Chapter 96: Will You Still Be There the Moment I Turn Around…

Back at Chuze Studio in North City.

Lin Che sidled up to Shen Jia Yan with a mischievous grin. “I heard you didn’t stay at the hotel last night. Where’d you go?”

Shen Jia Yan turned to look at Chu Nian.

Chu Nian was poking furiously at her phone, pretending the signal was bad, mumbling under her breath, “Ugh, this crappy connection… why won’t it load…”

“I went to see a friend,” Shen Jia Yan said, withdrawing her gaze, her tone calm.

“Ooh~~~” Lin Che drew out the sound, his eyebrows wiggling wildly. “What kind of friend keeps you out all night?”

Shen Jia Yan shot him a glare. “Gossipy.”

Lin Che pouted but didn’t press further.

A sudden pattering sound came from outside the window.

Raindrops pelted the glass densely, like countless tiny fingers tapping insistently.

“Is this rain following us around?” Wu Lin said helplessly, looking up at the window. “It rained while we were performing outdoors yesterday, and now that we’re back in North City, it’s raining again.”

Shen Jia Yan slowly walked to the window, her thoughts drifting unconsciously to Wen Wan Ning.

She wondered when she would return. Her fever had just broken; she couldn’t get caught in the rain again…

She stared at the gray sky outside, her fingers absently tracing the window frame, as if counting the rhythm of the falling raindrops.

Chu Nian keenly noticed the shift in Shen Jia Yan’s mood and “thoughtfully” sent a quiet message to Wen Wan Ning: [Wan Ning jie, we’ve made it back to the studio. Are you coming back today? It’s raining in North City, so be careful if you’re heading this way.]

She had always been perceptive—that was why Shen Jia Yan had chosen her as her assistant. She could spot the slightest emotional fluctuation: a slight furrow of the brow, a moment of silence…

The message had barely gone out when her phone vibrated with Wen Wan Ning’s reply: [Glad you all made it safely. We’ll head back this evening. Thanks for the heads-up. Tell Jia Yan to bring an umbrella if she goes out—don’t get wet.]

[Got it. (silly laugh.jpg)]

After replying, Chu Nian walked casually over to Shen Jia Yan, her tone light but carrying a subtle probe. “Jia Yan jie, Lawyer Wen just messaged me. They’re coming back to North City this evening. I mentioned the rain here and told her to be careful.”

Shen Jia Yan turned slowly, her gaze landing on Chu Nian’s face. “Why would Lawyer Wen message you about when they’re coming back?”

“Uh…” Chu Nian’s eyes darted away. “I messaged Lawyer Wen first to let her know we’d arrived safely in North City.”

“You—” Shen Jia Yan started to say, her brows furrowing slightly.

“It was just politeness,” Chu Nian interrupted quickly, flashing a professional smile.

“Chu Nian.” Shen Jia Yan sighed. “Don’t waste your energy on us.”

She could tell Chu Nian was trying to play matchmaker.

She wasn’t annoyed—just tired.

Tired of her retreat five years ago, tired of the probing after their reunion, and even more tired of having to deny her own heart in the face of others’ eager expectations.

“She doesn’t like me,” Shen Jia Yan said, gazing at the endless rain outside, her voice low and hoarse, as if convincing herself. “And I don’t have any obsession about being with her…”

“But Jia Yan jie—” Chu Nian couldn’t help stepping forward, urgency in her voice.

“Enough.” Shen Jia Yan raised a hand to cut her off, her tone calm but firm with distance. “I need to prepare. Rehearsal soon.”

She turned and headed to the break room, her back straight and steps steady. But Chu Nian could clearly see her fingertips pale as she gripped her phone tightly, like clutching something on the verge of slipping away.

That wasn’t acceptance—it was suppression, retreat.

She could sense that Wen Wan Ning didn’t dislike Shen Jia Yan the way she claimed.

If she did, why go watch her performance on purpose? Why show such fondness and longing when she cared for her, feeding her porridge? Why silently accept and even thank her for the “nudging”?

She didn’t know what had happened between them five years ago, what had turned Shen Jia Yan’s “like” into silent vigil, her “approach” into restrained withdrawal.

But she could feel the rift was deep—deep enough to nail a drummer who roared on stage before thousands to the spot under a gentle gaze, making even her breathing cautious.

Even so, she still believed that as long as they both liked each other, they would end up together.

At nine that evening, Shen Jia Yan emerged from the bathroom and picked up her phone, receiving Wen Wan Ning’s usual “good night” message as expected.

She set the phone down and grabbed the hairdryer.

The hot air roared, her hair whipping in the airflow like her chaotic thoughts. Steam clouded the mirror, blurring her reflection. Staring at that familiar yet strange face, she suddenly felt exhausted—not physical exhaustion, but the weariness of a heart tugged, hidden, and fled from for five years.

