novelraw Chapter 32
Chapter 32
Chapter 32
Yan Huan shot a sideways glance at Tong Yingying, who had already sat down—an unspoken "Are you sure?" written all over his face.
Sure, it was great that the woman who usually loafed around the bar all day was finally useful for once, but given her track record as the queen of hare-brained schemes, one wrong sentence and Bai Yi's Modifier might explode on the spot.
Ding-ding!
When Yan Huan lingered, Tong Yingying pressed the service bell and stared at him.
Add a pointing finger and she'd be the spitting image of that viral husky meme: "Quit yakking and get moving!"
Fine. At least Sis Tong hadn't been drinking tonight; when sober her brain still worked. Probably.
"All right, I'll get back to work."
Yan Huan lifted an eyebrow and let it go. The bar really did need an extra pair of hands, and Tong couldn't whip up any anime-style domain expansions; he could always duck back in later.
He took one last look at Bai Yi, then turned and left.
The moment he was gone, the grief Bai Yi had barely kept at bay with hot water and kind words surged back up. She started to sniffle, but under Tong Yingying's sudden scrutiny she forced the tears down.
After Yan Huan's exit, Tong's gaze sharpened almost unconsciously.
She exhaled, flipped open a cigarette case, and revealed a neat row of slim menthols.
A flip-top lighter danced between the fingers of her left hand, sparked, and lit the cigarette she drew out.
Beneath her crimson bangs her eyes looked as if the flame had leapt from the lighter straight into her pupils.
Through the drifting smoke her expression shifted from half-dead to languidly seductive.
Still, Tong Yingying radiated the exact vibe Bai Yi didn't want to tangle with—pure South-District danger.
Tong fished inside her jacket.
Clack!
A collapsible baton hit the table.
Bai Yi's eyes went wide; she shot Tong a wary glance, only to see her still rummaging.
Clack!
A folded butterfly knife landed beside the baton.
"..."
Just as Tong seemed ready to pull out an M1917 Smith & Wesson, Bai Yi jumped up and stammered, "I-I'll leave now. I don't want to trouble you."
"What's the rush? Sit."
Bai Yi stayed on her feet, but Tong produced nothing more lethal than a small metal hip flask. She glanced toward the direction Yan Huan had vanished, unscrewed the cap, and took a careful sip.
So it was just booze.
Why the secrecy?
Bai Yi didn't know, but she sank back into the chair anyway.
A mouthful of warm liquor later, Tong's face relaxed and her tone softened.
"All dressed up at this hour—mask, sunglasses—anyone would think you're stalking someone. And if you leave now, can you even see the road?"
Bai Yi couldn't argue; her entire day had been exactly that. Fully masked, she had tailed Yan Huan all the way to South-District.
Feeling like a thief caught red-handed, she looked away.
"I'll manage."
Tong rolled her eyes.
"What I meant was, take the mask and glasses off so we can talk."
"I'd rather not."
"Ugly, so you're hiding?"
"..."
Bai Yi bit her lip and said nothing.
Tong leaned in.
Gotcha!
She snatched the sunglasses off Bai Yi's face.
Without the dark lenses, Bai Yi's eyes—already swollen from crying—were exposed.
"Wh-what are you doing?"
Startled, Bai Yi lunged to reclaim them. Tong lounged back, refusing to return them, eyebrow arched in mild surprise.
"You're actually pretty. What's there to hide?"
"I—"
"And what brings a sobbing kid to a bar at night? This isn't a kiddie playground. We card minors, you know."
Bai Yi looked away and muttered, "Yet you hire minors to work here."
"Every one of you kids has a law degree ready to drop, huh?"
Tong set the tear-stained glasses on the table and pulled over an ashtray.
"Linmen's labor laws allow twenty-eight hours a week. My hiring practices are above board—questions?"
She tapped ash, eyes on the designer shades.
"Weber frames, five-grand a pair. Doesn't look like you're from South-District. Where'd you come from? A girl that pretty wandering the streets at night is begging for trouble. Lose the mask—maybe I can help."
Bai Yi stayed silent and took the sunglasses back.
"I'll just go," she murmured, standing.
"Suit yourself. I'll call the cops the second you step out."
