The timeline rewinds to April 8, 2018. That afternoon at six, Nan City was still drizzling with rain.
The light rain made travel exceptionally difficult. Cars swerved recklessly through the streets, some moving, others stopping abruptly. Pedestrians huddled under umbrellas by the roadside, hailing rides, adding to the chaos that mirrored the downpour.
Due to the gloomy weather, many employees at Fuqiang Real Estate hadn’t left after work, opting to wait out the rush hour.
Idle workers gathered in small groups, chatting while waiting for their takeout. Only Ye Sibei sat alone at her desk, headphones blocking most of the noise as she focused intently on entering data.
"Last night at 1 a.m., a violent criminal case occurred in Xinchun Street, Shanghe District. The victim was a young woman dressed in a black top, a body-hugging miniskirt, and red high heels. Surveillance footage shows her being forcibly taken away by several men at the intersection of Xinchun South Road and Binhe East Road. She has yet to return home, and the police have launched a citywide search. Citizens with any leads are urged to call our hotline..."
The wall-mounted screen in the lobby played the latest local news. Amid the broadcast, a deliveryman’s voice cut through: "Miss Ye, your order!"
"Coming!" Ye Sibei removed her headphones, smoothly stood up, and hurried to the entrance in her high heels to collect two large bags of boxed meals.
"Thank you," she said warmly. The deliveryman replied with a quick "No problem" before jogging off. Ye Sibei carried the meals back to her workstation, unpacked the bags, and began distributing them to her seated colleagues.
Only then did she catch the topic of their conversation.
"Honestly, what was that girl thinking, wandering around at 1 a.m. with no sense of caution?"
"Sister Tao, your twice-cooked pork." Ye Sibai handed a box to the middle-aged woman speaking—Tao Jie—who took it without looking up, muttering a perfunctory "Thanks" before continuing her gossip. "I’ve always told my daughter—no going out after 8 p.m. What kind of decent woman stays out so late at night?"
"Xiaoyang, your kung pao chicken."
"Thanks, Sister Ye." The young man who accepted the meal, Chen Xiaoyang, appeared to be in his early twenties. After eagerly taking the box, he immediately turned back to chime in with Tao Jie. "Sister Tao’s right. Girls need to be more careful, properly educated. Not to blame the victim, but let’s be real—wearing high heels, a tight skirt, and makeup at 1 a.m.? That’s like a lamb walking into a pack of wolves, practically asking for trouble."
"Chen Xiaoyang, did she tempt you ?"
A female voice teased, prompting scattered laughter from most of the men and some of the women.
The sound made Ye Sibei frown, but she had no intention of joining the discussion. She carried the last meal to a beautiful woman seated not far from her desk.
The woman wore Fuqiang Real Estate’s uniform—a pricey, custom-designed set by the company’s top boss. The figure-hugging skirt, tailored blazer, and black stockings gave off an air of professionalism and allure.Ye Sibei always felt quite constrained in her work uniform. Whenever the boss wasn't around, she would drape a cloak over herself, and outside the company, she would cover up completely with a coat regardless of the season.
But this young woman seemed to love the outfit. She had even deliberately shortened the skirt, which, paired with her curvaceous figure and striking makeup, made her stand out in an eye-catching way.
As Ye Sibei approached, the woman was touching up her makeup. She leaned toward the mirror propped on the desk, applying a vibrant shade of lipstick to her full lips.
While she painted her lips, her legs beneath the desk were restless—one crossed over the other, the shoe on her dangling foot half-off, teetering on her toes as she swayed slightly, as if teasing the onlooker's heart.
Watching her movements, Ye Sibei instinctively glanced back at Tao Jie and her group, unsurprised to see them whispering not far away.
She quickly averted her gaze and walked up to the woman, placing a lunch box on the desk.
"Chuchu, your tomato beef stew rice."
"Hmm?" Hearing Ye Sibei's voice, Zhao Chuchu looked up. When she saw her, she frowned. "Sis, why are you the one fetching lunch again?"
Zhao Chuchu was the only one in the office who would stand up for her—because she was the girlfriend of Ye Sibei’s younger brother, Ye Nianwen.
