A divorce agreement on paper, an empty villa—only a mother and daughter sat blankly in the hall, staring into space.
Only the mother sobbed softly.
Scenes like this had long become familiar to her; this was nothing more than an outcome, one she had expected.
In the blazing summer of 2013, she lost her father—lost her family... and within just a month, she would also lose her mother.
Left alone in an empty house, but the money left behind was enough to support her until adulthood.
Her name was Ji Chen'ai, an outstanding student in the Department of Psychology at University A.
And beyond that—she was nothing.
Dust—Chen'ai—like dust itself, humble and lowly.
She never denied this notion, because she believed it too.
She lived like a hedgehog—cautious, withdrawn.
A person who had no one left in this world had no other desires, only the need to simply keep on living.
How terrifying it is when wounds, once torn open and bleeding by the world, become something you grow used to.
Perhaps loneliness was the only form of relief.
She felt nothing toward this world—and honestly, she didn't even know what emotions were. Could they feed you?
This moment—this was what true release felt like.
"Hey! What are you thinking about? You almost walked straight into that tree!" Luo Yi gave Ji Chen'ai a shove, snapping her out of it.
Damn it. Thinking about the past again.
Ji Chen'ai brushed her forehead. "The list for the provincial department internship is being posted this afternoon. I'm just a little nervous."
Luo Yi looked at her in silence. She knew Ji Chen'ai wasn't nervous—not even close.
Over the past few years, Ji Chen'ai had seemed calm on the surface, but Luo Yi knew the truth: she had suffered. She had wandered. She had struggled.
In the beginning, she would cry into her pillow late at night, overwhelmed by the pain of losing everything.
But slowly, numbness became her normal. She even learned how to hypnotize herself into surviving it.
Yes, even Luo Yi had to admit—it was unfair. Life had been cruel to Ji Chen'ai.
Everyone walks through the chaos of life alone, armed with nothing but themselves.
One thought can stir the winds and change everything; one misstep can lead to ruin with no way back.
In front of the school bulletin board...
Ji Chen'ai stared at the list for a long time before her eyes finally settled on the first name:
Ji Chen'ai – Department of Criminal Psychology – Pre-approved by the Provincial Department – Internship begins April 18.
"That's amazing! Chen'ai, you got into the provincial department!" Luo Yi threw her arms around her excitedly.
But Ji Chen'ai's expression remained calm and indifferent.
Yes, everything was within her expectations.
What was there to be excited about?
Luo Yi grabbed her hand with a grin. "Don't walk around with that grumpy face all the time! You got into the provincial department—you have to celebrate! How about Ningxin Bar tonight, hmm?"
She poked Ji Chen'ai's waist with her elbow.
Ji Chen'ai snorted. "Why wouldn't I dare? Gotta enjoy myself before the internship starts."
She went back to her rented apartment, tidied up a bit, took a shower, and changed into a fresh set of clothes.
She didn't live in the dorms. She preferred being alone, moving through the world at her own pace.
Even when Luo Yi asked to move in with her, she had refused.
Maybe… she had just grown used to being alone.
To the outside world, she looked fearless, reckless, like some wild creature unafraid of anything.
Some admired her like a myth, others laughed at her—just a child abandoned by God.
No happiness, and she didn't seem to care.
She was long past the age of youthful recklessness, yet her heart still burned with passion—she refused to believe in fate.
Even if life was destined to be tragic, Ji Chen'ai would carve out her own path and live it on her own terms.
How many times had she hovered on the edge of the abyss?
It was only her iron will that kept her from falling back in.
Night had fallen.
As darkness settled over the city, Ji Chen'ai walked along the bustling streets, feeling an overwhelming loneliness.
Her deep-set eyes were dry, almost painfully so.
Perhaps there was nothing left in this world that could stir her joy, anger, sorrow, or delight.
Through the restaurant windows, she saw families sitting together, laughing and eating in warmth and harmony.
Couples whispered sweet nothings to each other, lost in their own little worlds.
A trace of bitterness rose in her throat.
But in her heart, she screamed:
Why? Why not me?
…Heh.
Because she was no ruler of this world.
Just an ant—something that could be crushed at any moment, without a second thought.
But that was exactly what stirred up those cruel memories—
Those endless, suffocating days at home with her mother.
Every time her mother got angry, she'd take it out on her.
"Ha… haha… Serves her right for dying!"
Unknowingly, Ji Chen'ai had already arrived at the entrance of the bar.
She looked up, her face revealed to the crowd—eyes filled with a quiet, bitter resentment.
Without hesitation, Ji Chen'ai pushed open the door and walked inside.
The bar was still a bit empty. She glanced at her watch—8 PM. Still early.
In the distance, Luo Yi was already seated at the bar.
She was practically the queen of the night scene—no one knew how to navigate it better than her.
With a wealthy grandfather who doted on her, she could get away with anything.
Take this bar, for instance—it existed because Luo Yi had coaxed her grandfather into investing in it.
So who dared to let Luo Yi pay the bill tonight?
Ji Chen'ai felt a sudden jolt in her chest—
Damn it, she's setting me up.
She shot a suspicious glance at Luo Yi.
Luo Yi scratched her head sheepishly, eyes darting away guiltily.
Oh well.
After all, she was Ji Chen'ai's one and only true friend.
Ji Chen'ai scanned the surroundings.
Under the dim, amber lighting, groups of young men and women drowned themselves in intoxicated joy,
pretending to be troubled, radiating that unmistakable, hormone-charged energy of youth.