A Friend I've Loved for a Long Time - Chapter 21

On the way out of the mall, Yu Mingxia wanted to ask the reason several times, but every time she looked over, she was met with Yun Zhi’s eyes, which were brimming with smiles. The words died in her throat.

While she didn’t know why Yun Zhi was suddenly being so intimate, Yu Mingxia was more than happy to welcome it. She listened as Yun Zhi said things like:

“You’re my model, so of course the clothes are on me.”

“We’re friends, it’s only natural to give gifts.”

“I remembered that you gave me ‘Broken Ice Blue’ roses when we first met, yet I hadn’t given you anything. What’s a few outfits? It’s only right.”

Even though her logic and acting were somewhat clumsy, Yu Mingxia didn’t call her out. She went along with it without asking for the “why.” Perhaps this was a sign of progress in their relationship.

Following Yun Zhi’s schedule, they finished shopping, had a late-night snack, and headed home. Yu Mingxia had been the driver on the way there, so she drove back as well. Based on Yun Zhi’s earlier proactive behavior, Yu Mingxia expected her to insist on driving, but Yun Zhi simply sat in the passenger seat, buckled her seatbelt, and smiled at her. “I’m not a very good driver. I’ll have to trouble you.”

On the drive back, Yun Zhi didn’t disturb her, though she occasionally stole glances at her expression. It wasn’t until they stopped at a red light that Yun Zhi spoke up: “Your sister…”

Yu Mingxia was now extremely sensitive to the word “sister.” Unable to guess Yun Zhi’s thoughts and fearing that she was being too kind-hearted—perhaps truly wanting to help mend a “sibling bond”—Yu Mingxia cut her off as soon as she heard the first three words:

“My sister is quite good to me. I don’t lack a sister.”

Yu Mingxia felt a faint sense of “shooting herself in the foot.”

However, to Yun Zhi’s ears, those words carried a different echo:

—I don’t lack a tutor.

According to Jiang Yan’an’s recount, those were the words Yun Zhi had once said.

When Yun Zhi didn’t respond for a long time, Yu Mingxia worried her tone had been too harsh. She added softly and gently, “Sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that.”

“What are you thinking? I just wanted to ask about the motivation behind your sister starting the company,” Yun Zhi replied in a small voice.

Yu Mingxia was silent for a few seconds before beginning to tell her about Yu Chuxue’s past experiences. Before she could finish, the signal light turned green.

“Stop—it’s green,” Yun Zhi laughed. “Follow the traffic rules.”

Yu Mingxia, who was just getting to the important part: “…”

She quietly and obediently shut up. Seeing her act so well-behaved, Yun Zhi let out a soft laugh.

Ten minutes later, the car arrived outside Yun Zhi’s apartment complex. Yun Zhi opened the car door, and Yu Mingxia stepped out with her. As if reading Yu Mingxia’s mind, Yun Zhi specifically warned her not to think about transferring money back to her; she wouldn’t accept it.

The July night sky was bright with stars and a clear moon, and the sounds of birds and insects filled the air. Yu Mingxia watched her walk away for a long time, not looking away until the figure had shrunk out of sight.

Yun Zhi had reminded her. Their relationship really wasn’t suited for direct money transfers; it was better suited for exchanging gifts. Thinking of this perfect solution, Yu Mingxia smiled to herself, got back into the car, and drove home.

Yun Zhi’s “mission” continued for three days. During this time, she and Yu Mingxia were practically inseparable. At first, Yu Mingxia was curious and anxious about the reason, but eventually, she stopped wanting to investigate. She loved having Yun Zhi cling to her. She even fantasized that, regardless of the reason, it would be enough if Yun Zhi just kept staying by her side.

The fantasy was shattered by a phone call from Nan Qiao.

The two were discussing work in the office when Yun Zhi’s phone rang on the desk. Being closer, Yu Mingxia looked toward the sound as soon as it rang and saw the name “Qiaoqiao” on the screen. Yun Zhi froze when she saw the name, showing a mix of surprise and a faint, hard-to-detect joy.

Yu Mingxia couldn’t tell how much joy there was, but the call and Yun Zhi’s reaction felt like a heavy blow.

“I need to take this,” Yun Zhi said, then stepped out of the office. They shared an office, but Yun Zhi had never stepped out to take a call before. This was the first time—because of Nan Qiao.

Yu Mingxia sat in her office chair, her hand unconsciously brushing against the fountain pen on her desk. The cold metal reminded her: this was the distinction. The distinction between love and friendship. What she had been clinging to was an illusion; every second she remained complacent was an opportunity for Nan Qiao and Yun Zhi. And her own chances of winning weren’t high to begin with.

After the call, Yun Zhi returned to the office and dazed for a while. When she came to, she realized Yu Mingxia hadn’t spoken since she returned. Yun Zhi looked up, about to tell Yu Mingxia she had to leave, but she bumped right into her gaze.