Nian Wen and Zhao Chuchu had been dating since high school and were still together now. Though Zhao Chuchu had only graduated from a vocational school and didn’t have a stable job, she was a local only child, which made her a decent match for Nian Wen, who had just become a lawyer. The Ye family had no objections.
As colleagues, Ye Sibei knew the girl’s temperament well and liked her a lot.
"It’s no big deal this time."
Ye Sibei smiled. "I’ll get back to work."
"Hey, wait." Zhao Chuchu grabbed her. "Didn’t you tell me this afternoon that your work was done? Why are you still staying late?"
"Sister Wang has to pick up her kid, so she asked me to help out."
"She’s always picking up her kid—she can’t have you covering for her every day." Zhao Chuchu sounded displeased. "I’ll talk to her tomorrow."
"It’s really not a big deal..."
The moment Zhao Chuchu mentioned confronting Sister Wang, Ye Sibei felt a pang of unease.
She glanced at Zhao Chuchu’s exposed legs, pursed her lips, and changed the subject. "Maybe you should lengthen your skirt a bit."
Zhao Chuchu raised an eyebrow. Ye Sibei bent down slightly. "I heard there’s been a creep around lately. A girl got dragged away in the middle of the night. You should be careful."
At this, Zhao Chuchu laughed. "If someone’s a predator, no amount of covering up will stop them."
"But you still need to take precautions. Better safe than sorry." Ye Sibei frowned. "Or have Nian Wen pick you up—"
"I am prepared." Zhao Chuchu cut her off, reaching into her bag. With a grin, she pulled something out between her fingers. The moment Ye Sibei saw what it was, she gasped and pressed Zhao Chuchu’s hand down. "What are you doing?!"
"I read an expert’s advice," Zhao Chuchu leaned in, lowering her voice. "Always carry a condom. If you really run into a predator, offer it proactively. That way, they’ll think you won’t report them—prevents STDs, minimizes harm, and increases survival odds."
"You—"
Ye Sibei flushed red, too embarrassed to continue. "What nonsense are you spouting?"
"Sis, I’m dead serious."As she spoke, Zhao Chuchu patted her hand: "Take an extra one home and keep it in your bag. There are too many creeps out there—better safe than sorry."
"Stop joking around."
Ye Sibei felt like her hand that had touched the thing was burning. Blushing, she turned away: "I need to go work overtime first."
"Hey, sis," Zhao Chuchu called out to Ye Sibei, who turned back to look at her. Zhao Chuchu's smile faded as she pursed her lips. After a long pause, she finally asked, "Has... has your husband come home yet?"
Ye Sibei's expression froze. Seeing the concern on Zhao Chuchu's face, she was about to say something when Ye Sibei spoke first: "He said he’d be back tonight. It’s fine."
Zhao Chuchu seemed to exhale in relief and smiled. "That’s good. Nian Wen and I are about to get married soon. If you two still haven’t made up by then, I’d feel bad celebrating something happy while you’re upset."
"Don’t be silly," Ye Sibei reassured her. "What couple doesn’t argue? Fights at the head of the bed are resolved at the foot. It’s nothing."
"True," Zhao Chuchu nodded, but then couldn’t help asking again, "But sis, what exactly did you and your husband fight about?"
"Just trivial things," Ye Sibei avoided answering directly. "Hurry up and finish eating so you can get back to work. Go home once the rain stops—don’t stay too late."
With that, Ye Sibei returned to her seat and began tackling the work that wasn’t even hers to do.
The rain had been falling all afternoon and was finally tapering off. Before long, it gradually lightened.
Zhao Chuchu left early, and as the office emptied, only a few salespeople remained working overtime.
By around eight, Ye Sibei finally finished. She locked all the cabinets one by one and headed for the door.
Chen Xiaoyang was carrying a cup of tea back to his desk when he spotted Ye Sibei. Glancing toward the entrance, he asked curiously, "Sister Ye, your husband didn’t come to pick you up?"
"Ah," Ye Sibei nodded awkwardly. "He’s been busy lately."
"Oh," Chen Xiaoyang realized he might have touched on a sensitive topic and scratched his head sheepishly. "Well, be careful on your way home."
