I Woke Up And My Girlfriend Was Gone - Chapter 19

Chapter 19

The morning light was faint, and the sky was draped in a layer of pale blue.

Shen Qingzi leaned her arm lightly against the railing. Her pure white dress was tinted by the dark hues of the distant mountains, and her long hair seemed to dissolve into the morning mist. From a distance, she looked like an exquisite oil painting. She tilted her gaze toward the unknown distance, raising a cool, white arm to bring a slender cigarette to her lips.

Her crimson lips kissed the mint-colored filter. As the hazy light fell upon her face, a wisp of white smoke drifted slowly from her mouth, caught by the wind and carried toward the peaks. Zuo Yin was used to seeing people smoke in the back alleys, but she had never seen anyone use such a choking thing with such elegance.

When the cigarette was halfway finished, Shen Qingzi extinguished it. She turned around nonchalantly, and her eyes immediately met Zuo Yin’s gaze.

Shen Qingzi’s heart gave a small thud. “When did you get here?”

“Just now,” Zuo Yin replied.

Shen Qingzi nodded. “Does your head hurt?”

“Yes,” Zuo Yin answered honestly.

Upon hearing this, Shen Qingzi closed the balcony door behind her. She found the anti-hangover medicine Zhou Lin had left in a drawer. “Take this; you’ll feel better.”

Zuo Yin reached out to take the bottle, but Shen Qingzi unexpectedly caught her hand. With two light taps of the brown bottle against Zuo Yin’s palm, a small white tablet fell out. The movement was fluid, as if she had done it many times before.

Zuo Yin looked at the pill in her hand and whispered, “Thank you.”

Unaccustomed to being taken care of, she didn’t wait for Shen Qingzi to pour water and swallowed the pill dry. The rough tablet clung to her parched throat, spreading a bitter taste across the narrow passage, but Zuo Yin simply swallowed hard a few times until it went down, her face expressionless.

Shen Qingzi, holding a freshly poured glass of water, looked surprised. “Don’t you need water?”

“No,” Zuo Yin replied.

In the beginning, no one had told her to drink water with medicine, and eventually, she just got used to it.

“That’s bad for your esophagus. Remember to use water in the future,” Shen Qingzi said, placing the glass into Zuo Yin’s hands anyway.

The warmth of the water pressed against Zuo Yin’s palm through the glass, while the woman’s hand lightly brushed the back of hers. The dual warmth enveloped her, heating her chest and making even the hangover headache seem to recede.

“Mm.” Zuo Yin nodded, glancing at the wall clock. “It’s late. I have class first period; I should go.”

“I’ll see you out.” Shen Qingzi rose with her.

At six in the morning, the studio courtyard was as quiet as a secret garden. Vines wound around the trellises, and a breeze brushed over a wall of roses. The petals—pink, purple, blue, and white—were hung with early autumn dew, looking fresh and vibrant.

“By the way,” Shen Qingzi said, “it’s the National Day holiday this week. Do you have any plans?”

“Is there work?” Zuo Yin asked quickly.

Shen Qingzi nodded. “There’s an art exhibition. I want to take you with me.”

“I’m free anytime,” Zuo Yin answered immediately.

Shen Qingzi was surprised by the response. “Aren’t you going to make time to go home?”

Sunlight filtered through the vines onto Zuo Yin’s face. The girl paused visibly. The cold war with Zuo Lan hadn’t ended yet; she truly had no plans to go home.

Shen Qingzi immediately understood Zuo Yin’s hesitation. She recalled the Zuo Lan she had seen that day and the two ceramic dolls on the windowsill. “Go back and visit. Your mother might be waiting for you at home.”

Zuo Yin pursed her lips, neither nodding nor shaking her head. She couldn’t bring herself to refuse Shen Qingzi, but she didn’t want to be the one to bow her head first.

The fresh morning sun lit up the traffic outside. The moment they left the studio grounds, the world became noisy again. By the time they reached the bus stop, Zuo Yin still hadn’t given an answer. The small space between them was exceptionally quiet.

