Chapter 21: She Knows So Much of the Past; She Wants to Be Selfish Just Once

A gentle breeze swept through the courtyard, sending a few stray leaves tumbling. The rustling sound lingered for a moment before falling into a heavy silence.

Su Ye didn’t seem to register the weight of the question. She scratched her head and paced in a small circle. “Is it really that important? You’ve asked me three times today.”

Yue Chengqi frowned. “Twice.”

“Does it matter?!”

“It doesn’t matter, and whether I like her or not shouldn’t matter either,” Su Ye muttered, rubbing her chin. She leaned in close, tilting her head to look up at Yue Chengqi, scanning her face from left to right as if searching for a hidden clue. Suddenly, a look of realization dawned on her. “Wait, are you just worried about working with her? Don’t worry, it won’t affect our profit-sharing.”

“Sigh… forget it. We don’t necessarily need her anyway. If you don’t like her, we won’t bring her on. Just cheer up, okay?”

The girl’s slender fingers, marked by the wear and tear of daily labor, reached out. Her callouses weren’t thin. She placed her fingers at the corners of Yue Chengqi’s mouth and gently pulled upward.

Su Ye flashed a brilliant grin. “See? Isn’t that better, Big Yue Huan?”

“…” What kind of nickname is Big Yue Huan?!

Yue Chengqi didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She gently pressed her own hand over the fingers at the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t help but feel the hangnails on those fingertips—remnants of enduring the wind and rain—and the friction of the callouses against her skin. The sensation was stark and undeniable.

Yet the girl before her noticed none of this. She didn’t even see the momentary flicker of melancholy in Yue Chengqi’s eyes. She simply looked up, offering a smile as radiant and vast as the sun.

Yue Chengqi thought: Shouldn’t my goal be to protect this smile?

How could I… what exactly am I thinking? Why am I hesitating?

She had finally been given a chance to change the past. Did she really have to play matchmaker? Did things have to go back to the “intended” path for them to be better?

What made Qi Sheng so special?

Yue Chengqi asked softly, “If I don’t like her, can we really just… not work with her?”

“Why are you being so stubborn? Look at our relationship—we’ve already slept in the same room. What is she compared to that, right?”

“…” The logic was sound, but the phrasing was incredibly crude.

However, it was true. The power of choice was currently in Yue Chengqi’s hands.

Perhaps with just one sentence, she could change everything. She could ensure that person never appeared in Su Ye’s life again. She could sever that painful development from the very beginning and give Su Ye freedom—or at least, what she perceived as freedom.

Did she want that?

Yue Chengqi’s mind suddenly drifted back to a personal memory—the early spring of her sophomore year in high school. Yue Wenfeng had gone on a business trip just as the semester started, leaving Su Ye with the task of looking after her.

In truth, she hadn’t needed much looking after. Though food delivery wasn’t popular yet, she could cook for herself, and the house was stocked with instant meals. All Su Ye really had to do was drive her to and from school and call her in the morning and afternoon to wake her up. That was all.

She remembered one night vividly—a night filled with fireworks.

That godforsaken school was located in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by wasteland. Worse, they had started the semester before the New Year holidays were even over. It was infuriating!

Full of resentment, Yue Chengqi had walked out of the school gates with her hands stuffed in her pockets. People were selling roses at the entrance, and not far away, others were setting off fireworks in the fields. The sounds of laughter and play were endless, creating a sharp, painful contrast to the gloom of the students.

She walked to the roadside and saw Su Ye leaning against the car, waiting for her.

She had quickened her pace, intending to tease her. She wanted to say that since “President Su” was now a celebrity in An City, why was she standing out in the open like this without even a face mask?

She had called out “Auntie” from a distance, but Su Ye hadn’t turned her head. It was then that Yue Chengqi sensed something was wrong. As she got closer, she realized the woman was in a daze.

To be precise, she was staring blankly at the fireworks slowly ascending in the distance.

Yue Chengqi still remembered what Su Ye was wearing that day—a khaki trench coat over a black turtleneck sweater. The belt was tied loosely at her waist, and her ink-black hair flowed down her back, nearly reaching her hips.

With her hands in her pockets, she watched the fireworks, lost in thought. When they finally burst into a kaleidoscope of colors, the light reflected off her face. Amidst that colorful glow, there seemed to be the faint, shimmering trace of tears.

The crowds were cheering; everyone was busy celebrating and taking photos. Only one person was silently recording the moment with her eyes, and another person was silently watching her.

Yue Chengqi had wondered: What is she thinking? Why is she crying? Is she thinking about that “Auntie” I’ve only ever heard of but never met?

It was only then that Yue Chengqi realized that while it was indeed the Lantern Festival, it was also Valentine’s Day. It should have been a day of double celebration, yet the person before her looked so lonely—so lonely that Yue Chengqi had felt an impulse to pull her into a hug.

In the end, she hadn’t. She didn’t call her out on it. Instead, she pretended she had simply come out late, waiting until the fireworks were almost over before stepping out from behind a utility pole. she walked slowly over to Su Ye, bumped her head into the woman’s arms, and began grumbling about all the annoying things that had happened at school that day.

She hadn’t spoken up because it would have been useless. At that time, she couldn’t change anything. Even if she had asked, Su Ye wouldn’t have told her more. Those were the affairs of adults; she had no right to interfere, and even if she did, it wouldn’t have mattered.

