Heart Flutter

Chapter 109

On a city road with a 60 km/h speed limit, a white SUV was tearing down the street, blatantly ignoring every surveillance camera on the corners. Zhou Qiluo had her foot slammed down on the gas, looking completely out of control. One hand gripped the wheel while the other frantically redialed Ji Yuqing’s number—first call, no answer; second, still nothing; third, same result.

“Is she nuts? Driving like that—what’s the rush, reincarnation?” A pedestrian cursed as he nearly got clipped. “Shit, just my luck.”

But no matter how many times she tried, the call couldn’t get through. The automated message always said the phone was powered off. Every time she heard that message, Zhou Qiluo’s chest tightened further. Eventually, she hurled the phone onto the passenger seat and sped straight to the local police station.

At this hour, only a few officers were on duty. Zhou Qiluo parked haphazardly and rushed inside to file a report. The officer on duty asked what kind of case it was.

“Someone’s missing,” she replied. But after asking for the time of disappearance and her relationship with the person, the officer calmly suggested she wait a bit longer and try contacting them again—it hadn’t even been 24 hours.

“But I’m really worried! Please, can’t you just help?” she pleaded.

“If you have evidence to suggest they’re in immediate danger or have been harmed, we can file a case. Otherwise, we can’t proceed.”

Her head drooped, and she mumbled, “I don’t have any proof.”

“Then please go home and wait patiently,” the officer said, gesturing to the door.

She nodded in defeat and left.

Back in her car, Zhou Qiluo slumped into the driver’s seat. Her hands rested weakly on the wheel. She felt utterly powerless. If Yuqing did something drastic because of her—if she hurt herself—she’d never forgive herself. If she had to choose again, Zhou Qiluo thought she’d throw everything aside to be with her, screw the judgment of the world.

But none of that mattered now. Yuqing was missing, and no one knew where she was or if she was even okay.

The thought twisted her heart into knots. It ached so much she bent forward, resting her face against her arms on the wheel, drowning in endless regret.

At the same time, Tang Yan had been searching high and low. A kind-hearted taxi driver had been driving her around all night—meter running, of course. The fare had climbed to a staggering amount. Even the driver gently suggested, “Maybe it’s time to head home… or go to the police?”

Tang Yan wouldn’t give up. Scrolling through the list of places she’d already checked, she said stubbornly, “Just one more place. Please take me there.”

It felt like the last straw, or maybe the final drop of water in a desert—her one sliver of hope.

She poured every bit of that hope into this final location, even imagining how she’d see Aunt Ji again. Silently, she prayed over and over, Please let her be there. Please let me find her.

“We’re here,” the driver said as he pulled over.

Tang Yan opened the door but hesitated to get out. What if it was another disappointment?

“Miss?” the driver called softly.

Snapping out of it, she asked, “Can you wait here for me, just a minute?”

“I’ll wait. Go ahead.”

The night was chilly. Still dressed in her light daytime clothes and already delicate in build, she looked like a ghost drifting down the dim street. Her legs were sore, her feet probably blistered, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on.

She hadn’t even reached the door yet when she realized: the café was closed. Its entrance was pitch black.

For a moment, Tang Yan wanted to cry—but she held it in. Strangers were nearby; she didn’t want them to see her fall apart. Her feet hurt too much, so she crouched down in front of the café, took out her phone, and despairingly replied to Peiwen’s message: she’d checked every location Peiwen had suggested—no sign of Aunt Ji.

Passersby on the commercial street gave her curious looks. Hugging her knees, she stayed perfectly still. Someone might have thought she was asleep.

Eventually, a reply came: Just go back to the inn. It’s late and dangerous to be out. We’ll figure things out in the morning. Yuqing is an adult—let’s not assume the worst.

But Tang Yan didn’t want to give up. I still want to look some more, she texted back.

Peiwen, clearly frustrated, shot back: You’ve searched everywhere she could’ve gone. What more can you do? You think you’re going to scour the whole city by foot? I’m worried too, but being impulsive won’t help. Go back to the inn, now.

Tang Yan didn’t reply.

Eventually, Peiwen called. Reluctantly, Tang Yan stood up and answered, “Okay. I’m heading back now.”

The taxi driver had waited patiently, meter still running. After the call, she staggered back to the car and slumped into the seat. Destination: the inn.

As the car moved through the dim streets, Tang Yan stared out the window at the streetlights. Her eyes stung, tears threatening to fall. Several times, she wiped them away before they could escape.

Ji Yuqing, meanwhile, had no idea her last-minute plan to visit an old friend—and her dead phone—would cause such chaos.

Her friend was a farmer she had donated money to years ago. A little boy in the family had been diagnosed with a rare illness, and Ji Yuqing had seen the crowdfunding post online. Without hesitation, she sent them a large sum and continued to support them over the years. To her, the money was nothing. But to that family, the boy was everything. Helping them had brought her genuine joy.

She had never met them in person—only communicated via messages and video calls. Now that she was in the region, she really wanted to meet the recovered, lively boy and his family.

