Chapter 24: Dream

Hearing that, Qi Yu’s eyes flew open, brow knit—already tangled thoughts churned worse.
But soon she let the subtle feeling go, shifted smoothly. “Okay, fine. I’m not a kid—I know how to take care of myself. I’ll go up in a bit.”
“All right… just be safe.”
“Mm…”
Then the topic died. Neither spoke; neither hung up first.
Qi Yu slid her zipper down, cool air on her neck easing the heat inside. She stood, phone in hand—stumbled once, steadied fast.
The other side heard her grunt. “What is it? You okay?”
“Fine.” Qi Yu gripped the phone, staring into empty dark ahead, walking slow. “Just dizzy standing up… I’m heading back now.”
“Is it too late—I disturbed you?”
Jiang Ya: “No. I just washed up—still need to dry my hair, some work. Not sleeping yet.”
“So your resignation—what exactly happened? Can you tell me?”
Jiang Ya’s voice was soft and warm—clearer in the ear than usual, like mountain spring, like a thin stream.
The longer Qi Yu listened, the restlessness from wine was slowly soothed.
Calmer, she looked down—lips curved a tiny, unconscious arc. “But don’t you need to dry your hair?”
Jiang Ya: “Priorities. Your thing matters more now.”
Qi Yu’s step on the stairs paused—stopped mid-flight. She looked up; eyes caught dim light, ripples of feeling.
Jiang Ya: “I’m wearing a dry cap anyway—not urgent. Can blow after we talk.”
“…Hello? Still there?” No answer a while—Jiang Ya asked again.
Qi Yu on the railing, each step heavy and slow.
“Listening.” Voice low, slightly hoarse.
She regretted a little—should not have drowned sorrows with Tang Xuejun over her breakup. Her tolerance was never great; not even home yet and she swayed, wanted to squat on the stairs.
She told Jiang Ya honestly, “Still on the stairs. Dry your hair first. I need to wash up at home—we can talk later.”
Silence, then: “Sure. You go home first. I’ll… find you in fifteen minutes, okay?”
Qi Yu: “Okay.”
Call ended. Qi Yu sighed, exhausted, forced her body upward.
Living-room light still on for her—but quiet inside. Probably Qi Li and Qi Wenping asleep.
Shoes off, light out, she dragged herself to her room.
Dark inside. Qi Xuan was at a classmate’s tonight—unusual silence. Every stray thought vanished the moment she hit the bed.
She had not even taken off the down jacket—lay flat. Meant to rest then wash—but eyes closed minutes and sleep crashed over her.
Dazed, the phone rang and jolted her awake.
Jiang Ya. Exactly fifteen minutes—she really had called.
“Hello?” Qi Yu forced alertness—voice already betrayed her.
Jiang Ya: “You… fell asleep?” Careful on the other end.
“Not yet. Haven’t washed.” Sitting up, half-reclining. “This late—is it okay? Don’t you need sleep?”
“It’s fine. I don’t sleep that early.”
“But you had work?”
“Can hear you out first?” A pause. “What’s wrong—hard to talk?”
“Not really…” Qi Yu stared blankly at the ceiling, fighting herself.
A long while before she chose her words. “I feel… my thing isn’t that important. You don’t need to…”
“It is.” Jiang Ya answered fast.
“Friends—aren’t we there when the other needs us? Listen, support, help?”
“So… anything you want to say, you can tell me.”
So natural. Logic airtight. Qi Yu could not find a crack—nothing to say.
Right—wasn’t that what friends did?
High school—they had vented to each other like this. What was there to suspect? What to overthink?
Self-delusion was the original sin.
Qi Yu tucked those thoughts away and spoke plainly to Jiang Ya. “Long story… simple version: boss wanted me to hand my work and results to someone else.”
Jiang Ya: “What? To who?”
“The nepotism guy I mentioned before.” Talking about it woke her a little. “Director promised I’d present our team’s plan at the year-end review—I’m lead, I know every detail.”
“Then one word—changed. Give the chance to that guy. Said more chances later for me.”
“I couldn’t take it. Argued in his office. Decided to quit.”
“Just told another friend—she supports me but said jobs are hard to find, think more…”
“So… do you think I should reconsider?”
When she finished, no immediate reply.
Then the voice in her ear: “Who… did you tell? Li Tong?”
Unexpected—but Qi Yu said, “No. Someone you don’t know—but you’ve seen. When I went to school for Xuan—the one beside me.”
Jiang Ya: “Oh…”
“I think every choice has pros and cons—gain and loss. What matters is whether you gain more or lose more.”
“If the pay is really good and you can tolerate this unfairness for now, think carefully. But if it happened once it can again. If you can’t accept it, quitting respects yourself.”
Qi Yu did not hesitate. “I can’t accept it. Crossed my bottom line.”
“I guessed.” Jiang Ya’s voice was melodious. “You’ve made up your mind—stick to it. Follow your heart, respect it. The bridge will be there when you reach it.”
True—Qi Yu thought the same. Once decided, unlikely to change.
But one thing curious her.
“Why… did you guess? Why not persuade me more?”
“Because you don’t need persuading. Maybe you’re lost—not about the job, about yourself. You just need someone to listen and agree, right?”
“I’m happy to be that person.”
“………”
One sentence plucked the deepest string in her heart.
Jiang Ya had said aloud what she hid inside.
