Chapter 101: She Really Likes You

At seven in the evening, Shen Jia Yan arrived at the restaurant where she had agreed to meet Lü Xin.

She followed the server to the door of the reserved private room.

The server knocked on the door.

“Please come in.” Lü Xin’s voice came from inside, steady and familiar.

The server gently pushed open the door to the private room and made a “please” gesture.

Shen Jia Yan walked in.

Lü Xin stood up and looked at the newcomer.

Shen Jia Yan wore a simple black turtleneck sweater with a long, dark gray coat over it. Her hair ends casually fell on her shoulders. Though she lacked the flamboyant stage makeup, she was still stunning. Unlike the youthful sunniness of her student days, she now exuded a cool serenity stripped of ostentation.

“Long time no see, big star,” Lü Xin said with a smile.

Shen Jia Yan tilted her head slightly, her lips curving up. “Long time no see, Prosecutor Lü.”

Lü Xin’s smile deepened a bit. “Let’s skip the polite flattery.” She pointed to the seat across from her. “Have a seat.”

Shen Jia Yan took off her coat, draped it neatly, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

Lü Xin handed her a menu, then picked up her own and flipped it open. “What do you want to eat?”

Shen Jia Yan set the menu aside. “I’m fine with anything. You order.”

“Alright.” Lü Xin pressed the bell to summon the server.

The two had a pleasant meal, reminiscing about fun times from their school days and experiences after entering the workforce.

Lü Xin didn’t bring up Wen Wan Ning during the meal.

She could tell Shen Jia Yan cared deeply about her. Otherwise, the moment she learned of her hospitalization yesterday, her voice wouldn’t have changed. Lü Xin had clearly heard the tension in it—the words “How could this happen?” carried an uncontrollable tremor, like a string stretched to its limit, ready to snap at any moment.

As a classmate and friend, she felt sorry for her too.

From the moment she entered, Lü Xin could see she wasn’t in great shape. Despite the light makeup, it couldn’t fully mask her fatigue.

She decided to let her enjoy a good meal first before talking about Wan Ning.

After the meal, the server cleared the dishes, leaving only the curling aroma of tea in the private room.

Outside, night had deepened, and the city’s lights spilled like a river of stars.

Shen Jia Yan set down her teacup. Her fingertips unconsciously rubbed the rim. Finally, she voiced the question she’d held back through the entire meal. “How is Wan Ning?”

Lü Xin looked at her, her gaze softening. “The doctor said her stomach didn’t perforate, but the damage is severe. She needs rest. When I visited her today, she was in much better spirits.”

The heart Shen Jia Yan had suspended all day eased a little. She murmured softly, “That’s good.”

“Jia Yan.” Lü Xin called her name gently.

Shen Jia Yan looked up.

Lü Xin held her teacup, speaking earnestly. “I want to tell you that the reason Wan Ning rejected you back then wasn’t because she didn’t like you.”

Shen Jia Yan’s fingertips trembled. The teacup shook slightly in her palm, ripples spreading across the surface.

“What did you say?” Her voice was faint, as if afraid to shatter something—or as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard.

It had been five years.

She had asked herself “why” a thousand times. The answer was always that Wen Wan Ning didn’t like her—that she’d unilaterally mistaken friendship for love.

She’d even believed that line “I like a boy” was the whole truth. Those five light words had severed all possibilities between them.

She’d tormented herself with that answer for five years, weaving it into songs, burying it in the night, simmering it into a chronic illness no one knew about.

Lü Xin looked at her, her eyes free of probing—only filled with heartache and solemnity. “And it wasn’t that she only started liking you now. She liked you back when you liked her.”

Shen Jia Yan froze, as if nailed to the spot by those words.

“Actually, back in high school, she already liked you,” Lü Xin continued, gazing at her. “She doubted herself because of it, agonized over it, and even distanced herself from you for a while.”

Shen Jia Yan’s hand slowly released the teacup, her fingertips ice-cold.

She recalled that period in high school when nothing she said could pique Wen Wan Ning’s interest. Unable to bear the constant awkwardness between them, she’d been the one to first suggest they stop walking home together, giving Wen Wan Ning some space.

She’d wondered if Wen Wan Ning had sensed her special feelings and thus rejected her. But she never imagined it was because Wen Wan Ning had realized her own feelings…

“I’m sorry.” I’ll apologize to you on her behalf. “But I hope you can understand—in the over ten years of her growing up, the first person she liked was a girl. She needed time to process it, to accept herself.”

Shen Jia Yan hurriedly interjected, her voice quivering, as if fearing the words came too late—or weren’t weighty enough. “No need to apologize. Really, I understand. I completely understand.”

Lü Xin smiled with relief. “Actually, it took her a long time to accept herself—from high school graduation until nearly the end of college.”

“There was a time in between when she thought about giving up on those feelings—giving up on you.” Her voice lowered. “During that period, she contacted me frequently, but every time, it was about you.”

Shen Jia Yan’s breathing grew labored, her chest feeling crushed by some heavy weight.