After work that afternoon, she quickly hired a car and left for the farm, located over 100 kilometers outside the city in a remote grazing area—mostly desert and rocky plains.

The family was warm and welcoming. They slaughtered a lamb and brought out wine to greet her. After a few drinks, she stepped out alone for some air, leaving her phone inside to charge.

Desert nights in the northwest are brutally different from the daytime. As she sat on a boulder in the Gobi desert, the cold wind helped her sober up. Eventually, she strolled back to the house.

Her phone was fully charged. Turning it on, she was stunned to see dozens of missed calls—from Peiwen, from Yanyan… even from that woman. What on earth had happened?

She called Peiwen first.

Peiwen, who had been pacing in panic at home, reacted like she had just won the lottery. “My god, you finally picked up! We thought something happened!”

“What’s going on?” Ji Yuqing asked calmly.

“We all thought you went missing. Everyone’s been looking for you!”

“I just ran out of battery. What happened?”

Yuqing briefly explained her situation. Peiwen, sheepish, told her about the panic, the search, and what she’d soon be facing.

Unsurprisingly, Peiwen got an earful.

“Why would you tell Yanyan about this?”

“I was just worried…”

“You need to calm down before jumping to conclusions.”

“…Yeah. I’m sorry,” Peiwen muttered.

As soon as the call ended, Peiwen couldn’t help herself—she called Tang Yan right away. Which is why, when Yuqing tried calling Tang Yan to reassure her, the line was busy.

Tang Yan was still in the taxi when she got Peiwen’s call—and finally, the good news.

“Really? Aunt Ji is okay? That’s amazing!” Tang Yan, who had held back tears all night, finally broke down in relief.

The driver, overhearing, asked, “Do you still want to go back?”

“Wait a minute!” she said quickly, asking Peiwen where Aunt Ji was.

Peiwen hesitated. “She’s far away. Are you sure you want to go now?”

“I have to,” Tang Yan said, voice firm. “Even if she were a thousand kilometers away.”

She had to see her tonight.

The driver was stunned. “Miss, I can’t take you that far. At most, I can drive you to the airport.”

Tang Yan laughed. “No, it’s not that far.” Then she gave him the address—just over 100 kilometers away. An hour on the highway.

The driver wavered, but she quickly added, “I’ll pay more—double, triple!”

Nothing could stop her now.

In the end, he agreed, not charging her extra. It was far, and he probably wouldn’t find a return passenger. But seeing her so desperate—and already having paid a hefty fare—he decided to do a good deed.

By now, it was nearly 11 PM. Her roommates had finished their reports and diaries, some already in bed. Concerned, they messaged in the group chat.

Tang Yan replied: she had news and was going to see Aunt Ji. She might not return tonight, but she shared her location to ease their worry.

“Isn’t that place really remote?”

“You think she got scammed?”

“Let’s go tell the innkeeper. Sister Zhou isn’t back either.”

They went downstairs and informed He Xu, the innkeeper.

He called Zhou Qiluo.

At the time, Zhou Qiluo was still driving aimlessly through the streets, searching. She didn’t know where Ji Yuqing might be, so she was checking street by street. Seeing He Xu’s call made her even more frustrated. She let it ring.

He Xu called again. This time, she answered—and immediately exploded. “He Xu, what the hell do you want?!”

“I just wanted to tell you—we got an update,” he said cautiously.

She calmed down slightly. “Go on.”

He relayed everything the girls had said. Then he asked softly, “Where are you? When will you be back?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she said coldly and hung up.

She slammed the gas and sped off toward the village over 100 kilometers away.

He Xu lowered his phone in defeat. The others looked at him, the mood awkward.

“We’ll go upstairs now…”

And then, whispers:

“Told you they weren’t that close.”

“Did you see how scared he was of her?”

“Love is just surface-level, huh…”

Outside, Ji Yuqing stood shivering in the cold wind, trying to reach Tang Yan. When the call finally went through, she said gently, “I’m okay. Stay at the inn. I’ll explain everything when I get back.”

But Tang Yan replied, “I’m already on my way, Aunt Ji. I’m almost there.”

That one sentence shattered all of Ji Yuqing’s composure. Her legs went weak, her chest tightened, and her heart pounded.

“Aunt Ji, I’m near the village entrance. Can you come get me? The taxi won’t drive in.”

“…Okay,” she croaked out after a long silence.

She broke into a run, reaching the village entrance in no time. There she stood, trembling, eyes scanning the road. A car emerged from the bend and pulled up about 50 meters away. Tang Yan didn’t get out immediately—she was busy paying.

The driver gave her a discount, rounding down the fare.

When Tang Yan finally stepped out, she saw Aunt Ji and couldn’t wait another second.

Without thinking, without hesitation, she ran forward and threw her arms around the woman in front of her.

Right behind the taxi was another car—Zhou Qiluo’s. She had driven recklessly fast, passing car after car, and had noticed the taxi ahead seemed to be heading to the same place.

But she hadn’t expected this.

The person she’d come all this way, all this distance, risking everything to see… was now in someone else’s arms.

And that realization hit her like a punch to the gut.