That whispered dream, like a stone cast into a placid lake, stirred an unceasing ripple in Su Yiyi’s heart.
After dinner, the atmosphere grew subtle and heavy. When Lan Yucheng awoke, she met Su Yiyi’s gaze—still gentle, yet now imbued with a noticeable hint of inquiry and distance.
“Did you have a dream?” Su Yiyi asked, casually clearing the dishes. Her voice was calm, but her gaze, like a fine net, sought to capture every subtle change on Lan Yucheng’s face.
Lan Yucheng’s heart lurched, and all traces of sleep vanished instantly. Realizing she might have let something slip, she suppressed her panic and vaguely replied, “Mmm… I might have been a bit tired, just drowsy.”
Su Yiyi did not press further, merely offering a faint smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Over the next few days, an invisible chasm began to form.
Su Yiyi continued to look after Lan Yucheng, but her care now carried a more formal politeness, lacking the easy intimacy they once shared. She no longer spontaneously invited Lan Yucheng for walks or movies.
When Lan Yucheng approached her as she usually would, Su Yiyi would subtly create a little distance.
Lan Yucheng acutely perceived this shift. Panic, like icy vines, coiled around her heart. Her capture progress was regressing! She could not afford to lose Su Yiyi’s trust and goodwill!
That was her only hope of returning to Xiao Xue’s side!
She began to intensify her “performance,” attempting to mend their relationship. She became clingier, finding every excuse to stay near Su Yiyi, her gaze more dependent, her tone softer and sweeter.
Yet, the more deliberate she became, the more artificial it seemed. Su Yiyi’s responses remained gentle, but they felt like looking through frosted glass—unclear, and unable to touch her true feelings.
****
Turning Point and Exposure
The turning point occurred one weekend afternoon. The two of them were sipping tea and basking in the sun on Su Yiyi’s balcony. The sunlight was beautiful, but the atmosphere felt somewhat stifled.
Suddenly, Su Yiyi set down her teacup and looked at Lan Yucheng with a tranquil gaze, asking as if in casual conversation, “Xiao Cheng, did you… used to have a very profound relationship?”
Lan Yucheng’s hand, holding her cup, trembled violently, splashing a few drops of hot tea onto her hand. Her skin reddened, but she remained oblivious to the burn. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest, threatening to burst out.
She forced herself to calm down, squeezing out a stiff smile. “Sister Yiyi, why do you ask that all of a sudden?”
Su Yiyi’s gaze was as sharp as a scalpel, lightly tracing Lan Yucheng’s feigned composure. “Nothing, I just feel… sometimes, the way you look at me, it’s not really me you’re seeing. It’s as if you’re looking through me, at someone else.”
She paused, her voice softer, yet carrying immense weight. “That person named ‘Xiao Xue’ must be very important to you, isn’t she?”
“Clang!”
The teacup slipped completely from Lan Yucheng’s grasp, crashing onto the tiled floor with a piercing shatter. Her face went deathly pale, her lips trembling. All her pretense was utterly shattered in that moment.
Su Yiyi knew! She knew everything! That whispered dream, it had planted suspicion in her mind, and she had been testing her! And her own panicked reaction was undoubtedly the best evidence!
“I… I’m not…” Lan Yucheng stammered incoherently, her mind a blank, desperate to deny, desperate to conceal.
Su Yiyi looked at her frantic, pale face, and the last flicker of warmth in her eyes extinguished, replaced by a deep disappointment and a chilling understanding. She slowly stood up, her voice chillingly calm.
“Xiao Cheng, I treated you as a younger sister, genuinely wanting to help you. But I’ve realized that I may never have truly understood you, and perhaps… what you’ve shown me isn’t even the real you.”
She picked up her jacket from the sofa, putting it on with efficient movements. Her voice carried weariness and distance. “I think we both need some space to calm down. You should rest well for now.”
She was leaving! She was going to leave! The capture was going to fail! Her hope of seeing Xiao Xue again was about to be shattered!