Tong waved lazily and reached for her phone.
"Why would you do that?"
Bai Yi spun around, incredulous. Tong stared as if she were an idiot.
"Your phone's busted, you're in a torn dress, and I bet you don't carry cash. Where exactly will you go? This is South-District. If I don't phone the police tonight, they'll show up tomorrow asking questions that kill my business."
Bai Yi glanced at her shattered screen, the cracks on full display.
She opened her mouth, but her eyes only burned hotter.
For someone with the pocket watch, Tong's worry shouldn't have mattered.
Yet right now she had nowhere to go.
Auntie Yi Nuo had been discovered; Mom would scold her for sure. After the fight Bai Yi had smashed her phone in a fit and now had no cash for anything.
Tears slipped again.
She still wanted to leave—why?
Because she didn't want to go home. She didn't want to see her mother.
She wanted to vanish to a place Mom could never find.
Silent tears traced twin paths down her cheeks; her grip on the pocket watch tightened.
Tong had been scrolling on her phone, but a sudden chill made her frown and set it aside.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw the girl on her feet, eyes brimming as if Tong's words had broken her.
???
Hey, kid—
You're crying now?
"Damn it."
Before she could swear, the register chimed. Yan Huan's voice drifted over,
"298 yuan, please. Plane or cash?"
Tong's Cantonese fire died instantly. She straightened, tapped ash into the tray, then beckoned the sniffling Bai Yi closer and spoke softly.
"From the way you're sobbing, it's eighty percent family, twenty percent school."
Bai Yi lifted her head, meeting Tong's measuring gaze.
Tong Yingying gave a small smile.
"Got it in one—family stuff?"
"Mmm."
"Big deal. I'm ancient and I still fight with mine every day. They used to look down on me, and they still do; in their eyes I'll always be a disappointment. Look at me—living the high life, eating well, drinking well, surrounded by handsome guys."
Bai Yi blinked, her expression shifting at Tong Yingying's careless words.
After a moment of silence she sat back down across from her and gently tugged off her mask.
Tong Yingying glanced over, eyebrows arching in surprise.
The girl in front of her was genuinely beautiful.
"That's because you're grown-up and independent. My situation's a little different."
Tong Yingying took a sip of liquor and rolled her eyes.
"Sure, sure. Wait till you're my age—you'll understand."
"That's not what I meant."
Bai Yi sniffed.
"I just don't know how to deal with my mom. All I need is one simple word of approval, yet to get it I have to give up so much of myself. She only ever compares me with other people. Sometimes I wonder if she wants me or just someone else."
"So you're tired of living like this, but you still want her approval?"
Bai Yi didn't answer. Tong Yingying propped her chin on her hand.
"How about your dad?"
Bai Yi shook her head.
"Mom remarried. My stepdad's always busy, hardly ever home."
"Is he good to you?"
"Actually... yes. He's different from Mom—at least he listens."
Tong Yingying's eyes suddenly lit up like twin bulbs. She raised a finger, grinning.
"Hey, I've got an idea!"
"Huh?"
Before Bai Yi could speak, someone approached. She turned—and saw Yan Huan's unreadable face.
"Sis Tong."
The sunny finger instantly froze. Tong Yingying curled her lip, retracted the finger, and spread her hands at Bai Yi.
"And now I don't."
She stubbed out her half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray for emphasis, then slyly pulled the hip flask off the table and tucked it against her chest.
Yan Huan glanced at the mask-less, sunglasses-less Bai Yi and looked startled.
"Wait... You look familiar. Are you Bai Yi from our school?"
His surprise morphed into excitement.
"Ah?"
Bai Yi froze, suddenly flustered.
"N-no, I—that..."
Yan Huan knows who I am?
She averted her gaze, fumbling for words, when Tong Yingying cut in,
"Classmate?"
"More than that—she's a star! She's acted in movies. And I'm a fan of her singing; it's beautiful. Pity she rarely shows up at school."
F-fan?
Bai Yi's face flamed crimson. She lifted her head, incredulous.
"Yan Huan—no, President Yan—you've really heard my songs?"
Tong Yingying blinked, gaze flicking between Bai Yi's flushed cheeks and Yan Huan's easy smile.
