister-in-law,” Chu Cheng dropped the term.

Ji Lunan, silent, said, “Anything you need, I’m here.”

Her family’s clout made even Xu Nanzhu wary.

Xu Fengluan nodded, “Thanks.”

Kuang Ye patted her shoulder, firm.

They knew her pain, stunned by her burdens, unsure what to say. Their support was enough.

She sipped soda, its sting easing her bitterness.

Chu Cheng squatted, no decorum, “What now?”

Xu Fengluan answered fast, “Don’t know.” @Infinite Good Stories, Exclusively at Jinjiang Literature City

Her bluntness screamed aimless defeat.

She exhaled hard, crushing leaves under her sneakers, frustration surging, “I don’t know.”

She recalled her anniversary words, barring Liu Tingsong from seeking her, vowing to find her instead, but…

The urge to meet flared countless times, yet fear of hurt made her cowardice, choosing escape over action, sealing chaotic thoughts in a haze.

Her resolve deflated, “I don’t know.”

Tangled emotions knotted her heart, too precious to cut, too painful to untangle, binding her in dull agony.

The trio had no answers—every choice seemed wrong—so they fell silent.

Thin clouds parted, faint stars faded, night deepening.

“Let’s see if we trended,” Chu Cheng forced a topic, opening Weibo to break the tension.

“Check it,” Ji Lunan urged.

Kuang Ye added, “It was lively today.”

Xu Fengluan glanced over.

After silence, even forced chatter worked, flipping the page.

“Let me see,” Chu Cheng’s screen lit up, thumb swiping.

No trends? She’d pivot to fan pages, joking about nail photos to lighten the mood.

But her face froze, expression grim.

Squatting in front, her look was unmistakable.

“What’s wrong?” Xu Fengluan felt unease.

“What’s up, Orange?” Ji Lunan pressed.

Chu Cheng’s lips twitched, glancing at Xu Fengluan, then her screen, no chance to feign calm.

She stammered, “Liu Tingsong… she’s…”

“She’s leaving the country.”

“Someone dug up her flight info, blasting her in fan pages for ditching fans after a quick gain.”

The soda bottle hit the ground, brown liquid fizzing.

In a flash, Xu Fengluan bolted. The trio reached to stop her, missing her jacket, watching her slim figure race to her bike, straddle it, don her helmet, and speed off like an arrow.

The engine roared, leaves swirling.

Chu Cheng’s group chased, fearing her impulsiveness, but she vanished.

*—Bang bang!*

Her palms slammed the door, abandoning decorum, shaking the frame, echoing through the hall.

*—Thud thud thud!*

The loud pounding stirred neighbors, but the apartment stayed silent, not even a cat’s meow.

Xu Fengluan’s heart sank, panic, rage, and frustration mixing. Her chilled fingers purpled from the ride, eyes misting.

“Liu Tingsong!” she yelled, fist pounding.

“Open the door!”

Another blow, uncontrolled, shook the wall.

“Liu Tingsong!” Her angry question carried bulging neck veins.

“Open it!”

Pent-up emotions hit their breaking point, exploding at the news of Liu’s departure.

The handle rattled, the keypad lit. After another knock, Xu Fengluan pressed the fingerprint lock, the bolt turning, door flung open.

The vast apartment felt empty. No cat, no Liu Tingsong, just dead silence.

Her body trembled, memories and reality overlapping, unshakable fear climbing her spine, chilling her to the bone, colder than that rainy day.

Controlling her breath, she rushed inside.

The bedroom door was ajar, clothes strewn on the bed.

Her mind exploded, blank.

The last shred of hope died. She didn’t dare search for Liu’s traces like five years ago, fearing another crushing letdown.

She slumped against the black doorframe, the pain too weak to pull her from despair.

Staring at the discarded clothes, her eyes flashed mockery.

Did Liu Tingsong loathe her that much?

Not even a final meeting, rushing to leave, tossing her clothes out.

Would she hire cleaners later to trash them and sanitize the place?

Her thoughts spiraled to extremes, trapped in a dead end.

The air stuck in her chest, swelling, crushing her ribs and heart. Her ears rang, her numb left hand too weak to lift.

“Liu Tingsong…”

She growled the name, hatred flooding, tears sliding down her taut jaw.

The crumpled T-shirt’s Patch Dog drooped, as if protesting its mistreatment.

Resolved, Xu Fengluan inhaled sharply, turned, and left without lingering.

She wasn’t a dignity-less dog, begging after being discarded, wagging her tail shamelessly.

The door slammed, the elevator reflecting her misty green eyes.

She vowed never to cross paths with Liu Tingsong again.

They owed each other nothing, complete strangers.

She’d never bow to her, never forgive her.

Liu Tingsong was nothing to her.

She’d forget her.

On the ride back, she swore repeatedly, each time firmer.

Her bike abandoned downstairs, she climbed the dark, old stairwell, lights undisturbed, sinking into night, vowing with each step.

No more words to Liu Tingsong.

No more glances.

Liu Tingsong better never appear before her.

Liu Tingsong, Liu Tingsong…

Her gums bled, her heart rotted—words failed to capture her state, yet even after climbing, she kept swearing.

Until, in the dark, someone waiting long embraced her.

Xu Fengluan froze.