A Friend I've Loved for a Long Time - Chapter 22

As soon as Yun Zhi clicked into the messages, Nan Qiao’s name appeared as an incoming call. The moment she answered, a questioning voice rang out from the receiver: “Didn’t you say you were coming right away? I’ve been waiting for an hour and a half.”

There was a faint trace of grievance in her tone.

Yun Zhi glanced at the time; it had indeed been exactly an hour and a half. She rubbed her temples and said, “I’m sorry, Qiaoqiao. Something came up unexpectedly. Are you still at the restaurant?”

“What happened?” Nan Qiao pressed.

Helpless, Yun Zhi told her the truth: “A friend suddenly had a stomach ache, and I had to look after her.”

“Who?” Nan Qiao continued to interrogate.

Yun Zhi was about to say the name, but suddenly she felt it was unnecessary. She recalled something Nan Qiao had said a long time ago. Back then, Yun Zhi had a big heart; although she had been rejected, no one else ever appeared by Nan Qiao’s side, so she never minded much.

Until later, when Nan Qiao stopped telling her everything and no longer shared the people she met. One day, she told Yun Zhi directly that even friends should have private space.

At that time, Yun Zhi wanted to use Zhu Qingmeng and Jiang Yan’an as a counter-argument, only to suddenly realize that the two had long since ceased being “just friends.”

That was the first time Yun Zhi clearly recognized that Nan Qiao was seriously drawing a boundary around the rights Yun Zhi held as a friend. The dynamic between them had never actually been equal.

“Are you still at the restaurant?” Yun Zhi chose not to answer. She tidied her handbag and left the office.

“Yes.”

“I’ll be there right—” Before Yun Zhi could finish, her footsteps stopped.

A busy tone came from the receiver: Beep, beep, beep—

Nan Qiao had hung up.

The downward elevator passed the thirteenth floor, but because Yun Zhi was dazed, she didn’t get on. By the time she snapped out of it, the elevator was already on the tenth floor.

Yun Zhi arrived at the restaurant ten minutes later.

Table 10 was covered in food that had already gone cold. The plate in front of Nan Qiao was clean; she hadn’t touched a single bite of the food on the table. Nan Qiao looked at her but didn’t speak, appearing to still be angry.

Yun Zhi reflected that it was indeed her fault, so she apologized again: “Sorry I’m late.”

Nan Qiao pursed her lips, her expression complex, though anger was the most prominent emotion. She didn’t respond. Yun Zhi took a look at her and sat down in the opposite seat.

In the past, Yun Zhi often traveled to take photos, sometimes staying away for months. When she returned, Nan Qiao would be angry like this, and Yun Zhi would coax her.

“Don’t be mad anymore. I really didn’t do it on purpose.”

Hearing no answer, Yun Zhi called a waiter over to replace the meal.

“A few days ago, Zhu Qingmeng said she saw you with a very beautiful woman, talking and laughing. Is she a new friend?” After the waiter left, Nan Qiao suddenly spoke.

Zhu Qingmeng told her? Yun Zhi hadn’t spent any time alone with Zhu Qingmeng recently. Was it An’an? That didn’t seem right; if An’an promised to keep a secret, she wouldn’t tell anyone.

Unable to think of the reason, Yun Zhi let it go. But since Nan Qiao was speaking now, she was likely no longer angry.

“Yes, what about it?”

“Don’t you usually avoid acting ambiguous with people who like you?” Nan Qiao stared at her, her fingers clenched under the table—so tight her nails were almost digging into her palms.

Yun Zhi froze, not understanding what she was getting at. She replied casually, “She doesn’t like me; she has someone she likes.”

The food hadn’t arrived yet. Yun Zhi took a sip of orange juice through a straw.

“Is that true?” Nan Qiao didn’t believe it. She didn’t think Zhu Qingmeng would lie to her for no reason.

Yun Zhi lowered her eyes and didn’t answer. A faint sense of irritability rose in her heart. This wasn’t the first time this had happened. Since university, Nan Qiao would always point out who liked her. Yun Zhi never liked being ambiguous, so she would often cut ties as soon as she sensed someone’s feelings.

She had even been targeted by rumors because of this. Though, thinking about it, they weren’t exactly rumors. Wasn’t she the very definition of unrequited love?

