When I opened my eyes again, the first thing I noticed was the quiet. There was no low murmur of Bingqing's breathing beside me, no soft rustle of her turning in her sleep.
This was… different. The sheets carried a faint trace of lavender mixed with something warmer—perhaps the scent of the woman who had given me the bed the night before. For several seconds I lay still, feeling the strange quiet settle over my chest.
I blinked slowly. Memory returned in fragments.
Bar. Drinks.
Yan Lin.
Darkness.
I sat up slowly, the cotton sheet sliding down my bare skin, and the cool air of the room brushed against my shoulders.
My head protested immediately.
A dull, pounding ache behind my eyes.
Yan Lin appeared in the doorway carrying a tray. She wore a plain black tank top and loose cotton shorts that brushed the tops of her thighs as she walked. Her hair was twisted into a loose knot at the base of her neck, and a few strands had escaped to rest against her cheek. She set the tray on the small wooden table beside the bed. Steam rose in thin, steady ribbons from a bowl of congee. Two soft-boiled eggs sat on a small plate beside it, their pale shells still warm, and a shallow dish of pickled vegetables glistened with oil. The scent of ginger and rice filled the space between us.
"Good. You're alive. I feel relieved " she said
"Me too" I laughed..
"You slept through the night,and the whole morning, it's already 12 pm " she said quietly. Her voice carried a slight huskiness, as though she had only been awake for a short while herself. "I thought you might be hungry when you woke up."
I reached for the spoon. The metal felt cool against my fingers.
"Thank you," I said, and the words came out rough, still thick with sleep.
I Took a sip.
Warm.
My body seemed to accept it immediately.
She sat on the edge of the bed, leaving a careful distance between us. We ate in near silence at first. The congee was warm and soft on my tongue, the ginger cutting through its mildness. I could hear the low hum of traffic several floors below, the occasional honk of a distant horn, and the faint clink of my spoon against the bowl. Yan Lin's breathing was steady and unhurried.
After several minutes she spoke again.
You look better than last night," she said.
"That's not a high standard," I replied.
A faint smile touched her lips.
"No. It isn't."
Another pause.
Then—
"You were talking in your sleep," she said. "Not words. Just sounds."
I did not reply. There was nothing useful to say about dreams I could not remember.
She waited a moment, then asked the same question she had posed the night before. "What will you do now?"
I set the spoon down and watched the steam continue to rise from the bowl.
"I don't know. I will wait for the paperwork to be completed, I suppose. Let things move forward."
Yan Lin studied my face. Her eyes were steady, and there was a quiet sharpness behind them that made me feel she was measuring something I had not yet put into words. "Are you not going to tell her about the divorce proceedings?"
I considered the question carefully. The evidence already sat with the lawyer. The recording from date night had been copied. There was no tactical advantage in giving Bingqing any advance warning.
"There is no need," I said finally. "I think she won't even care."
The words came out flat.
Not bitter. Just… factual.
Yan Lin leaned back slightly, her shoulders resting against the headboard. The movement made the mattress shift beneath both of us. "Are you not going to find a new house?"
I blinked.
"A new place?"
She looked at me like I had missed something obvious.
"Yes," she said. "A new home. You cannot possibly continue living in the old house with your soon-to-be ex-wife, can you?…that doesn't work."
I stared at her. Why hadn't I think of that?
The thought had never taken clear shape until she spoke it aloud. I had focused so completely on gathering evidence and preparing documents that the simple, physical reality of daily life had remained in the background.
Even if I won the house—
Even if everything legally fell into my favor—
Even if the court awarded me the house, did I truly want to remain inside those rooms? Every surface carried the imprint of years spent beside her. Her clothes still hung in the closet. Her hair products still lined the bathroom counter. The small dent in the sofa cushion where she always sat would remain until I removed it myself.
All those memories, All of them… contaminated now.
The idea of walking back into that space and pretending the past had not collapsed, felt impossible.
"No," I said at last. "I cannot live there anymore. There are too many memories. Too much pain. Too much history. Too much damage."
I exhaled slowly.
"I'll sell it," I said.
The decision felt immediate. "And get something smaller."
The house we shared had been built around a future that no longer existed. A smaller space would be enough.
She nodded as though this conclusion was obvious.
"Then find something smaller. I know a few people who can arrange something quickly," Yan Lin said, almost casually. "If you want help."
Of course she did.
She owned a bar. well more than one.
Connections.
The offer was simple and without visible strings. I looked at her for a long moment before answering.
