Qin Nan lowered his head as he wrote out the receipt, responding absentmindedly.
Zhang Yong was examining the tires. It was the first time he'd observed them so closely, and only then did he realize that the tread patterns were actually quite different. His fingers began tapping idly against his arm. "Is it difficult to deduce the car model from the tire tracks?"
"Possible, but not easy. If the tires are all original and not overly common, you might be able to trace them. But if they've been replaced or are a common type, it's much harder."
Qin Nan finished the receipt and walked over to hand it to Zhang Yong, who took it and watched as Qin Nan turned to leave. Suddenly, Zhang Yong called out, "Can you do me a favor?"
"Hmm?"
"I have a photo here of some tire tracks left on the road. Could you take a look and see what kind of car it might be?"
"I might not be able to tell for sure," Qin Nan said. Just as Zhang Yong was about to say, "Never mind," Qin Nan gestured, "Come on in."
The two sat inside. Zhang Yong made himself comfortable on the sofa while Qin Nan poured him tea and sat beside him. "Where's the photo?"
"Oh, here."
Zhang Yong pulled out a set of photos from his inner pocket and quickly flipped through to find the right one.
Throughout the process, Qin Nan kept his head down.
Zhang Yong appreciated Qin Nan's discretion—he never asked unnecessary questions or pried into things he shouldn't.
"Here," Zhang Yong handed over the photo. "Can you tell what kind of car passed through?"
Qin Nan took the photo and studied it carefully for a moment, forming a rough idea in his mind. "Not many cars passed through. I can barely make out some shapes, but the tracks overlap. It'll take some time to separate them." He returned the photo to Zhang Yong. "Why not ask your colleagues to check?"
"The complainant withdrew the case," Zhang Yong said helplessly. "It's a personal matter now, so I don’t want to bother my colleagues. They’re already swamped."
"If the case is withdrawn, why bother?"
Qin Nan casually pulled out a cigarette from his pocket as he asked.
"Withdrawn doesn’t mean there’s no case," Zhang Yong tapped the photo on the table. "If you can help find evidence to convince the complainant to reopen it, I’ll treat you to a meal."
"Small thing. I’ll do my best."
"Alright," Zhang Yong glanced at the sky outside. "I’ll head off now. Thanks."
Qin Nan nodded and saw Zhang Yong out. After returning, he took another look at the photo.
The tire tracks in the photo overlapped, and in the background, the roots of reeds were faintly visible.
He recognized the place at a glance.
There weren’t many large reed fields in Nancheng. This was one he had once thought of taking Ye Sibei to.
But he never did, and now he never would.
He took a deep drag of his cigarette, stubbed it out in the ashtray, then tucked the photo into a notebook nearby before heading out to greet a new customer at the gate, directing them to park in the yard.
"A little further, further—stop. Boss," Qin Nan approached, "Wash or repair?"
After dinner at home, Huang Guifen instructed Ye Nianwen to escort her back.
Ye Nianwen walked her to her door and hesitated before adding, "Sis, when you have time, talk things out properly with brother-in-law. If you let conflicts drag on, they’ll really become irreparable."
"Mm."
Ye Sibei nodded and urged him, "You should head back and rest early."Ye Nianwen responded, watching as Ye Sibei entered the house. He stood at the doorway for a long time, took a deep breath, then turned and left.
Ye Sibei returned to the house alone. Staring at the silent, empty space, she turned on all the lights, walked to the balcony and windows, sealed every door and window shut, then lay down on the bed.
She lay there for a long time, unable to sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, the sounds from last night echoed in her mind.
After what felt like an eternity, she sat up, opened a webpage, and typed word by word into the search bar:
"How to live after being raped?"
Lines of information popped up on the screen. She read the stories of people from all over the world who had endured similar suffering.
Some had won lawsuits after being assaulted, but because the perpetrator was an acquaintance, they were blamed for ruining lives—accused of being promiscuous, seductive, and destructive.
Some had tried to file charges but were dismissed due to insufficient evidence. They lived under public scorn, watching their attackers walk free while bearing the stigma of false accusations.
Some remained silent in real life, only venting online, only to be berated by netizens for not reporting it—called liars seeking attention.