“In what capacity are you questioning me, Nan Qiao?” Yun Zhi smiled. “Friend? Girlfriend?”

Nan Qiao was rendered speechless by the question. But she knew that because Yun Zhi could even use the word “girlfriend,” it meant she still liked her. Nan Qiao unconsciously breathed a sigh of relief.

Yun Zhi, who had been somewhat hungry, no longer wanted to eat. Sometimes she hated her own sensitivity and how well she knew Nan Qiao. She could guess Nan Qiao’s mood from a single expression or movement.

“I waited for you for an hour and a half. I called you so many times and you didn’t answer, nor did you reply to my messages. Is this how you treat me now?”

As usual, Nan Qiao changed the subject. But Yun Zhi knew that even if they didn’t, Nan Qiao would eventually answer with the word “friend.”

Perhaps having received the answer she wanted, Nan Qiao returned to her usual self, her tone turning cooing and spoiled rather than accusatory. But Yun Zhi wasn’t satisfied; in fact, she grew more annoyed.

“Is 104 minutes a long time?” Before entering the restaurant, Yun Zhi had checked her watch—she was exactly 104 minutes late. She truly hadn’t expected Nan Qiao to wait that long today. Usually, after a message exchange, Nan Qiao would leave after ten minutes at most. She certainly didn’t expect the barrage of phone calls.

“Is it not long?”

“Then have you calculated how long I’ve waited for you in the past?”

As soon as Yun Zhi spoke, Nan Qiao froze. Over the years, Yun Zhi had never brought up old scores. Now, she clearly felt that Yun Zhi had changed.

Nan Qiao snapped back and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Yun Zhi didn’t want to hear an apology. Even she didn’t know what was wrong today—why her emotions were fluctuating so wildly. Perhaps it started the moment Nan Qiao claimed Yu Mingxia liked her.

Why say that? It was nothing more than a way to confirm whether she still liked Nan Qiao.

Yun Zhi didn’t understand her motives and didn’t care to guess, nor did she want to think the worst of her. After knowing her for thirteen years, she hoped the Nan Qiao before her was still the little girl who would approach her with candy and tell her not to cry. She hoped she was the radiant girl who handed her a camera and told her to start over when she wanted to give up after being rejected and discouraged.

She didn’t want to speculate about Nan Qiao with malice.

The two fell into silence. The waiter brought the reheated dishes back to the table.

“Let’s eat.” This time, Yun Zhi was the one to change the subject.

Nan Qiao opened her mouth but couldn’t find the words. She simply hummed in response and used a clean pair of chopsticks to place a piece of meat on Yun Zhi’s plate.

“It’s been a week since we saw each other. Is work too busy? You’ve lost a lot of weight.”

“Not too busy. I weighed myself yesterday; I haven’t gained any weight.”

…

When they left the restaurant, Yun Zhi tactfully declined Nan Qiao’s request to head home together, using the excuse that she had to return to the office and calling a taxi instead.

The growing number of conflicts between her and Nan Qiao left her feeling lost. She would indulge and tolerate Nan Qiao, but she also had her own temper and principles. She liked Nan Qiao, but she didn’t think about clinging to her every waking moment. Her consistent principle was that whoever caused the conflict should be the one to seek reconciliation.

So, it was normal for her and Nan Qiao not to contact each other privately for months.

It wasn’t that she hadn’t thought about liking someone else. But she had many passions; her life wasn’t just about romance. Being rejected made her sad for a moment, but it was only a brief period. In fact, she should have given up two years ago when Nan Qiao first entered a relationship.

She had tried to follow through, but then Nan Qiao was suddenly injured. Her heart softened, and she returned to the country. During the time she spent with Nan Qiao during her recovery, seeing her vulnerability, she thought: I’ll just keep liking her for now.

Liking someone is exhausting; starting over to like someone else might be even more exhausting.

In the blink of an eye, two years had passed. During these two years, Nan Qiao hadn’t dated again, but there had been no progress between them either.

In the taxi, Yun Zhi looked out the window at the retreating scenery, her mind drifting. Suddenly, she remembered Nan Qiao’s words. After hesitating for a few seconds, she found Zhu Qingmeng’s name in her contacts and dialed. The call was answered quickly.

“What is it?”

Yun Zhi was startled for a moment, then realized that every time she called Zhu Qingmeng, it was because she needed something. It made sense to ask “what is it” right away.

