Missing

Lin Wan’er blinked, then lowered her head to sip her tea, her tone tinged with a deliberate melancholy. “It’s nothing much, I just wanted to be friends with you.” She paused, lowering her gaze further, her voice growing softer. “I just moved to this city. I don’t have a single friend here, no one to talk to… you’re the only person I know.”

Yun Xian pinched the bridge of her nose in helplessness and said quietly, “Alright, we’re friends now. Hurry up and eat, then go home early.”

Just as she finished speaking, the dishes were brought to the table one by one. Lin Wan’er picked up a piece and tasted it, a flicker of surprise crossing her eyes. “Hey, I didn’t expect the food here to be so good!” She then beckoned Yun Xian, “Why aren’t you eating? Try some before it gets cold.”

Yun Xian hesitated briefly, then picked up her chopsticks and began eating. Seeing her start, Lin Wan’er didn’t say anything further.

After they finished eating, Lin Wan’er was about to get up and pay the bill, but noticed Yun Xian, who had just returned from the restroom, already standing at the counter. She told the owner, “Deduct this meal from my salary.”

Lin Wan’er was taken aback and hurried over. “Why are you doing that? Let me pay for this meal!”

Yun Xian glanced at her and said calmly, “No need. Just go home quickly.” With that, she turned and headed toward the door.

“But…” Lin Wan’er wanted to say more, but seeing Yun Xian had no intention of looking back, she swallowed her words.

Standing at the restaurant’s entrance, Lin Wan’er hesitated before pulling out her phone to call a ride. Before getting in, she glanced back at Yun Xian, seeming to want to say something but ultimately just waved her hand. “See you tomorrow?”

Yun Xian nodded and watched her get into the car before mounting her bike and riding toward her rented room.

Back at the apartment, she opened the door and was greeted by the familiar cold stillness. She placed her backpack on the table, took off her coat, and switched on the desk lamp. The dim yellow light cast a quiet glow over the small room.

Yun Xian sat down at the desk, took out a book on literary theory from her bag, flipped to the marked page, and began to read. Her pen glided lightly over the paper, her expression calm and focused. The room was silent except for the soft rustling of pages.

From that day on, Yun Xian found that no matter where she went, she would always run into Lin Wan’er.

Every class, no matter how early Yun Xian arrived, Lin Wan’er would appear right beside her with a bright smile. “Yun Xian, you’re here so early!”

During breaks, whether Yun Xian was heading to the restroom or stepping into the corridor for fresh air, she would always hear quick footsteps behind her. “Going to the bathroom? Wait for me!”

At noon in the cafeteria, the moment Yun Xian sat down with her tray, Lin Wan’er would cheerfully come over. “Ah, finally found you!”

Even at the small restaurant where Yun Xian worked part-time, Lin Wan’er became a regular. She would quietly eat in a corner, resting her chin on her hand as she watched Yun Xian work. “I’ll wait for you to finish, then we’ll go home together.”

Even at the library’s study desk at night, just when Yun Xian thought she could finally enjoy some solitude, Lin Wan’er would still appear across from her with a cheerful smile. “What book are you reading?”

At first, Yun Xian found Lin Wan’er’s clingy behavior rather helpless, even a little irritating. But over time, she realized she was growing used to it. Though she never actively returned Lin Wan’er’s enthusiasm, she no longer deliberately avoided her.

One day, as Yun Xian left the classroom, Lin Wan’er was still trailing behind, chatting nonstop. Yun Xian nodded occasionally in response, and they walked toward the stairs together.

Suddenly, a figure darted out from behind a pillar, blocking their path.

It was a small-framed boy, his features so ordinary as to be forgettable. His pale complexion looked unhealthy, beads of sweat glistened on his nose, and his bloodshot eyes flickered with a restless, gloomy light.

His hands clutched a white envelope tightly, his cracked lips trembling as if to speak but no sound came.

“Who are you?” Lin Wan’er frowned, her tone edged with impatience at the unexpected stranger.

The boy did not answer; he stared fixedly at Lin Wan’er and handed her the envelope.

Lin Wan’er froze for a moment. “What are you doing?”

Still silent, the boy forcefully pressed the envelope into her hand, then turned and fled down the stairs, his retreating figure awkward and desperate.

“That guy must be crazy,” Lin Wan’er muttered under her breath, about to toss the envelope into the nearby trash bin.

“Wait.” Yun Xian reached out and stopped her, her brows slightly furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” Lin Wan’er paused, looking at her in confusion.

“Better take a look before throwing it away.” Yun Xian’s voice was calm but carried a hint of caution.

Lin Wan’er shrugged indifferently. “Fine, if you say so.” She casually stuffed the envelope into her pocket.

The two parted ways downstairs, Lin Wan’er waving cheerfully. “See you tomorrow.”

Yun Xian waved back, hesitated briefly, and warned, “Be careful on your way.” Then she mounted her bike and rode home.

The next day, Yun Xian arrived early at the classroom, ready for class, but the seat beside her remained empty. Scanning the room, she saw almost everyone present except for Lin Wan’er. “Is she sick?” she murmured softly.

Throughout the entire day—cafeteria, library, even the small restaurant where Yun Xian worked—Lin Wan’er was nowhere to be seen.

Hesitant, Yun Xian sent Lin Wan’er a message but received no reply. A vague unease began to rise in her heart.

After class at dusk, as Yun Xian rode past a thicket, she caught sight of a familiar envelope lying among the bushes. She stopped, bent down, and picked it up—it was the very envelope the strange boy had given Lin Wan’er the day before.

The edges were stained with dirt and slightly creased. Yun Xian opened it carefully. The yellowed paper emitted a faint, sickly smell. The page was densely covered in glaring red letters—not ink, but something else entirely.

“I love you. I want you to belong to me. You are my only one…”

The hysterical words were laced with a sickening possessiveness and threat: “If you refuse me, I will make you regret living in this world...”

Yun Xian’s heart sank sharply. She gripped the paper tightly, her fingers trembling slightly, the image of the pale, small boy from yesterday haunting her mind.

She quickly folded the letter and pedaled straight to the nearest police station.

At the station, Yun Xian handed over the letter and recounted the entire incident. The officer glanced at the letter and frowned.

“The content of this letter is indeed abnormal,” the officer said quietly, “but you mentioned the girl is missing? Do you have any other clues or evidence?”

“She was at school yesterday, but hasn’t appeared all day today,” Yun Xian said urgently.

The officer sighed. “That alone doesn’t prove she’s missing. She might have just skipped today or has other matters to attend to. Have you contacted her family? A missing person case requires a report from family members.”

Yun Xian was momentarily speechless. She suddenly realized that although she had been practically inseparable from Lin Wan’er every day, she knew nothing about her family background, her address, or even the most basic information.

Seeing this, the officer’s tone softened. “We’ll keep an eye on this. If you find any more clues, come to us immediately.”

Yun Xian nodded, clutching the letter as she left the station. A complex mix of emotions swirled within her. A gust of evening wind brushed past, and she looked up at the dim sky, her unease growing ever stronger.