Others simply shared their experiences in women’s forums. Some had been violated as children, others as adults, but all spent years, even decades, struggling to live like normal people again.
It was as if they hadn’t suffered an accident, but contracted an incurable disease.
The virus of this trauma lived inside them, spreading, evolving, untreatable—a lifelong agony.
Reading their words, Ye Sibei felt like she had entered a support group for the terminally ill, listening to fellow sufferers describe her future.
They told her that in the beginning, the emotions would be overwhelming, but she wouldn’t truly grasp how deeply it would shape her life.
Then, slowly, the intensity would fade, replaced by a relentless, lingering pain. A year, two years—until she realized it might never end. She would grow accustomed to it, even as despair took root.
Life would be upended in the process.
Some turned to promiscuity, others to alcoholism. Some lost all self-control, their lives spiraling into chaos. Some became so insecure and fearful they couldn’t leave their homes. Some even fell in love with their abusers, sinking into cycles of violence and violation, convincing themselves it was their choice—just to make the pain feel bearable.
No one could explain the logic behind these changes. Even the victims themselves didn’t understand, powerless as they watched their lives derail completely.
As Ye Sibei read these accounts—her future—she realized with chilling clarity that Huang Guifen had indeed chosen the best path for her.
Hide it. Stay silent. Let no one know. That way, at least, the harm would only come from within.
If she could just let go—treat it like a bite from a rabid dog—then it would be over.
This realization suffocated her, making sleep impossible.
Driven by instinct, she looked for something to do. Her eyes fell on the half-empty pack of cigarettes and lighter Qin Nan had left on the coffee table. Almost unconsciously, she took one and walked to the balcony.
Sitting on the balcony chair, she stared into the silent night and lit the cigarette.She had always followed the rules since childhood. Though she would argue with her parents and had a prickly personality, she had strictly adhered to all the standards this world set for a "good child."
Study hard, don't smoke, don't drink, don't wear heavy makeup, don't wear sleeveless clothes, don't wear skirts above the knee, don't get tattoos, don't date casually.
Yet none of this seemed to have protected her. Step by step, she had still ended up where she was now.
In the darkness of night, she reflected on herself, starting with the clumsy simplicity of just inhaling and exhaling, gradually finding some semblance of peace.
The tobacco calmed her. She watched as a faint light appeared on the horizon, bringing an inexplicable sense of security. Exhausted, she gazed at it until, in the morning breeze, she finally closed her eyes, finding a moment of tranquility.
After three days of living in reverse—night for day—her emotions slowly stabilized.
On the evening of the 12th, she received the bank's routine monthly reminder, informing her of the repayment amount and due date.
This was her cue: it was time to go back to work.
She texted Fan Jiancheng to let him know she was returning to work. That night, she sat on the balcony, smoking and drinking heavily until she could barely fall asleep.
The next morning, she stood in front of the mirror. After washing up, she looked at her haggard reflection and instinctively reached for the foundation. But the moment her fingers touched it, she froze. After a pause, she opened the storage cabinet behind the mirror, took out all the skincare and makeup products inside, and threw them into the trash with a vengeance.
She tied her hair into the most ordinary ponytail possible, using a plain hair tie without any decoration, then put on the gray tracksuit Huang Guifen had bought her and slung a sports bag over her shoulder.
Once ready, she was about to head downstairs when she suddenly noticed the sky.
Dawn hadn't broken yet, and there would be few people on the streets. She stopped in her tracks.
Too dangerous, she thought.
So she waited until the sky was fully bright before going downstairs.
She didn’t dare take the bus, afraid of any possible human contact, and could only opt for the more expensive taxi to the company. On the way, her mind was filled with questions about that night.
What exactly had happened that evening?
Who had violated her? Who else knew about it that night? How would those who knew see her? Would they talk?
These questions filled her with dread, but since she had decided to keep it all hidden, she had to live as if nothing had changed.
She needed an income, to support herself, to live as she had before.
Ye Sibei kept reinforcing this mindset. When she got out of the taxi, she gripped the straps of her bag tightly and forced herself to walk toward the Fuqiang Real Estate office.