Ye Sibei murmured an acknowledgment and quickly fled the office. After she left, Chen Xiaoyang leaned against the partition of his desk, staring in the direction she’d disappeared, and asked Tao Jie, who was counting money nearby, "Sister Tao, has Sister Ye been fighting with her husband lately? He used to come for her every day."
"More than just fighting—they might be getting a divorce."
Tao Jie tapped away at her calculator. "Zhao Chuchu is dating her brother, Ye Nianwen, right? Now they’re about to get married, and the Ye family needs to buy a house. But Ye Nianwen just graduated this year—where would he get the money? The parents scraped together what they could and forced Ye Sibei to take out a 50,000-yuan personal loan. Just the other day, she got a salary verification from General Fan and specifically asked him not to tell anyone, especially Zhao Chuchu."
"General Fan said it right then," Tao Jie looked up at Chen Xiaoyang with disdain, "Ye Sibei’s got a screw loose. People who can’t say ‘no’ will ruin themselves sooner or later."
The rain seemed to be picking up again.
Spring was bidding farewell in the most detestable way to these faithless souls on the cusp of summer.
Ye Sibei dragged her exhausted body onto the bus home, umbrella in hand.
The bus was no longer crowded. She found a window seat in the back row and sat down, feeling a faint flicker of happiness.Amid the chaos of life, she felt a quiet gratitude for the small stroke of luck she had.
Leaning against the window, she gazed at the rain-blurred world outside. It was bathed in the warm glow of streetlights, mingling with the glare of car headlights and the kaleidoscope of neon signs, transforming the entire scene into a dazzling spectacle.
She watched as people in raincoats sped past on motorcycles, children clinging to them.
She saw others shielding their heads with bags, scurrying by in quick steps.
Like a mere spectator of the world, everything seemed detached from her. She dared not let her mind wander to the tangled mess of her life in this fleeting moment of peace, though she knew full well there were countless matters demanding her attention. Yet, in this rare tranquility, she wished for nothing more than to remain undisturbed.
But fate had other plans. Her phone vibrated softly. Glancing down, she saw a message from the contact labeled "Qin Nan."
"Coming home late," it read.
Ye Sibei replied wearily, "Okay."
She knew she ought to ask if he had eaten or if he was dressed warmly enough—to play the part of the dutiful wife.
But in that moment, she couldn’t bring herself to care.
It was times like these when she realized with painful clarity that she didn’t love her husband, nor did she find any happiness in her marriage.
Even when she tried to convince herself that marriage wasn’t so bad, she struggled to conjure up a clear image of who Qin Nan really was.
They were strangers, in truth.
Before marriage, they had known each other for only six months, meeting once a week for a meal. After a year of marriage, their lives were a cycle of early departures and late returns. He was always busy with work, collapsing into bed the moment he got home.
He was a man of few words, and she, reserved and somewhat intimidated by him, had spent the year skimming only the surface of who he was—facts that could be neatly summarized in a few lines.
Twenty-eight years old. An only child from the countryside. His parents had left to work in the cities when he was young, leaving him to be raised by his grandfather. His father died in a construction accident when he was seventeen; his mother later ran off with another man, taking what little money they had. He dropped out of high school, drifted from place to place, and eventually learned auto repair. Returning to Nancheng, he opened a small shop. His grandfather passed away two years ago, leaving him completely alone.
His shop was called "Snowflake Auto," likely named after his favorite beer, Snowflake.
He rarely spoke, enjoyed boxing, smoked, and did chores without being asked. He didn’t care for the Ye family.
Beyond that, she knew nothing about him.
And she had no desire to learn more.
What she needed, in truth, was simply the marriage itself—a shield against standing out as an anomaly.
She didn’t know what he thought, but chances were, it was the same.
After all, in the cycles of time, the freer people became, the more numb they grew.
When love was rare and precious, people yearned for it desperately—like the Butterfly Lovers, or Romeo and Juliet.
But when love faced no obstacles and became easily attainable, it reverted to its original form.
It had always been the most extravagant and least practical of all emotions. Even without barriers, few truly possessed it.
