Chapter 63: Have You Ever Liked Me?

Wen Wan Ning took a deep breath and said nothing more.

A gentle breeze brushed past, lifting the strands of hair at her temples and scattering the slight dampness at the corners of her eyes.

She simply sat there quietly, gazing at Shen Jia Yan, as if savoring the words she had just spoken aloud, or perhaps waiting for what Shen Jia Yan would say next.

And Shen Jia Yan was looking at her too.

Her gaze fell on Wen Wan Ning’s slightly lowered lashes, on the corners of her lips that were gently pursed, on the fingers holding the tulips…

Shen Jia Yan spoke softly, her voice low and tender. “Wan Ning, actually, today, besides coming to give you your birthday gift, there’s one other thing.”

Wen Wan Ning’s heart skipped a beat, as if it had suddenly plummeted from midair, her breathing tightening.

She lowered her head to look at the red tulips in her hands. There were still a few drops of dew on the petals that hadn’t dried yet. When the night breeze blew, they slid down along the veins of the petals and dripped onto her fingertips, chilling her to the bone.

She didn’t interrupt her, nor did she look up. She merely let out a soft “mm.”

“Wan Ning,” Shen Jia Yan took a deep breath, looking at her with clear, earnest eyes, as if she were laying her heart bare and offering it right in front of her.

“Our first meeting in the first year of high school,” she began slowly, her voice gentle yet carrying a restrained tremor, “your soft, gentle voice has lingered in my memory ever since, always bringing it back to mind.”

She paused, her gaze seeming to pierce through time, returning to that afternoon when the sunlight was just right and the breeze was gentle. “Later, we became deskmates. You stood by my side, sunlight falling on your profile. You looked at me and smiled, saying, ‘Hello, new deskmate. I’m Wen Wan Ning.'”

She looked at her, her eyes shimmering with light, finally able to confess that long-buried flutter of her heart. “From that moment on, I knew that this person—I might like her for a very, very long time.”

Wen Wan Ning stared at her in a daze, her eyes reddening slightly, but she said nothing.

Shen Jia Yan continued softly, her tone still gentle, yet laced with an unmistakable depth of affection. “Your thoughtfulness, your gentleness, your care, your kindness, your smile—they all made my heart race.”

“I started to steal glances at you, unable to help but remember everything about you.”

She lowered her head to look at her own hands, as if she could still feel the heartbeat from those stolen glances back then.

“The way your brows furrowed slightly when you were writing, the way your shoulders swayed gently when you listened to music, the way your lips pressed into a thin line when you were upset…”

“Every version of you, I remember.”

She lifted her head, her gaze firm as she mustered her courage, laying her truest self bare before Wen Wan Ning. “I like you—not from some specific day, but from a very, very long time ago. It started quietly.”

She looked at Wen Wan Ning, her voice soft yet carrying an undeniable resolve. “I want you to know that this isn’t a spur-of-the-moment impulse or a fleeting fancy. I truly want to walk a very long road with you.”

“I want to hold you when you’re sad, laugh with you when you’re happy, and be your support when you’re tired…”

“Wan Ning, I like you. I really, really like you.”

“So, Wan Ning, can you give me a place by your side, one that lets me stay with you always?”

She said no more, simply looking at her quietly, waiting for her response.

The night breeze blew gently, and the fragrance of the tulips wafted softly between them.

Wen Wan Ning stood in place, a familiar dull ache throbbing in her chest, as if something soft was gently battering against it bit by bit.

She bit her lower lip to hold back, forcing the tears that were about to spill over to stay put. She took a deep breath and, under the cover of the night, composed her emotions.

She looked up at Shen Jia Yan, forcing a smile onto her lips with difficulty. “Sorry, did I make you misunderstand?” The smile was strained, leaving a final shred of dignity for both of them. “I only see you as a good friend, Yan Yan.”

Shen Jia Yan froze.

In that moment, it felt as if the entire world had gone silent.

Her heart felt gripped tightly by something, then slowly released, leaving behind an empty, aching void—so painful, so painful…

“Ah? You… I…” A hoarse voice squeezed from deep in her throat, trembling with disbelief.

A dull pain surged in Wen Wan Ning’s chest, as if something was tearing at her emotions bit by bit. “Sorry, Yan Yan. If I did something that made you misunderstand, I apologize to you.”

Misunderstanding? Apologize?

Those two words were like a knife, slicing gently across Shen Jia Yan’s long-hidden affection, drawing blood that flowed endlessly yet silently.

Shen Jia Yan finally couldn’t hold back. She forced a bitter smile, her eyes filled with bitterness. “So everything that’s happened between us was just my delusion?” Her voice was low, carrying pain suppressed to its limit. “All one-sided, wishful thinking on my part?”

She looked at Wen Wan Ning, as if asking her, or perhaps asking herself.

Wen Wan Ning fell silent, offering no response.

Her gaze avoided Shen Jia Yan’s, afraid that if their eyes met, it would reveal the emotions she had buried too deeply.

