Weakness Trap - Chapter 29

“Yu Lingxue isn’t it?” Zeng Lan recognized the visitor but deliberately aimed a jab at her.

“I know. You just got engaged to that person yesterday, didn’t you?” Zeng Lan curled her lips slightly and tilted her head to gesture vaguely.

She pointed toward a spot where an advertisement still hung, not yet taken down.

The photo of Yu Lingxue and Yan Lanshen was painfully glaring.

Even more unbearable to look at was the line of text above it:

Congratulations to Yan Lanshen and Yu Lingxue on Their Engagement

Nearby, oblivious onlookers gazed at the sign, sighing and taking photos, gossiping about the wealthy families, remarking how well matched they were a powerful union.

Yu Lingxue trembled at the sight of the sign, the corners of her eyes quickly flushing red, her breathing growing heavier.

“That’s not.” She tried to explain but was coldly cut off by Zeng Lan.

“Who are you putting on this act for? No matter how many tears you shed, I won’t feel an ounce of pity.” Her tone was sharp, laced with such mockery that even the wind seemed to retreat.

But Yu Lingxue seemed not to notice, instead taking a step forward.

“I know, I know I shouldn’t have, I made a mistake. I just, I just wanted to say a word to Xiao Niao, to Qingluan.”

She seemed to be holding back tears, her entire body tensed, struggling to keep the tears at bay without letting a trace of distress show.

Yet her hair was a tangled mess, damp with dew and mist, clinging haphazardly to her face in disarray.

Her clothes were mismatched, buttons misaligned.

She looked as if she had rushed out in a hurry. It was unclear whether she had walked or taken a vehicle this far. The ticket office was atop a hill, requiring her to climb hundreds of steps on her own.

Had Zeng Lan not known the context, she might have felt nothing.

But from a distance, Yu Qingluan felt a sharp pang in her chest.

Someone who couldn’t even run or jump freely had chased all this way just to say a word to her?

“You’re quite well-informed,” Zeng Lan said without urgency, stalling as she shifted to block Yu Lingxue’s line of sight.

Truthfully, she didn’t want Yu Qingluan to see Yu Lingxue.

Everyone knew how much Yu Qingluan had adored this person.

And everyone knew what despicable things this person had done.

By reason and emotion, they should have no further contact. It was better for both of them that way.

Yu Lingxue lowered her head, offering no explanation, silently admitting she had resorted to unconventional means.

“I just want to see her once. Just to say a word, I beg you…” Yu Lingxue sounded more humble than ever before.

This humility wasn’t an act it couldn’t be faked.

It emanated from the very core of her being.

But from a distance, Yu Qingluan couldn’t sense it.

Especially since Zeng Lan’s words had jolted her awake.

She remembered how she used to agonize over whether to send a message or make a call when she wanted to reach Yu Lingxue.

How she would sneak into secluded spots to browse forums, searching Yu Lingxue’s name, nickname, or alias like a thief.

How she would gaze at the affectionate nicknames others gave Yu Lingxue, at photos of her taken across campus, scavenging for any trace of her presence.

In the end, she would even feel content cropping a photo, staring at it for five minutes before deleting it, along with the unsent messages in her chatbox.

Then she would return to her rightful place, endlessly repeating Yu Lingxue’s name, wondering whether to make her a gift, what topics to discuss, how intimate they would be the next time they met.

Just like that, she waited for Yu Lingxue to come.

She was like a stray dog adopted by Yu Lingxue, kept outside that happy home, shedding tears as she gazed at the warmth inside, wagging her tail and begging for pity, waiting for her owner to remember her and give her a pat on the head or bring her a bone and somehow, even that was enough to satisfy her.

Yu Qingluan pressed a hand to her chest.

She no longer wanted to live like this.

What did it matter whether there was love or not?

What did it matter if she liked Yu Lingxue?

It was just that now, she didn’t want to keep being Yu Lingxue’s dog anymore.

Let alone a dog that couldn’t even be brought out in public.

Yan Lanshen had money and power. No one had ever heard of any past emotional entanglements between them, yet he could plaster their seemingly affectionate photos all over Hong Kong.

She and Yu Lingxue had been together for over a year, and at Chu University, fewer than three people knew about their relationship.

One of them had even come to tell her they weren’t suited for each other, rationally advising them to break up.

In fact, what Su Lian said was quite right.

They just weren’t compatible.

They were bound to break up sooner or later.

Ending it here without crying or making a scene in front of Yu Lingxue, without listening to Yu Lingxue’s outdated excuses wasn’t that better?

At least their ending was abrupt, but still dignified.

She didn’t want to cry and tell Yu Lingxue how much it hurt. She didn’t want Yu Lingxue to see her tears.

She didn’t want to accept even a shred of pity or affection from her anymore.

It was enough to stop here.

