Chapter 4: Blind Spot

A warm yellow circle of light from the desk lamp enveloped a corner of the room where Yuan Xi sat at her desk.

The dormitory building where she lived was somewhat old, tucked away in the depths of the graduate school. It was usually quiet. Yuan Xi shared a double room, and all the furniture and appliances had been recently replaced. Her roommate rented a place off-campus and rarely visited, seeing her only a few times a year.

The only sound in the room was the soft rustle of her pen scratching against paper. Yuan Xi was writing a review article on catalytic reactions. She preferred to write by hand, and half the desk was piled high with literature. Her laptop screen displayed search results from relevant websites. Unconsciously, three hours had passed. She closed her eyes, her eyes feeling a little strained.

Her phone suddenly vibrated.

Yuan Xi initially wanted to ignore it, but her gaze swept across the screen—a notification for a special follow update from Little Blue Bird.

She only followed one person.

Yuan Xi put down her pen and picked up her phone.

@It's Q had posted a new update.

As the image loaded, Yuan Xi's breath involuntarily lightened.

The image was a scanned photograph, showing three or four Polaroids scattered across it, some overlapping, others showing only a corner. The top one was a family portrait.

A beach, waves, four people standing together against a brilliantly blue sky.

Qi Huaiyu had blurred out her family's faces with stickers, leaving only their silhouettes. But Yuan Xi recognized the photo instantly.

It was from their 51 holiday trip to the coast. Qi Huaiyu had brought a Polaroid camera given to her by a brand sponsor and casually snapped some pictures, including this group shot. At the time, Qi Zheng had remarked that their daughter rarely showed such enthusiasm, while Xu Jiazhi had smiled and said, "Xiaoyu is all tough talk but a soft heart."

Later, that photo, along with others featuring Yuan Xi, had been thrown into the trash by Qi Huaiyu.

The caption read only four words: "Watch the sea with me."

The comments section had exploded.

"What a happy family! The mom must be gorgeous too!"

"OMG, the first time Sister Q has ever posted something so sentimental! cries "

"Baby, I want to watch the sea with you too!"

"More selfies, please!"

Yuan Xi stared at the post for a long time.

She understood this was Qi Huaiyu's way of apologizing, or perhaps showing weakness. Retrieving the photos she had once discarded, taking new pictures of them, and posting them on social media for hundreds of thousands of people to see—this was Qi Huaiyu's method: indirect, awkward, yet undeniably direct.

But what if Yuan Xi hadn't gone to Qi Huaiyu's apartment that day? What if she hadn't helped Qi Huaiyu clean up the trash?

Those photos, like the others featuring Yuan Xi, would probably have been thrown away completely.

Ten years had passed, and they had only taken a few photos together. Yuan Xi remembered each one clearly—the year, the occasion, who stood beside whom. But to Qi Huaiyu, those photos were probably just "annoying, useless things," nothing more.

The desk lamp's light was somewhat dazzling, and under its glow, Yuan Xi's delicate face was tinged with pain.

Why couldn't Qi Huaiyu just give her a clean break?

Complete hatred would have been easier to bear than this endless back and forth.

Finally, Yuan Xi double-tapped the screen to like the post, then switched to WeChat.

Her chat history with Qi Huaiyu was still at the missed voice call from last time. Yuan Xi's finger hovered over the input box for a few seconds before she typed a single line:

"Sis, could you send me a copy of that beach photo?"

After sending the message, Yuan Xi set her phone down on the desk and picked up her pen to continue working on her report. Just as she started writing, her phone lit up.

Qi Huaiyu replied faster than ever before,

"I was just clearing out my storage. I don't have any extras."

A faint bitterness curled at the corners of Yuan Xi's mouth as she read the words.

Just as I expected.

Sharing a photo would require some necessary interaction and connection, Yuan Xi thought. Qi Huaiyu probably finds that troublesome.

She didn't reply. She flipped her phone face down on the desk and resumed her work.

Outside, the sky darkened, and the desk lamp's yellow light grew more intense.

Over the past decade, their contact had been infrequent, only overlapping occasionally when they both contacted their parents. They were both familiar and strangers.

After the photo incident, everything returned to how it had been before.

By mid-September, the weather had turned abruptly cold. Just two days earlier, it had been a mild spring day with temperatures in the twenties, but overnight the temperature had plummeted to just over ten degrees Celsius. Yuan Xi had left for class that morning wearing only a thin cardigan, and by the time her afternoon class ended, her hands and feet were icy cold.

As she stepped out of the laboratory building, her phone rang.

"Xi Xi, your sister is sick," Xu Jiazhi said, her voice tinged with anxiety. "She's had a fever for two days. I made her soup today and visited her, but she's still not feeling well."

Yuan Xi stopped in her tracks. "Is it serious?"

