The morning sun rose over the city like a golden lie—soft and radiant, yet painfully indifferent.
Song Mei stood silently by the school gates, suitcase by her side, dressed in a fitted cream hoodie and dark jeans that sharpened her elegance into something cold. Her expression was unreadable, her lips a calm line, her eyes two blades hidden behind a veil of indifference.
Around her, students buzzed with excitement, dragging luggage and shouting over each other. Laughter danced on the morning breeze, but Song Mei remained still—like a quiet storm held back by a thread.
Inside her, there was no excitement. Only dread… and rage.
Because today, they were returning to the retreat site. The forested mountain camp with clean air and wildflowers—where her first fall from grace had begun.
The cliff.
The memory.
The betrayal.
"Meimei!" Chu Shaojia ran up, lugging her suitcase and wearing an oversized sunhat. "I saved us a seat on the bus! Come on before the boys take it."
Song Mei nodded but said nothing.
"Are you okay?" Shaojia asked, more gently this time.
Song Mei finally spoke. "Let's just get this over with."
Her tone was ice. Shaojia didn't ask again.
They boarded the bus, and Song Mei sat by the window. The moment the engine rumbled to life, her fingers curled into fists on her lap.
Outside, the world passed in streaks of green and gold, but her gaze remained fixed—haunted.
By noon, they reached the retreat grounds nestled between thick forests and rolling hills. A pristine lake shimmered under the sun, and wooden cabins dotted the surrounding slope.
To anyone else, it looked idyllic.
To Song Mei, it was a memory she'd buried alive.
She stepped off the bus slowly, her feet sinking into the same gravel path she remembered from before. Her vision flickered—not from the sunlight, but from the weight of her own past.
She remembered the exact place she'd stood before—where she and Song Ning had argued.
She remembered how angry she was.
How tired.
And how easily her hand had reached out and shoved.
Song Ning had fallen down the cliff.
She hadn't died. Just some scratches.
But the screams that followed, the horror in everyone's eyes—the way even the teachers looked at her afterward, like she was some sort of monster.
It had never left her.
She could still hear the whispers that chased her all the way home.
"She tried to kill her own sister."
"She's dangerous."
"She's not normal."
And then the punishment.
Her mother's sharp slap.
Her father's venomous silence.
Her brothers turning their backs.
The decision was unanimous—Send her away.
Out of sight, out of mind.
The current trip was meant to be fun. But Song Mei felt as if she were walking through the ruins of her own humiliation.
At the cabins, the teacher cheerfully read the room assignments.
"Group Four—Song Mei, Chu Shaojia, Song Ning, Lin Yiyi, and Qiao Ying!"
The crowd reacted subtly. Some gasped. Some nudged each other.
Putting Song Mei and Song Ning in the same room? Was that even safe?
Each cabin glowed dimly with yellow lights as students settled in, dragging suitcases, adjusting bunk beds, and admiring the picturesque view of the forested valley below. But within one of the cabins, tension was thick and suffocating.
As they entered, Song Mei saw Song Ning already unpacking on a lower bunk. The youngest Song girl smiled up at her.
Song Mei stood at the window of her assigned cabin, her arms folded as she gazed coldly at the horizon. She had hoped to be alone—but fate, ever cruel, had other plans.
Behind her, a soft voice broke the silence.
"Meimei... I'm really happy we were assigned to the same cabin just like old times. It's like fate wants us to become close again." she said, her voice soft and childlike.
Song Mei didn't turn around. Her jaw clenched. That naive, sweet voice—it grated against her bones.
Song Ning.
She turned slowly, her expression unreadable. Song Mei stared at her. Song Ning sat on the edge of her bed, hands folded in her lap, eyes glowing with innocence.
The innocence in Song Ning's voice. The way she looked up at her with zero caution. As if nothing had ever happened.
As if she didn't even remember.
"You're happy?" Song Mei asked, her voice deceptively calm.
Song Ning nodded enthusiastically. "Mm-hmm! We used to be so close when we were little. I know things have been tense, but maybe this trip is a chance for us to understand each other better. I really—"
"Stop," Song Mei interrupted, her tone suddenly sharp.
Song Ning blinked, startled. "Meimei…?"
"Stop pretending we're sisters," Song Mei snapped, her voice rising like a tidal wave. "Do you still not understand? My head might've been filled with delusions once, but I've woken up. You and I—" she pointed between them with a flick of her fingers, "—we will never be sisters again."
A pin-drop silence followed. Song Ning's lips parted slightly, the words caught in her throat. Her brows furrowed, confusion swimming in her eyes.
