Ling Buyi had insisted on taking a taxi home, much to Xu Jing's protest. She appreciated his concern, but something had shifted within her—something fierce and unyielding. The time for running was over. As she sat in the backseat of the taxi, her mind raced, filled with thoughts of reclaiming the life she had allowed to spiral out of her control. She didn't need anyone's help, not even Xu Jing's. This was her fight.
The taxi pulled up in front of the house, and she paid the driver before stepping out onto the pavement. Taking a deep breath, Ling Buyi braced herself for whatever lay ahead. She opened the front door and was immediately hit with a wave of disgust. The house smelled terrible—like days-old food and neglect. Her eyes widened at the sight in front of her. The living room was a mess, dishes and clothes were strewn across the floor, and the kitchen was worse—a pile of dirty plates stacked high, with bits of rotten food left in the sink.
