Chapter 93: Wishing Never to Meet Her Again

“Are you taking out your unhappiness on me? You little rascal, you could use a good spanking! I’m hanging up. Tomorrow, once your parents head off to work, come back home. I’ll make all your favorite dishes.”

Staring at the disconnected call, Ji Zhenshi felt even more depressed.

She’d heard of birthday dinners being prepared early, but never one that came with a makeup batch.

Why did her life feel so utterly tragic?

Her wife was gone, her grandma had turned traitor, and even the longevity noodles had turned into lumps.

It was Ji Zhenshi’s most stifling birthday ever. In a final act of stubborn defiance, she refused to clear the table or call Li Yunli. Instead, she returned to her room and went back to sleep.

No one knew that on this silent night, a slender figure lingered downstairs until the light finally went out before reluctantly tearing her gaze away.

Why was she going to bed so early tonight?

Was she planning to head out again?

Li Yunli considered all sorts of possibilities, but from her spot, even if Ji Zhenshi came outside, she wouldn’t be visible. So Li Yunli made no move to shift her position.

Lowering her eyes, she lit up her phone screen and deliberately waited a few minutes. Only when the exact time of Ji Zhenshi’s birth arrived did she send her the message: Happy Birthday, Xiao Zhen at 23.

It was the seventh birthday she’d spent with her. Seven years felt so short—like so much had happened, yet here they were, back at the starting point.

Her text went unanswered. Had Ji Zhenshi fallen asleep, or had she seen it and chosen to ignore it?

Li Yunli ran through possibility after possibility. Dressed in her apricot-colored long skirt, with her calves covered in countless mosquito bites, she stubbornly stood downstairs. She was nearly obsessive in her need to experience firsthand the agony Ji Zhenshi must have felt waiting seven hours outside the coffee shop.

She was doing this willingly. She was courting her own misery. Either way, it was fine.

After all, this was how the two of them tortured each other—awkward and twisted, beginning with Yang Ying and heading toward no end or resolution.

She hoped their separate paths might converge again someday, so they could reminisce about the road that had brought them here.

Li Yunli, what will you be thinking during these seven hours?

Will you regret this needless, self-righteous behavior that seems so pointless in Ji Zhenshi’s eyes? Or regret not having the courage Ji Zhenshi showed to seize hold of the other person? Or perhaps regret not personally handing that bowl of longevity noodles to Ji Zhenshi and simply sitting with her in silence until it was finished?

Truth be told, Li Yunli wasn’t even sure if what she was doing was right. She simply wanted Xiao Zhen to have it a little better—to face less pressure, to be happier as she pursued the things she truly loved.

Fine. Let worldly conventions win.

Fine. Happy Birthday, Xiao Zhen.

Li Yunli stood there for ages, but Ji Zhenshi never replied. Finally, she couldn’t hold back any longer and dialed her number.

She knew Ji Zhenshi’s temperament. She had to say it aloud: Happy Birthday.

“Hello.” Ji Zhenshi’s voice sounded like she’d been roused from deep sleep, husky with thick displeasure.

Li Yunli’s breathing grew soft and careful. “Xiao Zhen, are you having a good time today?”

Normally, she’d gather with friends for lunch, then drop by the coffee shop in the evening.

Not this year. She’d come back in the afternoon and hadn’t left the house since.

A rustling came through the receiver, followed by Ji Zhenshi’s voice—heavy and lazy. “Are you deliberately calling to rub it in?”

Her tone carried clear displeasure, cold and biting.

Li Yunli froze at the odd attitude. In a gentle voice, she said, “I just wanted to say… Happy Birthday.”

“Oh. Anything else? If not, I’m hanging up.” Ji Zhenshi sounded impatient.

“I…” Li Yunli was caught off guard by the response. Her gaze dimmed as she glanced toward the window. She feared Ji Zhenshi might hang up abruptly, yet a thousand words tangled in her throat with none ready to emerge.

In that moment, she truly regretted choosing what she thought was best for her.

“I want… to ask what wish Xiao Zhen made for her birthday today?” After agonizing hesitation, Li Yunli managed only this abrupt, forced attempt to keep the conversation going.

She just wanted to hear Ji Zhenshi’s voice a little longer.

The neighborhood echoed only with cicadas, but Li Yunli didn’t miss even the slightest breath from the receiver.

Had she truly been meddlesome and arrogant?

Ji Zhenshi ground her molars. She really had no defenses against her. The moment Li Yunli softened, all the day-and-night torment vanished from her mind.

With a cold huff, she replied, “I wished never to meet someone next life who hesitates, acts self-righteous to ‘help’ others, and makes choices for them.”

Not a single word named Li Yunli, yet every one struck at her core.

She was blaming Li Yunli. She was sulking.

A cold wind scraped across her heart, leaving echoes of unrelenting pain. Li Yunli’s eyes reddened slightly. It took several seconds to steady her ragged breathing before she forced a smile strained to its limit. “Then I hope Xiao Zhen gets exactly what she wished for.”