"It's a low-grade fever, but it keeps coming and going. I told her to go to the hospital, but she refused, saying she'd power through it herself." Xu Jiazhi sighed. "That girl has been stubborn since she was little. Xi Xi, you're closer to her place than I am. If you have time these days, could you check on her for me?"

Yuan Xi fell silent for a moment. Qi Huaiyu probably didn't want to see her right now.

But she had always obeyed Xu Jiazhi. Besides... she had long since developed a habit of worrying about Qi Huaiyu.

"Okay, I'll go over today."

After hanging up, Yuan Xi turned and walked toward the school gate.

The supermarket was not far from the school. She went in and bought some light ingredients—eggs, spinach, fine noodles, and ham sausage. By the time she came out, it was completely dark. The streetlights had come on, casting the ground in a pale, ghostly light.

The subway was not crowded. Yuan Xi sat in a corner, clutching her shopping bag, her gaze fixed on the tunnel walls rushing past the window.

Qi Huaiyu had been living in the current apartment for two years. It was a high-end residential building with expensive rent and strict security—card access was required for entry and exit, and delivery drivers could only leave packages at the ground-floor lockers.

Over these two years, at Xu Jiazhi's behest, Yuan Xi had visited many times.

Each time Qi Huaiyu saw her, she would either coldly ask, "Did Mom send you to spy on me again?" or sarcastically remark, "What will you report back this time?" Her attitude toward Yuan Xi had always been barbed, cutting, and venomous.

In the early years, Yuan Xi had been hurt by these jabs. But over time, she grew accustomed to it. She even developed a reckless, "what the hell" attitude, learning to deftly parry Qi Huaiyu's verbal attacks with her own sharp wit.

After exiting the subway station, Yuan Xi hurried toward the apartment complex. The security guard recognized her and opened the gate in advance. She walked in with practiced ease and took the elevator to the upper floor.

Qi Huaiyu's family password remained the same: 99337. Despite years of strained sisterhood, Yuan Xi had figured it out through sheer observation. During their awkward middle school phase, when everyone else was posting mushy love quotes, Qi Huaiyu's signature had been a defiant "I'm going to be a rich woman!"

Yuan Xi entered the numbers into the keypad lock. A soft click echoed as the door unlocked, and she pushed it open.

The living room was somewhat messy. Several empty medicine boxes lay scattered across the coffee table, and a pile of discarded clothes lay casually on the sofa. Unopened packages were stacked by the entrance.

Yuan Xi put the groceries away in the refrigerator and tidied up the living room briefly. She sorted the clothes into the washing machine, leaving the packages untouched. She always respected Qi Huaiyu's boundaries and never opened her mail.

After finishing, she approached the bedroom door and knocked softly.

No response.

She waited a moment, then knocked twice more. Still silence. Yuan Xi gently pushed the door open.

Heavy blackout curtains blocked out the light, leaving only a small bedside lamp glowing. Its dim, amber glow barely illuminated the figure on the bed. The air was thick with perfume—an unknown blend, its sickly sweet floral notes undercut by a woody base, like wilted roses.

Qi Huaiyu lay curled up on the bed, her cool brown hair spilling across the pillow in tangled arcs.

Her cheeks were flushed with a feverish red, but her lips were pale and her breathing was unsteady. A slight frown creased her brow, making her bare face appear particularly vulnerable. Yet, her beauty remained breathtaking, even more direct and striking than when she was meticulously made up.

Seeing Qi Huaiyu's condition, Yuan Xi turned to the bathroom to fetch a clean towel, soaked it in ice water, and wrung it out until it was damp. This physical cooling method would offer some comfort during her low-grade fever.

Returning to the bedside, Yuan Xi leaned down and gently placed the cool towel against Qi Huaiyu's feverish cheek.

Qi Huaiyu seemed to find the sensation soothing, unconsciously nuzzling against the cool surface and pressing closer.

Yuan Xi's wrist trembled slightly, but she held her position without moving.

Time crawled by in the dim room. Yuan Xi changed the towel several times until Qi Huaiyu's frown gradually relaxed and her breathing steadied.

Three or four hours later, Qi Huaiyu's eyes fluttered open groggily.

Her pupils reflected Yuan Xi's face.

Qi Huaiyu froze.

Though the light was dim, it was enough for her to clearly see Yuan Xi's features—her softly contoured face, her gently arched eyebrows, her narrow, almond-shaped eyes with slightly downturned corners, and her full lips that looked incredibly soft. Apart from her straight nose, her features lacked any sharp edges, appearing vulnerable and easily intimidated. Yet, this softness created a peculiar tension.

In a few seconds, Qi Huaiyu snapped out of her daze. How long had Yuan Xi been here? She vaguely remembered Xu Jiazhi visiting that morning with a pot of soup.

Seeing that Qi Huaiyu was awake, Yuan Xi asked softly, "How are you feeling?"

Qi Huaiyu remained silent, her eyelids still drooping, still feeling unwell. Yet her mind was clear enough to realize that Xu Jiazhi had sent Yuan Xi.

