Chapter 088: The Two Flee Together

Peng Min wept uncontrollably in Li Jia's arms, her cries echoing through every corner of the room.

Li Jia murmured words of comfort, holding her tightly, as if only by doing so could she offer the wounded woman in her embrace some measure of warmth.

Perhaps it was the grief of the woman she held, or perhaps it was the stirring of her own memories, but Li Jia's eyes reddened as well. She had thought that, after all she had endured, she would never shed tears again.

Yet when love runs deep, tears cannot be held back.

Li Jia let her tears fall in silence, making no sound and stifling her sobs, afraid that if she joined in, the woman in her arms would be unable to stop crying.

After more than ten minutes, the two still clung to each other, but the room had grown quiet, the wrenching sobs subsiding into the faintest whimpers.

By now, Peng Min’s makeup was a ruin of streaks and smudges, her face a testament to her grief. Li Jia, having worn only the lightest touch of makeup that morning, was marked by two faint trails of tears.

“Sister Li Jia, I’m so sorry, I’ve soaked your clothes,” Peng Min murmured, her voice apologetic as she pulled herself slowly from Li Jia’s embrace, noticing that most of Li Jia’s blouse was wet with her tears.

Though her makeup was ruined and her spirits still low, there was a newfound relaxation in her expression, a clear sign that her outpouring of grief had finally eased the torment she’d been holding inside.

Tears are the purest means of release; the most terrifying pain, or even the greatest joy, is that which cannot find relief in weeping.

“It’s good to let it out. Look at you, you’re a little tabby cat now. Come, let me fix your makeup,” Li Jia said, entirely unconcerned about her own wet shirt. What mattered most to her was Peng Min’s state of mind. Seeing her friend so much improved, she finally relaxed, and, noticing the mess the tears had made of Peng Min’s face, she made her suggestion.

Sitting opposite Li Jia on the bed, Peng Min shook her head at the offer, saying she didn’t want her makeup redone just yet. Instead, she wanted to hear about Li Jia’s life and her stories.

Li Jia couldn’t bear to refuse this woman who had always treated her so kindly, and so she began to tell her story.

She hid nothing, recounting everything from her primary school days, to middle and high school, her preparations for the college entrance exam, her admission to her dream university, her choice to study history, and finally, the details of her meeting with Huang Yu.

Perhaps her years of study had been too monotonous, or perhaps Peng Min herself had little interest in academics, for Li Jia found herself skimming over her school days. But when she began to speak of her university life, Peng Min’s interest was piqued, and she listened with rapt attention, frequently probing for details.

It seemed Peng Min had never attended university herself, and so she was fascinated, longing for a taste of that world.

Li Jia, seeing her friend’s curiosity, described university life in vivid detail, not only sharing her own experiences, but also recounting amusing stories she’d heard from classmates.

The antics and amusements of university life were deeply appealing to Peng Min, but whenever Li Jia happened to mention Huang Yu, all her interest shifted at once to this man.

After all, no matter how entertaining the tales of university, they could not compete with the allure of a love story.

Peng Min was like a cat catching the scent of fish, a gossip reporter stumbling upon a scoop, and she peppered Li Jia with questions.

Li Jia found her friend’s enthusiasm amusing, but answered every inquiry without reservation.

“Sister Li Jia, is Huang Yu really as wonderful as you say?” Peng Min finally asked, her voice tinged with disbelief.

In Li Jia’s telling, Huang Yu was not only handsome, but multi-talented, academically gifted, and most importantly, absolutely devoted in matters of the heart.

To Peng Min, such a man seemed the exclusive province of television dramas or romance novels.

A part of her was deeply curious about Huang Yu, but another part could not believe it, suspecting that Li Jia’s vision was colored by love.

Every time Li Jia spoke of Huang Yu, after all, a faint smile would touch her lips.

Yet as she studied Li Jia, Peng Min thought to herself that only such a man could be worthy of her—a woman as ethereal and otherworldly as a fairy.

