novelraw Chapter 821: Liu Qingning
Chapter 821: Liu Qingning
The warm golden-orange light gradually took on a heavy dark red as the sun tilted westward.
Outside the window, the surface of Shencheng Bay glittered, waves scattering shards of gold.
Inside the room, the air was quiet and heavy.
Only Liu Qingning’s suppressed sobs fell into the silence in ragged intervals.
She was not crying loudly; the collapse was internal, folding inward.
She bit her lower lip hard, refusing to let go even when the tip of her tongue tasted the clear metallic tang of blood.
Tears hit one by one, falling on her blouse and the backs of her hands, blotting out dark wet marks.
Su Yu sat silently across from her.
She did not hand over tissues, nor did she offer comforting words.
She only turned her face slightly, letting the light fall toward the distant sea.Those usually dazzling amber eyes had all their sharpness drawn in, leaving only softness and silence.
As the actress Tang Song personally cultivated, Su Yu possessed an extraordinary capacity for empathy and perception.
Years of observing, guessing, and attempting to fit into his complicated world allowed her to almost instinctively understand the feelings and reactions of every important woman around Tang Song,
especially Liu Qingning.
So, after hearing Zhang Yan’s story from Tang Song, she had already guessed this cruel scene.
She also knew how devastating the mere fact of “Zhang Yan’s existence” would be to someone like Liu Qingning, whose emotional narrative was built on being the singular “white moonlight.”
She understood—better than anyone—that the fact alone would be shattering.
But she had to do this.
Liu Qingning’s existence held an unspeakable particularity.
She was the only and most solid emotional anchor for the “human Tang Song.”
No one truly knew what Tang Song had gone through, or why he had stepped into the dimension of “miracle.”
Everyone kept silent about it and dared not probe.
Even though Su Yu had only glimpsed a corner, she could be sure—perhaps even certain—that people like Jin Meixiao held that mystery in reverent restraint.
Since 2016, the vast empire built around Tang Song had accommodated all of them.
To Su Yu, and to Jin Meixiao and others, Tang Song’s core appeared unstable, full of change, fractured.
Amid that violent uncertainty, the only constant coordinate was his tenderness toward Liu Qingning, his white moonlight.
Zhao Yaqian, Wen Ruan, Tian Jing, Lin Muxue... they were all later arrivals.
More importantly, the moment Tang Song truly began to transform and step into the “miracle” was precisely the moment when, years ago, his path diverged from Liu Qingning’s after the college entrance exams.
People like Wu Kezhi, Luo Bin, and Anne Kate might admire the coldly calculating Tang Song who always led them to victory,
because he was powerful.
But Su Yu and Jin Meixiao absolutely did not want him to become a “god.”
A god does not love; a god only looks down on mortals.
They needed him to retain that part of being human.
They needed him to soften, to feel, to have vulnerabilities and reluctances.
They needed some tender corner in his soul that could still be moved by emotion.
To them, Liu Qingning was the key anchor that kept his humanity tied down.
They could not afford to gamble, nor would they risk it.
But asking a proud, rational woman like Liu Qingning—who held love as a pure, supreme expectation—to naturally accept Tang Song’s current complex romantic world,
to share a lover with other women while remaining independent and unbroken...
This was not something simple PUA or brainwashing could accomplish.
It required a transformation from the inside out, reconciliation with herself, with her past, and with that perfect fairy-tale love.
It was merciless.
In a sense, Su Yu admitted that they were indeed “stealing” Tang Song from Liu Qingning.
She had fallen into deep conflict and hesitation because of this, and so had never truly launched an assault on Liu Qingning.
But Zhang Yan’s sudden appearance made Su Yu keenly perceive the key to breaking the stalemate.
Because Zhang Yan proved that:
Even in that parallel world without miracles, Liu Qingning and Tang Song’s ending would not necessarily be a happy reunion; it was more likely to fade into nothingness, a regretful miss.
If so, then the outcome they had now—crowded yet filled with light and compensation—
could very well be Tang Song’s redemptive “defiance of fate” for that childhood love.
Although she disliked Jin Meixiao, Su Yu had to admit that this she-devil truly loved Tang Song.
With Jin Meixiao’s presence, everything steadied.