Same school, handsome guy and pretty girl, idol and fan, peers and potential sweethearts—
Sss.
Why do I suddenly feel like the sketchy older woman luring teenagers into trouble?!
"Of course."
Yan Huan smiled, opened his phone, and tapped into his music app. There, in a playlist titled "Bai Yi," sat exactly two songs—hers.
(P.S.: added this afternoon on the bus. But right now he looked like a long-time follower.)
"I started following you ages ago. When I heard you'd enrolled at Yuanyue I was thrilled, but I barely saw you all semester."
Ten-year veteran fan, reporting for duty!
So the Yan Huan Mom keeps praising... is actually a devoted listener to the songs she scorns?
"Though you haven't released anything new in a while—"
"I will! New songs are coming, very soon!!"
Bai Yi blurted before he could finish, heart thudding. She wanted to record every word on her phone. Next time Mom lectured her, she'd play this clip on repeat—
No, loop it every night beside Mom's pillow!
Reading Bai Yi's fervent stare, Yan Huan knew his guess had been right. He'd overheard the argument outside but not the mother's exact words. By piecing together Bai Yi's dislike of recent gigs, he'd deduced her true passion was singing—even if it wasn't trending.
As for why she disliked herself—he'd caught a clue in her conversation with Tong Yingying: probably tied to her mother.
"That's wonderful—"
"Hold up, you two."
The fan-meeting vibes were straight out of a rom-com, and Tong Yingying couldn't take it anymore. She rubbed her temples.
"Shouldn't we solve the bigger problem? She's a celebrity with money and Yuanyue tuition—yet she ran away to the South District?"
Bai Yi gave a sheepish nod.
Tong Yingying's eyes sparkled again.
"Easy. Call your family and have them pick you up."
"No! I can't!"
Bai Yi clutched her pocket watch. The stopped hands began to tremble.
Tick... tick... tick...
Like phantom water drops, the sound slowed. For a heartbeat the chatter in the bar dimmed too.
I don't want to hear Mom's denial again...
Not another repeat of before—
Sensing the rising urge to activate the Modifier, Yan Huan's pupils narrowed. He quickly cut off the visibly-annoyed Tong Yingying.
"No rush. Let's sit and think it through."
Tong Yingying's brilliant plan rejected once more, a vein throbbed at her temple. Her hand itched—only a stun baton could scratch it.
"She can't stay out forever. It'll be trouble, and I'm not running a shelter."
Bai Yi gripped her skirt; she knew the standoff couldn't last.
"Sis Tong! Little help back here!"
From the bar Tian Li called out, pushing Tong Yingying's irritation to new heights. She tugged at her red hair and stood reluctantly.
"Fine, fine—you two geniuses figure it out. I'm an old woman; my brainwaves can't sync with yours."
With Tong Yingying gone, Yan Huan looked optimistic.
"By the way, are you coming to the weekend game expo? Will you sing there?"
"Ah."
Bai Yi blinked, then shook her head.
"I... I probably won't sing. I'll just meet everyone there."
"Oh, I see."
"I've never sung in public before, and it's been ages since I set foot in a studio."
"That's a shame. I was hoping to hear you. The student-council accountant had two tickets, so I snagged one just for you."
Yan Huan smiled and produced the ticket Hashimoto had given him, holding it up with a soft sigh of regret.
Bai Yi's pupils shrank. She glanced at him, then quickly looked away.
Sunday's event required a dress rehearsal on Friday, tech run-through on Thursday, and today was Wednesday night.
Besides, Mom would never let her sing—she still called Bai Yi's songs amateurish.
Yet Yan Huan had fought for a ticket... to see her?
For some reason, the fierce reluctance in her chest loosened, and she almost wanted to go home and join the weekend show.
"Xiao Huan, over here!"
"Coming, one sec."
"Hurry, it's urgent!"
Lingering here would only be in the way.
Bai Yi opened her mouth, hesitated, then whispered, "If I call my mom later, could you talk to her for me?"
Yan Huan turned, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course."
"..."
"You want me to call your mom?"
"...Mm-hmm."
He handed over his phone. Bai Yi's pale fingers tapped out the number, pressed call, and passed it back.
