◎Don’t Ignore Me◎
Li Xia still played a few rounds of Werewolf Kill with her colleagues. The experience wasn’t great. In the stuffy room, some unfamiliar male players always wanted to light up a cigarette. As soon as one pulled out his pack, Li Xia would remind him there was a pregnant woman present. He’d purse his lips and reluctantly toss it back onto the table, making it seem like it was her fault.
Chu Xiaowen was in the late stages of her pregnancy and couldn’t sit for long. She exchanged a glance with Li Xia, and the two of them slipped out without a word. No sooner had they stepped through the door than they heard the eager click of a lighter and the smell of smoke from inside.
In the elevator, Chu Xiaowen grumbled, “I got knifed three times tonight. That guy was deliberately sabotaging me so I couldn’t play! I spotted him itching for a smoke right from the start, so I refused to leave. Let him stew.”
“You’re the one with real patience,” Li Xia said with a laugh.
Chu Xiaowen grabbed her arm. “You’re telling me! I saw you frowning and about to call him out several times!”
“I can’t tolerate even a speck of sand in my eye,” Li Xia replied, pinching a tiny bit of her nail as she spoke.
“Hahaha.”
The two chatted and laughed as they found a shop selling cold noodles and sat down. They’d joined the game that afternoon on a whim, just to distract themselves. The whole session had lasted over an hour, during which Li Xia had silenced her phone and stuffed it into her bag without checking it once. Now, as Chu Xiaowen fiddled with her own phone to share some funny videos, Li Xia finally pulled hers out.
She unlocked the screen.
There were a few collapsed notifications. She tapped them open—ads from shopping and delivery apps.
Then, with great reluctance, her eyes fell on the lock screen photo.
The man there looked unfamiliar, distant, perfect.
Utterly unrelated to her now.
In that moment, she suddenly had the answer to the abstract versus concrete dilemma—
F had never been real.
He was just a construct piled up from texts, voice messages, and fantasies.
“What’s going on today?”
Seeing Li Xia lost in thought, Chu Xiaowen spoke first.
Chu Xiaowen had noticed something off ever since Li Xia had decided to join the game. Holding back until now, she probed, “Did the other person have something come up?”
It was an obvious out, one Li Xia could have taken with a nod or some vague excuse. But she didn’t. Instead, she pushed her phone aside, met Chu Xiaowen’s gaze, and let out a short, even sigh—like a tiny dash in a sentence.
“I think I took it all too seriously,” she said.
She couldn’t hide her wilted expression, so Chu Xiaowen guessed, “What happened? Did he ghost you?”
“Yeah.”
“How long?”
Li Xia did the math—from last night until now. “About a day.”
Chu Xiaowen slammed down her chopsticks, spitting out a plant name in frustration. “I knew online guys were no good. All hype, no substance. Now he’s pulling that scarcity marketing crap, strutting around like he’s the lord of the manor. What a jerk.”
“Tell me, Xia Xia,” Chu Xiaowen continued, her tone turning serious as if she’d pierced right to the heart of it. “Do you know why he’s ruining your mood so badly?”
“Why?” Li Xia’s eyes flickered with trust and focus.
“Because you haven’t chatted with enough guys!”
“If you were talking to two at once, would you care this much?”
Li Xia was momentarily speechless. “Hahaha, what kind of twisted logic is that?”
Chu Xiaowen launched into a pep talk. In the end, Li Xia steeled herself. “You’re right! If we can’t solve the problem, we’ll solve the guy!”
“Exactly. Deleting him? Piece of cake,” Chu Xiaowen cheered. “Ghost him right back!”
They bantered back and forth, their words tangling around Li Xia like strands of hair blown messy by the wind after sobering up. Chu Xiaowen urged her to seek out high-quality men, to aim for luxury brands instead of discount department stores.
“Aim high, and you’ll land in the middle.”
As Chu Xiaowen spoke, Li Xia’s phone lit up. She glanced at the screen and the man on it. “Otherwise, just go for the best—like the one on your lock screen. Your crush has some value at least.”
Li Xia hadn’t explicitly told her about F being her online chat partner.
Now the words boomeranged straight into her heart.
Li Xia: “…”
Chu Xiaowen: “What’s wrong?”
Li Xia: “…You just called him a jerk.”
“Huh?”
Chu Xiaowen’s slightly swollen hand waved frantically between them, pointing at Li Xia’s phone screen. She was too shocked to speak. “You mean he’s… your… that…?”
Li Xia nodded stiffly.
Chu Xiaowen tried to salvage it. “Xia Xia, you know how it is—everything depends on the situation. Tailor your approach, analyze specifically, play it cool when it’s cold and hot when it’s hot. Treat a dead horse like it might still run…”
“?”
“Keep him. Don’t delete.”