Yu Qingluan clenched her fists. Xiang Yan patted her shoulder worriedly, discreetly glancing at Zeng Lan, who was confronting Yu Lingxue.

“What’s the use of begging me? I’m not her guardian,” Zeng Lan laughed coldly at Yu Lingxue.

She was mocking Yu Lingxue for clutching at straws in desperation, and for not treating Yu Qingluan like a person.

Yu Lingxue caught the underlying meaning in her words and urgently tried to explain. “That’s not what I meant, it’s just that you’ve been blocking me.”

Zeng Lan shifted slightly to the side.

“Fine, go ask her yourself. If she’s willing to see you and hear you out, then none of us have any objections.”

Yu Qingluan was no longer hidden from view.

Yu Lingxue’s line of sight cleared, and she saw Yu Qingluan standing in the crowd.

Yu Qingluan was standing with her friend, the two of them looking quite intimate.

Her friend was stroking her back, whispering something to her.

Yu Lingxue felt uncomfortable watching but could do nothing about it. She could only look at Yu Qingluan with pleading eyes, her expression crumbling into dust.

The moment Yu Qingluan’s gaze swept over her, Yu Lingxue’s tears fell.

How many days had it been since Yu Lingxue left without a word?

This was actually the first time they had made eye contact since then.

Almost instantly, the tears Yu Lingxue had been holding back for so long came crashing down.

They became a waterfall, streaming uncontrollably.

“Xiao Niao.” Her lips, teeth, and tongue trembled, stumbling over each other, making her words unclear.

She took off her sunglasses and mask, trying to make her voice clearer. “Qingluan, Qingluan. I’m sorry, could you just listen to me for a moment?”

She had no idea how she looked in Yu Qingluan’s eyes right then.

Probably quite ugly, so Yu Lingxue tried hard to compose her expression, wanting her smile to look a little better.

But Yu Qingluan only paused for a moment before shifting her gaze away.

Deliberate, yet casual.

The movement was so slight, as if she had merely glanced at an ant, found it uninteresting, and looked away at something else.

“Sister Lanlan, what are we waiting for? Let’s go. It’ll get crowded soon,” she said. She didn’t want to see Yu Lingxue.

She didn’t want to hear Yu Lingxue’s explanations.

She was about to get married, what was there left to say?

Wasn’t it better to let their hidden relationship remain frozen in that moment?

At least now she could still remember the good times she once had with Yu Lingxue.

Seeing her still stirred a reaction in her heartbeat.

A habitual flutter, a habitual joy.

It was just that her rationality would hold her back, preventing her from making the same mistakes again.

Let it end here.

She could wish Yu Lingxue happiness in her marriage.

All she needed was to move on.

It was painful, but necessary.

She believed she could do it.

Zeng Lan listened to Yu Qingluan’s words, a trace of smugness flashing in her eyes.

That hint of smugness stung Yu Lingxue’s eyes, giving her the momentary illusion of blindness.

In an instant, Zeng Lan was gone too, taking the newly purchased tickets and heading off to hike with her two younger sisters to vent her emotions.

Yu Qingluan was surrounded by friends and left.

Yu Lingxue’s vision returned, but Yu Qingluan was no longer in sight.

The pain in her heart and organs exploded at that moment. Yu Lingxue almost instantly tasted the metallic tang of blood as it surged up, making her nauseous.

Blood splattered on the ground, and the crowd scattered as if they had seen a monster. Yu Lingxue covered her mouth with a mask, waves of nausea washing over her.

With each surge of sickness, another memory of Yu Qingluan surfaced in her mind.

They had once been so intimate, so close.

Yu Qingluan had shown her so many possibilities, made her realize that life still held many novel experiences worth trying.

Yu Lingxue remembered the day they had spent preparing for the Spring Festival by the willow lined riverbank.

It was the closest she had ever been to happiness in her life.

Yu Qingluan had once said she loved winter.

So why didn’t she love her anymore?

Why didn’t she even want to hear a single word from her?

Yu Lingxue knelt on the ground, enduring the physical reactions.

She hated her body. It was only in Yu Qingluan’s hands that she had ever felt a semblance of love.

It was as if Yu Qingluan was the only one in the world who would look at her with such eyes as if gazing upon a renowned sculpture, as if she were some flawless goddess.

Only Yu Qingluan could love someone as broken as her.

When had she lost Yu Qingluan?

She had envisioned it all so perfectly, so ideally.

The plan she had set required just one year.

But Yu Qingluan hadn’t waited for her.

Medical staff lifted Yu Lingxue onto a stretcher, her mask falling to the ground. She stared blankly, unable to imagine what Yu Qingluan was doing or what she looked like now.

How she wished she could conjure a detailed image for solace, but reality offered only the glaring white of the hospital and the pungent smell of disinfectant.

Yan Lanshen flipped through a book in the ambulance, watching as Yu Lingxue was carried in but saying nothing.