Yuan Xi picked up a thermometer from the nightstand and handed it to her. "Take your temperature."

Qi Huaiyu took it and clamped it under her arm.

The room fell silent, the only sound the faint hum of the nightlight.

After a few minutes, Qi Huaiyu's voice came, muffled and low, "I'm hungry."

Yuan Xi understood immediately. "What do you want to eat?"

"Whatever you have," Qi Huaiyu said.

Yuan Xi smiled helplessly and rose to go to the kitchen.

She cooked a bowl of simple, home-style scallion-ginger-garlic noodles.

She sautéed chopped scallions, ginger, and garlic in hot oil until fragrant, added water to a boil, and dropped in thin noodles. When they were about eighty percent cooked, she cracked an egg into the pot and sprinkled in diced ham and washed spinach leaves. A drizzle of sesame oil before serving filled the air with a savory aroma.

The noodles were soft and smooth, the broth light and mild—perfect for someone who was sick.

After washing up, Qi Huaiyu felt a bit refreshed. She was wearing her usual nightgown, a satin slip dress that felt a little too revealing. Before leaving the bedroom, she paused and decided to throw on a shirt.

She sat at the dining table, slowly eating her noodles.

Her professional habits had trained Qi Huaiyu to chew slowly and deliberately, never wolfing down her food even when starving. The mild flavor of the noodles Yuan Xi had made was perfect for her current appetite. After finishing the bowl, a thin layer of sweat broke out on her back, and she felt much more comfortable.

After the meal, Yuan Xi cleaned the kitchen while Qi Huaiyu curled up on the sofa scrolling through her phone. Having slept all day, her work messages had piled up to over 99+.

Yuan Xi walked into the living room and reminded her, "Time for your medicine." Qi Huaiyu's fingers flew across the screen as she typed a quick "Mm-hmm," sounding dismissive. Yuan Xi sighed and bent down to search the cabinet for the medicine. She remembered that the last time she visited, Qi Huaiyu had stored her regular medications in the bottom drawer of the TV cabinet.

She pulled open the drawer and her fingers brushed against something.

Not a medicine box.

The feel of thick cardstock, its edges slightly curled.

Yuan Xi lowered her head and saw what was tucked in the corner of the drawer.

The Polaroids.

The same set of photos Qi Huaiyu had posted on Little Blue Bird, now stuffed in the very bottom corner of the drawer alongside several boxes of expired cold medicine.

Yuan Xi's fingers turned cold.

She paused for a few seconds.

Qi Huaiyu's voice came from behind her: "What medicine do you need?" Her words stopped abruptly. Looking over Yuan Xi's shoulder, she saw that she had opened the bottom drawer.

Yuan Xi stood up and turned to face Qi Huaiyu, her expression calm.

"There's no point in keeping the photos here," she said softly. "Could you give me one?"

Qi Huaiyu's expression stiffened for a moment.

"No," she refused instinctively, the word almost escaping her lips.

Yuan Xi fell silent for a few seconds.

"Why?" Her voice trembled slightly, as if she were deliberately suppressing her emotions. "If you hate these photos so much, why keep them?"

A flicker of panic crossed Qi Huaiyu's eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a stubborn, dry defiance.

"I took these photos," she said. "I'll keep them if I want to."

Yuan Xi felt a tightness in her chest, as if something were stabbing her, both deeply and shallowly.

She didn't understand.

She truly didn't understand.

Qi Huaiyu hated everything related to her, had even thrown the photos in the trash, yet she had retrieved them, hiding them in the deepest drawer instead of giving her even one.

What did this mean?

But facing Qi Huaiyu's refusal to explain, Yuan Xi had always felt helpless. She took a deep breath.

"Remember to take your medicine," she said, her voice returning to its usual calm. "I'm leaving now."

She turned and walked toward the entrance.

Suddenly, a rustling sound came from behind her, and a hand grabbed her wrist.

"Where are you going?" Qi Huaiyu's fingers were cold, weakened by her illness, but her grip was firm.

Yuan Xi didn't turn around. "I'm going back to school. I have class tomorrow morning."

"Don't go," Qi Huaiyu's voice held a hint of petulance. "Mom sent me to take care of you."

"You're already fever-free."

"So you're leaving?" Qi Huaiyu tightened her grip, as if trying to anchor Yuan Xi. "What if my fever comes back tonight? What if it reaches forty degrees and I fall into a coma...?"

"Don't say that." Yuan Xi gently interrupted her, turning around with an expression that seemed like a tender sigh.

Qi Huaiyu stood behind her, wearing a slightly loose shirt that made her look even more slender. Her face was pale from the fever, and strands of hair fell to her sharp chin, but her eyes seemed to flicker with an unquenchable flame. It was as if she wasn't holding Yuan Xi, but a rope ascending toward the heavens.

Yuan Xi felt utterly helpless against Qi Huaiyu.

It had always been this way.