A Friend I've Loved for a Long Time - Chapter 25

Yu Chuxue found a bench by the roadside and sat down. She looked up at the moths circling the streetlamp and glanced around. In the car, it had felt quiet; only after getting out did she realize…

She had stumbled right into a “lovers’ nest.”

Couples specifically chose these wooded paths for their dates.

However, Yu Chuxue wasn’t the type to eavesdrop; the sounds around her had nothing to do with her. She had intended to remain an invisible passerby, but unexpectedly, Yu Mingxia sent her a video call.

She heard a girl nearby let out a soft “ah,” likely startled by the ringtone. Yu Chuxue cleared her throat and answered the video as if nothing were wrong.

“Tsk, tsk. What’s this? Worried about me?” Yu Chuxue chuckled. “So? Didn’t catch up to Yun Zhi?”

On the screen, Yu Mingxia paused. She didn’t answer the question, but simply said, “I’ve sent the concert tickets to your phone. I also invited Qu Lan for you.”

“Qu Lan? Is she nearby? You just invited her?” Yu Chuxue was surprised; she hadn’t expected such a coincidence.

“We agreed on it earlier. I never planned to go in myself. She’s currently fifty meters away from you.” Yu Mingxia paused before explaining, “She said she’s coming to pick you up, so I cancelled the car I called for you.”

“What do you mean?” Yu Chuxue finally realized she had been played by her own sister. Understanding the intent, she was stuck between laughter and tears. “Can you stop trying to play matchmaker?”

Her relationship with Qu Lan was a straightforward “revolutionary friendship”—comrades who had started a business and struggled together. Both of them understood this.

Yu Mingxia didn’t mention that it was Qu Lan who had asked her to do this, even hinting that Mingxia shouldn’t tag along and disturb them. Although Yu Mingxia didn’t know exactly when Qu Lan’s feelings for Yu Chuxue had changed, looking back, the Yunsan Temple incident seemed suspicious. After all, Qu Lan had only invited Yu Chuxue that day; Yu Chuxue was the one who dragged Mingxia along.

Back then, she must have been a glaring third wheel in Qu Lan’s eyes.

Seeing a red car approaching in the video, Yu Mingxia added, “Actually, Qu Lan likes this band too. Just consider the concert as accompanying her.”

As soon as she finished, she heard Yu Chuxue call out Qu Lan’s name, so Yu Mingxia hung up.

The winding path led to a secluded spot where the lights were dim. Compared to the previous road, this path was much quieter. Earlier there were at least streetlights and a few pedestrians; here, the lights were flickering, and no one was around.

After hanging up, Yu Mingxia gripped the steering wheel, quietly watching Yun Zhi walk slowly on the road ahead. She was walking in the opposite direction of the Sports Center.

This meant she wasn’t going to the concert.

Did things… not go well?

Just as Yu Mingxia prepared to get out of the car, she saw the figure ahead stop. Yun Zhi stood frozen under a streetlamp for a long time before tilting her head back to look up at the light, covering her eyes with both hands.

It looked as though… she were letting her tears flow backward, trying to stop them from falling.

Yu Mingxia’s hand on the door handle paused. Her heart felt heavy, and her grip on the handle tightened. Did Nan Qiao stand her up again?

Ultimately, Yu Mingxia didn’t get out. She simply drove slowly, silently following behind her. She saw Yun Zhi walking and stopping fitfully. Further ahead, two streetlamps were broken; it would be even darker.

In the few seconds she spent thinking, Yu Mingxia switched on her high beams.

After leaving the arcade, Yun Zhi had gone to the Sports Center to pick up the physical tickets. She had intended to watch the concert alone, but she realized she couldn’t do it.

This band was introduced to her by Nan Qiao; the person who said she wanted to experience them live was also Nan Qiao. She thought cynically: Is not giving her the ticket a form of revenge?

How childish, she thought. Childish enough to make her want to laugh. She tilted her head back, looking at the streetlamp, but the light was so piercing she had to cover her eyes.

