Chapter 19: Bittersweet

Even after she finished speaking, Qi Yu kept looking at her deeply. Her heart beat violently in her chest, as if saying that passage alone had drained every ounce of strength from her body.
Perhaps years from now, when she recalled this night, the scene would still be sharp—still vivid before her eyes.
Because she could not forget the look Jiang Ya gave her in that moment.
What kind of look was it? Disbelief? Eyes brimming with tears? Or disappointment, shock, even a fragile brokenness after something shattered?
Qi Yu felt her vocabulary fail her; she truly could not find the exact word.
But she knew clearly: when she finally searched those moist eyes for the truest emotion, what she saw was a heavy sorrow.
Lonely. Desolate.
Qi Yu only had to look, and a sudden bitterness crashed through her heart. When she belatedly remembered to breathe, that sourness spread from her heart through every organ, until it lodged in her throat and she could not force out another word.
She did not know how long they stared at each other, or whether someone’s eyes had reddened. Qi Yu only remembered that when she came back to herself, Jiang Ya was no longer looking at her. Her profile had slipped into the night—blurred, impossible to read clearly.
Silence between them. The air seemed frozen.
Qi Yu lowered her head to stare at her canvas shoes, her gaze unfocused. Her own words seemed to echo endlessly at her ears, and an inexplicable emptiness settled in her chest.
In that brief span she had flashes of wanting to speak again—wanting to say something more—but what? She no longer knew.
Suddenly the world felt utterly quiet.
Quiet as if a century had passed, until a calm voice finally cracked the ice.
“You… you’ve always thought that way?”
Jiang Ya’s tone was terrifyingly calm. Even through her effort to hide it, Qi Yu could still catch a tremor in her voice.
She looked up at once—but Jiang Ya had turned her face away. Qi Yu’s gaze hit empty air and returned slowly. “Yes…”
“I know you didn’t do anything wrong. From where I stand, I really can’t…” Qi Yu paused, voice muffled. “Really can’t set aside everything that happened. Really can’t…”
“I understand.” Jiang Ya suddenly cut her off, voice light. “I know. It’s not your fault either.”
“But actually… after saying so much.” While Qi Yu was dazed, Jiang Ya glanced at her once and quickly looked away, tugging the corner of her mouth. “We’re at least still friends now, right?”
Qi Yu: “Of course. We always have been…”
“Then that’s enough. The rest—we won’t talk about it.” Jiang Ya finished cleanly and could finally pick up a smile again to face Qi Yu.
Though the moment Qi Yu looked over, she still had half a second of blankness.
“It’s… very late now.” Jiang Ya went on. “Thank you for walking me back. Thank you for staying with me… You should go.”
“Then you—”
“Hm?” Seeing her hesitate, Jiang Ya lifted a brow, lips curved in a soft smile—as if that suffocating conversation had never happened.
Qi Yu studied Jiang Ya’s unruffled manner. After a silence she swallowed the extra concern she had meant to offer.
“Nothing.”
She stood. Her eyes dropped to Jiang Ya. “I’ll head back then. You go upstairs too.”
“Mm. Bye.”
“……”
While Jiang Ya bowed her head, Qi Yu’s gaze could at last linger openly on the crown of her hair a moment longer. The step she meant to take stalled—but in the end she could not talk herself into staying. She could only walk alone into the deep, silent dark against the cold wind.
Only that figure moved unusually slowly. Every pause seemed deliberate; every slowed step was evidence of Qi Yu trying to persuade herself.
Unfortunately, until her patience ran out, she never heard the one sentence that would have let her convince herself.
Even so—though there was no real need—when she reached a corner by the wall she stopped anyway, gave up the struggle, and looked back—
A row of parked cars blocked part of her view, but she could still faintly see the woman sitting on the stone bench with her back to her, as if searching her bag for something.
Qi Yu froze and waited until she heard the soft click of a lighter and knew what Jiang Ya was doing right then.
From far away Qi Yu watched that back—only a back, not even a profile—yet she stood there staring a long time.
Only when the melancholy of that silhouette seeped into her own brow did she slowly withdraw her gaze, lighten her steps, and leave for good.
……
Back at her apartment building Qi Yu checked the time—it was past midnight.
Past midnight, yet the living-room light was still on when she opened the door.
