Chapter 13

Ding Ya’s phone call came so suddenly that it made her earlier polite question seem a bit redundant.

It didn’t give Shu Chi any time to react. Shu Chi didn’t even know why she was flustered, especially after enduring so much over the years.

There shouldn’t be anything that could provoke such an overreaction from her anymore.

The woman on the other end said, “Shu Chi, I’m off work.”

Shu Chi hummed in acknowledgment, walked out of her room, and stood on the balcony, looking out.

It was bitingly cold outside. The weather forecast even mentioned a recent blizzard. Even now, just the howling cold wind was cold enough.

Ding Ya took a sharp breath of cold air and said, “But I haven’t reached my apartment complex yet, so I thought I’d give you a call.”

Shu Chi seemed to have little reaction. Someone else might have thought this was a pointless, one-sided effort.

But Ding Ya had picked up a habit from many years ago. Back then, when she called this person, she never expected to hear Shu Chi speak either.

After all, Shu Chi had to pretend to be a man.

She also found it strange. Why hadn’t Shu Chi used a voice changer back then?

Ding Ya’s memories drifted to Shu Chi’s various colored diamonds and membership badges. She felt this person’s generosity had its own particular focus.

Besides, voice changers didn’t sound good anyway.

In the past, during voice calls, what she paid attention to were the occasional sounds from the other side—the rustle of headphone wires picked up by the microphone, the clink of a cup…

That silence itself became a deliberate empty space, enough for Ding Ya to let her imagination run wild back then, building up her image of this person in her mind.

Ding Ya asked again, “If you didn’t want to, why did you answer my call? What are you up to? These past few days, I’ve been in contact with Little Lin at your company. He said you’re on a business trip.”

She kicked at the curb and couldn’t help adding, “Where did you go?”

Even after adding Shu Chi on WeChat, Ding Ya hadn’t pestered her constantly.

Shu Chi’s WeChat Moments didn’t have a time-restriction setting, making it easy to scroll back to old remnants. The scattered posts went back almost to when she first opened the account.

But Shu Chi posted very little, just as tight-lipped as she seemed.

After she started her business, she began posting more content than before, though it was almost all work-related. The most recent one was a photo of a factory.

Shu Chi replied, “To the factory workshop.”

Her hand rested on the balcony railing.

This new development wasn’t fully occupied yet, but there were a few scattered residents across the way. At night, their lights would mingle with the myriad lights of the city in the distance, becoming a part of the urban nightscape.

Ding Ya chuckled. “So the boss is this busy too? Have you eaten? I’m about to go buy some grilled cold noodles.”

Shu Chi said, “Just eating.”

Ding Ya let out a long “Oh.” “Then I’m disturbing you.”

Her tone held absolutely no trace of embarrassment. Instead, she pushed further. “What are you eating? Are you home alone?”

Shu Chi couldn’t help but let her lips curl up slightly, affected by the other’s lightheartedness. Her voice mingled with the sound of the wind. “Crab, with friends.”

Ding Ya had exited the subway station. The wind outside slapped her full in the face.

She didn’t have to work overtime today. Ying Qixin was still at the company, but when Ding Ya went downstairs, she saw Ying Qixin’s boyfriend had arrived.

Ding Ya hadn’t felt envious before. But today, with the cold weather, plus someone having taken her lunch delivery at noon—she’d only eaten a small bread roll—various emotions welled up. A sense of envy surfaced, one she hadn’t felt in a long time. She sniffled and asked, “Friends? Like a girlfriend or a boyfriend?”

She hissed a breath of cold air, the wind’s howl traveling right into Shu Chi’s ear.

Shu Chi’s voice was like the wind, like the northerly winter wind full of sand, yet Ding Ya felt she was simply unskilled at handling her.

It was the same back then, and it was the same now.

“You’ve met them.”

Shu Chi didn’t know how to explain. Only after she spoke did she realize she had actually responded to Ding Ya’s teasing.

As if she hadn’t noticed, Ding Ya laughed. “Boss Jing and the great beauty Mu Ling. You’re so lucky.”

Something about that sentence felt a bit odd. Shu Chi asked, “Why do you say that?”

Ding Ya’s tone was exceedingly light. “Your friends are all so beautiful, pleasing to the eye. Not like me. It’d be great if I were a great beauty like them.”

Jing Yuqi could be considered a radiant, striking beauty. Mu Ling, though not tall, also carried herself with an imposing aura.