Yet when Wen Wan Ning reappeared, it still stubbornly, violently leaped toward her.

The hairdryer’s warmth lingered in her strands as the room fell quiet enough to hear her heartbeat.

She picked up her phone, sat on the bed, and opened the chat with Wen Wan Ning.

The conversation stopped at that “good night.”

She stared at the small chat box, her fingertip hovering over the input field, hesitating to type.

Finally, she took a deep breath and typed: [Sorry, Chu Nian messaged you abruptly today. She didn’t mean anything by it—just being polite to let you know we’re safe.]

It didn’t take long—a few seconds later—Wen Wan Ning replied: [No need to apologize. I’m happy to know you made it back to North City safely.]

Then another message followed: [My fever’s completely gone, and I’m almost fully recovered. Thanks for taking care of me. (kitten thanks.jpg)]

The same words, the same emoji again.

Shen Jia Yan felt too tired to guess what Wen Wan Ning really wanted. She simply replied: [You’re welcome. Good night.]

She flipped the phone face-down on the nightstand and lay back, staring at the ceiling.

She had to drag her life, scrambled by Wen Wan Ning, back on track.

※

Wen Wan Ning looked at Shen Jia Yan’s curt reply and gave a wry smile.

She knew how deeply she’d hurt her back then, knew those wounds wouldn’t heal easily, knew the pain etched into her heart needed her sincerity to mend bit by bit.

She had to get used to Shen Jia Yan’s avoidance, her coolness.

She set down the phone and picked up the voice recorder pen.

The pen was worn shiny from use, its black plastic shell faded where she gripped it most.

She pressed play.

The last segment played.

“Wan Ning, when you told me today to give you a little time, I can’t even describe how I felt.” The voice from the recorder carried irrepressible joy, and even now, listening, Wen Wan Ning’s lips curved upward unconsciously.

“I’ve liked you for six years, crushed on you for six years, but I never imagined you’d respond. I was even prepared to guard you as a ‘friend’ for life.” Shen Jia Yan sniffled softly, her voice trembling slightly. “You might not know how much I like you…”

There was a pause in the recording, as if steadying herself, but that softness and restraint overflowed like a tide. “Like in high school, when I’d seek your figure every morning, noon, and night, manufacturing ‘chance encounters’; like how I studied hard in my final senior year to get closer to you; like how every shift in your mood tugged at my heart…”

“Finally, Wan Ning, it’s okay. Take your time. I’ll be here waiting for you, always, right where you can see me when you turn around.”

The recording stopped.

The room fell silent, save for the rustle of wind through leaves outside. Wen Wan Ning held the well-worn voice recorder pen, her fingertips slowly tracing the smooth, rounded edges worn from countless caresses.

She pressed it to her chest, over her heartbeat, tears slipping from the corner of her eye.

Yan Yan, I want to get close to you now, to hold you. Will you still be there the moment I turn around?

※

Two days later, Wen Wan Ning picked up Shen Jia Yan’s jacket from the cleaners.

In those two days, though they barely spoke, her “good morning” and “good night” messages still arrived punctually on Shen Jia Yan’s phone.

Shen Jia Yan’s schedule was packed those days, with little rest, and she had no energy to dwell on Wen Wan Ning’s messages.

At three in the afternoon, the magazine photoshoot wrapped up.

Chu Nian handed the phone to Shen Jia Yan. “Jia Yan jie, you just got a WeChat message.”

Shen Jia Yan took it. “Okay.”

She sat on the sofa, unlocked the phone, and opened WeChat.

The message was from Wen Wan Ning: [Jia Yan, free tonight? I’d like to treat you to dinner and return your jacket.]

The second message popped up: [Mainly to thank you for taking care of me last time. You don’t want me owing you one forever, right? (kitten expectant.jpg)]

After sending, Wen Wan Ning stared at her phone nervously.

She knew Shen Jia Yan was deliberately avoiding meeting her, so she’d come up with this high-minded excuse, hoping it would work.

Shen Jia Yan stared at the phone, not replying right away.

She needed the clothes back. If she didn’t want to meet, she could send Chu Nian, but Wen Wan Ning was right— to cut ties cleanly, she couldn’t keep owing favors.

She looked up at Chu Nian. “Nian Nian, any other schedule after today’s shoot?”

Chu Nian replied instantly. “Just the group rehearsal for the new song back at the studio.”

Shen Jia Yan nodded. “Got it.”

Then she typed: [Okay, free after six tonight.]

Wen Wan Ning’s lips curved into an unstoppable smile upon receiving the reply.

Whatever the reason, getting her to come out was a win.