Chapter 3: The Most Familiar Stranger

The parent meeting had long ended at nine forty-two, but Qi Yu still could not leave.
She stood to one side of the podium. Three or four parents were ahead of her in line, each called by Jiang Ya to stay—just like her.
—“Hey, has your kid signed up for any cram school? Ours says half the class has already…”
—“Of course you have to. Especially first year—you need a solid foundation or you’ll fall behind later.”
—“Right, that makes sense, but I worry about quality… and tutoring’s expensive now…”
—“Why not try my kid’s place? Not bad. Which subject does yours need?”
Jiang Ya was talking; the waiting parents clustered too, children the only topic.
Qi Yu stood at the back. Whether by age or anything else, from the bottom of her heart she felt she did not belong here.
Emotions mixed. Qi Xuan’s message arrived right on cue.
【Troublemaker】: Cousin, meeting over yet?
Qi Yu stared at the text, glanced at the parent group. One of them looked her way—she quickly lowered her head.
【Qi Yu】: Over ages ago. Got kept behind.
【Qi Yu】: You said they wouldn’t keep me?
【Qi Yu】: Your cousin hasn’t eaten. Starving to death.
Rushing straight from work to this meeting, she had not even had two bites of dinner. Her stomach was nearly flat against her ribs.
Small stuff—but thinking she would soon talk alone with Jiang Ya, she grew inexplicably restless, unsure what role to play.
Qi Xuan’s parent? Or an old friend not seen in years?
The latter sounded far-fetched even in her head.
【Troublemaker】: I’ll order barbecue. We eat when you’re back.
【Troublemaker】: Huh? Why kept behind? What for?
【Qi Yu】: Don’t know. Still waiting.
【Troublemaker】: Probably my grades slipping. What else could it be.
【Troublemaker】: If it’s good news, come back and praise me. If bad, forget it hahahaha.
【Troublemaker】: But I bet homeroom teacher won’t say bad things. She’s so nice.
Qi Yu was about to reply to the last line when Qi Xuan brought up Jiang Ya again.
Qi Yu was genuinely curious—how good could Jiang Ya be, that Qi Xuan always had her on her lips?
Fingertip paused on the phone. She skipped the topic and did not answer.
While waiting she watched parents leave one by one. She and Jiang Ya stood together in that small space at the podium—less than two meters apart now.
She regretted again.
Jiang Ya had called “Qi Xuan” first. Why did she have to wait until last.
Wait longer and the classroom would hold only the two of them.
Forced to think what greeting would be proper and not awkward.
*Long time no see*? Too cliché. *You’re actually here*? Too cringe…
*I didn’t expect you’re Qi Xuan’s homeroom teacher*—that one might work.
Qi Yu rehearsed silently in her head for a long time before settling on one reasonable line.
She wanted to be foolproof—but one step toward Jiang Ya, under that calm gaze, she went mute again.
Mouth open, voice refusing to come out.
The empty classroom. Night wind swelled the curtains; fabric brushing the wall was loud.
Silence like a century until someone spoke.
“What, you don’t recognize me?” Jiang Ya.
She blinked. Faint smile rose in her eyes, tone still like before—gentle reproach.
“No.” Qi Yu snapped back, forced a smile, eyes flickering. “Of course I recognize you…”
“Talk about coincidence. I never thought Qi Xuan’s homeroom teacher was you.” The smile was too stiff; her face trembled slightly.
“Mm, it is.” Jiang Ya nodded, smile natural, eyes on Qi Yu without leaving. “You’re Qi Xuan’s… sister?”
“Yes.”
“How come you never mentioned you had a younger sister.”
Qi Yu paused—she had not expected Jiang Ya to bring up the past.
In high school she and Jiang Ya talked about almost everything, including family. Back then Qi Yu had only casually said she was an only child. She had not thought Jiang Ya would remember.
“She’s my cousin. Same surname, that’s all.”
“Oh…”
Jiang Ya looked at her and said no more. The air turned cold again.
Her eyes were gentle, but Qi Yu dared not meet them.
Gaze wandered until it landed on the grade sheet on the platform—like a lifeline.
“Right—did you keep me for Qi Xuan’s exam? I saw her ranking. It really…”
“Not only her.” Jiang Ya answered, decisive.
Qi Yu lowered her eyes, stunned. Half a sentence stuck—she could not finish.
Jiang Ya pushed the report card toward her first. “Forget it. Hers first.”
“Other things—later.”
At that Qi Yu looked up, expression blank.
Other things…
What things.
Between them—hadn’t it all ended long ago?
.
After discussing Qi Xuan it was past ten.
Qi Yu left with Jiang Ya. From the classroom door they walked side by side in silence.
Night was deep outside. Passing the greenery by the teaching building you could hear wind in leaves, then them hitting the ground.
November at Nanliu—night wind cool. Breeze light but comfortable. Qi Yu remembered walking this path many times in high school, laughing, finding it refreshing.
Now she felt no ease at all.
Not irritable, not anxious—more like blank mind. She did not know what she felt.
Only—after so many years, playing friend with Jiang Ya as if nothing had happened… she could not manage it.
“Teacher Jiang.”
Near the school gate someone called from behind.
