Chapter 41

Friends.

Chen Yi had been acting strange lately.

This was the consensus among those close to her.

The first to notice was Yu You’an. As Chen Yi’s colleague and close friend, she sat face-to-face with her in the office every day. From the moment Chen Yi walked into the office that first day back at work, Yu You’an had sensed something was off.

Her smile was too radiant! Too joyful!

This wasn’t normal!

Who walks into the office beaming like that?!

Soon after, another telltale sign emerged: Chen Yi was checking her phone far more often, and every time she did, a shy yet thrilled smile would creep across her face.

Something was up.

Definitely something was up.

Yu You’an asked her right away that first day: “Chen Yi, are you seeing someone?”

Chen Yi immediately shook her head. “Nope.”

She wasn’t deliberately hiding it from Yu You’an. It was just that she still hadn’t fully woken up from that dreamlike haze. She was afraid that if she told Yu You’an now, and the bubble burst in a few days, she wouldn’t know how to explain it.

Better to wait until things stabilized before confessing to her friend.

It was like those imperial concubines in palace dramas who hid their pregnancies for two or three months until the fetus was secure, fearing poison from rivals.

Her online romance with Fade was still too fragile.

Chen Yi still harbored lingering fears from Fade’s inexplicable disappearance last time. She was willing to trust Fade again, but that didn’t mean she had no reservations.

Whenever the rush of dopamine from budding love surged through her body and flooded her brain, her rationality issued stern warnings: Be careful.

One could be sincere, Chen Nanyun had once taught her, but never unguarded.

Chen Yi had always lived by that principle.

But after nearly a week of this online flirtation, she felt herself losing her grip.

Forget caution, forget vigilance—they were gone! Vanished!

Su Dai was the second to pick up on it.

She noticed because, while browsing Chen Yi’s streams, she caught her playing sappy love songs instead of her usual tunes. From Wang Xinling’s “Love You” to SHE’s “Only Have Feelings for You.” Songs Chen Yi never used to play were now on repeat in her streams.

Super weird!

Even the fans had noticed Vegetable Sister was possessed.

Her old gaming style had been ruthless and merciless—whatever was scummiest, she’d do it. Now, though? She treated opponents like gentle spring breezes. If she could one-shot a headshot and end the match quick, she never dragged it out with antics.

The whole thing even trended briefly.

VegetableSisterHasChanged#

When Xu Yixiao scrolled past the hashtag, her gut told her it involved her little aunt.

After all, her little aunt hadn’t been acting normal either lately.

Xu Yixiao had her suspicions, but for the sake of her allowance and New Year’s red envelopes, she kept them to herself.

Su Dai had no such qualms.

She straight-up invited Chen Yi to dinner one day and asked point-blank: “Chen Yi, come clean. Are you dating someone?”

Chen Yi was snapping pics of the hot pot with her phone. She denied it reflexively: “Nope.”

Su Dai snorted. “You never used to photograph your meals. Sending it to your girlfriend?”

Chen Yi’s finger paused mid-snap. “That obvious, huh?”

Su Dai nodded vigorously. “Painfully obvious.”

Chen Yi shared the photo with Fade, locked her screen, and faced Su Dai. “Fine, yeah. I am dating someone.”

Su Dai lit up with excitement. “Knew it!”

“You were gonna keep hiding it from me!”

“It wasn’t intentional. I’m just… not totally sure what’s going on yet.”

“What’s to figure out? Dating’s dating!”

Chen Yi glanced up at her with a wry look. “What do you think?”

“You’ve never had ‘situations’ before?”

To dodge Chen Yi dredging up her own messy past, Su Dai forced a grin and pivoted. “Okay, okay. Not going there.”

“So, spill—who is it?”

Before Chen Yi could answer, Su Dai slapped the table. “Wait, no way. Is it that same online girl from before?”

Chen Yi’s gaze flickered guiltily.

Su Dai: “Chen Yi!”

Her shout spiked eight degrees louder. Chen Yi figured she’d be wasting talent not auditioning for The Voice.

“Are you insane?” Su Dai slammed her chopsticks down. “After how she treated you? And it’s only been days! Not even a month!”

“Do you know her name? What she looks like? Where she lives?”

Chen Yi pressed her lips together. She had no answers.

Su Dai laughed bitterly. “See? You know nothing.”

“Don’t come crying to me when she scams you.”

“I know.” Chen Yi bit her lip. “You think I haven’t worried about all that?”

“But Dai Dai, what can I do? I feel like I’m losing control.”

This was the first time she’d ever fallen for someone.

Her first relationship, period.

She had no idea how others navigated these feelings.

For Chen Yi, though, these days felt like a dream—vivid with pain and unease, yet the joy was undeniably real.

Maybe the screen between them lent it an unreal floatiness at times, like a castle in the clouds, no foundation, liable to scatter in the wind. But even through the screen, her heart’s rollercoaster, the irrepressible smiles, Fade’s words, voice, the emotions in her texts… it all felt utterly real.

She was falling hard.

