A Friend I've Loved for a Long Time - Chapter 3

After getting into the car, Yun Zhi didn’t say much. Sitting in the passenger seat, she kept her head down, flipping through the photo album on her camera. The car moved slowly. Occasionally, Nan Qiao would mention a few things that had happened over the last couple of days, but both women tacitly avoided the subject of the exhibition.

Midway through the drive, Yun Zhi received a call from her friend, Jiang Yan’an, asking how much longer she’d be.

Yun Zhi glanced at the map and replied, “Another thirty minutes.”

“Great! I’m here with… waiting for you at home. Happy Birthday!”

After hanging up, Yun Zhi looked at the front windshield where the wipers were working rhythmically and asked, “Are those two fighting again?”

“Yeah, they’ve been at it for two days now,” Nan Qiao replied, glancing at her through the rearview mirror. “Same reason as usual.”

Jiang Yan’an and Zhu Qingmeng were mutual friends of Yun Zhi and Nan Qiao. They had known each other since high school and had been a couple for ten years. In that decade, they’d had small arguments every three days and major ones every week, breaking up and getting back together hundreds of times.

It was always Jiang Yan’an making a scene and Zhu Qingmeng coaxing her back; a few days later, they’d be fine. It was a cycle Yun Zhi and Nan Qiao were well-accustomed to, so they rarely intervened.

“Zhizhi, who was that woman you mentioned earlier?” Nan Qiao asked while gripping the steering wheel.

Coincidentally, Yun Zhi had just flipped to the photo of Yu Mingxia. Her expression flickered. Perhaps it was the angle, but she noticed that in the photo, Yu Mingxia’s gaze seemed focused directly on the lens.

Yun Zhi studied it closely, answering Nan Qiao distractedly, “She was standing right next to me before you arrived. Didn’t you see her?”

“No. When I saw you, you were alone,” Nan Qiao replied bluntly.

Yun Zhi turned her head slowly, confused. “You must have at least seen a silhouette, right?”

“I didn’t.” Nan Qiao, assuming Yun Zhi was trying to change the subject, tightened her grip on the wheel until her knuckles turned white.

“You’re making it sound like a ghost story,” Yun Zhi muttered. She looked down at the blue roses in her lap and touched a petal. The soft texture brought her back to reality. “You just weren’t paying attention.”

Nan Qiao pursed her lips and glanced at Yun Zhi, who was stroking the petals with a gentle, reminiscent look. It wasn’t hard to guess that the bouquet had been given to her by that woman.

“Is she a fan of yours?”

“I don’t think so. Just a chance encounter.”

“A ‘chance encounter’ gives you flowers?”

Nan Qiao’s tone was sharp, bordering on an interrogation.

Yun Zhi froze. She looked up at the slightly out-of-control Nan Qiao, only to see the other woman turn her face away.

Screech—

The car suddenly pulled over. Nan Qiao opened the door and stepped out without a word.

The rain outside had let up, but a fine mist still hung in the air. Through the rearview mirror, Yun Zhi saw Nan Qiao open the trunk. Just as Yun Zhi was about to get out and bring her an umbrella, she heard a loud thud—the trunk had been slammed shut.

A moment later, the car door reopened. Nan Qiao climbed back into the driver’s seat holding a bouquet of fiery red roses and thrust them in front of Yun Zhi.

“Here. Flowers.” Nan Qiao stared at her intently. Seeing Yun Zhi dazed by the roses, she added, “I was going to wait until we arrived to give these to you. Congratulations on the exhibition, and Happy Birthday.”

The rain was light now, so the sound of droplets hitting the car shouldn’t have been that loud, yet as Nan Qiao spoke, Yun Zhi felt as if the rain were falling directly into her ear.

The sound was heavy, like it was crashing against her heart.

Yun Zhi reached out and took the roses. There was a card tucked into the center of the bouquet, forcing Yun Zhi to use her other hand to retrieve it.

In that instant, Nan Qiao snatched the blue roses from her hand. She rolled down the window and murmured, “Not as pretty as my flowers.”