She remembered the Nan Qiao of many years ago. Back then, when her best friend passed away, it was Nan Qiao who walked up to her and said she could be her new best friend. Initially, Yun Zhi was guarded and didn’t warm up immediately, but Nan Qiao had been persistent, constantly talking to her until they gradually became close. Nan Qiao was so lively; during that dark period, she provided so much warmth.

Later, when Yun Zhi injured her hand and her parents discouraged her—when her dreams shattered along with her camera—it was Nan Qiao who handed her a new camera and said she would always be her backbone, urging her not to give up. To help her regain her courage, Nan Qiao had done so many things.

Both times she received profound warmth, it had come from Nan Qiao.

She remembered a question she asked Nan Qiao in high school:

“If one day there’s a conflict, would you side with logic or side with those close to you?”

Nan Qiao had said:

“Side with logic? Side with family? I side with Yun Zhi. In Nan Qiao’s world, there is only Yun Zhi and ‘everyone else’.”

And later, it was just as she said. To demand justice for Yun Zhi, Nan Qiao had done a great deal.

Yun Zhi still didn’t understand why Nan Qiao had become like this. Perhaps she herself was too sentimental. She hadn’t noticed that the people around her were constantly changing. She didn’t want to lose a friend, so she tolerated her again and again. She was weak; she was indecisive.

Thinking of the past, Yun Zhi felt more distressed. No one can be “just friends” with someone they love. She didn’t want that, and she didn’t want her future partner to suffer that grievance. So, from the moment she fell for Nan Qiao, their relationship was a dead end.

Yun Zhi stopped. She looked up miserably, only to find the road ahead grew even darker. Suddenly, a burst of light appeared behind her.

Yun Zhi turned slightly, instinctively shielding her eyes. She saw a white sedan with its lights on parked by the roadside. Someone was in the car; as she turned, that person stepped out.

She composed herself, her vision focusing, and realized the person behind her was Yu Mingxia. She didn’t know why Yu Mingxia was here, nor how to even say the first word to her. Perhaps she should smile and say hello as she usually did. But she tried, and she couldn’t smile.

In fact, the moment she saw Yu Mingxia, the sense of grievance in her heart grew heavier, and tears welled up in her eyes. As Yu Mingxia approached step by step, Yun Zhi suddenly felt like crying.

She didn’t know what was happening to her. She could only lower her head and try to manage her emotions. However, she didn’t expect that when Yu Mingxia reached her, she didn’t say a word. Instead, she pulled Yun Zhi into a hug.

Yun Zhi heard her gentle, soft sigh: “Cry if you want to.”

Yun Zhi didn’t know how she knew. But hearing those words, her forced restraint finally crumbled. She hugged her back, sobbing quietly against her shoulder.

Why do you act distant then close, cold then hot? Why do you exercise the rights of a lover in the name of a friend?

Why call us friends but always help me reject others—refusing to love me but refusing to let me go?

Why did the girl who was once kind and radiant become so bad?

Yun Zhi, who never wanted to think ill of Nan Qiao, finally admitted it at this moment. Nan Qiao was no longer that kind, simple girl. Or perhaps, in all these years, she had never truly known her.

Yu Mingxia listened to her soft sobs. The thin fabric on her shoulder was soaked with tears. Her cheek lightly brushed Yun Zhi’s hair, and her hand gently patted her back, providing silent comfort.

She understood Yun Zhi’s temperament; she knew that only if Yun Zhi gave up on Nan Qiao would she have a chance. But such an opportunity necessitated that Yun Zhi be hurt. She had once thought: as long as Yun Zhi was happy, she would rather never have the chance. She hoped more than anyone that Nan Qiao was a good person, a worthy person.

But she wasn’t. She was merely a selfish, despicable person.

Yu Mingxia had never blamed Yun Zhi, nor did she feel there was anything wrong with what she said in the basketball gym. What had truly crushed her was what Nan Qiao said when she returned with her group that day. Someone had asked her what kind of person Yun Zhi liked.

“What kind of person? First, at least their family background should match. Do you know how many people in Yun City want to flatter Zhizhi? Don’t think every ‘impoverished student’ can fly to the top of the branch. A princess and a slave—do you think they can love each other?”