Before Jiang Ya she felt laid bare; Jiang Ya to her was near and far, blurred.
Qi Yu did not know how to answer—mind blank. Before she found words Jiang Ya spoke first.
“Because—you used to be like that too.”
Qi Yu puzzled. “I used to? How?”
Jiang Ya: “You used to listen to my trivial things, useless worries. When I had no one to talk to I told you everything.”
“Now I’m just standing where you stood then—trying to ease your mood.”
“So… do you feel a little better now?”
Qi Yu froze, lips parted, no sound.
The her from before…
The her centered on Jiang Ya, everything for Jiang Ya? She did not really like that self.
Too sensitive, weak, childish, ridiculous, melodramatic… the old her, in today’s eyes, nothing but flaws.
Still—Jiang Ya remembered the past clearly. Things she forgot, Jiang Ya remembered in detail.
But if Jiang Ya knew those kindnesses were not pure friendship—more than friendship, unspoken selfishness, possessiveness, shameful wanting…
If she laid it all out clearly—would Jiang Ya still value her like this?
What Jiang Ya missed most—wasn’t it the companionship when she needed it most? But what if that was never just as a friend?
She wondered—if one day she stripped it bare again, what would Jiang Ya do?
At least—not like now.
Nothing worth saying anymore. She did not like Jiang Ya now—no need to tear this dignity apart.
That night they talked a long, long time.
What exactly—Qi Yu could not remember. Probably unimportant things, casual—you speak, I speak—hours somehow.
How it ended—forgotten too.
She only remembered, before consciousness failed completely, Jiang Ya’s soft “good night.”
Then she slept deep.
……
The night felt especially long.
She dreamed.
The dream was odd—fragments, no full plot.
But the person who appeared most was Jiang Ya—maybe because of the call before sleep.
One scene in the dream.
Like tonight—low mood, wanting to vent, she called Jiang Ya.
Unlike reality—in the next second Jiang Ya stood beside her, gentle eyes on her, asking.
Dream-Jiang Ya wore the school uniform, face blurred but younger—like the girl from before.
Qi Yu seemed to know it was a dream, wanted to ask something—Jiang Ya moved first—
Hands around her waist. In shock Jiang Ya hugged her.
A pure hug—only a hug.
Chin light on her shoulder—touch so real she doubted the dream.
If not a dream, why would Jiang Ya hug her?
Dreams had no logic. Before she thought further, comfort wrapped her ears.
Hand stroking her back—gentle, nothing extra, simple soothing.
Qi Yu could not tell true from false—stiff, letting Jiang Ya hold her.
She seemed to hear: “Don’t worry. Everything passes. Anyway—I’ll stay with you.”
“When you need me, find me anytime.”
“We… are best friends.”
Then she understood—this was Jiang Ya from seven years ago.
Suddenly she wanted to cry.
If she could return to seven years ago, that night—no impulse, no tearing everything open—how good.
If she had never fallen for Jiang Ya—how good.
If they had stayed friends—how good.
In the end she was the one who ruined it.
They had been so beautiful—promised friends forever—promised… why then that shameful thought toward Jiang Ya?
She should not have liked Jiang Ya. Should not have cut the bond herself.
So many should-nots… Qi Yu regretted.
Facing this Jiang Ya pure as blank paper—thousands of words—but when courage finally came, she choked.
Words stuck; sourness rushed her nose.
When tears fell she dropped all guard and pulled Jiang Ya into her arms.
How deep the grievance she never spoke—she held Jiang Ya that tight—felt breath at her ear, heartbeat in sync with hers.
She owed Jiang Ya sorry too.
Sorry to her. Sorry to herself.
Sorry.
I broke our promise.
Sorry.
I disappointed you.
Sorry.
I loved you.
……
Qi Yu woke around ten the next morning.
Felt like she had slept ages—frowning at her phone, 10:08, still surprised.
Maybe last night’s drink—sitting up dizzy, head heavy, thoughts not lining up.
She sat on the bed at least five minutes before moving stiff limbs. Seeing the jacket still on—annoyed. Meant to shower first—fell dead asleep. Remember: no more drinking like that.
Jacket off, usual route to the balcony to wash up.
Unconsciously staring at her messy hair in the mirror—brushing paused sudden.
Last night’s call with Jiang Ya crashed into her head.
Then the half-forgotten dream pieced itself into pictures again.
“…Damn.” Foam still in her mouth she cursed herself.
Crazy.
Truly crazy.
How could she dream of Jiang Ya. Had not dreamed of her in years.
Slow brushing, urgently trying to recall more dream detail.
The harder she tried, the less came back.
Forget it.
No point.
Probably because of last night’s call.
Thinking so, she rinsed fast, washed her face, back to the bedroom—phone—
Opening chat with Jiang Ya shocked her again.
Call duration: 125:34.
She had talked with Jiang Ya over two hours?
Under that—messages from Jiang Ya.
Jiang Ya: *Good night*
Jiang Ya: *Hope you feel better when you wake tomorrow*
Sent last night. Two more at 9:55—just now.
Jiang Ya: *Awake?*
Jiang Ya: *Feeling better?*
“……”
Reading them, trouble rose in her chest again.
Blamed the bar again. Really drunk—not a little—or she would never have called Jiang Ya…
Without that call—no awkward bind now.
She would rather Jiang Ya cold, silent, indifferent… at least then she would not face her again and again, soften again and again.