During that photoshoot, Ding Ya had truly experienced the difference between professional models and ordinary people.

Mu Ling’s identity wasn’t limited to modeling; she was also a minor actress.

It was just that rich girls lacked nothing, and acting was just a bit of fun for her.

Ding Ya’s family situation was decent, but only decent relative to a small town. Compared to a true second-generation rich kid, there was still a gap.

Shu Chi was a self-made woman who had climbed up step by step. Yet, standing beside such people, she showed no stage fright, even meeting the photographer’s requirements perfectly.

Ding Ya’s tone showed no trace of inferiority complex, just an open, frank kind of admiration.

Shu Chi pursed her lips, thinking of Ding Ya’s appearance—round face, big eyes, a lively, cunning quality unique to her, and also very bold.

Inviting her to her home so naturally, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

It was a type Shu Chi had never encountered before.

And ironically, Shu Chi felt Ding Ya resembled the kind of person she had once believed she’d loved.

“You’re very beautiful too.”

Clutching her phone, Shu Chi’s slender fingers touched a green plant leaf on the balcony.

Unfortunately, the plant wasn’t growing very well. She had no talent for growing ornamental flowers, though she was quite adept at growing scallions and garlic.

Ding Ya laughed. “So you know how to compliment people. I’ll be floating away soon.”

Even her laughter sounded lovely.

Shu Chi didn’t voice the compliment aloud, silently approving in her heart.

Ding Ya seemed to arrive at a bustling area. “I’m going to buy my grilled cold noodles. Gotta buy it and hurry back to check on the little dog. Watching the surveillance camera feed on my phone during the day, the kid’s pretty naughty.”

“I won’t bother you then. Bye-bye.”

Her tone showed no sadness at Shu Chi’s coolness. She still sounded happy.

“Ding Ya.”

Shu Chi called out.

Ding Ya: “Hmm?”

She seemed to have already reached the grilled cold noodles stall, simultaneously telling the vendor what to add and asking Shu Chi, “What is it?”

A phone call could only transmit voices, but at this moment, Shu Chi felt as if she could already see Ding Ya.

It also felt as if they were very close.

Shu Chi said, “Wear more clothes. It’s going to snow.”

The balcony was also very cold. Shu Chi pursed her lips.

Ding Ya hummed in agreement. The ending of her three-word “Okay, I know” was drawn out, sweet and long, making Shu Chi’s originally serious concern seem to alter its flavor. Even the grilled cold noodles vendor misinterpreted it. “Got a boyfriend?”

The vendor was a slightly heavyset auntie. Ding Ya came here occasionally to buy grilled cold noodles.

Ding Ya was already easily recognizable, and her big, bright, dewy eyes made an excellent first impression.

Asked this, Ding Ya didn’t deny it. She smiled and said, “Yeah.”

Shu Chi hung up the phone.

She touched her own forehead and ears. They were a bit hot.

I shouldn’t.

I cannot.

At least, I cannot let my heart stir in other directions just because Ding Ya slightly resembles that person.

That would be utterly despicable.

Ding Ya watched her phone lock screen return to its initial interface after the call ended, a slightly intrigued smile playing on her lips.

The vendor was still chatting with her. “When did you start dating? When you came to eat here last week, you didn’t have one, right?”

Ding Ya pointed at the toppings she wanted to add and said, “We dated before, then broke up.”

The vendor said, “Oh! Getting back together isn’t easy either.”

Ding Ya lowered her head and glanced at her lock screen. It had switched back to her original one, as if what Shu Chi saw that day was just a limited-time thing.

Meeting her again is truly not easy for me either.

The weather is so cold, but the air feels so hot.

I want her so badly.

When Shu Chi came out of her bedroom, the little friend eating dinner was telling her birth mother and the beautiful auntie about Shu Chi’s crush—

“Auntie Shu Chi said the person she likes is very cute!”

Jing Yuqi was laughing uncontrollably. “Sweetie, you’ve said that many times already.”

Xiaohu nibbled on a crab claw and said, “But I’m also very cute, and Auntie Shu Chi doesn’t like me.”

Seeing Shu Chi walking over, she shouted, “Does Auntie Shu Chi like Xiaohu?!”

Kids love referring to themselves by name; the children of Shu Chi’s two older sisters back home were the same.

Shu Chi washed her hands and sat back down, nodding.

Xiaohu then asked, “Does Auntie Shu Chi like me a little more, or like Little Xie a little more?”