“Don’t you agree, Yu Mingxia?”

Don’t you agree, Yu Mingxia.

Every word pierced her heart, yet she couldn’t refute them.

“Zhizhi likes me, I like Zhizhi. Do you want to be the ‘third person’ between us? Make things difficult for her?”

Make things difficult for her.

Those long-forgotten words suddenly became vivid again, like a haunting melody. Yu Mingxia closed her eyes, pushing those messy thoughts away.

After an unknown amount of time, Yun Zhi finally stopped sobbing. She pulled away from the embrace, staring at the shoulder she had soaked with tears. “I’m sorry…” she whispered.

Hearing her apology made Yu Mingxia feel even sadder. She pulled her back into a comforting hug. “If you’re still upset, cry a bit longer.”

When she was alone, Yun Zhi didn’t feel quite this aggrieved. But once Yu Mingxia arrived, her emotions became uncontrollable.

“I’m okay now.” Yun Zhi pulled away again, murmuring with a lowered head, “Thank you.”

Yu Mingxia looked down at her.

“I didn’t intend to cry,” Yun Zhi choked up again, looking at Yu Mingxia with grievance. “But your hug was so warm, I really couldn’t hold it back. If you hadn’t appeared, I could have endured it.”

Yun Zhi didn’t know why she was talking nonsense. She just wanted to speak, but her words sounded like she was throwing a tantrum.

“It’s my fault. Cry a bit more then,” Yu Mingxia said, gently holding her again despite her attempt to move away. “I feel very sad right now.”

Yun Zhi, who was about to say she was truly fine, went quiet when she heard that last sentence. She mimicked Mingxia’s earlier actions, lightly patting her back. Yun Zhi felt like they were two small animals huddling together for warmth.

Maybe Yu Mingxia has her own sorrows too, she thought.

After a while, Yu Mingxia’s mood stabilized. She let go and said softly, “Thank you.”

Yun Zhi shook her head. “I should thank you.”

She had been too upset to notice, but now she realized things between them were a bit strange. She hadn’t said a word, yet Yu Mingxia knew she wanted to cry and even proactively hugged her. And why was Yu Mingxia here? How long had she been following her? She was too busy crying to ask earlier.

“How did you…” Before Yun Zhi could finish, Yu Mingxia preempted her—

“Do you know how dangerous this road is? Aren’t you afraid, walking here alone?”

Yun Zhi looked back; she had indeed veered far off course. After leaving the Sports Center, the original route should have been uphill at the intersection, but she had taken the opposite way downhill.

“I just wanted some quiet.” Yun Zhi realized now that her behavior was dangerous.

Yu Mingxia didn’t want her thinking of bad things again and was about to change the subject, but she heard Yun Zhi whisper, “It’s also quite dangerous for you to follow someone like that…”

Seeing her say this, Yu Mingxia knew her mood was better. She smiled. “I only followed because it was you. I saw you at the intersection just now. I saw how dark the road was and followed because I was afraid you’d be in danger.”

Yun Zhi was stunned. she hadn’t realized Yu Mingxia followed her because she had seen her.

“What are you clutching in your hand?” Yu Mingxia had noticed earlier that Yun Zhi’s right hand had been clenched tight.

Yun Zhi looked up, bit her lip, and opened her palm under Mingxia’s gaze. Yu Mingxia saw two crumpled-up concert tickets. Guessing that Nan Qiao had stood her up, she understood why the tickets were treated this way. But the fact she had picked them up meant she wanted to go. She had only chosen to leave because of “other reasons.”

“I’ve never heard a live concert in my life,” Yu Mingxia sighed.

Yun Zhi blinked, separated the two tickets, and waved them in front of her. “Then let’s go together! I’ll take you!” Her voice was much more energetic than before; she seemed less sad.

Yu Mingxia checked her watch. “It’s 7:55. Is there still time?”

“It’s a five-minute drive. We can make it!”

Seeing that the smile on Yun Zhi’s face wasn’t faked, Yu Mingxia breathed a sigh of relief. “Then let’s go. Take me to the concert.”