"Yes. I would appreciate that."
#####################################
And just like that— The house hunt began that afternoon.
Yan Lin's efficiency surprised me. She made two calls while I showered in her bathroom, the hot water beating steadily against my shoulders. By the time I stepped out and dressed, she had already pulled three listings onto her phone.
We drove in her small black hatchback. She kept one hand on the wheel while the other rested lightly on the gear shift. I watched the city slide past the window—rows of apartment blocks, laundry hanging from balconies, the occasional burst of sunlight reflecting off glass towers. She spoke only when necessary, pointing out practical details: the distance to the nearest subway station, the way afternoon light entered through certain windows, whether the building had proper security at the entrance.
We visited four apartments. The first two were cramped and poorly maintained; the smell of damp walls lingered in the air of both. The third had better light but carried the sour trace of old cigarette smoke embedded in the curtains.
None of them felt right.
Until the fourth one….
The fourth sat on the fifteenth floor of a modest high-rise in the western district. It was a two-bedroom unit with a small balcony that overlooked a quiet side street. Fully furnished. Everything ready.
The kitchen appliances were already installed and clean. The bedroom contained built-in storage that ran along one wall. The living room felt open and neutral, untouched by anyone's history. I stood in the center of the space and listened to the faint hum of the air conditioner.
For the first time in many days, I felt a small, steady sense of forward movement. This felt right.
"I will take it," I said.
The rental paperwork was completed by early evening. Yan Lin's connections moved quickly; the agent met us at the building with contracts already prepared. By seven o'clock the keys rested in my palm, warm from my own hand, and the move-in date was set for the following morning.
Very efficient…
I glanced at her once.
"…you do this often?"
She smiled slightly.
"I get things done."
Now I had a new place.
A new starting point.
It felt strange.
"Now comes the difficult part," I said.
She glanced at me as she started the engine. "What ?"
"my belongings. I need to go back to the house. But I do not want to see her. I do not want to give her the opportunity to question or manipulate me."
Yes, I had to go to my house to collect some of my essential belongings.
But bingqing was there and I didn't want to meet her. Besides, seeing me moving out will raise questions and I no longer wished to face her manipulation games. I didn't want explanations.
I didn't have that much strength left in me….
Yan Lin pulled the car into traffic. "So we wait until she leaves the house."
"But how do we know when she's gone?" she added.
That was the problem.
Then—
something came to mind.
The icloud.
I took out my phone. Opened it. Logged in.
The backups. The messages.
I hadn't checked them since that night.
I had walked out of the apartment yesterday morning and had not returned since. Almost thirty-six hours had passed. During that entire stretch, Bingqing had sent me nothing. No messages. No calls. Not even a single inquiry about where I might be.
So I planned to check what she is doing.
I opened the chat history between her and Sun.
Most of yesterday consisted of light, affectionate exchanges. Light. Playful.
Like a new couple.
My name never appeared once across all those hours.
I scrolled.
Last night—
Calls.
Long Hours.
they talked for hours …Until around 1:30 a.m.
I stared at the timestamps.
No way to know what they talked about.
No way to know if I was even mentioned.
This morning, at 10:32, Bingqing had finally written something.
Li Bingqing: "He is still not back."
Sun Junfeng: "Did you call him?"
Li Bingqing: "No. He is probably just playing hard to get. He will come back when he is done sulking."
I read her response.
How she brushed it off.
Said I was probably "playing games."
That I would come back when I was done.
I stared at the screen.
Something twisted in my chest.
Something Cold. Detached.
She thinks I'm playing?
She thinks this is a game?
After everything—
After what she did—
That was what she believed? She continued to treat me as someone she could manage at her convenience.
I exhaled slowly.
There it was. The final confirmation.
There was nothing left.
Nothing worth saving.
My resolve hardened.
This—was the right decision.
I kept scrolling.
And then—something useful appeared.
A plan. Another date.
They were going out again tonight. Seven thirty o'clock pickup.
I checked the time.
Less than an hour left.
I looked up.
"She's going out," I said.
Yan Lin raised an eyebrow.
"When?"
"In about an hour. She will be out by 7.30," I said. "We can go in after that."
I calculated in my mind…
"If the pattern from the previous date held, they would not return before midnight at the earliest. That would give us four to five uninterrupted hours.That gives us a window. More than enough time."
Lin yan fall silent.. contemplating something….
And somehow I had a feeling that a very evil plan was brewing in her mind.