–
After some armchair quarterbacking with Chu Xiaowen, Li Xia went home.
She wasn’t quite used to F’s prolonged silence and felt pretty pathetic for it. Still, she accepted her pathetic state with calm resignation.
As she skirted the neighborhood lawn, she spotted some elderly folks out for their after-dinner strolls, decked out for power walking. From a distance, someone called out behind her, “Little Xia!”
The streetlamp wasn’t very bright. When she turned, she couldn’t make out the figure at first, but a big fluffy white ball of fur had already stretched its leash taut and come bounding over. Li Xia crouched down to pet the little dog’s head affectionately, then looked up with a greeting. “Sister Fang, had dinner already?”
“Just finished and came out for a walk. You just got off work?”
“No, I was hanging out with a friend.”
They’d gotten acquainted during previous dog-walking meetups. Sister Fang’s dog was Little Wheat, a round, grinning white puffball that smiled at everyone—Bread’s good buddy. Li Xia hadn’t walked dogs much lately, so they rarely crossed paths. She glanced down at Little Wheat panting and wagging its tail, watching it scamper playfully before looking away. “Little Wheat’s put on some weight again. You’re taking great care of it.”
“It’s all thanks to that dog recipe book you shared when you were raising Bread. I haven’t gotten creative, so I’ve just stuck with it.”
Li Xia forced a smile. “That’s great, that’s great.”
Afraid Sister Fang might ask more, she quickly said she was heading upstairs.
But as she took a step, Sister Fang grabbed her arm and leaned in close. The light from the streetlamp overhead made Li Xia’s heart skip.
Sister Fang was overly enthusiastic. “By the way, Little Xia, are you thinking of getting another dog? My friend has a long-haired corgi. You could take one home.”
Li Xia subtly tried to push her hand away. “No need, Sister Fang. I’m not planning on it.”
“I heard from your grandma that you were pretty upset after Bread passed, even missed a couple days of work. I meant to check in with you.”
Sister Fang sighed sympathetically. “Sigh, that’s pets for you. They’ll leave you one day. Birth, old age, sickness, death—same as people.”
Li Xia fell silent, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing with a dry sting.
She nodded, her smile strained.
How could she not understand?
Bread had already torn her heart out once.
Many things could enter your life, but you must never let them weave into the fabric of your very being. Otherwise, you’d pay an emotional price beyond measure.
Pets were like that. So were people.
Li Xia knew this all too well.
“But I heard you’re dating now, Little Xia.” Sister Fang’s eyes crinkled with laughter, just like when she and Zhao Xiaolan had tried setting her up before. “That’s wonderful. Good that you’re moving on. People have to look forward, stay happy.”
“If you get the chance, let me meet him. I’ll help you vet him.”
!?
At those words, Li Xia’s heart jolted—
Her fake relationship farce wasn’t over yet!
Zhao Xiaolan had mentioned dining together for the Dragon Boat Festival. By her count, that was only a week away. With F vanished, her mirage of a plan was doomed to collapse in the light of day.
Should she come clean?
She probably had to.
Three flights of stairs, forty-five steps. Li Xia stood before her door, taking deep breaths to steel herself. Before fishing out her keys, she glanced down at her phone.
The screen lit up. It was silent.
No messages from F.
The situation hadn’t miraculously resolved.
If anything, it gave Li Xia even more courage. Scolding be damned—she needed to leap out of this illusory paradise on her own.
Harmless fun wouldn’t kill her, but caring would. Besides, she hadn’t lost anything yet. F hadn’t even scammed her for money. She could cut her losses in time; she ought to be grateful.
With the mindset of marching to the gallows, Li Xia opened the door, ready to spill everything. But only Qu Shuxin was home. Dinner was prepared. Li Xia ate, glanced at Grandma furiously shooting short videos, and retreated alone to the study.
Qu Shuxin had once told her that the study was the best place to clear her mind for thinking or decisions.
The study was small. Approaching the desk, she saw papers scattered messily atop it. Li Xia tidied them to clear space for typing. As she did, she inadvertently spotted Zhao Xiaolan’s handwriting on a white sheet. Curious, Li Xia picked it up:
“Five months, two colors, Shandong (this one’s good)
Eight months, two colors, Sichuan (a bit far)
One year, three colors, outside the sixth ring (not quite)
…”
It looked haphazard yet methodical, with underlines and hesitations—like selections and deliberations.
What was Zhao Xiaolan picking out?
Li Xia recalled that Li Dayong and Zhao Xiaolan had been busy lately. Li Dayong was out frequently, leaving the barbecue shop to Chi Xin, saying he was scouting nearby cities for supplies. Zhao Xiaolan had been acting strange too—taking calls and replying to messages even at meals, inquiring about store locations and asking for photos, like she was shopping for something big.