Lü Xin went on. “She was miserable, torn between so-called ‘reality’ and your constant care. To avoid you noticing anything off, she chose to reduce contact with you again.”

“But,” her lips curved slightly, “those days of less contact made her even clearer about her true feelings.”

“She really likes you. She didn’t want to lose you.”

The private room fell so quiet that the drifting tea scent seemed audible. The city’s lights still flowed outside, but Shen Jia Yan’s world seemed to freeze in that instant.

She’d considered the possibility that Wen Wan Ning liked her, but she’d thought it would be fleeting, timid—ultimately crushed by reality.

She’d never dared imagine that the feeling had endured five years, survived no-contact periods and self-denial, refusing to extinguish.

“You know,” Lü Xin sniffled, “one day, Wan Ning told me that when she said ‘give her some time,’ she saw the irrepressible joy and anticipation in your eyes.”

She paused, her fingertips gently rubbing the teacup’s edge, as if steadying her emotions.

“She said that in that moment, she wanted so badly to hold you tight and tell you she wanted to be with you.”

Shen Jia Yan’s eyes widened abruptly, her breath stolen away.

The room was so silent she could hear her own heartbeat—thud after heavy thud, threatening to burst from her chest.

She wanted to say something but didn’t know what.

Lü Xin saw through her and soothed her. “Don’t rush, Jia Yan. Just listen.”

“That wasn’t just a fleeting thought. It was a decision she’d thought through deeply.”

“She said that if she ever told you she ‘liked’ you, it would be the kind unafraid of others’ gazes—the kind ready to face your families together and spend life hand in hand.”

Not hidden, not compromised, not “secretly loving you.” It would be open, upright “being together.”

Shen Jia Yan’s eyes reddened instantly.

She finally understood: Wen Wan Ning hadn’t refused to admit her feelings. She just hadn’t wanted to admit them unprepared.

“So,” Lü Xin sighed, “after telling you ‘give her some time,’ she started trying to communicate with her family.”

“She tried?” Shen Jia Yan’s head snapped up, her voice trembling.

“She did.” Lü Xin nodded gravely. “The first time, she tried talking to her mom. Her mom just coldly said ‘impossible’ and walked away, refusing to discuss it.”

Shen Jia Yan’s fingers dug into her palm, numb with pain.

She knew Wen Wan Ning had always been the obedient, sensible daughter—the parents’ pride. The courage it must have taken to step forward…

“The second time,” Lü Xin continued, her voice heavier, “she went to her dad. He straight-up told her the reason her cousin Su Fang Yu had been kicked out by their grandfather.”

“Back then, Wan Ning only knew Su Fang Yu had clashed with her grandpa, who forbade him from coming home. No one in the family mentioned why. Until the day she came out to her dad—he told her Su Fang Yu had been exiled for liking someone of the same sex. So he wouldn’t accept Wan Ning liking the same sex either.”

Shen Jia Yan’s heart plummeted.

“But she didn’t give up.” Lü Xin looked at her, eyes full of heartache for Wen Wan Ning. “She started seeing a psychologist, learning how to communicate with her family; gathering data on mutual same-sex attraction; interpretations from professional experts on homosexuality…”

“When she brought all that material to her grandfather, she didn’t even get a chance to open it before he tossed it aside.”

Shen Jia Yan felt her heart wrench together, pain so intense she could barely breathe. Tears fell uncontrollably.

Lü Xin grabbed some tissues and sat beside her.

She handed them over. “Jia Yan, I’ve never seen Wan Ning work so hard for one thing, one person. I really feel for her.”

Shen Jia Yan took the tissue, her fingers shaking, but she didn’t wipe her tears. She just clutched it like her last shred of strength.

Lü Xin paused, then continued. “None of that broke her—until…”

Shen Jia Yan looked up, her breath catching.

“Until one day, her grandfather told her he’d investigated your family situation and knew your parents’ jobs.” She paused. “He threatened Wan Ning that if she kept pushing, he’d spread the news of you liking the same sex in your parents’ work environment.”

Shen Jia Yan’s eyes flew wide, as if struck by a sledgehammer to the chest.

“You know how much that would impact your parents’ jobs,” Lü Xin said softly, like a dull knife slowly slicing through Shen Jia Yan’s understanding.

Of course she knew.

Her parents both worked in government positions. Their names, roles, lives—all under public scrutiny.

If “daughter is gay” got maliciously spread and twisted, their lifelong dignity and propriety would shatter overnight.

And it would all trace back to her.

Shen Jia Yan’s fingers dug deeper into her palm, nails biting into flesh, but she felt no pain.

She only felt a bone-deep chill—the abyss Wen Wan Ning had borne alone, the sacrifice she’d never known.

“So,” Lü Xin said gently, “Wan Ning chose to compromise. She gave up on the relationship—gave up on you.”

“But, Jia Yan,” her voice choked, “Wan Ning really tried her best. She did everything she could—and even things she couldn’t.”