“Zuo Yin,” Shen Qingzi called out suddenly.

Zuo Yin looked at her in surprise. Looking back against the sunlight, she was met with a tender smile—like a double-petaled peony suddenly blooming, layers of soft petals opening to release a rich, non-cloying fragrance.

Shen Qingzi raised her arm, her slender hand resting on Zuo Yin’s shoulder. As she helped straighten the hoodie bunched up behind Zuo Yin’s neck, she asked, “Doesn’t that feel uncomfortable?”

Shen Qingzi hadn’t changed clothes. Her faint floral scent, mixed with a hint of alcohol, drifted onto Zuo Yin with her movements. With one breath, Zuo Yin’s heart rate instinctively quickened.

Time seemed to stretch and stop. Every tiny movement Shen Qingzi made played out frame-by-frame before Zuo Yin’s eyes. Yet, time also seemed to speed up; in less than ten seconds, Shen Qingzi had fixed the hood. She smiled. “There, all better.”

Zuo Yin blinked unnaturally. “…Thank you.”

Shen Qingzi smiled. “The holiday is seven days long. We can go to the exhibition any day. Think about it and contact me on WeChat.”

“Okay.” Zuo Yin nodded, tucking a stray hair behind her ear.

Just then, the blue-green bus heading toward the Academy of Fine Arts pulled up. Zuo Yin said goodbye and boarded. Only when the bus started moving did Shen Qingzi turn and walk in the opposite direction.

Her back was perfectly straight. Her jet-black hair fell like a waterfall to her waist, glowing with a soft, beautiful luster in the sun. Her white tiered dress swayed like iris petals in the wind, and her pale ankles flashed in and out of sight, drawing the eye.

Zuo Yin raised her hand and lightly caught the scent of Shen Qingzi still lingering on her fingers.

…

On the first day of the National Day holiday, the sky was woven with dark clouds. The drizzle that had started in the morning didn’t let up; by evening, it showed signs of becoming a downpour.

Traffic was heavy due to the rain. Yuan Yuan and the others had left for the train station early. When Zuo Yin woke up, the dorm was empty. A sense of loneliness, chilled by the wind blowing into the room, took hold. Shen Qingzi’s words echoed in her mind: “Your mother might be waiting for you at home.”

Thinking that she hadn’t been home for nearly a month, Zuo Yin recalled Zuo Lan’s thin figure sitting by the window every holiday during high school. Her heart softened.

The alley was the same; the house was the same. But with the red bricks and green tiles soaked in rain, it gained a sense of peaceful stability. Zuo Yin took a few photos of the alley before taking out her key to open the door.

The lights were on inside. The entire first floor was bright, unaffected by the gloom outside. Zuo Lan was, as expected, in the living room. She was wearing a simple dress, lying on a sofa she must have recently bought. Beer bottles were cluttered across the floor. Despite the open window, the inescapable smell of alcohol hit Zuo Yin immediately.

Zuo Yin frowned. “Hey. You trying to kill yourself?”

Hearing someone speak, Zuo Lan squinted toward the voice. After a moment, she croaked uncertainly, “…Zuo Yin? You little brat actually knew to come back?”

“It’s the holidays, so I came back,” Zuo Yin replied, kicking a beer bottle out of her way.

“Didn’t expect it, did you? I’ve been doing great this past month!” Zuo Lan laughed like a manic drunk. “Once you left, I started making a killing! Hahaha…”

Zuo Yin saw the expensive lady’s cigarette between Zuo Lan’s fingers. In Zuo Lan’s hand, such a delicate cigarette looked like a sign of debauchery, but in Shen Qingzi’s hand, it had looked ethereal. At this thought, the disgust on Zuo Yin’s face became obvious.

“What’s with that face?”

