A Friend I've Loved for a Long Time - Chapter 5

Early the next morning, when Zhu Qingmeng and Jiang Yan’an got out of bed, Yun Zhi was already sitting at the dining table. Her hand rested near her phone, and her brow was furrowed as if she were deep in thought—or waiting for something.

Jiang Yan’an cleared her throat and pulled Zhu Qingmeng down to sit in the chairs beside Yun Zhi.

Hearing them, Yun Zhi snapped out of her daze. Her gaze lingered on their tightly interlocked hands, and she offered a faint smile. “Back together?”

“What do you mean ‘back together’? We never broke up, and we weren’t even fighting, right Mengmeng?” Jiang Yan’an nudged Zhu Qingmeng, urging her to back her up. However, the latter only stared at her with a grin, causing Jiang Yan’an a fresh wave of embarrassed annoyance.

“Alright, let’s have breakfast.” Yun Zhi, well-acquainted with their temperaments, pushed the food toward them to prevent another bickering match.

Jiang Yan’an didn’t touch her food. Instead, she propped her chin on her hand and observed Yun Zhi’s expression. Even though she looked perfectly normal peeling a boiled egg, Jiang Yan’an remembered the look on her face while she was staring at her phone just moments ago.

“Were you waiting for a call from Nan Qiao?” Jiang Yan’an was the type to say whatever was on her mind; her friends were long since used to her bluntness.

Yun Zhi didn’t mind. She looked up, placed the peeled egg into Jiang Yan’an’s bowl, and sighed. “No.”

“Then what were you waiting for?”

Jiang Yan’an brought it up to open the conversation. Last night hadn’t been the right time, but now was the perfect opportunity for some comforting.

“Nothing in particular. It has nothing to do with her,” Yun Zhi lowered her head to take a sip of porridge, afraid her friend would misunderstand again. “I’m fine. Just eat. Don’t you have to go to work?”

Seeing this, Jiang Yan’an pursed her lips and dropped the subject.

The table fell silent. The dining room was filled only with the soft chatter between Jiang Yan’an and Zhu Qingmeng and the clinking of utensils.

Yun Zhi watched the scene, her mind drifting.

What was I waiting for?

She realized she actually had been thinking of something, which was why she had given off the impression of waiting.

What was it?

It was likely a fleeting thought about a message she had received every single year for ten years—but hadn’t received this year.

Every birthday, Yun Zhi received many well-wishes. Beyond classmates and friends, due to her family background, she received messages from various business partners interested in her family’s company.

Most of the latter had ulterior motives; genuine blessings were rare. Having been deceived when she was younger, Yun Zhi now filtered her messages selectively.

A year ago, when she was preparing to change her phone number, she discovered a contact that had sent her the exact same message on her birthday for ten consecutive years:

[Happy Birthday]

Was it someone she knew?

Yun Zhi had entertained the thought of calling the number to ask, but by the time she saw the message, a month had already passed. It was too late to reply, and her busy work schedule meant her curiosity wasn’t strong enough to drive her to track them down.

She had pushed it to the back of her mind, only for it to resurface this morning while she was sorting through her notifications.

That split-second lapse in focus had been caught by Jiang Yan’an and misinterpreted, leaving Yun Zhi feeling both amused and helpless.

The atmosphere at the table was harmonious. Seeing the couple reconciled made Yun Zhi happy as well.

After seeing them off, Yun Zhi finished editing the photos from that rainy night and sent them to Yu Mingxia. The woman was likely busy; it took a long time for her to reply.

Yu Mingxia: [Thank you, they are very beautiful.]

The polite nature of the response made Yun Zhi hesitate to ask about that “Happy Birthday” she thought she heard at the bus stop. After a few brief pleasantries, their conversation ended.

The woman’s profile picture was clean and striking: a single white cloud in a vast blue sky. Her “Moments” feed was equally minimalist—only three days were visible. The background image was a lush green palette of trees and a stream; it felt like the very essence of summer.

Summer clouds, summer streams, and green trees. It matches her name quite well.

Yun Zhi had always appreciated beautiful things—in people and in nature alike.

If we ever have a chance encounter again, maybe we could even become friends.

Following the photography exhibition, Yun Zhi gave herself a seven-day vacation and headed to Mian City.

Perhaps because of the confrontation that night, she and Nan Qiao hadn’t been in much contact over the past week. A few times, when Yun Zhi had photos she wanted to share with Nan Qiao, she ended up sending them to Jiang Yan’an and Zhu Qingmeng instead.

After a few rounds of this, her friends noticed the anomaly.

Jiang Yan’an: [The scenery at Yunsan Temple is great lately. Want to go check it out when you’re back?]

When Yun Zhi received this, she had just finished editing her final photo in her hotel room. She saved the file, leaned back in her office chair, and stretched her limbs.

Just as she was about to reply, another link popped up.

Jiang Yan’an: [Here’s the link. You need to book in advance.]

Yun Zhi replied “I’ll take a look” and clicked the link. At the top was a promotional video, and at the bottom was the reservation portal.