“I have something I want to ask you, if it’s convenient?”

Zhu Qingmeng: “Go ahead.”

“When did you see me with a beautiful woman?”

Yun Zhi didn’t ask directly why Zhu Qingmeng said Yu Mingxia liked her; she asked this first. Emotionally, perhaps she should believe Nan Qiao, but logically, she hesitated. She didn’t think Zhu Qingmeng would talk nonsense.

Zhu Qingmeng was at the hospital nurse’s station heating up porridge for Jiang Yan’an. The timer went off, and the microwave chimed. Having made a guess, Zhu Qingmeng looked down as she took the porridge out and replied, “When did I see you with a beautiful woman?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m answering your question.”

Yun Zhi frowned. Was Nan Qiao lying to her?

Zhu Qingmeng: “Did someone say something to you?”

Yun Zhi: “Ah, no.”

Since she denied it, Yun Zhi didn’t elaborate. Zhu Qingmeng was not a person who would lie.

“Oh,” Zhu Qingmeng added. “Find some time to see An’an. She misses you but is afraid of disturbing you, so she told you not to come.”

Yun Zhi: “Okay, I’ll head over after work tomorrow. I still have things to finish today.”

“Have you seen Nan Qiao? I haven’t seen her in nearly half a month,” Zhu Qingmeng asked.

“Huh? You haven’t seen her in half a month?” Calculating it, that meant their last meeting was at her house.

“Mm.”

Yun Zhi considered this. If they hadn’t seen each other in half a month, it was impossible for Zhu Qingmeng to have said those things to Nan Qiao. Zhu Qingmeng had no reason to lie.

Perhaps she shouldn’t have made this call; it was questioning both Nan Qiao and Zhu Qingmeng.

“Sorry to bother you,” Yun Zhi apologized.

“No problem. Remember to bring plenty of snacks for An’an when you come tomorrow,” Zhu Qingmeng instructed.

“Okay.”

Yun Zhi hung up, feeling like something was off but unable to pinpoint what. Just then, the driver pulled over. “Wenle Apartments, we’re here.” The announcement broke her train of thought.

Jiang Yan’an noticed that Zhu Qingmeng seemed to have something on her mind after returning from the nurse’s station. She silently fed her spoonful after spoonful of porridge. These last few days of bland food had made her feel like life was hopeless.

“Mengmeng, I want meat. I want spicy food.”

Jiang Yan’an complained but received no answer. She called out again: “Mengmeng?”

Zhu Qingmeng snapped back, looked at Jiang Yan’an, and set down the nearly empty bowl.

“An’an,” Zhu Qingmeng sighed, looking troubled.

“What is it? Did your heart stay at the nurse’s station?” Jiang Yan’an pouted.

“Don’t talk nonsense,” Zhu Qingmeng stroked her head and said softly, “I just lied.”

“Huh?” No wonder she was silent. Jiang Yan’an thought for a bit and comforted her: “I’m sure you had a reason to lie. Don’t beat yourself up.”

Jiang Yan’an could be fussy about small things, but she was always clear-headed regarding major issues. Of course, Zhu Qingmeng being upset over someone else counted as a major issue to her.

“Wait, you didn’t lie to me, did you?” Jiang Yan’an asked belatedly.

“No, don’t worry,” Zhu Qingmeng said. “An’an.” Zhu Qingmeng seemed to have made a decision; her expression was serious as she called her name.

“Hmm?”

“Do me a favor.”

9:00 PM.

Yun Zhi had just finished washing up and was sitting on the sofa, planning to watch some TV before resting. Just as she placed the remote on the coffee table, her phone vibrated. It was a message from Jiang Yan’an.

Jiang Yan’an: Beep beep beep! An’an requesting a call to Zhizhi.

This was their secret code. Yun Zhi smiled and replied:

Yun Zhi: Beep beep beep! Zhizhi receiving. An’an, go ahead.

Jiang Yan’an: How did things go with that thing? Did you apologize to Yu Mingxia? Did she accept?

Yun Zhi: Mm, she said it’s all in the past.

Jiang Yan’an: Wow, Yu Mingxia really is a beauty with a kind heart!

Yun Zhi: ?

Jiang Yan’an: Oh, I just wanted to gossip with you. I’m too bored.