Ye Sibei believed they had simply reached the right age and settled for each other.
Their reluctance was palpable, their incompatibility so stark that even their arguments were nearly wordless.
Every fight ended the same way: she would say sorry, he would say he needed space, then spend the night on the balcony, chain-smoking two packs of cigarettes.This argument stemmed from her secretly taking out a 50,000-yuan credit loan to help Ye Nianwen buy a house for his marriage.
When Qin Nan found out, he finally lost his temper. Holding his jacket, clenching his fists, he stared at her with burning intensity.
"Ye Sibei, do you just think your life is already set in stone, so you refuse to plan anything for yourself?"
All she could do was repeat, "I'm sorry."
He didn’t respond. For a moment, she thought he might actually hit her.
She shrank back in fear, and that seemed to anger him even more. He turned away, kicked over a chair, stormed out of the house, and didn’t return.
Not until today did he finally text her, saying he’d be back in the evening.
The bus arrived at the stop, and Ye Sibei stepped off, dragging her exhausted body into the neighborhood. She wondered what she could do tonight to salvage her marriage.
Their home was in an old residential area on the outskirts of the city. Unlike the flashy modern buildings, this one was a plain rectangular block standing on a concrete foundation—eight units in a row, no elevator, just a single stairwell on the right side leading to each household.
For Ye Sibei, the hardest part of every day was climbing those stairs.
In her high heels, she trudged up floor by floor until she reached the fifth level. Finally at her door, she pulled out her keys, unlocked it, and flicked on the light with a practiced motion.
The light flooded the modest 70-square-meter, two-bedroom apartment. No one else was home. Ye Sibei set down her bag, changed into home clothes, then headed to the kitchen to cook. She pulled ingredients from the fridge and started chopping.
A tomato and egg stir-fry, cucumber with sliced pork, and seaweed egg drop soup—simple dishes, nothing too complicated.
Once done, she set the food on the table and began the tedious wait.
When the dishes cooled, she reheated them. When she had nothing else to do, she cleaned.
By 11:30 p.m., she was slumped over the dining table, nearly asleep, when she heard the click of the door.
She jolted awake to see a man standing in the doorway.
He looked to be in his late twenties—tall, with sharp, handsome features. He wore a grease-stained army-green T-shirt, mud-splattered jeans, and carried a jacket over his arm. In his hand was a grimy briefcase, as if he’d just crawled back from somewhere.
Ye Sibei stared blankly at him. His gaze landed on the dining table, and he froze too. After a long silence, he spoke first.
"Got called for a last-minute job—had to help someone change a tire out in the suburbs. Rainy days mean more trouble. If I didn’t go, they’d have been stuck there overnight."
"Oh," Ye Sibei snapped out of her daze and quickly stood. "You haven’t eaten, right? Let me heat this up for you."
With that, she carried the dishes back to the kitchen.
The man hesitated at the door before finally stripping off his outer clothes. He pulled a file from his bag and placed it on a chair by the table, then walked barefoot to the bathroom.
She reheated the food, filled a bowl with rice, and waited at the table.
After a while, the man came out, now dressed in his usual attire—a blue T-shirt and white casual pants. His damp hair clung to his tanned skin, droplets sliding down in a way that was almost... distracting.
Ye Sibei sensed something off but forced a smile. "You’re home now—why not change into pajamas?"Qin Nan didn't answer her. Looking at the food before them, he spoke calmly, "Let's eat first."
Ye Sibei didn't argue. They both lowered their heads to eat. Throughout the meal, apart from the sounds of chewing and the occasional clink of porcelain, there wasn't a single word exchanged between them.
After finishing, she stood up to clear the dishes. "You go to bed first. I'll clean up."
"Wait," the man's voice was calm. "There's something I need to say to you."
Ye Sibei paused. He emphasized again, "Sit down."
Ye Sibei didn't speak. She vaguely had a premonition. After what felt like a long time, she finally turned around and slowly sat back down.
Once she was seated, he still didn't speak. In the seemingly endless silence, it was ultimately Qin Nan who broke it.
"Ye Sibei," Qin Nan's voice was very low, "let's get a divorce."
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