“Why have you suddenly been so good to me lately?” Yu Mingxia finally asked. She had noticed it—the way Yun Zhi had looked hesitant over the last two days, clearly having something on her mind but not knowing how to say it.

Yu Mingxia’s expression was calm, like someone waiting for a known result. “Say whatever you want to say. I’m listening.” She tried her best not to overthink Yun Zhi’s intentions, her voice warm and forced into a smile.

In an instant, Yun Zhi forgot what she had intended to say. After hesitating for a long time and choosing her words carefully, she looked into Yu Mingxia’s eyes and said, “I want to apologize to you for some things I said in high school.”

Hearing the words “high school,” Yu Mingxia felt her breathing stop. The sounds around her went silent, and it felt as though a black curtain had fallen over her vision, making it impossible to see Yun Zhi’s expression. Or rather, she didn’t dare to look.

“…What?” After a long time, Yu Mingxia heard her own voice. Perhaps she shouldn’t have asked.

She’d had very little contact with Yun Zhi back then. For Yun Zhi to apologize, she could only think of two things: the basketball gym, or the love letter. But the basketball gym incident was triggered by the love letter.

So, was all the kindness Yun Zhi had shown her over the last few days just another form of rejection? She had been relying on the fact that Yun Zhi didn’t remember her to be her friend without restraint, even telling her she had someone she’d loved for a long time. Was the comment about wanting to be her “sister” that day also a tactful way to distance herself?

Only when facing Yun Zhi did Yu Mingxia realize how much she was prone to overthinking. In the few seconds it took for Yun Zhi to answer, Yu Mingxia imagined a thousand possibilities, and every one of them was an ending she didn’t want to accept.

Yun Zhi hesitantly recounted what Jiang Yan’an had told her, omitting the most hurtful parts. Yu Mingxia looked down, looking as though she were waiting for a sentence to be passed. She knew clearly that Yun Zhi wouldn’t be friends with someone who liked her, let alone act ambiguously.

But after a long silence, she didn’t hear Yun Zhi mention the love letter. Yu Mingxia couldn’t guess her thoughts.

“I don’t remember much of what you’re talking about,” Yu Mingxia said in a low voice. “But I want to know—did you really hate me back then?”

“I didn’t hate you! I might not have explained clearly just now—there was a misunderstanding involved. I didn’t say it on purpose.” Yun Zhi’s voice grew smaller. Yu Mingxia’s downcast eyes made it impossible to see her expression.

I didn’t hate you.

Hearing those words, a wave of bitterness surged in Yu Mingxia’s heart, impossible to restrain. It felt as though she had been waiting for those words for a very, very long time. Sometimes in her dreams at midnight, she would hear Yun Zhi’s cold voice; perhaps her own consciousness controlled the dreams, making the dream-version of the person say she hated her over and over.

Yu Mingxia couldn’t tell if her current mood was mostly anxiety or mostly joy.

“If I asked what the misunderstanding was, would you tell me?” Yu Mingxia finally found the courage to look up.

Yun Zhi was silent for a few seconds before saying, “…Sorry.”

What is she protecting? That was Yu Mingxia’s intuition. If it was a misunderstanding, did that mean it wasn’t because of the love letter? Images flashed through Yu Mingxia’s mind, too fast to catch.

“I’ve long forgotten what you’re talking about, so don’t worry about it,” Yu Mingxia said. She saw Yun Zhi let out a visible sigh of relief. Yu Mingxia continued, “Is there anything else you want to say?”

Now it was Yun Zhi’s turn to be dazed. Did I do something else to hurt Yu Mingxia? Her blank look didn’t seem faked.

Yu Mingxia let out a breath and suddenly smiled. “You’re too sincere with your friends. If you hadn’t mentioned it, I wouldn’t have known.”

“We’re friends. Regardless, I felt I should apologize to you.” Yun Zhi was serious. Since they were friends, she felt she shouldn’t have hurt her, whether in the past, present, or future.

She was glad Yu Mingxia didn’t remember; glad that she hadn’t been too deeply hurt.

The previous haze of anxiety began to dissipate, and logic regained the upper hand. Yun Zhi wasn’t distancing herself, so she clearly hadn’t remembered the love letter. This was for the best.

“It’s okay. It’s all in the past.” The basketball gym, the letter—all of it.

Just as Yun Zhi was about to speak, the phone nearby rang. Seeing the name, she remembered Nan Qiao had invited her out. She hadn’t actually agreed before hanging up, but Nan Qiao had acted spoiled and then hung up, certain she would come. This was likely a reminder.

“I know. I’m coming now.” Yun Zhi felt helpless. It had been a week since she last saw Nan Qiao. She didn’t want to let the relationship turn sour, but Nan Qiao’s attitude made her very uncomfortable. Nan Qiao seemed to have a habit of avoiding problems; every time she called, she acted as though the last conflict had never happened.

