My Ex-Girlfriend Said She Was A Fairy - Chapter 16

The heavy rain began at night, the sound of raindrops hitting the glass clearly audible inside the room. Ji Qingyi listened to the rain as her thoughts gradually blurred, little by little slipping into dreams.

 

 

By the time she woke up, the rain had stopped, but the sky was still a dull grayish-blue. It would probably start raining again soon, Ji Qingyi thought as she looked out the window. There was nothing to be done about it—this was simply the rainy season, and the downpours were endless, even forming small rivers on the streets.

 

 

And yet, Wen Yuchuan had to show up at a time like this… Ji Qingyi sighed again. She had been sighing too much lately, but these things only left her helpless. It was hard to truly get angry because there was no one to blame—only fate.

 

 

Glancing at the time, she saw it was already past eleven. Time to prepare lunch. She had intended to put her phone down right away, but the unread notification bothered her, so she eventually tapped into the chat window.

 

 

“What do you want to eat?”

 

 

She checked the time—sent just half a minute ago. Replying now would practically count as an instant reply. It wouldn’t hurt to wait a little longer. So, Ji Qingyi ignored it and got out of bed to freshen up. Only after she was ready did she open the chat again.

 

 

“Already ate.”

 

 

Of course, that wasn’t true.

 

 

Ji Qingyi tore open the instant noodle packet, dumped the noodles and seasoning into a bowl, and went to boil water.

 

 

Just as she pressed the button to start the kettle, she heard a knock at the door. Seriously? Ji Qingyi clicked her tongue in annoyance. Couldn’t she even have a moment of peace?

 

 

She walked to the door and peeked through the peephole—sure enough, it was Wen Yuchuan.

 

 

“What is it now?”

 

 

Ji Qingyi still opened the door.

 

 

“Didn’t you say you already ate?”

 

 

“Yeah.”

 

 

“Then why do I smell instant noodles?”

 

 

“Are you a dog or something?”

 

 

“Do you like dogs, then?”

 

 

“……”

 

 

Ji Qingyi fell silent at the other’s words.

 

 

“Cake.”

 

 

Seeing her speechless expression, Wen Yuchuan grinned, eyes crinkling, and waved a small cake in front of her.

 

 

Ji Qingyi looked at her with mixed feelings. She really couldn’t understand this strange behavior—as if feeding her was some kind of duty.

 

 

“No need. You eat it.”

 

 

“I already ate.”

 

 

“Then save it for tonight. If you’re this broke, stop wasting money.”

 

 

“……”

 

 

Ji Qingyi closed the door again.

 

 

Finally managing to shut her out for once, Ji Qingyi felt a little satisfied with herself.

 

 

Though Wen Yuchuan didn’t keep knocking, the messages didn’t stop.

 

 

After a string of crying emojis, a voice message came through, sounding pitiful and aggrieved: “Do you hate me again?”

 

 

Again? More like always. Ji Qingyi mentally retorted, but hearing the tone, she inexplicably couldn’t bring herself to reply with full conviction. In the end, she just sent:

 

 

“I have to take my meds. Can’t eat cake.”

 

 

Giving a reason at all was already a form of placation, Ji Qingyi thought. She really didn’t want to do this, but Wen Yuchuan had cooked for her for two days, so she said it anyway.

 

 

Wen Yuchuan finally quieted down, replying with “Then take your meds properly.” before going silent.

 

 

Is she actually upset now? Ji Qingyi couldn’t help but wonder. Being shut out like that—it would be normal to get angry…

 

 

 

But wasn’t this better? They should have fewer interactions anyway. Ji Qingyi finally had a quiet day—no sudden intruders, no constant interruptions from messages.

 

 

She had just taken her medicine when the rain started again, the drops clattering noisily against the iron railings of the balcony. She drew the curtains, plunging the room into darkness, cutting off the view outside.

 

 

Ji Qingyi retreated to her room, where the sound of rain now drummed against the glass. She pulled the curtains shut once more, submerging the space in darkness again. She didn’t want to hear the rain or see it, but a gust of wind slipped in, parting the curtains just enough to let in a sliver of light—not bright, but enough to disrupt the balance.