But now was different. She was an adult too. She could interfere. Her influence was so great that a single word could block everything that was to come. If she were a bit more selfish, she could even coax this person, slowly drawing her closer until she fell in love with her.

Because she knew so much about the past. she knew exactly how to win Su Ye’s heart.

This was 1998. There were no such constraints or expectations yet. She was free.

So, should she do it?

Should she shut the door on anyone who might be “that person”? Should she change Su Ye’s past and destiny by preferring to “kill” an innocent opportunity rather than let a threat through?

In the depths of Yue Chengqi’s heart, a small version of herself stood up, hands on hips, looking at her with a condescending sneer. “Well? Are you going to do it, Yue Chengqi from 2023? Or should I say… Yue Huan, the girl she trusts so much?”

“…”

The internal struggle lasted only a heartbeat. In the next second, Yue Chengqi met those curious eyes—eyes that shimmered with the naive but courageous light of youth.

The answer was obvious.

She smiled, gently removing the hand from the corner of her mouth. She lightly brushed over Su Ye’s fingertips and said in a low voice, “Actually, I like her quite a bit. Let’s work with her. She’s so capable; the business will definitely get better and better.”

She had almost forgotten that there was another choice.

She could be the filter. She could watch. If they really found that person, she would solve any problems that arose. If things were going well, she would just ensure Su Ye got regular checkups and stayed healthy.

This was Su Ye’s life. She could help her make it better, but she had no right to decide who held the invitation to the dance.

She had received so much closeness lately that she had forgotten they were destined to belong to two different worlds.

She had been overstepping.

“…” Su Ye was stunned, clearly not expecting this answer.

Yue Chengqi nodded again. “You’re right. She’s pretty, cute, and smart. Let’s partner with her. It’ll be great.” She repeated it unconsciously, as if soothing herself.

“…Oh, okay.”

Yue Chengqi added, “I’ll head out for a bit. We’re having lunch at Sister Wanjia’s, right? Got it.”

“…Yeah.”

Yue Chengqi walked quickly out the door, closed it, and leaned against a nearby pillar, letting out a long, slow breath.

Just a little more. Just a tiny bit more, and I would have become the kind of person I hate most—the kind who interferes in others’ lives under the banner of ‘it’s for your own good.’

Thank god. Thank god.

She stood by the pillar for a while before realizing she had left Su Ye inside her own room. Which meant she currently had nowhere to go.

She probably needed to go back in.

“…”

The door was right there. Should she push it open?

Yue Chengqi’s hand hovered in mid-air, her fingers splaying and then curling back into a fist. She couldn’t stop the corners of her mouth from twitching with frustration.

Go in! You didn’t interfere with her, your conscience is clear, so why won’t you go in?

Suddenly, as if reaching a final decision, she forced her hand down and turned to leave the courtyard.

There were other places to go. There were always other places.

Lin Wanjia was cooking; she could just go help with the meal. Or she could go to the intersection to meet Zhang Mingfang. After all, Zhang Mingfang had injuries on her leg and arm, and the walk from the city hospital wasn’t exactly short.

Her life wouldn’t revolve solely around Su Ye… right?

But if she had pushed that door open, she would have seen the girl inside turning her head mechanically. After a long silence, half-confused and half-shocked, Su Ye let out a long, drawn-out sound of bewilderment.

In Su Ye’s heart, a stampede of horses seemed to gallop past, kicking up clouds of dust. Beneath that dust was a doubt she found hard to voice.

Is that how Yue Huan acts when she likes someone?

Yue Huan appreciates and likes that girl as much as I do?

Yue Huan… likes that person??

Yue Huan… likes that girl?

She has to be lying. Her face was so sour the whole way here, looking like someone owed her millions. Is that how you look when you like someone?

No way!

She’s lying!

She has to be lying!

Su Ye rubbed her neck and shook her head gently, taking a sharp breath of cold air. She muttered to herself, “Is there something wrong with Yue Huan? Why is she so fierce when she likes someone?”

She had almost decided not to work with Qi Sheng. Wouldn’t that have crushed Yue Huan’s desire to make a new friend?

Thank goodness. Even though she has a scary face, she finally spoke her true feelings.

Does she really like her? The way friends like each other?

Really?

Su Ye poked at the rice in her bowl during lunch, her eyes fixed vacantly on the side dishes.

She didn’t snap out of it until her wrist was gently nudged. It was Zhang Mingfang.

The woman sat down, supporting her injured arm and holding her chopsticks in her mouth. Once settled, she dropped the chopsticks onto her bowl, moved her arm into a comfortable position, and teased, “You didn’t do any business all morning. Are you calculating how much money you lost?”

Zhang Mingfang was braced for a sharp retort.

Normally, Su Ye would have scolded her for having a narrow mindset, arguing that the morning wasn’t a loss but a preparation for future earnings. Then, she would have poked fun at her for acting like her arm was severed when it was just a minor injury.

Even though it actually hurt quite a bit—so much so that someone else had to write her outpatient records today.

But the retort never came.

The girl bit the end of her chopsticks, appearing as if she had a thousand tangled thoughts she couldn’t express. She stared at Zhang Mingfang with eyes like autumn pools, looking incredibly pitiful.

Zhang Mingfang: “…Out with it, my little ancestor. What do you want now?”

Su Ye forced a small smile and leaned in, lowering her voice. “I have a question.”