Jiang Yan’an: By the way, didn’t you love taking photos of girls at school in high school? Since Yu Mingxia went to our school and is so pretty, maybe you even took a photo of her.

Yun Zhi, who was drinking water, paused at this. That makes sense. She was actually quite curious about what Yu Mingxia looked like in high school.

Yun Zhi: I’ll look for it.

After replying, Yun Zhi went to her study. She took two photo albums from the shelf and began searching. In high school, she loved photography, especially of girls, so she often asked people at school to model. After shooting, she would keep a copy for her collection. These two thick albums were the result of her three years of high school. Although she rarely looked back at them, she had always kept them. She had traveled many places and taken many photos, but her favorites were still these from her high school days.

In her eyes, all girls were beautiful.

Ten minutes passed. She had finished both albums. There was no sign of Yu Mingxia. She had a habit of recording names with her photos; the name “Yu Mingxia” never appeared. For that matter, neither did “Yu Chuxue.”

Yun Zhi: I never shot her.

Jiang Yan’an: Wow, she was probably even prettier back then than she is now. Why didn’t you shoot her?!

Yun Zhi: …

Yun Zhi: Weren’t you guys in charge of that?

In high school, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say Nan Qiao and Jiang Yan’an were members of her “studio.” She loved taking photos, so the two of them would book models for her, with clear division of labor.

Jiang Yan’an: What! Nan Qiao was in charge of our grade. You should ask her.

Seeing this, Yun Zhi froze for a few seconds. She remembered that Nan Qiao was indeed the one helping her book classmates from their grade. Except for their senior year when things were busy and she stopped shooting to study, she took photos almost every few days during her first two years. Nan Qiao and An’an would book the people, and she just had to take the shots.

Jiang Yan’an: I want to know too! Why didn’t Nan Qiao book Yu Mingxia? She must have been beautiful then. Why???

Yun Zhi was silent. Then she saw:

Jiang Yan’an: Does Nan Qiao have a grudge against Yu Mingxia? Did she intentionally stop you from shooting her or talking to her!

The brooding Yun Zhi let out a laugh at this; the imagination was too wild. What reason would Nan Qiao have to do that?

Yun Zhi: Why don’t you think it was just because Mingxia didn’t want to be photographed then?

After all, plenty of people turned them down—some were shy, some just didn’t want to be in photos. High school Yu Mingxia likely fell into the “shy” category.

Jiang Yan’an: Wow, you are so biased toward her! Hmph hmph.

Jiang Yan’an: Anyway, it was definitely Nan Qiao’s fault. If you had let me book the classmates, I would have brought Yu Mingxia to you long ago. Maybe the person you’d like now would be her.

Yun Zhi: …

Yun Zhi: Reiterating: Yu Mingxia and I are friends.

Jiang Yan’an: Just wait, you’ll fall for her sooner or later!

Jiang Yan’an: Since it’s inevitable, I suggest you hurry up!

Yun Zhi: …

Seeing the conversation go off the rails, Yun Zhi sighed. Only an ellipsis could express her mood. She didn’t understand how, to Jiang Yan’an, a new friend was basically a romantic prospect.

But, as she had told Yu Mingxia, as long as they didn’t misunderstand each other, it was fine.

Jiang Yan’an’s messages continued to stack up. Yun Zhi closed the album, intending to put it back. Perhaps because the album was old, a photo slipped out and drifted to the floor.

Yun Zhi set the album down and knelt to pick it up.

The photo showed a girl in a school uniform with her back to the camera, sitting quietly under a cherry blossom tree. She was painting at an easel. It was the cherry blossom season, and petals rested on her shoulders and hair.

The scene was so peaceful and beautiful that Yun Zhi had snapped it on impulse. She had just started her freshman year of high school. At the time, the girl had left in a hurry, so she didn’t have time to talk to her. She later found her to apologize and requested to keep the photo.

Actually, that was the first girl she ever photographed after entering high school. And it was that shot that caused her heart to flutter for the first time, confirming her orientation.

“Pei Wenna,” Yun Zhi murmured the name written on it and placed the photo back on the first page of the album.

It was a pity; perhaps it was just the atmosphere of the moment. When she finally met Pei Wenna properly, she didn’t feel that same heartbeat. Later, Pei Wenna transferred schools, and the incident faded from her memory.

Yun Zhi put the album back on the shelf and left the study.