 

 

Only then did Ji Qingyi realize the window wasn’t properly closed. Sighing, she stood up and walked over to the windowsill, pulling the curtains open.

 

 

The sky outside was a dull gray-black, but it was still brighter than the room. Rain drifted in through the window, bringing a fresh chill to her face. She stared blankly outside as water streaked down the glass, leaving distorted trails that blurred her reflection. She was awake, yet suddenly dazed again. She didn’t know what she was thinking—no, she shouldn’t be thinking about anything. Nothing particularly bad had happened today. The worst thing was just the weather. Yet, for some reason, she felt an inexplicable discomfort. She couldn’t pinpoint where it came from, only the heaviness in her chest proving that this emotion had indeed coursed through her.

 

 

How absurd.

 

 

Ji Qingyi pulled the window shut, locked it, and drew the curtains again. The scattered tapping of rain persisted, but it was quieter now.

 

 

She sat on the bed. It wasn’t good to sleep right after eating, but she didn’t feel like doing anything else. She scrolled through videos for a while, but the more she watched, the worse she felt—as if she had lost something. But she hadn’t lost anything. This was just an ordinary weekend for her.

 

 

…

 

 

No messages. Ji Qingyi glanced at WeChat, then immediately regretted it, scolding herself for being pathetic. She quickly closed the app, trying to mask her own anticipation.

 

 

 

Ji Qingyi spent the day in silence. She tried watching a thriller but couldn’t focus, so she switched to a lighthearted comedy. Yet every time, halfway through, she completely forgot the plot. She couldn’t immerse herself—her thoughts had already drifted away, tangled in distant memories.

 

 

She sighed again. The heaviness in her chest had turned into restlessness, and now it was just exhaustion. She didn’t understand her own mood, nor did she know what she was even thinking about.

 

 

It wasn’t until evening that she received a message from Wen Yuchuan.

 

 

“I have something to take care of and will be away for two days.”

 

 

At first, Ji Qingyi wondered if this was just another excuse for him to come over. But after reading the words, her throat tightened.

 

 

Something to take care of? If it wasn’t work-related, then what else could it be? No—why did it matter? It had nothing to do with her. Ji Qingyi gave up trying to figure it out.

 

 

“You don’t have to tell me.”

 

 

“I was afraid you’d worry if you couldn’t find me.”

 

 

“… Impossible.”

 

 

“Then take care of yourself. Don’t get sick again.”

 

 

“I don’t need your reminders.”

 

 

Wen Yuchuan didn’t reply after that.

 

 

Ji Qingyi stared at her own messages. They sounded too cold. She regretted it a little, but at the same time, she knew this was for the best.

 

 

Walking to the balcony to collect yesterday’s laundry, she couldn’t help but glance at the neighboring apartment. The lights were already off.

 

 

Had he already left?

 

 

Something so urgent…

 

 

 

Ji Qingyi suddenly felt her heart grow heavier, but she reminded herself not to dwell on it—what concerned that person had long ceased to be any of her business.

 

 

__

 

 

Ji Qingyi arrived at the office a little earlier than usual today, which was somewhat unusual in a workplace where almost everyone clocked in right on time. But what was even more unusual was that someone had arrived even earlier.

 

 

“Good morning.”

 

 

“Morning.”

 

 

Ji Qingyi smiled and greeted Shen Xizhao, thinking to herself how typical it was of a fresh graduate to still be so enthusiastic about work.

 

 

“Why did you leave so suddenly on Friday?”

 

 

Before work officially started, Shen Xizhao came over to chat.

 

 

“I wasn’t feeling well later, so I took leave.”

 

 

“Are you better now?”

 

 

“Yes.”

 

 

“That’s good.”

 

 

Shen Xizhao smiled as he spoke.

 

 

Ji Qingyi smiled back, assuming the conversation would end there, but Shen Xizhao showed no intention of leaving.

 

 

“I was actually going to ask if you were free over the weekend.”

 

 

“Huh?”

 

 

Ji Qingyi looked up at him in confusion.

 

 

“I heard there’s a temple nearby where the fortune-telling is really accurate. I thought it might be fun to check it out.”

