The Answer Beneath the Sunset

The sun was nearing the horizon as they left the school. The fiery red sunset stretched Chu Ran’s shadow long across the ground, pulling it right to Ye Nanzhi’s side.

School hours were over, and the area around the primary school was nearly deserted.

Flower beds half a meter high lined both sides of the sidewalk. Ye Nanzhi stepped onto the stone curb of the flower bed, walking along it like a balance beam, following right behind Chu Ran’s shadow.

Chu Ran was much taller than Ye Nanzhi with longer legs, but today she unexpectedly slowed her pace, allowing Ye Nanzhi to tread exactly on her shadow.

“I never would have guessed you were so cute as a kid! You’re nothing like you are now!” Ye Nanzhi laughed, recalling Chu Ran’s childhood photo.

“What’s wrong with how I am now?”

“You’re always wearing such a serious face!” After saying this, Ye Nanzhi didn’t forget to make a face at Chu Ran. Standing high on the curb with her hands on her hips, she enjoyed the rare sensation of looking down at Chu Ran. “You used to always be cold-faced, looking unhappy no matter who you saw. I didn’t expect you to have such a sweet smile when you were little!”

Chu Ran came to a sudden halt and turned back to look at her. “You think I look… unhappy?”

“Well, yeah!” Ye Nanzhi stopped as well.

Chu Ran looked up at her. The sunset hit the side of her face, making her fair skin glow with a faint red light, while the golden dusk illuminated her eyes.

It was as if an invisible hand was pulling Chu Ran toward her; she instinctively leaned in closer to Ye Nanzhi.

“You talk as if you understand me so well. Then look at me—do I look happy right now?”

By the time the words left her mouth, Chu Ran was standing directly in front of Ye Nanzhi. With her eyelashes trembling slightly and her brownish eyes darting, Chu Ran’s sudden proximity made Ye Nanzhi panic.

A predator often enjoys watching its prey tremble in fear before the strike. Chu Ran had always felt that such behavior was the mark of a twisted psyche.

But now, as she watched the soft rabbit’s cheeks flush with nerves, she suddenly understood the thrill of it.

As the other woman drew closer, Ye Nanzhi felt the air around her grow significantly hotter. Even though it was already autumn, the sunset was still scorching.

Or perhaps it wasn’t the sunset that was scorching, but the way their breaths were beginning to entwine.

“Don’t you know me so well? Tell me, am I happy right now, or unhappy?” Chu Ran’s voice was low, the rising lilt at the end full of playful teasing.

“N-not unhappy, I guess…” Ye Nanzhi stammered.

Chu Ran instantly pressed closer, her crimson lips brushing against Ye Nanzhi’s ear. For a moment, Ye Nanzhi’s heart pounded, boiling over along with the surrounding air.

“Wrong guess.”

Ye Nanzhi stared blankly at Chu Ran. She didn’t look angry in the slightest, yet Ye Nanzhi didn’t dare ask more.

If she continued to press the issue, there was no telling what the other woman might do.

Since they were in public, Chu Ran knew when to stop. She glanced down at her watch. “Let’s go. It’s getting late.”

They hadn’t walked more than two steps when Ye Nanzhi’s phone rang.

Though there was no real need to report it, Ye Nanzhi still gave Chu Ran a nervous glance. “It’s my aunt.”

Chu Ran stopped and signaled that she would wait. Only then did Ye Nanzhi answer.

On the other end, the woman’s voice was aged yet carried a sharp, piercing quality. Even without the speakerphone on, anyone nearby could hear the conversation clearly.

–Xiaozhi, where are you? Are you with Huanhuan?–

Ye Nanzhi: “No, Auntie, I’m outside.”

–Auntie was looking for you. Xiaozhi, there’s something your mother didn’t want me to tell you, but I just couldn’t let it go.–

–You know Tang Mu, right? Your Uncle Tang’s son, the one you grew up with! He went to work in Shen City too!–

“Auntie, why are you telling me this!” Seeing things were heading in the wrong direction, Ye Nanzhi whispered her reply while trying to turn away from Chu Ran. But Chu Ran seemed to have predicted her move; before Ye Nanzhi could turn, Chu Ran firmly caught her by the wrist.

Meanwhile, the voice on the other end was completely out of control. No matter how Ye Nanzhi tried to interrupt, her aunt’s voice continued unabated, like a machine gun firing a stream of words.