Li Yunli, why do you keep tormenting yourself like this?

Doesn’t your heart ache? Don’t you feel lonely standing downstairs?

“Oh.” A lazy acknowledgment, laced with a faint, cold laugh.

Ji Zhenshi had her pride. When humble pleading failed, she’d grit her teeth and endure half a year without seeking Li Yunli out.

She’d bottled this resentment for so long. Without a way to save face, she’d keep holding it in—no one reaching out to the other.

If anyone said Li Yunli had won, then she truly had.

Li Yunli tried to prevent too much silence from falling between them. She feared Ji Zhenshi might hang up in a fit of anger. So she pressed on. “What did you do for your birthday today?”

Ji Zhenshi’s voice rose playfully at the end. “The bar, of course. Fastest way to meet a new flame. I’m only twenty-three—surely I’m not supposed to crash after one breakup? I need to taste love at the best age of my life. Rest assured, I’m doing great. I won’t touch your card either. Everything you hoped for has come true. Thanks for letting go despite the pain—it’s paved the way for my glorious life.”

The lies spilled effortlessly. Ji Zhenshi stabbed mercilessly at the softest spots, then rubbed salt in the wounds.

For Li Yunli, it was torture straight from hell. She’d paid dearly for her own ruthlessness, and these few words were enough to shatter the last of her defenses.

After a pause, Li Yunli clamped a hand over the receiver. A faint, trembling sound escaped her throat, betraying her inner anguish.

Her head dipped low. Finally, a suppressed, broken whisper overflowed.

She’d only asked two questions, and Ji Zhenshi’s answers had been nothing but knives.

“You’re blaming me.”

“Yes.”

Ji Zhenshi’s unhesitating reply sent a tremor through Li Yunli’s heart.

“Anything else? I’m sleepy. If not, I’m hanging up.” Ji Zhenshi seemed to have lost all patience with her. In just a few exchanges, she’d mentioned ending the call twice.

She truly feared one more second would give her away.

Li Yunli’s hair fell in disarray. Her soft lips pressed tightly together. “Have you found a new girlfriend?”

Was it that woman from the bar, the one they’d been undressing with?

Ji Zhenshi’s laugh carried through the phone, but her next words cut deep. “You don’t want me anymore—why do you care if I have a girlfriend? Manager Li, don’t you think you’re being too nosy?”

“You’ve overstepped. You’re invading my privacy.”

Ji Zhenshi didn’t answer directly, but her words wounded just the same.

She had no idea Li Yunli stood right downstairs. She didn’t know the torment and agony churning inside her—or the regret born from pain pushed to its limit.

Forcibly excised from her life, tears slipped silently down Li Yunli’s cheeks.

Every word pierced the heart, leaving no mercy.

“I’m sorry,” Li Yunli said.

“Sorry for not wanting me, or sorry for meddling?” Ji Zhenshi asked pointlessly.

Before Li Yunli could respond, Ji Zhenshi continued. “Never mind. Suddenly, the answer doesn’t seem so important. Hanging up. Good night.”

It might have been better if Li Yunli couldn’t speak—at least then, this exchange wouldn’t have inflicted a thousand wounds on the enemy at the cost of a thousand on herself.

Li Yunli set the phone down in a daze, her body finally giving out as she sank into a squat.

She hugged her knees, looking so fragile she might topple with the slightest breeze.

Even in the night, her broken sobs couldn’t reach Ji Zhenshi’s ears.

They tortured each other this way precisely because they both knew the other’s favoritism made such recklessness possible.

Ji Zhenshi, Happy Birthday. I hope your wish comes true in this lifetime—not the next.

After all, fulfilling it in the next life would mean never meeting Li Yunli at all.

……….

Coffee Shop

Zhang Fenglan shuffled into the shop, peering around. Not seeing Li Yunli, she made her way inside unhurriedly.

Xiao Ning spotted her and hurried over. “Hello, ma’am. What would you like to drink? We have special sugar-free coffees. See anything you’d like?”

“I’m not here for coffee. I’m looking for your Manager Li.”

“Oh, she’s out today. May I ask who’s calling?”

“Just tell her it’s her grandma. She’ll know who I am.”

“Oh, hello, Grandma! Manager Li stepped out on an errand. She’ll be back soon. Why don’t you rest here in the shop? I’ll call her for you.”

Just then, Li Yunli parked her car and caught sight of Zhang Fenglan inside. Her face lit up with surprise as she hurried in. “Grandma, what brings you here? Please, have a seat. Let me make you a cup of coffee you can actually drink.”

With that, Li Yunli set down her bag and belongings, ready to wash her hands and prepare the drink.

She’d always said she’d visit the coffee shop when she had time, but this was Zhang Fenglan’s first time coming since the opening. Li Yunli’s delight was plain to see.