If even someone like Jin Meixiao could accept this arrangement, then the rest of them would have a psychological expectation and consoling logic.
Now the wound was torn open.
What followed would be the forging of new life, Qing Ning.
.......
The crying gradually subsided, leaving only a few uncontrollable gasps.
Liu Qingning snatched the tissues on the table and roughly wiped the tear stains from her cheeks and the front of her blouse.
Her once-bright eyes were swollen and raw.
Tears had made her long lashes clump together.
Crossing tear tracks on her cheeks made her look like a broken porcelain doll.
She stared blankly at the cup of tea gone cold in front of her.
After a long time,
the faint sound of water shifting came.
Su Yu stood and picked up the teapot, pouring a fresh cup of hot tea and pushing it toward her.
“Drink something warm.”
Liu Qingning took it mechanically, cupping it in her hands.
Feeling the warmth, she lowered her head and sipped with dry lips.
“Zhang Yan...”
The name rolled out of her throat again, carrying an indescribable bitterness.
Su Yu did not look at her immediately.
Her gaze fell on the steam rising in the cup, her tone calm, as if she were slowly sorting out a tangled mess of emotions for her.
“I’ve met her, and I looked into her past on purpose.”
She paused, offering no judgment, only facts.
“She’s a very ordinary person in every respect. Her looks are okay, but her kind of attractiveness gets lost in a crowd; it’s not striking, not eye-catching.”
“She’s not very smart, at least not on the standard academic track. In middle school, no matter how hard she studied, her grades only stayed in the middle of the class.”
“After failing the college entrance exam, she repeated a year and eventually went to Yancheng Agricultural University, majoring in Chinese Language and Literature.”
“In college she also worked hard and once tried to get into graduate school in the Imperial Capital. I think she wanted to prove something, but she failed again.”
“After graduating, the jobs she found were very ordinary. She worked as a Chinese teacher at an educational institute and was often exploited. Even with perfect attendance bonuses, she only made eight thousand yuan a month.”
“Later when the tutoring industry collapsed overnight, she lost her job and hit wall after wall when trying to switch careers...”
“Her father went to the Imperial Capital at some point—who knows what they discussed—and she eventually left the Imperial Capital, moved to Yangcheng, and started over.”
“Oh, right.”
Su Yu seemed to recall something and added with a hint of pity:
“Her upbringing was hard. Her parents divorced. Her mother formed a new family in Yangcheng when she was very young and had another child. Her father did not love her; she grew up staying with her aunt and was probably bullied a lot. She became extremely insecure and introverted.”
“She didn’t dare speak loudly or fight for things; she habitually felt unworthy of good things.”
“I think for a girl who lived in gutters and lacked love from a young age, that sunny, outgoing middle school desk-mate Tang Song was probably the only hero in her dim life, her best, closest friend.”
“Unfortunately, by high school, he had you—the radiant new friend.”
“And that old friend named Zhang Yan was like those messages tucked away in a graduation directory, full of unsaid feelings and slowly neglected until they drifted apart.”
“I think even in that parallel world, she would still have collected the Dragon Balls and gone to see Tang Song.”
....
Liu Qingning listened quietly, her lashes lowered.
She seemed to sink into a long stillness,
as if tracing back, as if reconstructing herself inch by inch.
Silence stretched for a long time.
Long enough for the dusk outside the window to thicken and stain the sea a deep indigo.
She finally lifted her head.
Her gaze was no longer vacant, but showed an unusual clarity and calm.
Su Yu watched quietly, not interrupting, her look earnest and gentle.
She could feel Liu Qingning tearing herself open.
This was the moment she had been waiting for.
Liu Qingning pressed her dry lips together; her voice was slightly hoarse.
“We met very early. In the summer of 2004, my father was transferred for work, and our whole family moved to a very ordinary small town under Jing County.”
“That’s where many stories began.”
“We didn’t know the place, my parents argued every day. I was timid and had no idea where to go, so I often sat on roadside steps alone, staring at unfamiliar streets and swirling dust.”
Her gaze drifted, as if piercing through time:
“Because I was cute, a group of boys around my age gradually started jumping and playing in front of me. They held sticks pretending to fight—‘ignite the cosmos,’ ‘Solitary Nine Swords’... I thought they were childish and noisy and didn’t pay them much attention. But unknowingly, I stopped being so afraid of the new environment.”