Probably her aunt had left it on for her. She had texted ahead that she would be very late tonight.
While changing shoes she heard a bedroom door open and thought it was Qi Wenping. She looked up and froze.
“Xiaoyu, you’re back.” It was Qi Li.
It was so cold, yet she had come out in only a thin sleep shirt.
Qi Yu moved her gaze from the plain clothes. “Mm… you’re still up?”
“Not yet. When you get older sometimes sleep doesn’t come easy.” Qi Li followed her to the fridge. Seeing her grab a drink, she said, “It’s so cold—are you still drinking something icy?”
Qi Yu gulled down most of the orange juice before stuffing the bottle back. “It’s fine. Just a sip.”
“All right… Your aunt said you went to a high-school reunion tonight?”
“…Yeah.” Qi Yu explained. “Haven’t seen them in ages, so we stayed out late.”
Qi Li: “That’s fine. Young people should get together more. It’s cold lately—whether you’re going out or to work, dress warmer. You looked a bit underdressed today.”
Qi Yu glanced at her coat. “It’s enough. I have fleece underneath. Not that cold.”
“Good. Not cold is good. Go shower and rest. Mom’s going back to bed too.”
“Okay.”
“Mom.” Just as Qi Li turned, Qi Yu suddenly called her back.
“What is it?” Qi Li stopped and looked back, gaze gentle.
“I… tomorrow… I might have something at noon. Tell Aunt Wenping—maybe she can pick up Xuan instead.”
Tomorrow was Sunday; Qi Xuan still had tutoring. Even if it was only pickup, she might not run into her, but still…
“Sure. She’s asleep. I’ll tell her in the morning.” Then Qi Li asked, “Oh—will you still eat lunch at home tomorrow?”
“Uh… probably.” She should have picked another excuse. She did not even know if Tang Xuejun was free tomorrow—might as well ask her.
Qi Yu’s eyes flickered as she thought; she barely heard what Qi Li said after.
Only when Qi Li was about to leave did she hesitate a moment and call again, “Mom.”
“It’s cold. You wear more too… or you’ll catch cold. That’s no good.”
Hearing that, Qi Li was stunned—but surprise soon turned to delight. She smiled warmly. “All right, Mom knows. Mom will dress warmer. You too.”
“Mm.” Watching Qi Li’s smile, Qi Yu curved her own lips in return.
After Qi Li went back to the bedroom, Qi Yu fetched clothes to change. She had thought Qi Xuan was asleep without a sound—but on closer look she was reading comics. Qi Yu had no mood to scold her tonight and went straight to the bathroom.
After midnight the temperature dropped below ten degrees; wind sometimes howled outside. Weather this biting was perfect for a hot shower.
Hot water could wash away a lot of worry.
Qi Yu was the opposite.
She had been under the spray a while. The bathroom mirror fogged; it showed the pale, slender blur of her body.
Her hair was in a bun. Skin above her neck had steamed pink—clearly the water was a bit too hot, but she did not care. She only idly aimed the showerhead, fine brows staring at nothing.
Tonight’s images flickered past like fragments.
Jiang Ya singing in the private room. Walking Jiang Ya home. Jiang Ya suddenly leaning on her. And their final conversation.
But thinking it over, the scene that left the deepest mark was Jiang Ya smoking—clearing sorrow with a cigarette, yet the motion elegant as if she were savoring a cigar.
But everything Jiang Ya did was like that. Except when drunk and grabbing the mic to sing…
She remembered Jiang Ya asking whether she smoked.
She did—but she did not want to say.
When had she learned? Opposite of Jiang Ya—most in the summer after senior year of high school.
Looking back now she found that version of herself childish: escaping thoughts of Jiang Ya, escaping the whole thing, borrowing wine and smoke to dull the ache.
Of course her heart had been guilty too—afraid yet hoping. Afraid Jiang Ya would see her in that ugly state; yet hoping that collapse might win a few words of care, a little love returned.
All of it… ridiculous when she thought about it.
But understandable. Who had not been childish and fragile for one person?
A person was most vulnerable when someone lived in their heart.
Emotions tugged at will—that was terrifying.
Fortunately, all of it had long since been blown away like a grain of sand in time.
“Sigh…” Qi Yu exhaled tiredly, cupping hot water to her face, trying to wake herself.
