Visa On Arrival Chapter 9
byMissing
The plane landed.
Dusk fell.
Qi Ranyue rested one hand on the steering wheel while the other adjusted the air conditioning vent.
“I have something to do later, so I won’t take you back to my apartment. I’ll drop you home first so you can rest,” she said, her gaze sweeping over Chen Rong in the passenger seat.
The city lights flowed past the car window, flickering across her face.
Qi Ranyue paused, her fingers tapping twice on the steering wheel. “I need to go to the hospital later to pick something up.”
The phone vibrated on the edge of the lab bench, the screen lighting up. Startled by the sound, Chen Rong’s hand holding the pipette faltered.
The words “Yueyue’s Mom” flashed on the caller ID. She stared at the contact name for two seconds.
She gently set down the pipette, removed the rubber glove from her left hand, picked up the phone, and pressed it to her ear. “Hello, Auntie, what’s wrong?”
The voice on the other end was hurried, tinged with a nervous, probing quality. “Xiao Rong, are you back from your trip? That girl Yueyue… she’s grown up now, not answering calls or replying to messages. I’m worried sick! Tell her to pick up my calls. She’s really gone wild with play!”
“Auntie, we came back the day before yesterday. She’s not with me; she probably went back to her apartment to sleep. Maybe she’ll pick up when she wakes up.” Chen Rong soothed her while removing the right rubber glove.
“Auntie, don’t worry,” she promised softly. “I’ll head over to her apartment to check in a bit.”
Silence suddenly fell on the other end.
“Auntie?”
“Xiao Rong, don’t think I’m being naggy, but my eyelid has been twitching these past two days. I have a feeling something bad is going to happen.” Qi Ranyue’s mother’s voice dropped, sounding tearful and less frantic than before. “I just feel uneasy.”
After the call ended.
Chen Rong opened a tracking software.
The small dot on the screen sat quietly at the location of Qi Ranyue’s apartment on the map.
Chen Rong sent her a few messages, telling her to call her mother back.
She put the phone back in her pocket and continued her experiment.
Adding samples, centrifuging, recording data—every movement was as precise as usual.
Only every few minutes, she would subconsciously glance at the phone on the lab bench.
At 1:30 AM, she finally finished the last sample.
her car moved through the night as city lights flowed past the window.
While waiting at a red light, she realized Qi Ranyue had not replied to her messages.
She gripped the steering wheel, frowning.
Standing before the apartment door.
Thinking that Qi Ranyue wouldn’t be asleep yet at this hour, she knocked.
No response.
She knocked again.
Still nothing.
She didn’t knock a third time and entered the passcode directly.
The sound of the lock turning was exceptionally clear in the quiet night.
The door opened.
When the lights flickered on, she was met with a floor covered in chaos.
Throw pillows were tossed on the floor; glass shards were everywhere; a large, dark red wine stain marred the wall. Every drawer had been pulled open, their contents ransacked. The photo felt-board on the wall had been torn down. The projector screen had two large gashes. Hardcover books from the shelves were ripped apart, their pages shredded into a thick layer on the floor, some stained with dried red wine…
Seeing this scene, she froze in place.
This didn’t look like a burglary; it looked like an act of venting.
Her heart clenched painfully.
From childhood until now, even if Qi Ranyue needed to vent, she would never go to this extreme.
She looked around but saw no sign of her.
Her heart began to race—thump, thump, thump—pounding against her chest.
She rushed to the bedroom and pushed the door open.
Qi Ranyue was not in her apartment.
The duvet was crumpled in a heap at the foot of the bed, the pillow was on the floor, the wardrobe doors were wide open with clothes strewn everywhere, and the curtains were half-torn down…
She wasn’t here. Where could she be!
Chen Rong’s chest heaved.
Her heart was beating so fast it actually hurt.
She leaned against the bedroom doorframe, her eyes frantically scanning the room over and over.
But the GPS clearly showed her here.
She pulled out her phone, her fingers trembling. The location on the software was still active, right here. It hadn’t changed.
She looked up and scanned the room again, spotting the bracelet she had personally put on Qi Ranyue’s wrist the day before yesterday lying on the nightstand.
Her brow furrowed immediately.
Had she found out?
She picked up the bracelet, looked at it deeply, and put it in her own pocket.
Exiting the tracking app, she opened the dialer and pressed the familiar number.
Ring… ring… ring…
Each ring was drawn out, sounding exceptionally clear in the silent room.
No answer. It disconnected automatically.
She dialed again.
Ring… ring… ring…
Still no answer.
She began to call incessantly.
Once, twice, three times… the earpiece only returned that monotonous ringing, one after another, like something thumping against her temple.
The seventh time.
The tenth time.
The twelfth time.
Her fingers began to shake, her breathing becoming rapid.
The eighteenth time.
A cold automated voice came from the other end: “The number you have dialed is powered off.”
She looked down at the phone screen, her fingertips swiping a few times to dial the parents’ number.
The moment the call connected, her voice was so hoarse she could barely speak: “Auntie, Yueyue… she’s gone…”
Behind several old camphor trees lay a two-story house with immense style.
This was a two-story mountainside villa hotel hidden within the city.
The first floor was a shimmering reception hall where a private butler waited with a smile. Upstairs, there were only a few suites and an exclusive lounge.
Amber lights bathed a wall of stored wine. Everything from top-tier estates to rare vintages was available, each bottle waiting for its owner. There was no wine list here; the sommelier explored the guests’ palates through one-on-one conversation to find that unique memory for their taste buds.
The sommelier approached with a service cart holding a bottle of Dom Pérignon that had been chilled for three hours and four champagne flutes. The words Dom Pérignon on the black bottle shimmered darkly in the warm light.
“The 2008 vintage,” the sommelier said softly, placing a glass before Qi Ranyue.
She tapped her finger against the stem of the glass.
The sommelier stripped the foil from the neck, pressed his thumb against the cork, loosened the wire cage with six twists, and after the hiss subsided, tilted the bottle to pour.
She lifted the glass, observed the bubbles, and brought it to her lips.
The bubbles burst gently on the tip of her tongue—a bit tart, a bit dry, with a faint, lingering sweetness.
Qi Ranyue propped her head up with her left hand, her index finger tapping rhythmically.
After a long while.
“Yamazaki 18 Years,” the sommelier announced softly.
Qi Ranyue’s gaze moved past the glass in her hand to the bottle on the cart.
A dark glass bottle with a low-key label, like a piece of silent amber.
“Open it all,” Qi Ranyue said.
The sommelier was slightly taken aback but quickly regained his professional smile. “Certainly, ma’am. This is the Suntory Yamazaki 18 Years Mizunara Cask Reserve.”
Qi Ranyue looked down and didn’t speak, merely nodding.
The sommelier bowed slightly, wiped the bottle with a clean cloth, cut the shrink wrap at the mouth, and slowly twisted the cork upward. With a pop, he poured a finger’s width of liquor into a tulip glass on the table for Qi Ranyue to smell.
“Wait,” Qi Ranyue said flatly. “Send it to my room.”
The sommelier paused and replaced the cork. “Understood. I will have it sent up shortly.”
In a corner at the other end of the lounge, someone sat quietly.
The drink in front of him was almost untouched; the ice had long since melted, diluting the liquid.
His gaze crossed the entire lounge, landing on her.
Three days.
From the first day she stepped into this hotel, he had already noticed her.