Heart Flutter

Chapter 107

Ji Yuqing had never imagined that, after more than a decade apart, their reunion would happen like this—in such a dramatic, unexpected way. No wonder the voice on that call had sounded so familiar.

The air felt frozen, the silence stretched for nearly a full minute. Zhou Qiluo struggled to stay composed, but her eyes still reddened despite her efforts. All the words she’d buried in her heart for years collapsed into a single polite and distant greeting: “Hello.”

Ji Yuqing’s expression remained calm and unreadable as she nodded slightly. “Hello.” Without saying another word, she pulled her ID from her bag and placed it on the front desk for check-in.

Zhou Qiluo hesitated for a second before reaching out to take the ID. The woman in the photo looked refined, calm, serious. She quickly glanced at the address—exactly the same as the one she’d seen on the younger girl’s ID the day before. A quiet suspicion rose in her heart.

“All done,” Zhou Qiluo said, handing the ID back.

“Thanks,” Ji Yuqing replied simply, accepting it.

Zhou Qiluo then quickly retrieved a keycard from the drawer. “You’re in the room at the very top floor. Turn left at the stairs.”

“Thank you.” Another automatic reply. Ji Yuqing took the card, grabbed her suitcase handle, and turned to head upstairs. Zhou Qiluo clenched her fists, then suddenly rushed out from behind the desk.

“Yu Qing!” she called, her voice trembling.

Ji Yuqing’s back went rigid. She stopped on the stairs, motionless and silent.

After a long moment, Zhou Qiluo sniffled and wiped the corner of her eye. Just as she was about to speak again, Ji Yuqing’s voice cut through the silence—calm, expressionless, as if from a robot. “It’s late. Get some sleep.”

Without waiting for a response, she hauled her suitcase up the stairs. By the time Zhou Qiluo looked up again, the hallway was empty.

She stood there at the foot of the stairs, stunned, like someone who’d lost their soul. Only after a long while did she return to her seat, unable to sit still no matter how she shifted. Tonight, she knew she wouldn’t be sleeping.

In the end, Zhou Qiluo couldn’t resist picking up her phone. She opened the call history and saved the unfamiliar number from earlier, labeling it simply “Yu Qing.” Then she opened a message window, typed a few words—and deleted them again. It was too late. Better not to disturb her.

There was a small bedroom on the first floor of the guesthouse—where Zhou Qiluo stayed when she didn’t go home. After locking the iron front gate and turning off the lobby lights, she showered and lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Just knowing that person was right above her, sleeping in the room upstairs—it felt unreal. Like a dream. After all these years, she had finally seen the one person who had never left her thoughts.

But… Zhou Qiluo turned onto her side, resting her head on her arm, brows furrowed. After so many years, what right did she still have? She clenched the sheets, overcome with guilt and regret. So many emotions came flooding in at once, threatening to drown her.

Yes, she was the one who broke the promise. She didn’t have the courage. To be the dutiful daughter, she obeyed her parents’ wishes and married the man she was supposed to. Only she knew how hollow the marriage truly was—legally bound but empty in every other sense.

She had tried to forget her. She moved across the country from Huadu to this distant city, built a life here, tried to move on. But she couldn’t. She never could. And now, the barriers between them weren’t just morality—but distance too.

Since coming to Urumqi, Zhou Qiluo had poured herself into running the guesthouse. Meeting different people, listening to their stories—it gave her something to focus on, something to numb the ache. It also helped her avoid having to pretend for her husband’s family, skipping the charade of being the perfect wife.

She had resigned herself to a quiet, repentant life. That was her punishment.

But never had she imagined that one day, here of all places, they would meet again.

And now, the heart that had long since gone numb with time was thudding wildly again—beating faster and louder with each second.

In the dark, Zhou Qiluo pressed a hand to her chest. What was she supposed to do? Pretend nothing happened? Keep acting like they were strangers? Or should she throw caution aside? Maybe, just maybe, the moment she laid eyes on her again, her heart had already decided.

Upstairs, Ji Yuqing had returned to her room. It was spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a sweeping view of the city’s nightscape. Everything was clean, elegant—just like the person who had prepared it.

She set down her suitcase and walked to the window. After a brief glance outside, she closed the curtains firmly. She was too tired to let her mind wander.

Under the hot shower, she let the water wash away the weariness of travel. Steam fogged the bathroom mirror, and the water traced lines down her back. Her thoughts blurred.

If she’d known things would be this awkward, she would never have booked this place. Maybe she would’ve reconsidered the whole trip to Xinjiang.

After her shower, she changed into fresh pajamas, tied up her hair in a loose bun, adjusted the room’s air conditioning to the perfect temperature, and turned off the lights. Lying in bed, she told herself to stay calm. What was done was done.

She was too old for reckless emotional outbursts. Whatever happened, she would handle it. Accept it. Deal with it.

And with that, she fell into a deep sleep.

—

Morning.

The noisiest room in the guesthouse was, unsurprisingly, the one with the four girls. It sounded like a full-on tea party, gossip and laughter filling every corner. Tang Yan woke up in the middle of the chatter, groggy.