–How can you say it has nothing to do with you? Look, you insisted on going all the way south for school, and he just happened to follow you there. Why do you think that is? I heard he’s joined a good hospital and is already a full physician.–

–Xiaozhi, Auntie thinks this boy is quite good. You’ve known each other since childhood, so we know his background. His looks, character, family, education, job—he has everything. Auntie speaks bluntly, so don’t be upset, but how old are you now? By the time you finish your master’s, you’ll be twenty-five or twenty-six, heading toward thirty! A girl’s age is something you can’t waste! These two years are your prime; you have to keep your eyes open during your best years! Don’t miss out on a good one! You hear me?–

As Ye Nanzhi saw Chu Ran’s expression growing darker and darker, she quickly mumbled a few responses and hung up.

She didn’t dare look at Chu Ran’s face now. She carefully pulled her arm out of the other’s grip and hurried to put her phone away.

Earlier, when Chu Ran had asked if she was happy, there was now a clear answer.

She was furious.

“Teacher… Chu?” Ye Nanzhi called out cautiously. “It’s late. Let’s head back.”

Seeing no reaction, Ye Nanzhi called her two more times.

Finally, on the third “Teacher Chu,” the other woman responded.

“Why did you leave me back then?” Chu Ran suddenly snapped her eyes up, staring directly at the young woman.

“?” The sudden question left Ye Nanzhi bewildered. But before she could process it, a barrage of questions followed.

“Didn’t you say back then that you liked him?”

“After I left, did he confess to you? Did you say yes?”

“How far did you two go? Have you met each other’s parents?”

“Oh, right. You’ve known each other since childhood. Naturally, you’ve met each other’s families long ago.” After answering her own question, Chu Ran suddenly gave a bitter laugh.

This line of questioning was undoubtedly like pouring salt onto a wound that had never truly healed.

Earlier, Tang Mu had asked her if she didn’t care about those things.

She cared. How could she not care?

What person in this world could watch someone else covet their most precious treasure—or even suspect it had been stolen—and calmly say they didn’t care?

Regarding the events of four years ago, Chu Ran had been trying to numb herself.

Maybe Ye Nanzhi had her reasons.

She was young and timid; she naturally couldn’t handle the gossip of the whole school.

She was a good daughter to her parents and a model student to her teachers. She was different from Chu Ran, who had been tempered by storms since childhood. Chu Ran could ignore certain things, but Ye Nanzhi couldn’t.

Chu Ran’s gaze gradually grew desolate. She stopped pressing, and her grip on Ye Nanzhi’s hand slowly loosened.

Seeing Chu Ran stop, Ye Nanzhi thought she could play dumb once again to avoid the interrogation, just as she had before.

However, her little plan did not survive reality. She hadn’t walked two steps before Chu Ran blocked her path.

This time, the strength was indisputable. Chu Ran grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to make eye contact.

Behind them were lush flowers and plants. Ye Nanzhi, still standing on the curb of the flower bed, was trapped in a small space by Chu Ran. She had nowhere to hide, forced to endure Chu Ran’s deep gaze that seemed to want to pierce through her entire past.

In her early twenties, Ye Nanzhi’s soft skin was delicate as porcelain—like pudding taken straight from the fridge, cool to the touch, making Chu Ran hesitate to use too much force.

Originally, after all this time, Chu Ran had deluded herself into thinking she had forgotten Ye Nanzhi.

It was with this delusion that she had boarded the flight back home. But on the night of her first dinner with Yang Huining, after dropping her off at Shen University, she had seen a familiar figure at the school gate. For a moment, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her, until she saw the other girl spinning the rabbit keychain she had gifted her on her index finger.

That keychain—the one that symbolized their break, the one that had been heartlessly thrown out a window into the vast white snow—was now hooked on that very finger.

In an instant, Chu Ran’s heart felt as if it were being sliced by a knife. But she couldn’t fathom why this was happening.

Memories flooded back like a tsunami, drowning her, suffocating her.

Chu Ran hated this feeling of losing control.

Clinging to a dark, hidden hope, Chu Ran needed answers. And so, she had come to Shen University. She had come to give her past self a satisfactory explanation.

At first, Chu Ran hadn’t been in a rush. She had rushed once four years ago, and the results were poor.

She had planned it all out: she would slowly lower this rabbit’s guard until she walked willingly into the wolf’s den.

But now, Chu Ran didn’t want to wait.

She couldn’t wait another second.

Since the rabbit was going to be carried off to the wolf’s den sooner or later anyway, she might as well snatch the clumsy thing right now.

“Ye Nanzhi, I want answers.”

Chu Ran stood below the flower bed, looking up at the girl’s darting gaze. Ye Nanzhi’s fluttering lashes were like the quivering wings of a butterfly, and the familiar scent of her body swirled around Chu Ran’s nose again.

“The keychain I gave you—didn’t you throw it away? Why did you pick it back up?”

“Why did you break up with him back then?”

“Did you ever hold hands? Did you hug?”

“Did he ever kiss you… the way I kissed you?”