Chapter 120: Before Dawn

She hauled Luo Xiaoning’s upper body up first. Luo Xiaoning’s head lolled to one side. She didn’t wake.

Su Yutao grabbed both her hands and dragged her toward the sofa, step by step.

Her little penguin slippers scuffed across the floor. Something crunched underfoot.

She looked down and nudged it with her toe. It was a hard piece of plastic, snapped in two. Looked like a remote.

She ignored it and kept dragging.

Luo Xiaoning’s body scraped along the ground. Her pajamas bunched up. Her hair trailed across the floor.

Su Yutao’s arms ached. She sat back, propping herself up on her little hands, and cursed inwardly: ‘Is this pink-haired brat a pig? Still not waking up. She’s so heavy.’

She rested for a while, then felt her way up and kept dragging.

She reached the sofa, climbed on first, knelt down, then took Luo Xiaoning’s hands and pulled upward.

Nothing budged.

She pulled harder. Still nothing.

She caught her breath, set Qiansui aside, and grabbed one of Luo Xiaoning’s arms with both hands. She leaned back, putting her whole weight into it.

Luo Xiaoning’s upper body came up onto the sofa. Su Yutao kept pulling.

Luo Xiaoning’s head came up. Then, thud, her head hit something.

The sound was sharp, like metal hitting bone.

The pain woke Luo Xiaoning. Her eyes snapped open, dazed.

Su Yutao was leaning over her, head down, white hair hanging loose, face turned toward her, purple eyes half shut, no expression.

She was still holding Luo Xiaoning’s arm, pulling upward.

Luo Xiaoning winced, baring her teeth in pain. She felt around beside her head and touched something hard and round. A frying pan.

She had tossed it on the sofa after beating up those thugs.

Her head had hit the pan. There was a bump now.

She rubbed her head and sat up, staring at Su Yutao, her voice hoarse and confused:

“What… what are you doing? Little White Hair, you’re not trying to do me in, are you?”

Su Yutao let go and retreated to the other end of the sofa. She hugged Qiansui and curled up.

Her lips were pursed, her cheeks puffed out, the sulky look of someone who had done a good deed and been yelled at for it.

She huffed in Luo Xiaoning’s direction and squeezed two words out: “Sleep… cold.”

Then she pointed at the floor, pointed at Luo Xiaoning, and mimed pulling upward.

Luo Xiaoning watched her gestures and slowly figured it out.

She had been dragging her onto the sofa.

She was afraid Luo Xiaoning would catch cold sleeping on the floor.

Luo Xiaoning sat on the sofa, hair a mess, tear stains still on her face, a red bump on her forehead from the pan.

She looked at Su Yutao. The little thing was curled in the corner of the sofa, hugging Qiansui, lips still pursed, face turned away, ignoring her.

Luo Xiaoning opened her mouth, wanting to say something. Her throat felt blocked.

She lowered her head. Her voice was muffled, thick with the nasal tone of someone who had cried. “…Thank you.”

Su Yutao still ignored her.

But she hugged Qiansui a little tighter.

The two sat on the sofa, a small distance between them, neither looking at the other.

Outside the window, the sky was still dark. The lamp was on, casting light over the messy living room.

Luo Xiaoning hugged her knees and said in a small voice: “Do you know, today I almost handed you over.”

Su Yutao didn’t react.

Luo Xiaoning went on, more to herself than to anyone:

“When they came looking for you, I hesitated. I thought, if I hand you over, I’m free.”

“Sister Lin can’t blame me for that. She raised you herself, and you got snatched away. What does that have to do with me?”

Her voice grew smaller and smaller.

“But I’m scared of her. I’m scared she’ll really kill me.”

Su Yutao’s fingers paused on Qiansui’s fur.

Luo Xiaoning continued: “But in the end I didn’t call you out to them. I beat those people away.”

“But it hurt. It really hurt.”

As she said it, she hugged herself tighter.

“And I just realized, when my sister comes for me later, what am I supposed to do? How do I explain this?”

“If she finds out I got involved with that kind of organization, she’ll beat me to death.”

She gave a bitter laugh. It was light and dry.

“My sister is scarier than your Sister Lin. Your Sister Lin at least reasons with you. Mine doesn’t. If she’s not happy, she hits me. Just like that.”

Su Yutao said nothing.

She was quiet for a long time. Then she slowly shuffled over, closer to Luo Xiaoning.

She reached out, groped until she touched Luo Xiaoning’s head, and gently pressed it against her own shoulder.

Luo Xiaoning froze. Her body stiffened for a moment, but she didn’t pull away.

She reached out and patted her head softly. Once. Twice. Like soothing a wounded little animal.

A small “mmm, mmm” sound came from her mouth, soft and gentle, as if to say “it’s okay now.”

Luo Xiaoning’s eyes turned red again.

She bit her lip and held the tears back, but her body trembled slightly.

She leaned against Su Yutao’s shoulder, eyes closed, breathing slow and even.

She didn’t speak, and Su Yutao stopped humming.

The two leaned on each other in the messy living room, under the dim yellow light, in the silence of the deep night.

The sky outside was still dark.

Dawn was still far away.

Meanwhile, on the other side, at the entrance to the complex.

Luo Qianning stood at the gate and glanced down at the location on her phone screen.

The little dot was inside this complex. It had stopped moving, like it was asleep.

She looked up and studied the complex in the light of the streetlights.

Old apartment blocks. A big patch of exterior wall had peeled off. Wires crisscrossed between the buildings like spiderwebs.

Cardboard and styrofoam boxes were piled by the trash bins, no one around to take them away.

It looked familiar.

Wasn’t this where Lin Xue lived?

What was Luo Xiaoning doing at Lin Xue’s place? Luo Qianning frowned. With that lazy streak of hers, she should be holed up at home playing games right now, chip bags all over the floor, too lazy to even bother washing up.

She put her phone away and walked into the complex with long strides. Her high heels clicked on the cement, steady and unhurried.

She thought: ‘When I find that girl, I’ll beat her butt until it’s black and blue. Teach her a lesson.’

‘Out all night by herself. Phone not picking up. No replies to messages. Left a crumpled note at home.’

‘And she has the nerve to say she left a note? With a pigsty like her room, if she could actually find a piece of paper flat enough to write on, that would mean she’d cleaned up.’

Luo Qianning had only taken a few steps into the complex when several dark figures spilled out of the corner ahead.

They stumbled along as they ran, as if something was chasing them, cursing loudly as they went.

The one in front, a yellow-haired man, charged with his head down, about to crash right into her.

Luo Qianning frowned. She didn’t dodge.

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