“Tang Song was one of those boys.”
“He was thin and tanned then. Once, trying to act cool, he fell into a mud puddle and didn’t dare show his face on that road for days.”
“We were in the same elementary school but different classes. He and his group would ‘run into’ me on my way home and try all sorts of ways to get my attention. I thought they were stupid and immature, but I still secretly watched them.”
“In fifth grade, my parents moved again, this time to the Jing County seat. Everything familiar was left behind again.”
“Over time, in the unfamiliar environment, I often thought of those friends from the small town and the absurd, noisy scenes. The one I thought of most was him. Maybe because he was the biggest fool at making a scene.”
She smiled, picked up the slightly warm tea, and took another small sip.
“Until a certain ordinary weekend in eighth grade. I went to the Xinhua Bookstore to buy reference books.”
“That day the sunlight was especially good; the tree-lined avenue felt quiet. Suddenly I heard that familiar laughter and commotion. Turning my head, he was there with several boys pushing a bicycle by the roadside, joking and nudging, stealing glances at me.”
“Just like in 2004 when I first came to the small town.”
“Blue sky, red walls, cicadas buzzing, reflective glass windows, and that familiar-yet-suddenly-slightly-strange boy.”
“That scene still feels dazzling when I remember it now.”
She looked toward the darkening window.
“Later, in September 2013, we entered the same high school. Long corridors of classrooms, crowded cafeteria, the empty evening playground... his figure gradually filled every spare corner of my sight.”
“I was not gentle or considerate—sometimes arrogant. I threw little tantrums and said things that upset him, but he always indulged me.”
“He knew when I had my period and took extra care then. He knew what snacks I liked and would buy them as surprises. Every holiday, he’d buy a big bag of my favorite fruit, even if it ate into his long-hoarded living money.”
She inhaled softly.
“My affection for him really piled up, layer by layer, from one glance to the next, so dense I couldn’t even count it.”
Su Yu listened and sighed softly, complicated tone: “That’s what I’m most jealous of.”
Liu Qingning seemed not to hear, continuing to dissect herself:
“I matured earlier than my peers—practically *practical.* That came from my family.”
“Actually my parents used to be very much in love, true love. But after transferring to the small town and then moving back to the county, life pressure grew huge. They began endless fights; at the worst, they even held kitchen knives at one another.”
“For money, for life, for the house, and for me...”
“So I learned early how important money is, and that getting into a good university and finding a good job meant everything. In my view, that was the only way out.”
“My feelings for Tang Song weren’t only love but also the deepest friendship. It started in 2004 and accumulated bit by bit. He’s one of the most important people in my life.”
“So in high school, even though I knew he liked me and I liked him, I never confirmed a relationship. I pushed him hard to study, gave him highlights, forced him to strive... I planned the future so intensely, even arrogantly planned his future... because I was really afraid.”
“I was also afraid that life’s trivialities would kill our feelings.”
“But I never told him any of this.”
“Because from the beginning I was the one he’d held in his palm. So my love unconsciously turned proud and selfish.”
Liu Qingning glanced at the photo of Zhang Yan on the table; pain flashed in her eyes, but more than that was a sense of release.
“You were right earlier. If the gap between us keeps widening, if life keeps grinding us down and we keep fighting, then the shadows of my childhood will become knives aimed at me, and I would stab them into him.”
“In the end I’d realize it was me who killed the boy I treasured most.”
She closed her eyes; her voice was as fragile as a bubble on the verge of popping:
“When I learned of Zhang Yan’s existence and her story, I would definitely choose to let go and disappear from his world. A future like that—I cannot accept.”
“Losing Tang Song might mean I couldn’t go on living.”
Silence wrapped the private room.
A few seconds later.
Liu Qingning opened her eyes and slowly stood.
“Long ago, when we were seventeen, we once sat in his house reading science fiction magazines. I half-jokingly asked him, ‘If one day I die, or we drift apart and never see each other again, what would you do?’”
“He was very serious then and said he’d build a time machine to go back and save me.”