Yun Zhi had been to Yunsan Temple once before. At the center of the temple stood a century-old tree. In July and August, it was lush with foliage, and many people went there every year to hang red ribbons and make wishes.

Her last visit had been during the off-season, so the temple had been quiet. Yun Zhi had always wanted to return when it was busy to capture the grandeur of the event.

Calculating her schedule, she booked a slot for the day after tomorrow. She was returning to Yun City tomorrow, and the day after happened to be Saturday.

Jiang Yan’an: [I invited Nan Qiao, too. She said she’ll go if you go.]

Jiang Yan’an: [Why don’t you guys go have some fun?]

Yun Zhi stared at the messages. Having been friends for so many years, Jiang Yan’an understood her well. She could guess that the photos she’d been sending to her friends had all made their way to Nan Qiao.

She wanted to say something, but didn’t know how to phrase it.

The argument that night hadn’t been quiet; Jiang Yan’an had definitely overheard some of it. She was clearly trying to help mend their relationship.

Ultimately, Yun Zhi didn’t explain herself. She simply replied: [I’ve booked it for the day after tomorrow.]

Jiang Yan’an sent back an “OK” sticker, and the phone finally went quiet.

Yun Zhi checked her flight for the next morning. When she switched back to WeChat, she noticed a red notification number on her “Moments” icon.

Did I post something? Why so many notifications?

Confused, she clicked in, only to realize that the reservation link from earlier had automatically shared itself to her Moments. Now, a bunch of friends were asking if she wanted to go together.

Yun Zhi: “…”

This link is a bit too much.

Ten minutes had passed since she “shared” it. After a moment of thought, she deleted the post. She wasn’t in the mood to do a group photoshoot for her contact list.

After arranging her schedule, Yun Zhi logged into her Weibo account and posted a set of landscape photos from her trip. Once the upload was successful, she logged out.

At that moment, her assistant Xiao Bai sent a message.

Xiao Bai: [Sister Yun Zhi, are you coming back soon?]

Yun Zhi: [I’ll arrive tomorrow at noon.]

Xiao Bai: [Good, good.]

Xiao Bai: [I didn’t want to disturb your trip, but since the exhibition, many companies have reached out wanting to collaborate. Sister Mi said you mentioned wanting to change directions. She asked me to see if any of these catch your eye. I’ve emailed the details to you.]

Yun Zhi acknowledged this and opened the email on her laptop.

Xiao Bai continued:

[Sister Mi filtered them. She thinks the most beneficial for us is an entertainment company. The main work would be shooting artists. They have several big-name stars. Working with them would boost your popularity, and the pay is high. But knowing your personality, you’d probably prefer the two fashion companies.]

Yun Zhi skimmed the email. It was packed with company names and profiles. A few familiar names appeared.

She trusted Li Mi’s judgment; the companies selected would definitely align with her tastes. She asked directly: [Which two?]

Xiao Bai: [L&Y and Yi Sheng Lan. I sent the files over.]

Compared to the long-standing Yi Sheng Lan, L&Y’s history was much simpler. Founded eight years ago, it was a brand that had exploded in popularity recently—the brainchild of a founder who had studied in France.

The companies had given them a week to consider.

Xiao Bai: [But are you really going to shoot portraits? As far as I know, you don’t like shooting people.]

Yun Zhi smiled. It was true; in Xiao Bai’s eyes, her work was almost exclusively landscape-focused.

Yun Zhi: [In high school, I mostly shot portraits. If I remember correctly, I shot almost every girl in our school. Some even made it to magazine covers.]

Yun Zhi: [In fact, the first gold award I ever won was in the portrait category.]

Xiao Bai sent a string of exclamation points and stickers to express her shock.

This was expected. Yun Zhi had rarely posted portraits on public platforms in recent years. Back in early university, she still took commission shoots because she still had the interest. Later, some things happened, and her interest waned. She turned her love toward the scenery of the outside world instead.

After the surprise wore off, Xiao Bai left Yun Zhi to her thoughts, telling her to take her time deciding which company to partner with.

Exiting the chat with Xiao Bai, Yun Zhi saw that Nan Qiao had messaged her three minutes ago. She asked when they could meet, and…

Nan Qiao: [It’s July. Qiaoqiao needs new photos.]

Seeing this, Yun Zhi suddenly remembered what Nan Qiao had said to comfort her during their senior year of high school.

—”I’ll be your model forever, and you’ll be my photographer forever, okay?”

Over the years, even though she rarely shot portraits anymore, she still regularly took photos of Nan Qiao. That sentence was like a promise, an unspoken understanding between them.

Sometimes, no matter how angry she wanted to be, she would soften as soon as she remembered that promise.

Her frustration from a few days ago dissipated by half. Wouldn’t it be too unfair to sentence someone to death just because they rejected you once?

Yun Zhi let out a long breath and replied: [Do you actually have time? Don’t stand me up again.]

Nan Qiao replied quickly:

[I have time! I’ve already confirmed it. No work on Saturday. I can spend the whole day with you.]

Based on years of experience, Yun Zhi was skeptical, but in the end, she chose to believe her.