Watching her, Yun Zhi guessed what she was about to do. The card she had just pulled out slipped from her fingers as she reached out to stop her. “Give them back.”

Nan Qiao paused and looked at her slowly. “But you already have the flowers I gave you.”

“Then put them in the back seat. Either way, you can’t throw them away.” Yun Zhi’s desire to read the card had faded; her eyes were fixed solely on the flowers Nan Qiao had taken.

“Why?”

Nan Qiao was naturally beautiful, and being stared at like that in the cramped space of the car made Yun Zhi’s heart race uncomfortably. She didn’t want to look into her eyes anymore, so she threw a question back: “And why are you doing this?”

Likely not expecting a counter-question, Nan Qiao was stunned. It took her a long time to answer: “Why am I doing what?”

“This has exceeded the boundaries of friendship. Who I talk to or who gives me flowers—that’s my business.” Yun Zhi let out a long breath and looked at Nan Qiao’s expression. The other woman was staring at her with tightly pressed lips, silent.

Yun Zhi continued, “If I really did start dating, shouldn’t you, as my friend, be happy for me? After all, I even bought you a gift when you were in a relationship before.”

“Yun Zhi.”

Yun Zhi looked down at her wrist. Her fair skin was flushed red where Nan Qiao was gripping it. The strength of the hold was surprising.

The car was silent, but Yun Zhi felt like she could hear a clock ticking in her ears—second by second, minute by minute.

Finally, a ringtone shattered the silence.

The pressure on her wrist vanished, leaving behind a red mark. Yun Zhi placed the roses on her lap and gently rubbed her wrist. As Nan Qiao answered the phone, Yun Zhi turned to look out the window.

She realized she had been hoping.

Just like in previous years, she had been hoping that Nan Qiao would tell her that her feelings weren’t just the “love” of a friend.

Unfortunately, in this matter, her hope was destined to remain just hope. Perhaps she should never have entertained such thoughts in the first place.

In all the years she had been friends with Nan Qiao, Yun Zhi hadn’t loved her from the start. It happened in their senior year of high school. Yun Zhi had suffered an accident—a blow that was both physical and psychological. It was Nan Qiao who told her to stand back up, who helped her reclaim her dreams. In that moment, her feelings had transformed.

When a person has desires, they become restless with the status quo. Perhaps, for Nan Qiao, Yun Zhi’s love was actually a burden.

“We’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Nan Qiao finally hung up. Silence returned to the car.

“Sorry, Zhizhi. I lost my cool just now. You’re right—as friends, we should support each other. I was just worried you’re too naive and might get tricked, so I wanted to check things out for you.”

Nan Qiao had recovered her composure. Her expression was sincere, and she even managed a smile.

Yun Zhi didn’t feel particularly disappointed or sad; after experiencing something enough times, one simply gets used to it.

“Sometimes I feel…”

Yun Zhi didn’t finish the sentence. She lowered her eyes, blinking back the stinging sensation in them. Before Nan Qiao restarted the engine, Yun Zhi held out her hand. “Give me the flowers.”

Nan Qiao handed them back. She stayed silent for a moment, any words of comfort left unsaid, and started the car.

Yun Zhi looked out the window. Her blurry reflection stared back from the fogged-up glass.

Sometimes I feel like you do like me. Your encouragement when I lose heart, your meticulous care when I’m sick, the possessiveness and loss of control in your eyes when I talk about others.

But Yun Zhi knew that even if she said this to Nan Qiao, all she would get in return was a flippant, “Because we’re best friends.”

Yun Zhi didn’t quite understand. Do friends really have such intense possessiveness? Intense enough to chase away everyone she ever mentioned having a crush on?

They arrived at Yun Zhi’s apartment thirty minutes later. Jiang Yan’an and Zhu Qingmeng had been waiting for a long time.

As soon as Yun Zhi opened the door, confetti rained down on her. The living room walls were covered in balloons and streamers. In the center, balloons spelled out: HAPPY BIRTHDAY YUN ZHI.

