A Friend I've Loved for a Long Time - Chapter 2

Contrary to what Yun Zhi had imagined, the woman wasn’t that unapproachable. At the very least, in the moment she answered, Yun Zhi caught a glimpse of a warm, gentle smile.

Having received a response, Yun Zhi lightly shook the camera in her hand and explained the situation honestly:

“I accidentally took a photo of you just now. Because it was so beautiful, I wanted to save it, but I wanted to ask if you’d mind.”

After speaking, Yun Zhi bit her lip, realizing her words were a bit too blunt. The only saving grace was her soft, polite tone.

Just as Yun Zhi was thinking of how to salvage the conversation, she heard three words: “I don’t mind.”

Yun Zhi looked up and met the woman’s eyes, which were filled with a gentle amusement. Though she had traveled to many places and met many people over the years, she didn’t like wasting time on social niceties. Being stared at by this woman made her feel momentarily flustered.

“May I see the photo?”

Before Yun Zhi could respond to the previous sentence, the woman spoke again.

Yun Zhi naturally had no reason to refuse. She glanced at the distance between them and said, “One moment.”

She stood up from her spot on the bench, grabbed her umbrella, and walked over to sit beside her.

The rain was still falling, growing heavier by the minute. The portrait on the bus stop’s faded advertisement was blurred beyond recognition. Rainwater drifted into the shelter, wetting the ground in front of the bench.

Yun Zhi sat down next to her, clutching her camera. As she set her umbrella down, she caught a whiff of a delicate fragrance—something like roses steeped in cold bamboo, smelling even more crisp and ethereal in the wind.

“Can I see?” The woman tilted her head with a smile as if noticing Yun Zhi’s daze.

Yun Zhi pulled herself together, returned the smile, and opened the camera gallery to show her the shots.

The woman didn’t take the camera immediately. Instead, she reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her left ear before leaning in closer to look at the screen.

Yun Zhi had intentionally left a few centimeters of space between them, worried that the stranger might dislike being too close, but she hadn’t expected the woman to proactively lean in.

“It’s beautiful.”

The compliment brought Yun Zhi back to the present. She smiled and scrolled down to show more, explaining, “The photos of the rain and mist I took earlier had very dark tones. When you appeared, it felt like the whole frame lit up.”

She even scrolled back to show the photos taken before the woman arrived. The contrast was stark.

When she reached the end of the gallery, Yun Zhi looked up to tell her that was all. Unexpectedly, she bumped right into the woman’s gaze.

For a few seconds, a strange feeling flickered in Yun Zhi’s heart. It felt as though, rather than looking at the camera, the woman had been looking at her.

Just as her confusion mounted, the woman brushed her hair again and reached out to take the camera from her hand.

Following her movement, Yun Zhi noticed the woman’s earlobes were slightly red. Their fingertips brushed inadvertently during the hand-off; the woman’s skin was icy. Yun Zhi wondered if her ears were flushed and her fingers were freezing because of the drop in temperature from the rain.

Only then did Yun Zhi notice that even though the woman held the camera with her left hand, her right hand still cradled the blue roses, never setting them down.

“What is it?”

Perhaps sensing Yun Zhi’s silence, the woman asked softly.

Yun Zhi shook her head and smiled. “The blue roses are beautiful.”

“Are they?” The woman chuckled, her gaze shifting from the camera screen to the bouquet. “Then, they’re yours.”

“Huh?”

Suddenly having a bunch of “Broken Ice Blue” roses thrust into her arms, Yun Zhi was stunned. Especially now, with the woman’s eyes crinkled in a smile, the icy aura she’d had at first sight was completely gone.

Perhaps this is what they call a ‘gap’ personality, Yun Zhi thought. She looked cold and elegant with a powerful presence, yet her personality was gentle and easy to talk to.

“This… isn’t right, is it?”

She had clearly seen how much the woman cherished these flowers. Why give them away just because of a casual remark? Yun Zhi tried to push the flowers back.

She did like flowers—blue roses were her favorite, actually—but wasn’t it a bit much to take them from someone she had just met?

“Beautiful flowers for a beautiful lady. They suit you better.”

Prompted by the woman’s remark, Yun Zhi looked down at herself. If nothing else, the blue roses did indeed match her outfit perfectly today.

“Keep them as a thank-you gift,” the woman said, pointing to the camera. “Can I have the photos?”

A thank-you gift? Logically, shouldn’t she be the one thanking the woman?

“Of course. But these are the raw files. Do you need me to edit them?” Yun Zhi added quickly, “I won’t retouch your face—I’ll just adjust the colors. You’re already very beautiful; you don’t need retouching.”

Her words seemed to hit the woman’s funny bone, making her burst into laughter.

If the woman had seemed like an aloof ice queen at first, she now felt like a gentle older sister from next door, especially with the way her eyes curved into crescents when she laughed.

“How about I add you on WeChat? I’ll send them to you later,” Yun Zhi suggested.

The woman looked down, pulled a phone from her bag, and presented her QR code.

Yun Zhi scanned it and asked casually, “How should I label your contact?”

The woman paused, her lips pressed together in silence.