The car parked by the roadside was started again. Worried the quiet atmosphere would make Yun Zhi overthink, Yu Mingxia didn’t just play high-tempo music but also chatted with her throughout the five-minute drive. Yun Zhi answered while rubbing her ears; the music was too loud for her to ask why Yu Mingxia had hugged her. She realized she still hadn’t asked that question.

They arrived at the Sports Center just seconds before the ticket gate closed. On the way in, they could already hear the surging roars of the crowd. During the two-minute walk from the entrance to the seats, Yun Zhi found an opportunity to lightly pull Yu Mingxia’s hand.

Yu Mingxia’s heart stirred. She looked at her. “What is it?”

“How did you know I wanted to cry just now? And why did you hug me?”

“I saw you tilt your head back under the streetlamp. I guessed.” Yu Mingxia was succinct, yet she didn’t give the real reason for the hug. Because my heart ached for you. Seeing her sad was more painful than being rejected or warned in the past.

Yun Zhi nodded thoughtfully. Hugging a friend when they’re sad… it’s nothing special. I overthought it.

However— “I actually didn’t want to cry then. I just looked at the streetlamp and it was so bright it made my eyes hurt,” Yun Zhi explained quietly.

Yu Mingxia believed her. “That’s good.”

“You might not believe it, but despite being sad, I actually feel relieved now that I’ve decided to let go.” Even Jiang Yan’an might not believe her if she said this. If Yu Mingxia hadn’t appeared, she might not have cried. She just felt a sense of melancholy; she was a sentimental person and always indecisive in these matters. When the time finally came to let go completely, she actually felt a sense of relief.

“People are strange,” Yun Zhi smiled. After a few steps, she realized Yu Mingxia was still standing in the same spot, looking at her with a complex expression. Yun Zhi was puzzled. Did I say something wrong?

“You said… ‘let go completely’?” Yu Mingxia asked suddenly.

Yun Zhi smiled. “Yeah. Let it be. Our fate ends here.”

Yu Mingxia remained standing there. Yun Zhi, thinking she just didn’t believe her, muttered, “Can you not make your surprise so obvious?”

“Never mind, it’s starting. Quick, let’s go in!” Before Yu Mingxia could reply, Yun Zhi pulled her inside and found their seats.

The venue was even more lively than imagined. Klloy specialized in upbeat songs; halfway through the first track, the crowd was already energized. Glow sticks were provided in the gaps between seats. Yun Zhi took them out, switched on the light—green glow sticks lit up—and handed one to Yu Mingxia.

Yu Mingxia took it and saw Yun Zhi’s lips moving, but the noise was too loud to hear what she was saying. Helpless, Yun Zhi patted her lightly and signaled for her to lean back. Yu Mingxia didn’t understand and simply turned her face toward her.

Yun Zhi leaned in close, bending over to search the gap in the seat beside her. She was very close, and that lime fragrance was back. Earlier, Yu Mingxia had been busy comforting her and didn’t have time to think about it. But now, especially after hearing that she planned to let go completely, Yu Mingxia’s state of mind was different.

If the music and cheers weren’t so loud, Yu Mingxia was sure Yun Zhi would hear her racing heart. Yun Zhi didn’t notice the abnormality; she simply switched on the glow stick and began to sway to the music.

Noticing Yu Mingxia was staring at her while holding her glow stick perfectly still, Yun Zhi grabbed her wrist and lifted it. “Move it!”

Yu Mingxia snapped back. When Yun Zhi looked away, she stole another glance. She saw her lips turned up slightly and her eyes reflecting the brilliance of the stage, with no trace of her previous sadness.

Yun Zhi turned her head, catching Yu Mingxia’s gaze. She partially covered her mouth with her hand and leaned into her ear. “I’ll take you to my sister’s concert in the future.”

Hearing the words “in the future,” the curve of Yu Mingxia’s lips widened. “Really?”

Yun Zhi nodded. “Everything’s ready; we’re just waiting for her to debut.” Since Yun Zhi had mentioned it before, Yu Mingxia had looked into it and even started a “get close to the sister” plan—by voting for her.