“Happy Birthday! Happy 27th birthday to my dear Zhizhi!” Jiang Yan’an walked toward her holding a cake.

Yun Zhi smiled, set the flowers on the entryway cabinet, and took the cake from her. “Thank you, An’an. Thank you, Qingmeng.”

Zhu Qingmeng, who had been standing silently to the side, added, “Happy Birthday. An’an made you dinner.”

“An’an made it?” Yun Zhi was genuinely shocked, given Jiang Yan’an’s infamous reputation in the kitchen.

“She gave the orders, I did the cooking,” Zhu Qingmeng said with a faint smile.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Jiang Yan’an pouted and muttered, “It’s not like I made it just to suck up to you.”

Seeing this, Yun Zhi knew Jiang Yan’an was still quite angry. It seemed even a home-cooked dinner from Zhu Qingmeng wouldn’t be enough to settle this fight.

“I’ll share my wishes with you. One for each person,” Yun Zhi said, placing the cake on the dining table and looking at them.

Ever since the four of them met, they had done this almost every birthday. Her three birthday wishes were always forcibly expanded into four.

“Zhizhi, your cake wishes are so effective. Every year the wish I borrow from you comes true,” Jiang Yan’an said, her head—topped with a messy bun—bobbing excitedly.

Zhu Qingmeng looked at her. “What are you wishing for this year?”

“I’m wishing for you to stay far away from me.” Jiang Yan’an’s anger hadn’t faded; the hurtful words slipped out before she could stop them.

Zhu Qingmeng went silent. After a few seconds, she asked, “Truly?”

Seeing the conflict deepening, Yun Zhi quickly stepped in. “An’an always says the opposite of what she means. She definitely doesn’t mean that.”

Jiang Yan’an tried to say more, but Yun Zhi covered her mouth. Jiang Yan’an could only stomp her foot in frustration.

“Now that I think about it, your birthday wishes are quite effective. My wish from last year came true, too,” Zhu Qingmeng said, changing the subject.

“What did you wish for last year?” Jiang Yan’an forgot her grudge and leaned in to ask.

“I wished that you wouldn’t win the Gold Award for dancers.” Zhu Qingmeng reached out and playfully tugged her bun while she was close.

“Hey! I clearly won—hmph, you’re doing that ‘opposite’ thing again.” Jiang Yan’an realized she’d been teased and glared at the smiling Zhu Qingmeng.

“Did your wish from last year come true?” Yun Zhi looked at the bickering pair, then turned to the silent Nan Qiao.

Nan Qiao nodded. “It did.”

“What about Zhizhi? Did your wish come true?” Jiang Yan’an’s question drew everyone’s attention.

“Um… maybe my wish was too much. It hasn’t come true yet.”

“What was it?”

“To be filthy rich and incredibly beautiful?”

“Pfft, how much richer do you want to be? You’re only slightly less wealthy than the Song family. And you’re already this beautiful—be satisfied!” Jiang Yan’an reached out to pinch Yun Zhi’s cheek but was blocked by Zhu Qingmeng. She stuck her tongue out. “You only get three wishes anyway. Having three come true is already amazing. Your birthday definitely has some supernatural luck to it.”

Yun Zhi laughed, poked the candles into the cake, and lit them. “Alright, let’s make our wishes.”

“If we have four wishes but only three can come true, we’re actually competitors! I better wish fast,” Jiang Yan’an prattled on, making the other three laugh.

As the candles burned down halfway, Yun Zhi glanced at Nan Qiao, who already had her eyes closed. Then, Yun Zhi slowly closed her own eyes. She sighed inwardly. If a wish can’t come true, then I’ll just make a different one. This time, I’ll put myself at the center.

—I hope that this year, I can stop loving Nan Qiao and learn to love someone else.

By the time she finished the wish in her heart, the candles had burned out. It was too late to take it back.

Yun Zhi looked at her friends, who were already starting to play around with the cake, and the tension in her lips finally relaxed.

If only making a wish were all it took for things to come true.