Yun Zhi realized she should have introduced herself first. “My name is Yun Zhi. I’m a photographer, so don’t worry—I promise I’ll make the photos look great.”

The woman looked at her, a complex emotion flickering in her eyes. After a long silence, she said, “Surname Yu.”

Yun Zhi had already received the “added” notification and didn’t look up. It wasn’t strange for a chance encounter to remain somewhat anonymous; she guessed the woman was likely someone of status.

“Yu, like the ‘Yu’ in ‘metaphor’ (喻)?”

“Yes.”

Yun Zhi typed in the surname, thought for a moment, and added “Miss Yu.”

“Well, Miss Yu, I’ll send the edited photos to you in a couple of days.”

The woman looked down at Yun Zhi, whose sleeve was touching hers as she typed. The formal title seemed to push them apart again. Her fingertips instinctively tightened on her skirt. Suddenly, she spoke:

“Mingxia.”

“What?” It took Yun Zhi a few seconds to realize the woman was giving her full name.

She had been reluctant to share it a moment ago, yet now she volunteered it. Was it because Yun Zhi had called her “Miss Yu”? Did she dislike the formality?

“Yu… Ming… Xia,” Yun Zhi repeated, enunciating each syllable.

With every word Yun Zhi spoke, the woman—Yu Mingxia—grew a bit more tense.

A moment later, Yun Zhi added, “That’s a very lovely name.”

Yu Mingxia’s grip on her skirt slowly loosened. For a moment, she didn’t know whether to feel lucky or sad.

“It’s written like this, right?” Yun Zhi asked, showing her the screen with the updated contact name.

Yu Mingxia nodded slowly.

“The ‘Zhi’ in my name is the same as the ‘Zhi’ in cicada (知了). Looking at it that way, our names are quite a match: Cicadas and Midsummer.”

Yun Zhi didn’t mention that she was thinking of her exhibition theme. Having exchanged names, she felt a bit more familiar with the woman and found herself talking more.

Yu Mingxia smiled and hummed in agreement. “They are a good match.”

Yun Zhi didn’t catch any deeper meaning in the reply; she just thought the woman was being agreeable and dropped the subject.

“Why are you out here, anyway?” Yun Zhi finally realized how rare it was for people to be in this area. “Were you here for the photography exhibition?”

“I had some business,” Yu Mingxia replied, then asked, “Why are you out here so late?”

“I’m waiting for someone.”

The reminder made Yun Zhi realize that thirty minutes had already passed. Nan Qiao, who said she was “almost there” an hour ago, still hadn’t arrived.

Just as Yu Mingxia was about to say something, a sharp ringtone cut through the air. Two seconds later, Yun Zhi answered.

“Nan Qiao, where on earth are you? If you tell me to wait again, I’m going to be really mad.” Having waited so long, a hint of annoyance had crept into her voice. Her tone was full of the kind of complaining and pouting one only uses with someone they are very close to.

It was entirely different from the polite tone she used with Yu Mingxia. It was the intimacy of a long-term bond.

Yu Mingxia could feel the difference. She looked down and tightened her grip on her phone, then smoothed her skirt as if nothing were wrong.

A beam of light suddenly pierced the darkness. A car was coming.

Yu Mingxia looked up at the approaching headlights. Beside her, Yun Zhi had already stood up. She caught one last glimpse of the blue roses cradled in Yun Zhi’s arms.

Yun Zhi was listening to her phone, her eyes fixed on the car. She didn’t notice Yu Mingxia looking at her.

After a long pause…

“Happy Birthday.”

Through the sound of the wind and the rain, Yun Zhi vaguely heard the words.

The blessing was so faint it was almost inaudible—distant and surreal.

Snapping back to reality, Yun Zhi turned toward Yu Mingxia’s spot, only to find the bench empty.

Yun Zhi slowly lowered her phone. She walked forward a few steps before spotting Yu Mingxia’s figure. A black umbrella shielded her upper body; she walked with a light, graceful step, the hem of her rain-dampened dress swirling beautifully.

Was that Yu Mingxia speaking just now?

But by the time Yun Zhi looked up again, the figure had vanished around a corner.

“What are you looking at?” Nan Qiao stood before her with an umbrella, blocking her view and smiling.

Yun Zhi shook her head, thinking she must have misheard. How could a stranger know it was her birthday?

She came back to her senses. The sky was now pitch black. She didn’t know where Yu Mingxia was going, but it seemed dangerous for a woman to be out here alone.

“Wait, I just met someone. Let me ask if she needs a ride.”

“Who?” Nan Qiao’s smile began to fade as she pressed for an answer.

Yun Zhi sent a message to Yu Mingxia asking where she was going. The reply came almost instantly: [Already on my way home.] Yun Zhi turned off her screen and answered Nan Qiao half-jokingly, “A very beautiful woman. Hmm… she’s exactly my type.”

Nan Qiao looked aggrieved. “Dear Zhizhi, I thought I was your favorite?”

Yun Zhi couldn’t tell how much of that was a joke and how much was serious. Regardless, Nan Qiao said something like that every time Yun Zhi made a new friend. She was used to it. She neither denied nor confirmed it, simply ducking under Nan Qiao’s umbrella.

“Let’s go.”