Both turned. A young female teacher.
“Teacher Chen, you’re heading back too?” Jiang Ya wore a polite smile.
“Yeah. I wanted to finish early, but suddenly it’s so late.” The woman waved, sighing.
Then she noticed someone beside Jiang Ya, looked twice—unfamiliar face. “Um… which teacher is this?”
Quite good-looking.
Qi Yu was still dazed. When the woman looked over she glanced at Jiang Ya instinctively. Jiang Ya said at once: “No, she’s not a teacher.”
“She’s a friend. Here for the parent meeting.”
“I see.” Awkward laugh. “No wonder I’ve never seen her.”
“I’ll go then.”
“Okay.” Jiang Ya waved.
Turning back she saw Qi Yu with head down, expression unclear.
“Aren’t you leaving?”
“Oh… leaving.” Qi Yu woke, but her gaze still drifted, mind elsewhere.
Outside the gate Qi Yu stopped and spoke first. “Um… I’ll head off? Subway’s back there.”
Jiang Ya stood before her. Silent a moment. “Don’t take the subway. I’ll drive you.”
Unexpected. Qi Yu hesitated, avoiding direct look. “No need. Subway’s fast—three stops.”
Jiang Ya gave no room. “It’s almost ten ten. Subway closes before eleven. Walking there from here takes time too.”
Qi Yu: “……”
She checked her phone. “Still okay. Not far on foot. I’ll make it.”
That line left Jiang Ya silent.
She stared at Qi Yu’s profile toward the road, a few strands trembling at her temple, the slight movement of her nose, every little expression with nowhere to hide.
When Qi Yu grew awkward under the stare, Jiang Ya finally said: “I’ll drive you. Something… I want to talk about.”
Seeing hesitation, Jiang Ya added: “We haven’t seen each other so long. Can’t we talk?”
Tone ordinary, but the words brooked no refusal.
Qi Yu went speechless.
She had no answer.
Nanliu campus covered junior and senior high, sprawling. The garage was on the outer edge—another detour on foot.
Walking, Qi Yu thought: seven years apart, however close a bond, enough to fade to stranger. Besides, before that they had never needed the word *close*.
Just friends. A friend who had confessed and been turned down.
Qi Yu remembered—plenty had shown Jiang Ya affection openly or quietly. Jiang Ya ignored them all. When someone brave confessed, Jiang Ya would douse them coldly and the tie would break.
So she did not understand—why not keep adult dignity? Why insist on this.
How awkward.
“You still live in Xincheng?” Jiang Ya buckled her seatbelt and asked the person staring into space.
Qi Yu looked at her. Nodded.
Without thinking: “You still remember after so long.”
“Of course. I have a good memory.”
“……”
A careless line—Qi Yu’s mind ran wild.
Good memory… so that night she remembered clearly too.
Qi Yu turned to the window, picked at dry lip with her teeth, then drew a deep breath.
Drunk that night. Truly shameful.
If she could choose again she would rather let the words rot inside.
Halfway through the drive, quiet only minutes, Jiang Ya asked again: “You work around here now?”
“Yeah.”
“What do you do?”
“Just… event planning at a small company.” Qi Yu’s smile was thin. “Every day prep proposals, revise proposals. Very dull.”
“You… I didn’t expect you became a teacher.”
That surprised her too.
Back then Jiang Ya had said clearly she did not like the profession. She said it often enough that Qi Yu remembered.
Jiang Ya was quiet a moment. “Mm, it’s okay. Homeroom teacher means more to manage, more pressure.”
She turned toward Qi Yu with a mild smile. Qi Yu looked at her and did not know what to say.
Xincheng Plaza was not far from the school—ten minutes by car. Few vehicles at night; they arrived faster than expected.
Midway Qi Xuan sent a string of messages. Qi Yu focused on replying; Jiang Ya drove in silence. Little more talk.
As the car turned along the small road past Xincheng Plaza toward the neighborhood, Qi Yu pointed out.
“Just the gate. Harder to drive in further.”
“Okay.”
Jiang Ya parked on the road before the complex. They got out together.
Qi Yu’s area was old city—facilities dated.
A sign on the outer wall read *62 Ning’an Road*. The entrance fit one car width—no gate card, no guard booth, no streetlight.
Two doors slammed shut. Qi Yu’s gaze settled on the person opposite.
“Thanks. Sorry to trouble you.”
“Don’t be so polite.”
Jiang Ya had thrown on a dark casual blazer, hands in pockets, standing still with no sign of leaving.
Qi Yu paused. Goodbye words stuck in her throat.
Dark all around, only a little moon on Jiang Ya’s face. She casually gathered long hair—every gesture elegant and restrained.
“Right—you said you had something to talk about?” Qi Yu’s eyes followed Jiang Ya’s movement.
“What is it?”
She saw clearly—Jiang Ya’s motion stopped a beat.
Then Jiang Ya looked at her openly. “There is.”
“But right now I want to ask you something more.”
Qi Yu’s heart tightened. Face blank. “What?”
Silence everywhere—any sound magnified.
Qi Yu heard Jiang Ya breathe deep, then gaze at her seriously.
“I’ve wanted to ask for a long time…”
“Back then… why did you delete me?”