No matter how many times she washed, that one look from Jiang Ya was branded in her mind.
Were they still friends?
Could they really… still be friends?
Qi Yu asked herself and had no answer.
Between her and Jiang Ya there might never be an answer—not for feeling, not for what they were to each other.
Thinking carefully, if she could truly return seven years and choose again, perhaps she should not have chosen not to love—she should have chosen never to meet.
Never step into Jiang Ya’s world, and maybe nothing after would have happened.
Anyway, she and Jiang Ya were probably never people of the same world.
……
Finals approached. End-of-term grades were the best proof of a semester’s work—and for many students, whether winter break would be pleasant.
Perhaps for that reason not only was class atmosphere heavier; even the students Jiang Ya tutored were more motivated than usual. Two weeks in a row, three students had met the standard to leave the tutoring group.
Jiang Ya’s class followed voluntary rules: voluntary to join, voluntary to leave.
Her original purpose was to help students with serious subject skew as much as possible—after school, consolidating basics so they could keep up with class average.
So if a student truly mastered core points and passed Jiang Ya’s quiz, they could choose to leave.
For fairness Jiang Ya only reviewed fundamentals, not new material; staying longer had little benefit.
“Listen up—Zhao Sheng, Li Xiaomo, Chen Xiaojun—your quiz scores meet the standard. You don’t need to come next week.” Jiang Ya read the names and handed back the graded quizzes.
Only six students remained now—meaning half were leaving again.
Some were happy; some were miserable.
Most obvious: Qi Xuan. She looked one step from writing despair on her face.
Class was over; everyone packed up while Qi Xuan alone bent over her pen, staring at a quiz nearly half wrong, face knotted.
“Hang in there. I’m off.” A hand landed on her right shoulder. Qi Xuan looked up—Chen Xiaojun winked at her.
She grabbed Chen Xiaojun’s hand at once. “Can you not leave next week? Exams are soon—stay and review with me.”
Chen Xiaojun refused. “Staying won’t help. Didn’t Teacher say? We only do basics. If you’ve got them, you leave. Staying means the same lessons.”
Qi Xuan: “Come on~ stay with me. Without you I can’t even read some questions!”
“Xiaojun, what’ll I do without you?” She wailed so hard she nearly cried on cue.
Chen Xiaojun, pulled along, hesitated, unsure how to answer.
Jiang Ya came out of the restroom and saw the scene.
“Qi Xuan, why are you holding someone’s hand? I told you to look at your wrong answers—where are you looking?”
Qi Xuan flushed, unwillingly let go. Chen Xiaojun seized the chance to wave goodbye and vanished like smoke.
“Focus. Exams are soon and you’re still distracted. Look at your mistakes.” Jiang Ya stood behind her, picked up the quiz. “Tsk—your essay, tenses all mixed, everything in simple present… and wrong spelling…”
She lectured a string of grammar Qi Xuan could not follow.
Once Qi Xuan had thought it gentle murmuring; now it was like Tang Monk’s scripture and she the Monkey King—with a tightening spell the moment Jiang Ya started, her head ached.
She really could not hold it in. She looked up pitifully, blinking at Jiang Ya. “Teacher, I’ll fix it properly at home—can I show you next week? Or Monday…”
“Let me go. Mom’s waiting downstairs…”
Jiang Ya’s gaze on the paper paused. She set it down. “Your mom is picking you up again today?”
“Yeah. She’ll scold me if she waits too long. Teacher, let me go.”
“……”
Jiang Ya froze a beat, then smiled and took out her phone. “It’s fine. I’ll ask her up to sit. Perfect time to talk about how you’ve been doing lately.”
“Ahh—” Qi Xuan’s scream filled the living room. She wanted to stop it but dared not, only watching Jiang Ya type as if messaging Qi Wenping.
Qi Xuan gave up. Paper could not wrap fire forever…
Seriously— they had agreed big sister would pick her up, but these two weeks Qi Yu had been so busy she dumped her on terrifying Mom instead.
Sigh…
“Look at you—so young and already sighing. Attitude this negative.” Jiang Ya put the phone back and sat beside her.
They had barely gone through two problems when the doorbell rang.
Jiang Ya went to open the door, polite smile already in place—but the moment she saw who stood outside, the smile froze halfway.
The person outside was no better. They stared a moment before the visitor spoke. “Her mom’s at the shop today… I came to pick her up.”