“You said to give you some time,” Shen Jia Yan suddenly spoke up, her voice choked with more sobs, like grasping at a lifeline in desperation, or perhaps making one final struggle.

“Was that… just an excuse to reject me too?” Her voice trembled, like a candle flame flickering in the wind, on the verge of extinguishing.

Wen Wan Ning’s nails dug deep into her palm. She steadied herself and parted her lips coldly. “Yes.”

Shen Jia Yan jolted as if struck, feeling like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over her from head to toe.

“W-What?” Her heart skipped a beat, her eyes suddenly reddening.

“When I said ‘give me some time’ back then, it was because I didn’t know how to reject you outright. I didn’t want to hurt you too deeply.” She paused, then continued softly, “I was greedy for your kindness toward me, greedy for that warm, enveloping feeling when you were close. I couldn’t bear to push you away. Sorry, it was my fault…”

She spoke slowly, softly, but every word was like a sharp blade, precisely cutting into Shen Jia Yan’s softest spot.

Shen Jia Yan’s face paled bit by bit. She took a step forward, her voice low and urgent, laced with a plea that was on the verge of tears. “I don’t believe you. You must have some unspeakable reason, right? Tell me—we can face it together, okay?”

Wen Wan Ning replied calmly, “I have no unspeakable reason.”

Shen Jia Yan reached out and grabbed the hem of her clothes. “I can keep waiting. It doesn’t matter—however long you need, I can wait.”

Her voice cracked with sobs, yet she stubbornly refused to let the tears fall, using her last bit of strength to try to hold onto the person who was slipping away.

Wen Wan Ning’s heart ached fiercely, as if torn apart by something.

She could only close her eyes, take a deep breath, then open them and look at her, her voice as light as the wind. “Jia Yan, I have a boy I like.”

The night fell into dead silence.

Shen Jia Yan stood there, as if all her strength had been drained.

The breeze blew gently, and her tears finally fell, without a sound.

She didn’t ask “who,” nor did she demand “why.” She simply stood there, letting the tears slide down her cheeks, as if finally accepting some cruel reality.

Her eyes gradually emptied, as if all the light had been sucked away.

She looked down at her hand still hovering in midair, her fingertips trembling slightly, still holding the lingering sensation of grasping Wen Wan Ning’s hem.

She gave a self-mocking smile. “So, I’ve already lost even the right to wait.”

Wen Wan Ning watched her, a flicker of reluctance finally appearing in her eyes, yet she remained unmoved.

She offered no explanation, no denial, simply saying softly once more, “Sorry.”

Shen Jia Yan clung to her last shred of sanity and asked softly, “Do you still remember the condition I won by solving the Rubik’s Cube?”

Wen Wan Ning paused slightly, a flash of pain in her eyes, but she still softly murmured “mm.”

Back then, Shen Jia Yan had practiced for so long to win that condition. At that time, they had laughed so genuinely, so closely, close enough to almost touch each other’s heartbeats.

Shen Jia Yan tilted her head to look at the darkening sky, her voice so soft it was like murmuring to herself. “I want an answer.” She slowly withdrew her gaze, looking deeply and earnestly into Wen Wan Ning’s eyes. “Have you ever liked me?”

She didn’t know the meaning of asking this question, but she stubbornly voiced it anyway.

She didn’t want evasions or consolations.

She just wanted to know—in those moments when she thought they were drawing closer, in those nights when she believed their hearts aligned, in those times when she thought they could walk toward a future together…

Had there ever been even an instant when Wen Wan Ning had liked her too?

The night breeze blew gently, tousling her hair and scattering her last bit of courage.

Wen Wan Ning looked at her, her gaze wavering, her lips trembling slightly, but in the end, she didn’t answer immediately.

She knew how deeply her answer would hurt her.

She also knew that this question might become a regret she could never make up for in her lifetime.

She parted her lips, her voice faint as if coming from afar. “Jia Yan…”

Shen Jia Yan didn’t wait for her to continue.

She closed her eyes and took a gentle breath, as if pressing the last flicker of hope and illusion in her eyes deep into the bottom of her heart.

Then, she opened her eyes, her gaze no longer clinging.

She smiled, the corners of her mouth curving in a bitter arc, her voice hoarse. “I understand.”

She asked no more, demanded no more.

She took a gentle step back, as if finally letting go of something, her voice tender yet resolute. “Wan Ning, happy birthday. I hope you find happiness.”

She said it softly, like a farewell, like a blessing, more like tucking her final affection quietly into a gentle “blessing.”

Wen Wan Ning stood in place, hearing the snap of the final thread between them breaking.

She watched Shen Jia Yan turn and walk into the night, step by step, resolute and thorough.

The night breeze blew gently, scattering the last trace of warmth between them.

Wen Wan Ning stood there, gazing longingly at her receding figure until it vanished at the end of the streetlamp’s glow. Finally, she couldn’t hold back, and tears fell silently.

She murmured softly, as if to the night breeze, or to her past self, “Yan Yan, sorry.”