The drive was only ten minutes. Nan Qiao was likely near the restaurant already.

Yun Zhi hung up and sighed, preparing to say goodbye to Yu Mingxia. However, when she looked up, she saw Yu Mingxia slumped over the desk, fine beads of sweat on her forehead.

“Mingxia, what’s wrong?” Yun Zhi tossed her phone onto the nearest desk and hurried to her side, leaning over to gently stroke her back. “Are you okay?”

“I…” Yu Mingxia gritted her teeth, a faint sound escaping her from the pain in her stomach. “Stomach ache.”

Yu Mingxia hadn’t expected the pain to hit this hard suddenly. Yun Zhi remembered catching Yu Mingxia taking medicine before; she’d said it was for digestion, but now she realized it must have been for this.

“Where’s the medicine?”

“Rest… rest area.”

“I’ll help you over.”

Yun Zhi helped Yu Mingxia lie down on the sofa in the nearby rest area, then went to find the medicine in the drawer and got a glass of warm water. She helped Yu Mingxia up to take the pills.

After taking the medicine, Yu Mingxia looked a little better, but there was still sweat on her forehead. She kept her eyes tightly shut, her face pale and weak. Yun Zhi sat on a small stool, wiping the sweat from her forehead with a tissue. This version of Yu Mingxia was a far cry from her usual self; she looked like a fragile porcelain doll.

Yun Zhi hadn’t known she had a stomach condition. Every time they ate, she’d seen how thin Mingxia was and tried to get her to eat more. She hadn’t seen her in pain before—why now, over these last few days?

Yun Zhi couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of her.

“Are you okay?”

Yu Mingxia instinctively wanted to say it didn’t hurt so she wouldn’t worry, but the words that came out were a single, piteous word: “Hurts—”

Yun Zhi had never seen Yu Mingxia like this, nor heard her use that tone. If it didn’t truly hurt, she wouldn’t act this way.

“I’m sorry, it’s all my—”

“Zhizhi, it has nothing to do with you. It’s because of my irregular eating habits for work in the past.” Yu Mingxia’s smile was pale, making Yun Zhi even more worried.

“Should we go to the hospital?”

Yu Mingxia shook her head. “Just stay with me.”

Yun Zhi had no mind for anything else now. She nodded in agreement. “Sleep, sleep. It won’t hurt once you’re asleep.”

As the pain subsided and accompanied by Yun Zhi’s voice, drowsiness gradually overtook Yu Mingxia. By the time Yun Zhi looked at her again, she had fallen asleep. Her face was regaining some color, but her brow was still tightly furrowed; she still looked like she was in pain.

Yun Zhi wanted to raise her right hand to help smooth out those wrinkles, but as soon as she moved, she realized her hand was being held fast by Yu Mingxia. She had no choice but to use her left hand.

“A sleeping beauty,” Yun Zhi whispered with a soft laugh.

Suddenly, her smile froze. She had forgotten her appointment with Nan Qiao.

Yun Zhi looked at her watch. It had been half an hour since she said she’d be there “immediately.” Her phone… she realized she had left it on the desk in the office.

Yu Mingxia was asleep, but perhaps due to the intensity of the pain earlier, her grip on Yun Zhi’s wrist was still very strong. As soon as she tried to pull away, Yu Mingxia’s brow furrowed deeper.

“…”

“Mingxia, I need to leave for a bit. Let me go for a second, okay?” Yun Zhi whispered into her ear.

But to her surprise, Yu Mingxia’s grip only tightened.

“…” What could she do? This was just a patient who had fallen asleep from exhaustion and pain.

When Yu Mingxia slowly woke up, she saw Yun Zhi watching her, propping her chin on one hand.

“You’re awake?”

It took a few seconds for Yu Mingxia to react. She hummed a soft “Mm.”

“Then let me go.” Yun Zhi lifted her right hand, which was still being held.

“Sorry.” Yu Mingxia bit her lip. Because of Yun Zhi’s voice, she had fallen into a deep sleep, but she had unconsciously held onto her hand.

“Sleep a bit longer. I have something to do, so I’m heading out first.” Yun Zhi sighed and walked toward the office.

As the sound of the door closing reached her, Yu Mingxia lifted her hand and stared at her palm. It felt surreal. If she hadn’t seen it wrong earlier, the person who invited Yun Zhi was Nan Qiao.

But Yun Zhi hadn’t woken her up to leave. She had waited until she woke up on her own.

It felt like… her chances of winning had just increased by a tiny bit.

Yun Zhi returned to the office, picked up her phone from the desk, and lit up the screen. Her gaze froze.

She thought she would return to find a text saying Nan Qiao had already left. Based on past experience, she didn’t think Nan Qiao would waste so much time waiting for her.

She didn’t expect to see exactly 99 missed calls and messages. All of them were from Nan Qiao.