Zhang Fenglan’s eyes immediately fell on the document in Li Yunli’s hand—the one stamped with the court’s seal. Her expression grew complicated as she glanced at Li Yunli and caught her arm before she could walk away. “No need. I’m not used to you young folks’ drinks. Don’t trouble yourself, Yunli.”

Li Yunli turned back as Zhang Fenglan held her in place.

Zhang Fenglan looked her up and down. “Yunli, it’s been a while. You’ve gotten so much thinner. I bet it’s from slaving away at the shop without taking proper care of yourself, right? Look at those dark circles—you haven’t been sleeping well, have you?”

Li Yunli had always been slender, but now she was even more so after some time apart.

Both women knew the reasons went beyond just shop work.

Li Yunli looped her arm through Zhang Fenglan’s, affectionate as if she were her own grandmother. “Not at all. This is just my usual weight. It’s been so long since you’ve seen me that it’s creating an illusion, Grandma. I haven’t even had time to visit you, yet here you are, coming all this way.”

No matter how things stood with the Ji family, Li Yunli knew Grandma was different. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have shared Ji Zhenshi’s current address.

And those dark circles unwittingly prodded at the lingering ache in Li Yunli’s heart, catching her off guard.

Last night’s words from Ji Zhenshi still echoed in her ears. She couldn’t pretend she hadn’t heard them, nor could she soothe the dull, lingering pain.

Zhang Fenglan patted the hand clutching her arm. “Yunli, I know how busy you are. I’m just at loose ends and wanted someone to chat with. Why don’t you come stroll around outside with me?”

“Outside? It’s so hot today—too much sun and you might not handle it well.” Li Yunli nodded toward the blazing sun outside. With temperatures over thirty degrees Celsius, she could manage a bit, but Grandma was too old for prolonged exposure.

After a moment’s thought, Li Yunli proposed a compromise. “There’s a new mall nearby with air conditioning. Why don’t we head there? We can shop, and if we get tired, eat inside.”

She’d already guessed Grandma was here for a certain someone—or to say something specific. But it didn’t matter. She was happy to chat.

Zhang Fenglan nodded and, as expected, got to the point. “Sounds good. Mainly, it’s Xiao Zhen’s birthday yesterday, and it’s on the way to pick up a gift for her. You know how she hardly comes home anymore now that she’s grown. I have no clue what she likes these days—I’m terrified she’ll hate whatever I get.”

It was a probe. After saying this, Zhang Fenglan watched Li Yunli’s face closely for a reaction.

Ji Zhenshi had claimed Li Yunli hadn’t even called. But that didn’t fit what Zhang Fenglan knew of her. Even under pressure to break up, Li Yunli couldn’t possibly have erased Ji Zhenshi from her heart.

That was why Zhang Fenglan had rushed over today. Let them bungle the process however—the end result had to be Li Yunli joining their family.

She couldn’t bear to let such a fine woman end up elsewhere. Her grandson was worthless, but her granddaughter… those two had to make it work.

Li Yunli merely nodded gently, her smile warm and seemingly unaffected. “All right. I can help you pick something out, Grandma. I know Xiao Zhen’s tastes pretty well.”

Such a response left Zhang Fenglan struggling to read her intentions.

Li Yunli wasn’t someone easily manipulated. If she didn’t want to be seen through, she could disguise herself effortlessly.

Like now: She knew exactly why Grandma had come, yet she played along, feigning ignorance as she accompanied her to the mall.

“Xiao Zhen isn’t very materialistic and goes with the flow. She doesn’t fixate on life’s little details or crave things like clothes, shoes, or phones. For a gift, I’d recommend violin strings. She’s been playing her violin a lot these past few months—it’s probably about time to replace them. The brand she uses isn’t sold on this street, but I can go with you to get some.”

Li Yunli supported Zhang Fenglan’s arm, her suggestion thoughtful.

See? She kept track of details like that. How could she not care?

Ji Zhenshi’s desires were minimal. If she’d ever truly craved something with fierce intensity, it had been one thing only: Li Yunli.

Zhang Fenglan’s heart ached for them both as she listened. “All right. If you say so, I trust you.”

Li Yunli added, “Anything related to the violin, really—she’d love it.”

At that, Zhang Fenglan sighed. She dropped the subtle hints and spoke plainly. “Yunli, speaking of Xiao Zhen… I think you know why I’m here. I’ve watched you two this past half year. I figured with how steady and thoughtful you are, I’d stay out of it. But now I see you’re both still so young.”

Li Yunli appeared mature and measured, weighing every decision carefully. But don’t forget—she’d spent a full six years unaware of her own feelings for Ji Zhenshi.

Emotionally, she was a blank slate. She’d only ever wanted the best for Ji Zhenshi, considering every optimal path—except the one that was truly best for their relationship.

Few people could see through Li Yunli’s thoughts or speak to her heart, offering advice from experience. Her decision made perfect sense given her personality.