Su Dai eyed her, tsked, grabbed her Coke, and chugged. She let out a belch and said, “If you’re not scared, go for it.”

“But I say meet up soon.”

“Online romances crash hard in person all the time. Who knows if your chat buddy’s human or ghoul IRL? Sooner you meet, sooner you’re at peace.”

“I know.” Chen Yi nodded obediently. “I’ve been thinking about it.”

“National Day’s coming up—holiday time. I plan to ask where she is and visit her city.”

“Miracle’s got an event too. If it’s near her, maybe we could go together.”

“Good you’re thinking ahead.” Su Dai sighed inwardly, feeling like the ultimate worrywart mom. She had a chestful of advice, but ultimately held back. Chen Yi was an adult. When Su Dai had been tumbling through her own romances, Chen Yi never meddled. Now it was her turn to back her friend.

“Just know this: happy or hurt, I’m always here. Got it?”

Chen Yi smiled. “Got it.”

She glanced at the Coke can by Su Dai’s hand. “No booze today?”

Su Dai always cracked a beer with hot pot.

Mention of alcohol soured Su Dai’s face.

“Giving it a break for a bit.”

Chen Yi picked up on it sharply. “Something happen?”

“Nah, just some unpleasantness from drinking before.”

“Who with?”

Su Dai smiled. “Enough, Chen Yi. Lose that ‘I’m about to go avenge you’ face. I handled it. If it’s serious, I’ll tell you. You focus on sorting your own stuff first. Once that’s good, I’m golden.”

If she couldn’t chase her own happiness, Su Dai hoped her friends could.

“Tell me whenever you’re ready,” Chen Yi said earnestly. “Like you said—no matter what, I’m here.”

Su Dai: “Deal!”

“Cheers!”

Their Coke bottles clinked, fizz bubbling.

Su Dai gulped the sweet, fizzy drink and suddenly realized she had no room to call Chen Yi’s whirlwind romance rushed or absurd.

Not when stacked against what had gone down between her and Zhouyu.

Thinking of Zhouyu dimmed Su Dai’s eyes.

They hadn’t met since that night. Su Dai hadn’t reached out to avoid awkwardness; she figured Zhouyu felt the same. They’d only chatted online about the fallout from that troublemaker, exchanged pleasantries, then gone silent.

It left Su Dai a little down.

She’d genuinely liked Zhouyu as a friend—kindred spirits at first sight. Without that night, they’d have clicked perfectly, become real pals.

The older you got, the fewer friends you had, the rarer the ones you could truly open up to. Su Dai cherished every one around her.

But she and Zhouyu were doomed never to be friends.

She gripped her Coke bottle tighter and took another swig.

Chen Yi watched her like that, thoroughly concerned.

Who got blackout drunk on Coke?

Su Dai wasn’t spilling, so Chen Yi couldn’t pry. After dinner, she took a detour and messaged Zhouyu instead.

Zhouyu felt like she’d been handed a hot potato.

After a moment’s thought, she looped in Su Dai for efficiency—they hopped on a call.

“Hello? Su Dai? Chen Yi just messaged me about that night. What do I say?”

“Just say you don’t know.”

“Okay… But you haven’t told her yet?”

“Nope.”

“Then—”

“Zhouyu, I’m not planning to say anything.” Su Dai sat in the car. It was parked along the road by the river, where the nighttime water far below sparkled with the city’s kaleidoscope of lights. It looked beautiful at a glance, but up close it was a chaotic jumble. Just like the turmoil in Su Dai’s heart. “If I let even a little slip to her, she’ll piece it all together. Including that one thing—you know the one, right?”

There was a brief pause from Zhouyu on the other end of the line.

“Yeah, I know.”

“Think of it as our little secret? Please, Zhouyu.”

Zhouyu agreed.

A long time passed—such a very long time—before Su Dai heard her own voice ask, “My friend just opened a new cocktail lounge. Want to check it out?”

For no reason at all, Su Dai’s lips curved into a smile.

“Sure.”

The words slipped out of Su Dai before she could stop them. Perhaps it was the heavy darkness of the night. Perhaps it was the lively crowds passing by along the riverbank, which only amplified her own profound loneliness. In any case, she blurted it out in a teasing, joking tone: “Just for drinks?”

Zhouyu’s reply came smoothly. “I don’t have to be. What about you?”

That night, while some drowned their passions in alcohol, others lingered sweetly on the phone, savoring innocent flirtations.

Chen Yi kept trying to seize any opening to ask Fade if she wanted to meet up.

But her chance vanished soon enough.

The magazine had a project to negotiate in France, plus Fashion Week to cover. Xu Yan had to go, and as Xu Yan’s assistant, Chen Yi had to accompany her. Yu You’an was coming along too, of course.

At first, Chen Yi wanted to bow out gracefully, insisting she wouldn’t be much help.

HR shut that down. “Nonsense. Your French is excellent—you’ll be invaluable as a translator.”

And just like that, the trip was locked in.

With no real choice, Chen Yi prepared for the business trip to France and quietly pushed back her plans to see Fade.

But someone else might not see it that way.