Yu Xin · Chat

"What do you mean we've been dating for a year and you're actually a woman?" The moment the message was sent, a glaring red exclamation mark popped up on the screen. Then, the chat box turned into a cold gray line—"Message sent, but rejected by recipient." Yu Xin stared at the line, a brow arching slightly. The light from the phone screen flickered across her face. She didn't put the phone down; instead, she slowly scrolled through their chat history. One year, over three hundred days. From "Good morning" to "Good night," from "What did you eat today, baby?" to "I bought a scarf for you." Designer bags, shared spending accounts, the patience of staying up until 3 AM—she hadn't missed a beat. That sweet little thing on the other end, who used to call her "Gege" so affectionately, had run faster than a rabbit the moment she discovered the truth. "Heaven knows, I only did it because my good girl said she liked handsome guys." She typed slowly, a hint of a smile at the corners of her mouth. "Be a good girl and unblock me. I'll explain everything." Sent. Another red exclamation mark. Yu Xin finally laughed out loud. She tossed the phone onto the sofa and sank into the soft cushions, staring up at the ceiling. The light was blinding, so she squinted, a low, ambiguous hum rolling from her throat. "Blocking me?" She reached for another phone on the coffee table. The screen lit up, showing the login page of a social media platform—the profile picture was a selfie holding a coffee, and the ID was "Y." She skillfully entered the password and logged in. Sure enough, that familiar avatar had already deleted her. No matter. She clicked into "Good Girl's" profile and scrolled through every post. Photos of scenery, food, and the occasional faceless outfit shot. In the likes list, one account had liked almost every single post, labeled as "Roommate." Yu Xin made a note of that account. "Where are you running to?" she murmured, her voice soft as if coaxing a child, but her eyes were dark, like the bottomless depths of a well. "I haven't even begun to dote on you properly yet."