A dissatisfied shriek rang out, followed by Zuo Lan grabbing a beer bottle. It flew straight toward Zuo Yin’s head. Zuo Yin reacted quickly, dodging just in time. The bottle shattered against the floor behind her with a sharp crash.

Green glass shards scattered everywhere. A thick piece of glass flew up and sliced right across Zuo Yin’s exposed arm. A bright red gash opened on her pale skin, and beads of blood raced to escape the narrow wound. Pain shot through her brain like an electric current.

“Sss.” Zuo Yin hissed, snapping, “Zuo Lan, are you insane?! You trying to kill me?! If I’m dead, no one’s going to bury you!”

“Hah! You’ve been waiting for me to die, haven’t you! You’re disappointed to see me alive, aren’t you! You wish me and the baby in my belly were dead!” When Zuo Lan was drunk, she remembered the past—she remembered the bastard man who had abandoned his wife and child.

Zuo Yin had been caught in the rain on her way back. Her short hair was tucked behind her ears, wet and matted to her scalp. She looked exactly like that man.

Zuo Lan lost all grip on reality, glaring viciously at the person before her. “I’m telling you, it’s not happening. I’d rather feed my money to a dog than give it to you! Not even when I die!”

Zuo Yin knew Zuo Lan was incoherent again. She was used to this. As usual, she ignored her and turned toward her room, clutching the wound on her arm. But this time, Zuo Lan’s reaction exceeded her expectations of madness.

As Zuo Yin reached the stairs by the door, a massive force tackled her to the ground. Seeing the “bastard man” trying to leave, Zuo Lan lunged at her, her skeletal fingers clenching tightly around Zuo Yin’s neck.

Zuo Yin had never faced this before. She struggled to turn around, only to see the pure malice on Zuo Lan’s face. Her upturned eyes looked like they were dripping blood. “You’re not going up there! Get out! Don’t you dare try to take my daughter away from me!”

Choked, Zuo Yin couldn’t breathe. Retching, oxygen deprivation, and blurred vision hit her all at once. Knowing she would eventually be strangled to death, she sucked in a desperate breath and used all her strength to kick Zuo Lan hard in the stomach.

Zuo Lan’s frame was fragile. The kick sent her sprawling onto the floor, and her grip loosened. Zuo Yin stood up, gasping for air, a bright red handprint stark on her slender neck. Before she could catch her breath, Zuo Lan was up again, veins bulging as she lunged once more.

Zuo Yin scrambled to open the door behind her and fled into the night.

The rain was torrential. Passing cars sent sheets of cold water splashing onto the sidewalk. In the pitch-black world lit by neon, Zuo Yin left the place called “home” the same way she had arrived. She held a battered old umbrella against the crowd, heading back toward the school she had just left that morning.

Crazy woman, Zuo Yin cursed. A sudden gale whipped up, making the withered branches of old trees sway wildly. It also shook Zuo Yin’s broken umbrella until it seemed ready to collapse. The cold rain lashed her face, and the hand gripping the handle was covered in droplets.

Finally, the umbrella couldn’t take it anymore. A headwind flipped it completely inside out. The tattered sky-blue umbrella danced away in the wind. Zuo Yin, already damp, was now completely soaked. The wet fabric clung to her thighs, making her skin look deathly pale.

Holding the broken umbrella, Zuo Yin found a roof to hide under and rest. Her face showed no emotion; even the disgust she felt for Zuo Lan on the road had vanished. All that remained was a pitiful, frozen calm. She leaned against the icy brick wall and closed her eyes.

The school was only a few minutes away. She just had to endure a little longer. The sound of the downpour filled her ears, and the cold wind bit at her. Despite her resolve, Zuo Yin found herself fantasizing about how nice a warm embrace would feel right now.

“Zuo Yin?”

Suddenly, a shadow fell over her. The rain stopped. The scent of irises drifted past, and a woman’s gentle voice pierced through the chaotic sound of the storm.

Zuo Yin opened her eyes, which were wet with droplets. Shen Qingzi was standing in front of her, holding a large black umbrella.