Little Xie was Yu Xinyi’s daughter. The two kids were the same age and went to the same school.

Only, Little Xie had poor health, regularly shuttling between home and hospital.

Jing Yuqi was dying of laughter, her tone laced with a hint of jealousy. “Still competing for favor? Shu Chi, why does all your romantic luck end up on little kids?”

Shu Chi poured herself a glass of wine and corrected her. “This isn’t romantic luck.”

Xiaohu yelled, “Don’t dodge the question!”

Shu Chi’s wine glass clinked against the milk in the kid’s goblet. “Since Xiaohu is here, of course I like Xiaohu more right now.”

The kid snorted a couple of times. “Auntie Shu Chi is so sly.”

Her face was seventy percent like Jing Yuqi’s. The way her eyes darted around, Shu Chi knew she was up to some mischief.

Sure enough, before Shu Chi could eat a single bite of food, Xiaohu asked again, “Was Auntie Shu Chi on the phone with a girlfriend just now?”

Shu Chi put down her chopsticks and looked helplessly at Jing Yuqi. “What kind of ideas are you feeding her every day?”

Jing Yuqi said, “I didn’t! My kid goes to an international bilingual school. She understands the principle that liking someone doesn’t distinguish gender.”

Mu Ling drank her wine morosely, already a bit drunk, and chimed in. “Exactly, exactly.”

Xiaohu clapped for herself.

Shu Chi shook her head. “Not a girlfriend.”

Her attitude towards children was more serious. While Jing Yuqi, as her mother, would sometimes tease Xiaohu, Shu Chi wouldn’t.

That was precisely why she attracted children the most. Every weekend when she rest, Little Xie and Xiaohu both wanted to come over to her place.

Xiaohu’s lips were still smeared with milk. She asked in her coy, childish voice, “Then does Auntie Shu Chi like her?”

She pushed her milk glass over again, wanting to clink glasses with Shu Chi. “That time at the children’s amusement park, when Auntie Shu Chi treated me to… to ice cream!”

Shu Chi: “Hmm?”

Xiaohu looked a little embarrassed and glanced at Jing Yuqi.

Her own mother, who enjoyed drama regardless of age, was still egging her on. “Speak up! Weren’t you talking up a storm earlier when Shu Chi wasn’t here?”

Watching Shu Chi pouring milk for her, Xiaohu said softly, “Auntie Shu Chi said she had a girlfriend she liked very much a long time ago, is that true?”

Kids’ impressions of certain things are often fuzzy, but their memories filter themselves automatically, and they remember some parts with remarkable clarity.

Holding her milk cup, Xiaohu took a sip. “Auntie Shu Chi looked so sad that time.”

Shu Chi paused for a moment, seemingly recalling the children’s amusement park.

That day, after accompanying Xiaohu on the park track ride, the car played songs that were very nostalgic, exactly the ones Shu Chi had once requested for [Bean Sprout].

Music best stirs memories. Certain emotions were awakened, and Shu Chi had been so lost in thought she hadn’t noticed her ice cream melting.

It was the kid who had reminded her.

Shu Chi smiled helplessly. “Wasn’t that our secret?”

Xiaohu made a whimpering sound. “I’m sorry! I’m so bad.”

Her eyes were glistening, looking ready to cry. Shu Chi smiled and said, “It’s okay. There are no outsiders here.”

Her comfort was exceptionally gentle. “Xiaohu still kept our agreement.”

Mu Ling clicked her tongue, suddenly understanding why, when a scumbag had hinted Jing Yuqi and Shu Chi were involved that day, so many people had clamored that Shu Chi was great after Jing Yuqi posted the photo.

She really wasn’t bad.

It was a pity she and Jing Yuqi were both straight as an arrow. This vintage, silent blockhead—who knows what kind of younger girl could handle her.

She looked difficult to crack, but probably quite rewarding.

After all, the first impression Shu Chi gave Mu Ling was of someone with a story.

At this moment, Mu Ling asked directly, “When was the girlfriend from?”

Shu Chi didn’t put on airs. Her face held no special emotion, as if the winds and snow were absorbed into her. Only the slight curve of her lips represented her old love from years past. “It’s been about ten years, too.”

Mu Ling let out an “Ah?” “That long? You dated ten years ago, or you broke up ten years ago?”

Shu Chi answered calmly, “We dated ten years ago. I tricked her. I told her I was a man.”