The first drops fell like whispers, tapping the stone pavement just as Lin Qing Yun stepped out of her apartment block. The drizzle thickened quickly, gray sheets rolling down from the low winter sky, soaking the streets of Liangcheng in a muted hush. She pulled her thin cardigan tighter around her, half-running toward the bookstore café. Usually she didn't mind walking—it was close, only ten minutes by foot—but today the rain felt colder, more intrusive, seeping into her bones.
Halfway there, she ducked under the awning of a closed shop. The neon sign above her buzzed weakly, flickering with each gust of damp wind. Her hands were cold, shivering just enough that she rubbed them together for warmth. She tilted her chin up at the rain and gave a little sigh.
From a distance, a figure approached, tall and sure-footed, holding a red umbrella that glowed against the gray. He walked straight toward her, water sliding off the fabric in steady streams.
"My Sunny."
The voice was soft, low, and intimate, and at once she looked up. The moment her gaze met Gu Ze Yan's, the world shrank into that small circle of red. Her lips curved into a bright, unguarded smile. Without hesitation, she stepped into his arms, burying her face in his chest, seeking warmth.
"How do you know I'm here?" she asked softly, muffled against him.
Ze Yan's arms tightened around her. "The earth orbits the sun. Ze Yan also orbits Sunny. I always know." He leaned back enough to see her face, his eyes glinting under the rain. "It rained, and all I could think was whether you'd arrived safely at the bookstore or if you were stranded somewhere. I took a chance—and fate answered me."
Her cheeks flushed. She tried to hide it by tugging at his sleeve. "Let's go, I'm late."
He tilted the umbrella more toward her side, his shoulder willingly taking the rain. Together they walked through the wet streets, her hand tucked into his, his presence a steady anchor against the cold drizzle.
At the bookstore, Qing Yun hurried to change into her apron and tie back her hair. Ze Yan lingered at the door, reluctant to leave.
"I'll pick you up later," he said, tone calm but eyes unwilling.
She stood on tiptoe, pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, and waved him off with that sunny smile of hers. He finally turned away, the red umbrella bobbing into the rain until he was gone from sight.
The store was quiet, the rain outside tapping gently on the windows. Customers flipped through books in hushed tones. Qing Yun leaned against the counter for a moment, taking in the peace of it—surrounded by shelves, the faint smell of coffee, the steady rhythm of drizzle.
Her phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen: Si Yao.
"Jie, I'm at the apartment," her sister's cheerful voice came through. "I was looking for that English book you always read when you studied. I can't find it anywhere."
Qing Yun thought for a moment. "Ah—it's with Ze Yan. He moved a lot of my things to his place. Don't worry, I'll bring it to you later."
"Okay." Si Yao's voice softened. "Are you going to make tangyuan for Dongzhi this year? You promised."
Qing Yun smiled unconsciously. "Of course. Wait for me."
But before she could tease her sister more, a harsh voice suddenly erupted through the phone, muffled but unmistakable—rough, shouting her full name outside the apartment door.
Qing Yun's heart seized. She knew that voice.
The debt collector.
"What's going on?" she demanded.
"There's someone outside," Si Yao said nervously. "I'll check."
"No! Don't open—"
The line cut.
Qing Yun froze, her pulse racing. She tore off her apron, rushed out of the store into the drizzle. Her eyes searched frantically for a taxi, any ride—but the street was empty.
---
Her phone rang again. This time it was a neighbor auntie, voice frantic, sobbing.
"Qing Yun! Your sister—Si Yao—she… she fell! We took her to the hospital, hurry!"
The words seemed to echo, hollow and sharp, inside Qing Yun's head. She forced herself to breathe, to stay calm. "Which hospital?" she asked, her voice trembling but steady.
The directions were given in a rush.
She ran to the bus stop, her shoes splashing through puddles. The bus arrived by chance, brakes hissing as doors opened. She climbed aboard, clutching the cold metal rail. Raindrops slid down the windows as the city blurred past in streaks of gray and red. Every second was too long. She pressed her hand against the glass, whispering silent prayers, her lips moving soundlessly: Please… please…
The hospital entrance was a blur of white lights and wet umbrellas. She sprinted through, lungs burning, straight to the emergency department.
Neighbors were gathered in a corner, some crying, some clutching each other. When they saw her, they called her name, called Si Yao's name, voices breaking.
A doctor stepped forward, mask pulled down, eyes filled with pity. "Are you her sister?"
Qing Yun could only nod, throat locked.
The doctor's words fell like stones into the silence.
"I'm sorry. She passed on the way here."
The rain outside the hospital continued, soft but relentless, tapping on the windows as if to mark the end of something fragile.