“Where are we going today?” she mumbled.

“You seriously forgot?” Xia Zihan gasped in mock outrage. “We planned to go to the provincial museum for research today!”

“Oh… right, I remember now.” Tang Yan slipped out of bed and into her slippers, then headed for the bathroom.

With the extra space, Xia Zihan rolled around on the bed, hugging her blanket. “This bed’s way too comfy. I don’t want to go anywhere. It’s so hot outside.”

Han Shuang checked her phone. “Yikes! Today’s high is outrageous. We’re gonna melt.”

Lu Wan made a face and started picking out clothes. “Not like we have a choice. It’s a school project. If we don’t finish it, none of us are graduating.”

“Exactly. Come on, let’s all get up.” Xia Zihan climbed out of bed too.

Tang Yan stared at her reflection. Her dark circles looked worse than ever. She’d slept poorly—waking up and falling asleep over and over again. Even though she’d had her own blanket, it still felt strange sleeping in the same bed as someone else. Not like Zihan, who had snored the whole night like a baby. Maybe this was the difference between her and a regular straight girl?

“Hey, Tang Yan, are you done? I really need to go!” someone yelled from outside the bathroom.

“Almost! Coming out now.”

After nearly an hour of dressing, makeup, and packing, they finally headed downstairs—where they found breakfast already waiting for them.

“What? There’s breakfast?” they exclaimed. The booking hadn’t mentioned it.

“Come have some,” Zhou Qiluo said with a warm smile. “If you trust my cooking, that is.”

The girls exchanged glances. It was late, and finding food outside in a strange city would take time. Better to just eat here—and besides, it would be rude to turn her down.

“I made Xinjiang-style lamb pilaf. Not sure if it’s authentic, but give it a try.”

“Sounds amazing! I’m starving. Don’t mind if we do.” Xia Zihan grabbed her chopsticks and stuffed her mouth full. “Sister Zhou, did you eat yet? Come join us!”

“No need. I ate early,” Zhou Qiluo replied casually. But her eyes kept drifting toward the quiet one—Tang Yan. She was curious. What was her connection to Yuqing? Why did they share the same registered address?

Tang Yan, sharp as always, noticed the glances. Though she kept her head down, she could feel the strange attention.

Right on time, the car Zihan had booked pulled up outside. The girls thanked Zhou Qiluo after breakfast and left.

Zhou Qiluo cleared the table and returned to the kitchen to prep the next meal. This time, she made a Western-style breakfast. The scent of buttered pancakes filled the air. She smiled as she reached for the raisins—only to find the bag already in someone else’s hand.

“Still cooking? I thought the guests all left,” said her husband.

Zhou Qiluo took the raisins without a word and sprinkled them over the pancake. “Don’t forget—the guest in the top-floor suite is still here.”

He frowned. “But there’s plenty of pilaf left. Why go to the trouble?”

She ignored him, continuing her work. Once done, she placed the pancakes neatly on a pretty plate.

“I’ll take it up for you,” he offered. “You’ve worked hard all morning. Let me help.”

“I’ve got it,” she said flatly, brushing past him.

He stood there, sighing. He was used to this. If this distant arrangement made her happy, he would accept it. It was the least he could do.

Before heading upstairs, Zhou Qiluo paused at the mirror, fixed her hair and makeup, then finally went up—heart pounding like a schoolgirl’s.

After all these years, that feeling hadn’t changed. She still liked her—no, she loved her. The one and only Ji Yuqing.

Knock knock knock.

Ji Yuqing stirred from sleep. Her first instinct was to check her phone—already late morning. She’d slept so long. In the past, she used to wake up early from excitement. Now, even eight hours wasn’t enough.

She drew open the curtains, letting sunlight flood the room, then went to answer the door.

Zhou Qiluo stood there, smiling with that familiar row of eight perfect teeth. “This is part of our breakfast service,” she said, then added more softly, “I made your favorite.”

Ji Yuqing glanced at the tray, her voice cool. “I didn’t order breakfast.”

“It’s free,” Zhou Qiluo explained quickly, flustered. “Yuqing, I made it just for you. Remember? You used to love the pancakes I made.”

Ji Yuqing turned her face away. “I don’t like them anymore.” She moved to close the door.

Zhou Qiluo reached out to stop her—and her wrist got caught, hard. Her face twisted in pain, clutching her arm.

Ji Yuqing paused. “Are you okay?”

Through the pain, Zhou Qiluo forced a smile. “I knew it… you still care.”

But Ji Yuqing’s answer was like ice. “Don’t misunderstand. I would’ve asked anyone the same.”

Zhou Qiluo said nothing.

“If there’s nothing else, I’d like to go back inside,” Ji Yuqing added.

“Wait—Yuqing…” Zhou Qiluo bit her lip, lowered her head. “I know… you blame me. You should. I wronged you. I broke my promise. I married someone else. Whatever you do to me, I won’t complain. I deserve it. It’s karma.”

Ji Yuqing took a deep breath, cutting her off. “It’s in the past. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. Life moves forward… and so should you.”

Her words were both a warning—and a wish. A hope that Zhou Qiluo could finally let go.