A FRESH MESSAGE IN HER INBOX

Ni Ying had always been the kind of girl who kept her heart guarded, hidden behind layers of smiles that never quite reached her eyes. She wasn’t one to share her deepest feelings with anyone, not even her closest friends—if she could call them that. She didn’t make friendships for her own sake. It wasn’t in her nature to be selfish. Instead, she forged bonds with pure intentions, hoping to bring some happiness to the lives of those around her, even when they didn’t reciprocate the same kindness.

But time changes everyone. Over the years, Ni Ying became a different person, someone who struggled to trust, someone who had learned to keep her emotions locked away. Her transformation hadn’t been by choice; it had been forced upon her by life’s harsh lessons. The betrayal, insults, and heartbreak she had endured from her first love had shaped her into someone she barely recognized. He had once been the most important person in her life, someone she had trusted without question. Yet, despite the pain he had caused her, despite the way he had broken her spirit, she hadn’t been able to let go. No one else had ever taken his place in her heart, no matter how much she wished they could.

Yet, little did she know, that one ordinary morning would bring something unexpected into her life. Something she hadn’t been looking for but would change her world nonetheless.

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NI YING'S POV :

It was a quiet Sunday morning, and I was finally able to indulge in the one thing that brought me peace—painting. Sundays were my escape, my chance to shut out the world and just be with myself. I had set everything up: my paints were lined up, brushes cleaned and ready, and my canvas stood waiting for the colors that would soon cover it. This was my routine, the one thing I could count on when everything else in my life felt uncertain.

Just as I dipped my brush into the paint, my phone buzzed on the table. Normally, I wouldn’t have paid it any mind. But for some reason, today felt different. I picked up my phone, almost out of habit, and there it was—a message from a name I didn’t recognize.

"Hey."

It was such a simple greeting, but it caught me off guard. I don’t know why, but I felt a strange urge to respond. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was the fact that, despite how much I tried to push people away, a part of me still longed for connection. I typed back a quick, “Hi,” and put my phone down, trying to shake off whatever strange feeling had settled in my chest.

I turned back to my canvas, but it was no use. My thoughts kept drifting back to the message, wondering who this person was and why they had decided to reach out to me. A few minutes passed before my phone buzzed again.

“Ssup?”

A small smile tugged at my lips. It was such a casual, friendly response, and for some reason, it felt nice. I’d spent so long building walls around myself, convincing myself that I didn’t need anyone, that it was strange to feel this tiny spark of warmth from someone I didn’t even know.

I found myself responding again, and before I realized it, we were having a full conversation. We talked about the little things—what we liked, how we spent our days, our favorite music. It felt easy, natural, like I was talking to someone I’d known for years. But no matter how much I tried to relax, I couldn’t completely let my guard down.

I kept reminding myself of the promises I had made to myself after everything that had happened with my first love. He had shattered me in ways I never thought possible, and since then, I’d sworn that I would never let anyone else in. The pain he’d caused was a constant reminder of why I needed to be careful, why I couldn’t let myself be vulnerable again.

But as I chatted with this stranger, I felt something I hadn’t felt in a long time—hope. It scared me. It was as if a tiny crack was forming in the walls I had spent so long building around my heart. I didn’t want to admit it, but part of me liked talking to him. Part of me wanted to keep the conversation going, to see where it might lead.

But I knew better than to let myself get carried away. I couldn’t let anyone else take the place of the person I’d lost. I wasn’t ready to let go of that part of my heart, no matter how much I wished I could. So, I kept my responses light, casual, and made sure not to share too much. I couldn’t afford to make the same mistakes again.

As the conversation went on, I glanced over at my canvas. It was still blank, untouched. It was funny, in a way. I had sat down that morning with every intention of painting something beautiful, but instead, I ended up painting words with a stranger.

And yet, even as I sat there, talking to him, I knew that the most important part of me was still locked away, hidden behind the walls I’d built. I wasn’t sure if I would ever be ready to tear them down. But maybe, just maybe, this conversation was the first step toward finding out.

For now, I would keep my heart guarded. I would keep my distance. But deep down, a tiny spark of hope flickered, and I couldn’t help but wonder—could this be the beginning of something new?

To be continued

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