The office was no different from usual. It was already late in the morning, and most of the staff had arrived. Fan Jiancheng stood at the entrance, directing the cleaners.
The closer she got to him, the faster her heart raced. She was almost trembling, keeping her head down as she walked into the office, pretending not to see Fan Jiancheng.
"Sibei?"
Fan Jiancheng spotted her first and was about to greet her with a smile when he noticed she wasn’t wearing the company uniform. He frowned and looked up at her. "Where’s your uniform?"
Ye Sibei said nothing, her silence a form of resistance.
"Sibei, you’re not new here. Don’t you know the company rules?" Fan Jiancheng’s tone sharpened slightly. "Why aren’t you wearing your uniform?"
"I forgot."Ye Sibei lowered her head and lied. Fan Jiancheng noticed something was off and waved his hand dismissively: "Forget it for today, but I'll deduct fifty yuan from your pay. If you forget again tomorrow, it'll be two hundred as per the rules, got it?"
Ye Sibei stood motionless. Sensing something unusual, Fan Jiancheng asked, "Sibei, what's wrong?"
"General Fan," Ye Sibei pressed her lips together tightly before finally asking the question that had been weighing on her, "that night after the drinking party, was it you who sent me home?"
"Yes," Fan Jiancheng answered straightforwardly. "Both you and Chuchu asked me to take you home. I dropped Chuchu off first, then you."
As if realizing this might make him seem biased, he quickly added, "Chuchu was really drunk that night too, and her place was on the way."
"Oh," Ye Sibei nodded, then asked softly, "Did you take me all the way to my door?"
"You were really drunk—how could you forget all this?" Fan Jiancheng chuckled. "That night, my wife called to argue with me, and you said your husband was coming to pick you up. I left before even reaching the neighborhood gate." He looked somewhat embarrassed. "Sorry for the awkward situation."
Ye Sibei didn't respond. She kept staring at him.
He seemed too natural.
Too natural to be the one.
Maybe it really was as he said—she got off early and something happened on the way.
Noticing her prolonged gaze, Fan Jiancheng grew concerned. "Sibei, what's wrong? Did something happen?"
"Oh, no."
Ye Sibei snapped out of it. "I'll get back to work."
With that, she entered the office.
Zhao Chuchu greeted her with a smile when she saw her return. "Sis, are you okay now?"
"I'm fine."
Ye Sibei sat down, and Zhao Chuchu relaxed. "Good. I’m taking a client to see a property now—we’ll talk later."
As Zhao Chuchu turned to leave, Ye Sibei suddenly called out, "Hey, Chuchu."
Zhao Chuchu turned back, puzzled. Ye Sibei bit her lip. "That night after the dinner, did we go home together?"
"Yeah," Zhao Chuchu answered, matching Fan Jiancheng's account. "But I got off first when we reached my place. General Fan took you the rest of the way. Why?"
"Oh," Ye Sibei nodded. "Nothing, just asking."
"Nothing happened, right?"
Zhao Chuchu looked at her with concern. Ye Sibei shook her head. "No, go ahead with your work."
With the client waiting, Zhao Chuchu couldn’t linger and left with a wave.
Ye Sibei returned to her seat. She lowered her head, lost in thought for a moment, then took a deep breath and began her work for the day.
A sleepless night left her dazed. She dozed through the day, barely accomplishing anything.
By five o'clock, Wang Lin came over as usual, handing her a stack of documents. "Sibei, I’m picking up my kid. I’ve left the invoices and data with you—thanks."
Ye Sibei paused her typing. Before Wang Lin could leave, she mustered the courage to speak up. "Sis Wang, I have something to do today. I need to get home before dark."
"You don’t even have kids," Wang Lin brushed her off, slinging her bag over her shoulder. "What’s the rush? Young people should work overtime. I’m off—thanks!"
With that, she hurried out.
Ye Sibei glanced at the stack of documents on her desk and frowned. After a long moment, she averted her gaze and turned back to her computer screen.
At six, when it was time to clock out, she checked the sky outside and hesitated briefly before placing the documents back on Wang Lin’s desk and walking straight out of the office.She didn't dare to refuse others.
But she feared the night even more.
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