They remained silent the entire way until she was admitted to the hospital and put on an IV drip in the ward.

“Going to find your ex-girlfriend wasn’t that just asking for trouble?” Yan Lanshen finally spoke, reaching out to tuck the blanket around Yu Lingxue.

Yu Lingxue raised her hand and pushed hers away. “When did you find out? Why were you there? Do you know her whereabouts better than I do?”

Yan Lanshen remained silent, her face as calm and cold as a winter day in Hong Kong.

“You shouldn’t have run off like that,” she said after a long pause, admitting defeat.

“Why not? Can’t I go where I want? Am I imprisoned in your home or something?” Yu Lingxue’s face was pale, devoid of color and vitality, as she confronted her.

Yan Lanshen’s hand, resting at her side, clenched for a moment before relaxing.

“Do as you please. But running off to find your ex-girlfriend right after getting engaged and vomiting blood on the spot do I need to teach you how the media will spin that? If you don’t want her to be gossiped about, stay away from her.”

“You’re just threatening me.” Yu Lingxue coughed violently and lay back down, unable to utter another word.

Yan Lanshen turned and left without provoking her further.

Yu Lingxue sat on the bed, her heart still convulsing with pain that made her miserable.

Both emotionally and physically, she was in agony.

Yet she had no way to find relief.

So she took out her phone, hesitantly opening the chat interface with Yu Qingluan.

The date at the top was from early December. It turned out they really hadn’t spoken in a very, very long time.

Yu Lingxue scrolled up but couldn’t find anything noteworthy.

Yu Qingluan rarely chatted with her online.

It didn’t matter.

Yu Qingluan probably wouldn’t even remember she hadn’t deleted her as a friend, right?

As if clutching at a lifeline, Yu Lingxue typed out a line of text.

–

Yu Qingluan and her friends spent the entire morning finally reaching the summit.

“If only we had come at dawn, we could have seen the sunrise,” Yu Qingluan leaned against the railing, gazing into the distance where she could see the towering buildings of the port city and the bustling bay.

“Who told you to sleep in and laze around in bed?” Xiang Yan teased her from the side.

“Next time, just let me know earlier. I’ll go to bed sooner at night,” Yu Qingluan tried her best to maintain a calm state of mind. She kept talking, chatting with friends, even talking to herself.

She couldn’t let her mind go blank.

As long as she didn’t think about Yu Lingxue, she was fine.

The first week after leaving someone is the most painful.

Once you get through it, it’ll be okay.

“Wait a moment, I need to take a call.” Xiang Yan had just sent a photo to her ambiguous interest, and the call came right after.

Xiang Yan stepped aside. Yu Qingluan knew she should feel a pang of discomfort, but she numbed her emotions, and her heart remained as still as stagnant water for now.

“Isn’t it nice to get out and about more?” Zeng Lan had graduated from college a few years earlier and had been traveling all over since then. Yu Qingluan didn’t really know what she had been up to all this time; they only met during the Spring Festival these past few years.

“It is nice. I used to be cooped up in Chu City all the time and never got to see these kinds of views. I’ve had so many inspirations this time. When I have the energy, I’ll bring them all to life.” At least for now, Yu Qingluan couldn’t bring herself to pick up a needle and thread. Every time she tried, she’d prick her fingers without even feeling the pain, and the resulting embroidery was so ugly that even Xiang Yan couldn’t find a way to compliment it.

“For clothes?”

“Yes. I showed you the design sketches yesterday. Are they passable?” There was another, bigger reason why Yu Qingluan didn’t want to work on them.

Those design sketches were all based on Yu Lingxue’s measurements.

The colors of the patterns, the distribution of the textures they were all tailored to Yu Lingxue.

Now Yu Qingluan didn’t want to touch anything related to Yu Lingxue for the time being.

But she wouldn’t let the hard-earned designs go to waste.

Her thoughts were simple.

After some time had passed, once the most painful days were over, she could pick up those design sketches again.

After all, she had preserved her dignity.

In the future, when she looked back, her memories with Yu Lingxue would mostly be sweet, not tainted by Yu Lingxue’s final, abrupt departure.

“They’re great. I almost want to convince you to transfer to my mentor’s fashion design program,” Zeng Lan joked.

That school was abroad. Transferring wouldn’t be too difficult, but Yu Meiying’s health wasn’t great, and Yu Qingluan’s family didn’t have the money. It was unlikely she would go abroad to study.

“It’s not entirely out of the question,” Yu Qingluan unexpectedly considered it.

“But I’d have to go back and discuss it with Mom.”

“Either way. Design requires talent, inspiration, and skill none can be lacking. Our brand certainly can’t start with haute couture; we can begin by selling some embroidered clothing to build capital.”

Yu Qingluan listened and nodded, about to say something more when her phone suddenly vibrated.