“Alas, even fairies cannot escape the filth and corruption of the mortal world,” she thought.

After this heart-to-heart conversation, the two women felt a new closeness, their confidences forging a true friendship, a sisterhood.

Li Jia even shared her plan to escape, holding nothing back.

She feared that if she disappeared suddenly and Peng Min knew nothing, she would be caught off guard and implicated.

Peng Min, learning that Li Jia intended to flee that very night, was not surprised. What astonished her was that Li Jia would trust her enough to reveal everything.

Moved and grateful, Peng Min’s own desire to escape was rekindled.

She hated this place as much as Li Jia did.

Before, she had been alone, her addiction holding her captive, and she had witnessed firsthand the grisly fate of another woman who once tried to escape. Her own thoughts of fleeing had been snuffed out before they ever became a plan.

But now, because of Li Jia, she dared to dream again of freedom.

She hadn’t spoken to her family in over two years. She missed home, longed to see her loved ones, to set eyes once more upon the place that had given her life—then she could die without regret.

After Li Jia told her of the plan, Peng Min shared all her feelings and asked to escape with her.

Li Jia was at first surprised, but after listening to Peng Min’s reasons, she understood. Of course, she welcomed Peng Min’s company—two people together would have a much better chance of success.

They discussed their plan, and then settled in to wait for nightfall.

Night came.

By day, this place was quiet; by night, it bustled with noise.

Taking advantage of the crowded, chaotic scene in the nightclub, Li Jia and Peng Min slipped away unnoticed to a remote corner seldom visited.

Before them was a square opening, not even a meter wide, covered by a steel plate. Even so, a foul and acrid stench seeped from behind the cover.

Li Jia had chosen to escape through the garbage chute.

Earlier in the day, she had observed from afar that this area was deserted. After asking around, she learned that all the club’s trash was sent here.

Using a random excuse, she managed to inspect the place herself and discovered the chute.

Together, they removed the steel plate, and a wave of nauseating stench surged from the black hole.

Both women instinctively clamped hands over their noses.

But this did little good; the reek was still overpowering.

“Sister Li Jia, do we really have to crawl out through here?” Peng Min asked uncertainly, pinching her nose with one hand and holding a flashlight with the other to illuminate the opening.

The chute sloped diagonally downward, not straight down, and was littered with filth that reeked and disgusted her.

Peng Min dreaded the thought of crawling through such a vile tunnel.

“If we go this way, we’ll come out directly outside the club. No one would ever suspect anyone would escape through here,” Li Jia nodded.

She, too, pinched her nose, deeply averse to the stench. In the past, she would never have gone near such filth, but everything she had endured these past days had taught her to endure much worse.

Peng Min edged closer, the stench growing so intense she nearly vomited, and she quickly retreated.

“Min, when we go in, cover your nose and mouth with this wet towel. It should help,” said Li Jia, producing a fragrant, wet towel from her backpack.

Peng Min was delighted by the scent and quickly pressed the towel to her face.

Li Jia did the same with another towel, and without hesitation, slid feet-first into the chute, using the slope to ease her descent until she disappeared into the darkness.

Peng Min hesitated only a moment before following, replacing the steel plate behind her as she went.

In a narrow, dark alley east of the Grand Han Palace Nightclub, two figures slowly emerged from the shadows—Li Jia and Peng Min.

They reached the mouth of the alley but did not step out into the bright street.

“Sister Li Jia, we really made it out!” Peng Min exclaimed, eyes shining with joy as she gazed at the brightly lit nightclub entrance in the distance.

Her clothes were covered in filth, her hair matted and reeking, and Li Jia was in even worse shape—had it not been for their intact clothing, they would have looked like vagrants.

After all, Li Jia had led the way, clearing most of the obstacles herself.

“Yes, we’ve finally escaped,” Li Jia replied, eyes fixed on the nightclub door as if committing it to memory, not turning as she spoke.

“Sister Li Jia, where do we go now?” Peng Min asked, picking bits of filth off her clothes as she spoke.