Jiang Ya’s eyes were still dull. Before she could speak, Qi Xuan had darted out in slippers.
Seeing Qi Yu, joy she could not hide burst out. “Sis!”
Qi Yu answered. Still changing shoes at the door, she heard Qi Xuan again: “Sis, why are you picking me up? Didn’t you say you had no time today?”
Qi Yu looked up and met Jiang Ya’s eyes—then both looked away in tacit agreement.
She walked to Qi Xuan’s side and looked at the quiz. “If you don’t want me to come next time I won’t. I came to pick you up and you still ask… Why so many wrong?”
“Not that many—just a few…”
“That…” Jiang Ya spoke behind her. Qi Yu startled and turned.
“You sit too. She got quite a lot wrong. I kept her to go over them—not finished yet. You may need to wait a bit.”
Jiang Ya spoke with lowered eyes the whole time. Without waiting for Qi Yu’s reaction she sat beside Qi Xuan and picked up the quiz where she had left off.
“Look at this question—what’s it testing? Attributive clause, right…”
Qi Yu pulled out a chair lightly, afraid of making noise. She sat on Qi Xuan’s other side and watched the paper with her.
Jiang Ya held a red pen, circling wrong answers, marking key points, explaining in detail why each option was ruled out.
Years off textbooks, yet Qi Yu listened absorbed. Her gaze slipped from the questions to Jiang Ya’s hand.
Jiang Ya was slender; her fingers long and bony, back of the hand pale, faint veins visible. Fingers tightened and loosened on the pen. In pauses waiting for Qi Xuan’s answer, they would rub together as if thinking.
She was beautiful; even her hands were beautiful.
Qi Yu quietly withdrew her stare, meant to return to the paper—yet glance after glance, her eyes drifted to Jiang Ya’s face again.
From stealing glances to looking openly. No matter how she looked, Jiang Ya seemed to be sulking—refusing to spare her one glance.
Though Qi Yu believed Jiang Ya was not petty… should not still be like this over what she said two weeks ago…
From the moment she entered until now, she had felt the taste of being cold-shouldered. She did not quite understand why…
About ten minutes later the review ended.
The instant it ended Qi Xuan claimed stomach pain and fled to the bathroom—leaving the moment Qi Yu least wanted.
Two people facing each other in silence—awkward as could be.
“I heard your weekends these past two weeks have been busy?”
Qi Yu was distractedly on her phone when Jiang Ya spoke first.
Qi Yu was surprised—she had thought…
“Not really… a friend asked me out.” Her eyes flicked up and down, never daring to meet Jiang Ya’s directly. “I happened to be free today. Her mom was busy, so I came.”
“Oh…” Jiang Ya nodded, still flipping Qi Xuan’s quiz, no more questions.
Like… conversation stopped at the right point.
Only Jiang Ya acting like that made Qi Yu uncomfortable—something lodged in her chest, swelling until she felt she would suffocate if she did not speak.
“Right.” After rehearsing in her head several times, Qi Yu finally looked up, gaze steadier. “Li Tong said before she wanted us to eat together.”
Li Tong had said it—Qi Yu could not remember exactly when, maybe a few days after the reunion, casually mentioned.
“Really?” Jiang Ya seemed to recall. “I don’t think she told me.”
“Oh… she told me. Said she didn’t know if you were free—maybe hasn’t asked you yet… ahem.” Qi Yu cleared her throat abruptly.
“So… what now?” Jiang Ya looked at her, eyes faintly smiling. “Are you asking me out?”
That look made Qi Yu’s heart skip.
“Uh… Li Tong… Li Tong asked that way, so I came to ask you.” Her eyes wandered nowhere and everywhere before returning to Jiang Ya’s face. “Anyway she said it’s been ages since we all met—we could eat together.”
Jiang Ya: “Mm… what do you think?”
Qi Yu: “Me? I think it’s fine. I’m free weekends.”
“Then I’ll follow you.” Jiang Ya answered instantly, soft gaze fixed on her, seeming in no hurry to move away.
Qi Yu froze again.
Probably at a loss.
She could not figure it out—really could not.
She had smugly thought she might guess Jiang Ya’s hidden mood; one smile and she realized she understood nothing…
Jiang Ya—how could she be one thing one moment and another the next…