I'm sorry, but your fiancé loves me.

Yun Muqian glanced at her phone and found that Qin Qihan had sent her many messages.

Starting last night, one message after another, the intervals getting shorter and shorter, the tone growing increasingly somber—

Where are you?

She's not answering her phone.

【Yun Muqian.】

Who are you with?

The last message was sent in the early morning and contained only two words:

Reply to me.

She drank too much last night, and her phone was on silent at some point. Later, she fell asleep as soon as she got to Chi Qiusheng's house and didn't even think to check her phone.

Seeing all this now, she realized that Qin Qihan was probably angry.

Suddenly, he called, and she went to the balcony to answer it.

"Feed?" she asked first. "My phone died last night, and I just saw the message..."

"Where are you?" His voice came through the receiver.

"I'm outside, about to go back."

"Where is it outside?"

She paused for a moment, then did not answer immediately.

It's not that she can't lie, it's just that she needs to think through every detail beforehand when she lies to him, otherwise he can easily find the loopholes.

But at this moment, she still had a dull hangover in her head and couldn't find a perfect explanation.

In the two seconds she paused, his voice rang out again, lower than before:

"Yun Muqian, I'm asking where you are."

"At a friend's house," she said. "I really drank too much last night, so I stayed at a friend's house for the night."

"Which friend?"

"You don't know him." She smiled. "I'll be right back."

There was a few seconds of silence on the other end of the phone. She could imagine his expression at that moment. He said:

"Your phone was dead, why didn't you borrow someone else's charger?"

"It was already too late, I just wanted to go to sleep." She softened her voice. "Don't be angry, I'll go back right away."

He was silent for a moment, then said, "Send me your address, I'll come pick you up."

"No need, no need, I can just call a car myself. It's too much trouble for you to come over—"

"address."

His tone left no room for negotiation.

Yun Muqian's heart skipped a beat. She quickly glanced at the name of the building behind her and then gave him the address—she gave him the street name and the approximate location, but not the specific building number or unit number.

"I'll wait for you around here," she said. "Call me when you get there."

After hanging up the phone, Chi Qiusheng brought breakfast to the table. She didn't refuse and sat down to eat a few bites. It was far from Qin Qihan's address, and it would take him at least an hour to drive here.

Chi Qiusheng was very considerate; he peeled the eggs for her and asked if the milk was too hot.

After breakfast, he went to wash the dishes, but she was reluctant to leave and unconsciously walked to the bookshelf in the living room.

Many foreign classics, philosophies of life...

Suddenly, she saw a booklet with a dark blue cover; it was her high school graduation yearbook.

Yun Muqian hesitated for a moment, then pulled out the graduation yearbook and flipped through a few pages. The title page featured the school emblem and motto, followed by the principal's address, and then group photos of each class.

She flipped through the photos slowly, her gaze lingering on each one for a moment, as if carefully examining the young faces.

She also found her old class, where she used to stand in the corner, very inconspicuous.

As she finished flipping through the entire scrapbook, closed the cover, and put it back on the shelf, a corner of the booklet suddenly touched a notebook in the next compartment.

The notebook was covered with a soft cover, and after being pulled, it slipped out and fell to the ground with a thud.

"Sorry, I knocked your things over. Let me pick them up." Yun Muqian squatted down.

She reached for the notebook, but as her fingertips touched it, something slid out—a small photograph—and landed on the wooden floor.

The photo was face down, the whitish side facing up, so you couldn't see anything. She reached out to pick it up, and flipped it over when her fingertips touched the edge of the photo.

Then she froze.

The photo shows a girl in a blue and white school uniform with short hair and thick-rimmed glasses, standing under a sycamore tree by the school playground, holding a book in her hand.

Her expression was somewhat restrained, as if she didn't know how to face the camera; her lips were pursed and her eyes were somewhat evasive.

That's her.

This is what she looked like in high school.

She was the one with thick-rimmed glasses, short hair, and who was always the most inconspicuous person in a crowd.

She squatted there, clutching the photograph in her hand, and suddenly felt the whole room fall silent. She could hear her own heartbeat, each thud piercing her eardrums.