Chen Yi rummaged through every corner, meticulously searching through all of Wei Mingzhen's belongings in her room. None of the family's bankbooks, bank cards, or documents remained, and Wei Mingzhen's personal identification documents were completely gone. All she had left for Chen Yi was a pile of useless scrap paper related to Chen Libin.
The departure was abrupt and clearly premeditated—whether it was Wei Mingzhen's own idea or influenced by someone else remained unknown.
He sat on a chair, exhaling deeply as he bent forward, elbows resting on his knees, hands buried in his hair. He numbly ran his fingers through his thick, tousled locks. Miao Jing sat in the living room, staring blankly, the tears in her eyes long dried, leaving only faint traces in their depths. In the last glimmer of the setting sun, they reflected a faint, dwindling light before fading into a dim, hopeless gloom.
Wei Mingzhen didn't reply to messages or answer calls. The next day, Chen Yi got Miao Jing a new phone with an unfamiliar number to call Wei Mingzhen, but the phone was still turned off. Miao Jing sent a text to Wei Mingzhen, saying she was Miao Jing, truly Miao Jing, recounting childhood memories from their hometown and pleading for Wei Mingzhen to answer the call.
Finally... a landline number lit up the screen.
After waiting for what felt like an eternity, both Miao Jing and Chen Yi's frozen gazes stirred. He gestured for her to answer the call, putting it on speakerphone.
It was Wei Mingzhen, calling from a public phone booth.
"Mom," Miao Jing's voice trembled with suppressed tears.
"Why didn't you want to come along?" Whether out of nervousness or some other reason, Wei Mingzhen didn't notice Miao Jing's state and spoke with anxious impatience. "I called you beforehand and told you to just follow the person. Why didn't you get in the taxi? You even threatened to call the police. Miao Jing, what's wrong with you? Do you want to stay in Tengcheng? Alone? How do you plan to stay there?"
It was unclear how the man had explained things to Wei Mingzhen.
Miao Jing was stunned. Chen Yi stared intently at her, making a throat-slitting gesture with his lips silently moving, urging her to follow his lead.
"Mom, I... I didn't..." she whispered faintly. "Mom, where are you?"
"Where are you?" Wei Mingzhen asked cautiously. "Are you at school or somewhere else? Has Chen Yi... has he given you any trouble?"
"I'm at home. Chen Yi... he went out to buy something. I'm alone here... He hasn't troubled me... We get along fine... Mom, where are you? When will you come back for me?"
Wei Mingzhen only said she wasn't in Tengcheng.
"Mom... please come back. Come back quickly. Chen Yi hasn't troubled me. Please come home soon..." Miao Jing cautiously glanced at the person in front of her and quickly added, "Brother treats me well. Don't worry about me..."
Chen Yi suddenly frowned.
"I have some matters to attend to. I'll come back once they're settled. Miao Jing, take care of yourself for now. Go back to school and attend your classes. Let me think... I'll contact you again in a couple of days."
The call ended as abruptly as it had come.
Miao Jing was dazed and disoriented. Chen Yi's face was tense, as if he wanted to say something, but in the end, he sprawled back on the sofa, closed his eyes, and his eyeballs shifted slowly beneath his thin eyelids.
After two days of staying home to recover, both of them had come to accept the reality—Wei Mingzhen was gone, and no one knew when she would return.Neither of them left the house. Chen Yi smoked and played video games without restraint, and they lived on takeout—mostly eaten by Chen Yi, who tossed a little to Miao Jing just to keep her from starving. Aside from using the bathroom, she wasn’t allowed to move out of his sight. Miao Jing could only sleep on the sofa. After a few nights, whether it was the thick smoke or the shock and exhaustion, she developed a fever.
She had always been healthy and rarely fell ill, but this fever came on suddenly. Her whole body burned with heat, and she lay listlessly with her eyes closed, sleeping. Even when Chen Yi ate, she remained motionless, curled up on the sofa with her back to him. Occasionally, she would get up to drink a few sips of water before lying back down to sleep, enduring it like this. Chen Yi occasionally glanced at her, noticing her curled up on the sofa, her black hair disheveled and her eyes sunken. It didn’t seem like an act—she was clearly unwell. But Miao Jing didn’t utter a word, and he, in his foul mood, paid her no mind, focusing only on his own eating, drinking, and entertainment.
Miao Jing hadn’t eaten all day. As Chen Yi passed through the living room, he noticed she had shifted her sleeping position. Her slender limbs were splayed out, dangling over the edge of the sofa, her cheek pressed against the cushion, her delicate features tightly scrunched up.
He walked over to take a look. Seeing no reaction from her, he moved away, making some noise by tapping on the coffee table. Miao Jing showed no response, only letting out a soft sigh as she unconsciously wrapped her arms around her burning face. Impatiently, Chen Yi reached out a hand to touch her forehead but hesitated and withdrew it.
“Miao Jing.”
Miao Jing opened her eyes, glanced at him dazedly, then curled her body into a ball, squeezing herself into the corner of the sofa before closing her eyes and falling back asleep.
Her thin shoulders rose and fell gently, her weak breaths heavy and uneven.
“What a fucking hassle,” Chen Yi muttered with a frown of disgust. He went to a nearby pharmacy to buy some fever-reducing medicine, tossed it onto the coffee table, and kicked the sofa. “Miao Jing.”
Miao Jing let out a faint hum, her lips dry and stuck together. She moved slightly but didn’t manage to part them.
Hands on his hips, he stood watching her lack of response. Roughly, he yanked Miao Jing up from the sofa. “Get up! Are you mute? Can’t you speak?”
Dazed and disoriented, she hung limply in his grasp. Her fingers were soft and cold, but her cheeks burned like fire. Weak and utterly drained, Miao Jing furrowed her delicate brows, half-opened her eyes, and said nothing, allowing him to shove her back onto the sofa. Chen Yi handed her a bottle of water and a handful of pills, his face dark. “Take the medicine. Stop pretending to be dead.”
She swallowed all the pills and gulped down most of the water. Her lips regained a bit of color, and her pale, weak complexion seemed slightly revived. Chen Yi watched her and let out a cold, mocking laugh. “What’s with the pitiful act? Do you think it’ll help? If Wei Mingzhen doesn’t come back, even if you die, no one will care.”
Miao Jing’s eyes were red from the fever, bloodshot as she blinked slowly.
The medicine took effect, and she slept again. When she woke, she felt somewhat better but remained half-dead, lying listlessly on the sofa. Chen Yi strode over with a grim expression, tossed a takeout container of congee in front of her, and said abruptly, his voice cold, “Consider it even.”
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