“You say ‘parallel world,’ ‘Tang Song’s miracle,’ ‘the fractured him,’ ‘the omnipotent him’—it all sounds incredible... but that’s the reality now.”
“And I’m willing to believe. This Tang Song now is the miracle born to reverse the fate of us being separated.”
“I also want to believe that at his core he’s still that boy—the one who fell out of a mud puddle but always smiled looking at me.”
She looked at Su Yu, her gaze no longer confused.
She ran through the gate of Shencheng Bay No.1, crossed the community garden, and finally saw the familiar curved glass facade of Tower 5 close ahead.
Breathless, she ran into the bright, high-ceilinged lobby.
The duty property manager recognized her and immediately stood with a smile: “Ms. Liu, you’re back—”
Liu Qingning only nodded quickly and did not slow her pace.
She swiped her card and pressed the up button.
Watching her reflection on the cabin wall, she took a deep breath to steady her quick breaths, but her heartbeat only raced faster,
hammering in her ears.
Ding—
The elevator doors slid open.
She hurried to the heavy double armored door and used her fingerprint.
Clack. The crisp sound of the electronic lock opening, and the door swung inward.
The entrance lights came on automatically, soft and warm.
Tat-tat-tat—
Urgent footsteps crossed the entry and corridor, heading straight to the living room.
The main lights were off, leaving the room somewhat dim.
Only the large floor-to-ceiling window let in the dying light, bathing the space in orange-red.
Liu Qingning’s steps halted abruptly.
Her gaze fixed on the silhouette by the window.
It was sunset.
Outside was the city’s magnificent twilight and burning sunset.
Tang Song leaned by the treadmill, holding his phone as if photographing the sunset.
He had taken off his suit jacket and wore a well-cut white shirt, sleeves casually rolled to his forearms, revealing the smooth line of his wrists.
Hearing the noise, he turned.
Against the light, his outline was edged with a soft golden fringe from the burning sky; the tips of his hair, his shoulder line, the profile of his face were all soaked in warm light.
“Qing Ning?”
Seeing the panting white moonlight, Tang Song’s expression registered surprise, then amusement as he patted his forehead: “Ah, forgot. You just installed the latest smart security system, right? Did your phone alarm? Were you startled by me?”
He looked at her, smiling, his eyes the familiar gentleness and ease she knew best.
Liu Qingning said nothing, only took a step and then another toward him.
As the distance closed and the afterglow fell across her face, Tang Song saw it clearly.
The smile on his face froze instantly; his brow drew together and his tone grew anxious: “What’s wrong? Why are your eyes so swollen? Did you cry?”
He set his phone down and strode quickly to her.
Liu Qingning still didn’t answer.
She only stared at his eyes, unblinking.
Their distance shrank rapidly until they were face to face.
“What happened?” Tang Song bent his head, his voice full of worry.
Liu Qingning sniffed.
Suddenly she rose onto her toes and reached up with both hands, gripping his face hard.
Her grip was strong; her fingertips dug slightly into the warm skin of his jaw,
as if confirming his real existence.
That reality reached from her palm straight to her heart.
“Don’t move, Little Song, let me look at you.”
Tang Song’s hand, suspended midair, stopped. He watched the white moonlight close at hand.
The sunset poured through the window, gilding both of them in gold-red.
He saw the redness in her eyes, the sheen of tears, and something he had never seen before: a consuming longing.
It was as if she were using the entirety of herself to carve him back into her soul.
Though full of confusion, he complied and did not move, letting her hold his face, her gaze gentle and intense as it met his.
They looked at each other.
Their breath intertwined.
The air was so still they could almost hear the echo of each other’s hearts.
“I’ll ask you a question. You answer me honestly.” Liu Qingning’s voice was heavy with a clogged sound from crying.
Tang Song answered softly, “Okay, ask.”
“On the day of the start of winter when we parted in the Imperial Capital, were you extremely, extremely sad then? Did you feel... that we would never be together again in this life?”
Tang Song’s breath faltered as he met the white moonlight’s eyes.
After a long time,
in the long silence,
he lowered his lids and slowly nodded.
Liu Qingning’s lashes trembled. She pressed her forehead gently against his chin.
“Little Song... I’m sorry. Thank you for pulling me back from that future where I would lose you.”