"But… why? What did I do wrong?" she asked, hurt lacing her voice.
Song Mei scoffed. "That's the problem—you don't even know. You don't see. Your head is filled with clouds, Song Ning. You're too pampered to understand how the world works. You don't need to do anything for people to love you—they just do. Me? I had to beg. And when I stopped begging, they threw me away."
Song Ning stood, hesitantly approaching. "Meimei, if I did something wrong, tell me. I'll fix it—"
"Don't call me that!" Song Mei snarled. "That name died with the girl who used to look at you and wish she could be like you. The girl who thought you were her world."
"I hate you, Song Ning," Song Mei said bluntly.
Song Ning's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, clearly caught off guard. "But… I didn't do anything…"
"Exactly," Song Mei snapped. "You never did anything. That's your crime."
The cabin fell into an awkward silence around them, but Song Mei turned away and started to arrange her bed, pretending the conversation never happened.
Shaojia glanced nervously between them.
Song Ning took a step back, tears forming at the corners of her eyes, but Song Mei turned away before she could say another word.
Later that evening, a campfire roared in the center of the open field.
Students sang songs and told ghost stories. Someone passed around roasted marshmallows.
Song Mei sat at the edge of the firelight, detached, her long legs crossed, arms folded over her knees. Her presence radiated an invisible barrier that no one dared cross.
But they still talked. Oh, they talked.
"I heard she beat up five boys with her bare hands."
"Even the teachers were too afraid to expel her."
"Why did Hao Ran protect her? What's going on between them?"
"Do you think he likes her now?"
"Hah! No way. He only cares about Song Ning."
Song Mei sipped from her thermos and pretended not to hear.
But inside, she heard every word—every judgment passed with cowardice and envy.
Across the fire, Hao Ran leaned back on a log, eyes fixed on her. He said nothing, but the smug tilt of his head was enough to make her clench her jaw.
Still watching.
Still amused.
She hated the way he looked at her—like she was a puzzle he couldn't wait to break apart.
After dinner, the teachers gathered everyone around a massive bonfire near the lake. The fire crackled and glowed, casting golden light across young faces full of joy and wonder. Music played in the background as students danced and laughed.
Then someone shouted, "Let's play Truth or Dare!"
The circle formed quickly, and Song Mei, though reluctant, was eventually pulled into the game. She sat with her arms crossed, expression unreadable as the bottle spun and questions flew.
"Who's your crush?"
"Have you ever cheated in a test?"
One by one, dares were acted out, truths revealed—embarrassing crushes, silly dances, harmless fun.
Then, a classmate spun the bottle again. It landed on Song Mei.
The girl across from her grinned nervously. "Truth or dare, Song Mei?"
"Truth," she replied flatly.
"Um…" The girl hesitated, then asked timidly, "If you had to name one person—or people—you hate the most in this life… who would it be?"
The group hushed, all eyes on her. A few students shifted uncomfortably. All eyes turned toward Song Mei.
She didn't blink.
Song Mei's gaze was steady as she looked around the circle. Then, she answered, her voice unwavering:
"My so-called family. And my perfect, innocent sister, Song Ning."
A hush fell over the group. Someone laughed nervously, thinking she might be joking—but one look at Song Mei's face said otherwise.
Song Ning, seated just two places away, stiffened, her face pale in the firelight. A few students whispered, casting glances between the two girls.
Song Ning frozen, eyes wide with disbelief. said "Meimei…"
Song Mei didn't look at her.
"I was never loved in that house. I was a blemish they were too ashamed to admit existed. So if you want truth, there it is: I hate them. And I don't care if the world knows it."
There was a long silence, broken only by the soft crackle of the fire.
No one dared to speak.
The teacher quickly tried to move the game along, but the tension lingered in the air long after the bottle had spun again.
Song Mei leaned back on her palms, staring into the fire.
Do you remember this place, Song Ning?
She did.
Back in the cabin that night, the girls were getting ready for bed.
Song Mei stepped out onto the porch and stared up at the full moon. Her mind was no longer on the day—it was on tomorrow's schedule.
The hiking trail.
The same trail from her nightmare.
The same trail where it all fell apart.
She closed her eyes, letting the night air sting her skin. Her fingers dug into the wooden railing.
This time… I won't break.
Behind her, Song Ning's voice drifted from the room. She was humming something.
Sweet. Innocent. Oblivious.
Song Mei bit down on her lip.
She wasn't sure what hurt more—that her family had blamed her so easily… or that Song Ning had smiled through it all without realizing the damage she left behind.