Yun Zhi moved back, only then noticing the increasingly tender look in Yu Mingxia’s eyes. A strange sensation rose in her heart. She sensitively sensed that something had changed.

Yu Mingxia opened her phone and saw a message from Yu Chuxue:

[I see you. Did you buy another ticket or did you hitch a ride on hers?]

She looked at the music-obsessed Yun Zhi before replying: [Hers.]

Yu Chuxue: [Good sister, you’re amazing. Did you snatch her from someone else?]

Seeing the word “snatch,” Yu Mingxia frowned. The messages continued:

Yu Chuxue: [Wanna grab late-night snacks with Yun Zhi afterward?]

Yu Mingxia looked at the happy Yun Zhi and declined. [Maybe next time. She might be tired today.]

Yu Chuxue didn’t insist; she was only messaging because she was bored.

Yu Mingxia had no interest in the concert, but seeing Yun Zhi so happy made her happy too. She raised her hand, mimicking the rhythm of Yun Zhi’s swaying, and watched the performers.

“Next, we will begin the lucky audience selection!” the lead singer said into the microphone. The echoes filled the stadium along with the cheers.

Yun Zhi never had much luck in this regard and didn’t hold onto any futile hopes. After waving the glow stick for a while, her arm was sore.

“Don’t want to win?” Yu Mingxia asked, noticing her movements.

Yun Zhi put down the glow stick and stretched her wrist. “It’s not about wanting to win; I’m a ‘bad luck’ type of person. I never win these draws.”

Yu Mingxia chuckled. “I’ve always had good luck. Maybe I can share some with you.” Throughout her life, Yu Mingxia had faced difficulties, but fortunately, they were always resolved. So, in her view, her luck was quite good.

“I don’t believe you,” Yun Zhi pouted. “Don’t blame me for not being supportive, but I…” Before she could finish saying she never won, an announcement echoed through the stadium:

“Where is the lucky audience member in Row 5, Seat 7?”

Row 5, Seat 7?

Wait, isn’t that me?

It wasn’t until people around her began to look that Yun Zhi belatedly realized she had actually won. When the microphone was passed to her, she was still a bit dazed. I actually won? Does Yu Mingxia really have a luck buff?

“What song would you like to request?” the singer asked.

Yun Zhi looked at Yu Mingxia, who was watching her with a gentle smile. She lightly nudged her with her index finger and leaned in, worried she wouldn’t hear over the noise. “What song should I request?”

Seeing her slightly dazed look—especially when she lowered her head and whispered into her ear out of confusion—Yu Mingxia couldn’t help but laugh. This version of Yun Zhi was “illegally” cute.

Yu Mingxia said softly, “Love You.”

When Yun Zhi heard these words, she froze. For a moment she didn’t react, asking foolishly, “What?”

Yu Mingxia repeated, “A Klloy song—’Love You’.”

For some reason, at this moment, Yun Zhi felt those words sounded a bit like she was covering something up. Perhaps because too many things had happened today; what would normally seem like a regular reaction from Yu Mingxia now made her sense something was off.

This feeling made it impossible for her to enjoy the rest of the concert. Her gaze frequently fell on Yu Mingxia’s face, trying to see… something.

Until the concert ended and Yu Mingxia dropped her off at her apartment complex, she still felt anxious. She hoped she was just being sensitive.

But when she got out of the car to leave, she turned back to find Yu Mingxia still standing outside the vehicle, watching her. Yun Zhi stopped her ascent and hesitated for a long time before turning back and walking toward Yu Mingxia.

She had experienced it; she knew how detestable people like that could be. She didn’t want to become another Nan Qiao.

Seeing the person who had already left suddenly reappear beside her, Yu Mingxia was about to ask if she’d forgotten something. Then she heard Yun Zhi’s calm and gentle voice:

“I have something to ask you. It might sound a bit narcissistic, so please don’t be angry.”

Yu Mingxia could vaguely sense trouble from the conflict on her face. She also knew that today she had forgotten her disguise, allowing her thoughts to be easily read.

Finally, she heard the question she couldn’t face at this moment—

“Yu Mingxia… do you like me?”