Yan Huan lifted it to his ear; after a few rings, a woman answered.
"Hello, Auntie? This is Yan Huan, Bai Yi's classmate. I'm calling because—"
While he spoke with perfect courtesy, Bai Yi bowed her head, afraid of hearing reproach.
Then her stomach betrayed her with a loud gurgle.
Grrrowwl~
Her face flamed; she clapped both hands over her belly.
She'd only eaten breakfast at her best friend's place and had been running around all day—of course she was starving.
She sneaked a glance at Yan Huan; he was still on the phone and seemed not to notice. She exhaled in relief.
"All right, I'll put her on."
The call neared its end. Yan Huan handed the phone back.
Bai Yi shrank from it, but after a moment took the receiver.
"Hello?"
"Stay where you are. I'll be there shortly. Get ready tomorrow; you have the weekend event."
No scolding, no warmth—just a brisk, cold notification from Zuo Jiangqin.
The words stabbed. Bai Yi swallowed.
"Okay."
Regret flooded her the instant she hung up.
Beep-beep-beep.
The dial tone echoed like a judge's gavel. She set the phone down, drained.
"Thanks," she murmured.
"No problem. Sit tight—I've still got a couple things to do."
"Mm."
She nodded. Only when he walked away did her thoughts scatter again.
What if she went home and they fought?
Or worse—what if Mom didn't even bother to argue? She'd probably given up on her long ago.
What if Bai Yi really wasn't meant to sing?
Maybe her lifelong dream was just wishful thinking; maybe she had no talent and no one would ever love her songs.
I hate this.
Other people's opinions...
If only I didn't exist.
But don't I already feel invisible?
Then why erase myself?
Why not erase everyone else instead?
Tick-tick-tick.
The thought had barely formed when the pocket watch in her hand lurched forward.
The motionless hour hand shivered, as if some dormant power were waking.
Around her, every clock on the bar's walls slowed, dragged down by the force leaking from her body.
Tick-tick-tick... tick-tick... tick—
Clack.
A plate appeared in front of her.
Bai Yi jolted back to the present; the chill vanished.
A caramel pudding sat before her.
Pudding?
She looked up—Yan Huan stood beside her, smiling.
"I—I can't pay," she stammered, holding up her broken phone. "My mom will settle it when she arrives."
"No charge. You were hungry—eat."
"Huh?"
He'd heard her stomach after all.
Heat rushed to Bai Yi's cheeks; she didn't know where to look.
"Xiao Huan! Come ring up the order!" Tong Yingying called.
Bai Yi opened her mouth, but Yan Huan pressed a finger to his lips.
"Shh. I sneaked this for you. If Sis Tong finds out, I'm dead."
"I—I couldn't possibly—"
He grinned. "I'm your fan. Letting your idol sample dessert is the least I can do."
F-fan?!
Bai Yi's breath caught. She managed a soft, "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
He turned to leave, then paused.
"Oh, right—Bai Yi."
"Yes?"
He looked straight at her, voice earnest.
"Your songs are truly beautiful. I'm looking forward to the new upload. And... I'll be in the audience this weekend—cheering you on."
"..."
"Xiao Huan!"
"Coming!"
Bai Yi simply watched Yan Huan—today's Yan Huan—call back an answer and hurry off to whatever task waited for him next.
Yet his words refused to leave the room. They lingered, curling like steam around the untouched caramel pudding, turning the air faintly of vanilla.
She realized she was hungry. Parting her lips, she slid the spoon beneath the trembling surface and lifted a single mouthful.
The sweetness unfurled, perfect and cloying, exactly like what she had just heard.
Everything he'd said was hidden right here.
And this was the first time anyone had ever told her they liked her songs.
Her mother's dismissals still rang in her ears—day after day of comparisons that had turned into resentment against the boy who outshone her at everything.
She had never imagined the acknowledgment she'd waited so long for would come from the very person she was tired of hating.
A soft sob... another.
After only one bite she lowered her head and wept without a sound.
In her palm the pocket watch seemed to melt along with the pudding; its hands slowed, reluctant, beat by beat.
Tick... tick...
Then, at last, it fell completely still.