This realization branded itself onto Lan Yucheng’s nerves like a red-hot iron. Immense fear instantly drowned all her rationality and calculations!
“No!” Lan Yucheng shrieked, practically lunging forward, clutching Su Yiyi’s waist from behind with astonishing force, a desperate, frantic grip born of impending doom.
“Sister Yiyi! Don’t go! Please don’t go!” She buried her face tightly against Su Yiyi’s back, her voice distorted by extreme fear and agitation, laced with a sob. “I didn’t mean it! I didn’t lie to you! I just… I was just too scared!”
Su Yiyi was startled by the sudden attack, her body stiffening as she tried to break free. “Xiao Cheng! Let go! Calm down!”
“I won’t let go! If I let go, you’ll leave! And then I’ll have nothing!” Lan Yucheng held on even tighter, her nails almost digging into Su Yiyi’s clothes. In the chaos, Qing Xinxue’s face, filled with mad possessiveness, her obsessive words and actions, that desperate way of keeping someone, suddenly seized her mind like a drowning person grasping at a final straw!
Yes! Like Xiao Xue! Just don’t let her go! Any method would do!
As if possessed, Lan Yucheng abruptly spun Su Yiyi around, grabbing her shoulders with force. Her eyes, bloodshot from agitation and confusion, stared up at Su Yiyi’s astonished face, and she shrieked in a nearly obsessive, mimicked tone:
“You’re mine! Su Yiyi! I won’t let you go! You’re not allowed to go anywhere!”
“You said you’d take care of me! You said you wouldn’t abandon me! You can’t break your promise!”
“I’ll die without you! I’ll really die! Do you hear me?!”
As she screamed, she tried to kiss Su Yiyi, just as Qing Xinxue had once done to her. Her movements were rough and desperate, without any grace, more like an instinctive, despairing mark of possession.
“Lan Yucheng! You’re insane! Look at me—who am I?!” Su Yiyi was utterly terrified by this completely unfamiliar, almost deranged state. She pushed Lan Yucheng away forcefully, her face etched with shock, anger, and a hint of fear.
She looked at the girl before her, who seemed utterly mad. Where was the obedient, dependent younger sister she knew?
Pushed away abruptly, Lan Yucheng staggered back a few steps, colliding with the wall. The pain brought a moment of clarity. She saw the clear disgust and fear in Su Yiyi’s eyes, saw her own clownish performance, and a wave of immense shame and utter despair engulfed her.
She had failed. Not only had she failed to salvage things, but she had ruined everything. She couldn’t be like Xiao Xue; she was just a ridiculous, clumsy imitator.
“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…” She slid down the wall to the floor, curling up and burying her face deep into her knees, letting out suppressed, whimpering cries like a wounded animal. “I’m not her… I can’t imitate her… I messed everything up…”
Su Yiyi stood a short distance away, her chest heaving. She watched Lan Yucheng, who was collapsing and crying on the floor, her gaze incredibly complex. There was anger, coldness, and lingering fear, but ultimately, it dissolved into a heavy, helpless sigh.
She finally confirmed it: Lan Yucheng indeed harbored someone in her heart, someone who had influenced her so deeply that it had even distorted her behavior. And she, Su Yiyi, might have been nothing more than a substitute under some shadow, or perhaps, a tool Lan Yucheng was trying to use to achieve some goal.
This realization, more than any direct deception, left her feeling colder and more disappointed.
Su Yiyi did not leave again, but she also did not approach. She simply stood there quietly, watching the girl crying her heart out, and for the first time, she felt that this seemingly fragile neighbor, this younger sister, might harbor a dark and turbulent world within her that Su Yiyi could neither understand nor reach.
And Lan Yucheng, in her complete breakdown, understood that she had not only lost Su Yiyi’s trust but might also be forever lost on the misguided path of finding “Xiao Xue.” The madness she had mimicked was, in the end, no salvation of her own.