 

 

“Ah?”

 

 

Ji Qingyi stared at him blankly, her expression growing even more bewildered.

 

 

“It’s no fun going alone, so I was wondering if you’d like to come.”

 

 

“Oh… I see. Temples… I don’t know much about them.”

 

 

Ji Qingyi responded vaguely. Though she had occasionally entertained the idea of visiting a temple to burn incense and ward off bad luck, it had never gone beyond idle thought—she had no real intention of acting on it.

 

 

A famous temple nearby? She had no recollection of it at all.

 

 

“Actually, it’s not the temple itself that’s famous. It’s more about the cats there—that’s what makes it special.”

 

 

“Oh, cats? I think I’ve heard of that.”

 

 

Ji Qingyi suddenly remembered coming across a video about a temple with many rescued stray cats. After the video went viral, the place had become something of a tourist hotspot.

 

 

“Do you like cats?”

 

 

“…If they’re cute, then yes.”

 

 

Ji Qingyi smiled and answered slowly, feeling increasingly uneasy. Though the conversation itself seemed harmless, Shen Xizhao’s unwavering gaze made her uncomfortable. She had already leaned back slightly, but he closed the distance again without any sense of boundaries, which only added to her discomfort.

 

 

“Cute? What counts as cute?”

 

 

“Well…”

 

 

Ji Qingyi suddenly felt a sense of pressure, even a hint of panic. No matter how she looked at it, being cornered by someone younger than her was just embarrassing. Without finishing her sentence, she abruptly changed the subject.

 

 

“You’re standing too close.”

 

 

Only after Ji Qingyi said this did Shen Xizhao finally apologize and step back.

 

 

“I think all cats are cute.”

 

 

Shen Xizhao suddenly remarked.

 

 

“Yeah… I suppose so.”

 

 

Ji Qingyi agreed, thinking to herself that those without a sense of personal space weren’t quite as cute. But then again, that probably applied to all living creatures, not just cats…

 

 

“So, do you want to go together sometime?”

 

 

“Hmm… I’ll think about it. I might not have the time.”

 

 

Ji Qingyi replied slowly, sounding somewhat resigned.

 

 

“Alright, we’ll talk about it later then.”

 

 

Shen Xizhao smiled and returned to his workstation.

 

 

As Ji Qingyi watched him walk away, she couldn’t shake the growing sense of strangeness. It wasn’t just that he seemed like an overly persistent junior—it was something else. She couldn’t pinpoint where this feeling came from, but she had an instinctive sense that she shouldn’t get too close to him. If she had to put it into words, it was just… intuition.

 

 

 

Ji Qingyi didn’t quite understand it herself, but soon it was time, and she had no more leisure to dwell on these perplexing matters, turning instead to her new tasks.

 

 

__

 

 

After finishing her morning work, the takeout arrived.

 

 

When Ji Qingyi went downstairs to pick up her order, she saw Shen Xizhao. He was squatting on the ground, doing something she couldn’t discern. She hadn’t intended to approach, but Shen Xizhao suddenly turned and called out to her.

 

 

“Qingyi.”

 

 

Ji Qingyi responded and walked closer, only to realize Shen Xizhao was feeding stray cats. She was surprised—she’d never noticed strays here before. Though she occasionally spotted one or two, such a large group was unheard of.

 

 

Could they all have been drawn here by Shen Xizhao? she wondered, watching him distribute cat food. But this was just too many.

 

 

As Ji Qingyi’s thoughts wandered, a small orange cat suddenly approached and rubbed against her ankle, then flopped down without a care, exposing its soft white belly as if asking to be petted.

 

 

“It likes you,” Shen Xizhao said with a smile.

 

 

“Eh… but you’re the one feeding it,” Ji Qingyi replied.

 

 

Yet as she looked at the fluffy little creature, her guard melted away, her tone softening in surprise as she crouched down to stroke the kitten’s belly.

 

 

“Yeah, it’s strange.”

 

 

“Right…”

 

 

Though she kept up the conversation, Ji Qingyi had already fallen into the fluffy trap. Her thoughts ground to a halt, her mind filled with nothing but how adorable, how utterly adorable it all was.