Chapter 4: It Meant Nothing

The words landed. Qi Yu sucked in a breath—cold ran spine to crown.
*Why did you delete me.*
The words seemed to echo. A moment passed before she remembered she had to answer.
The impact was unlike anything in her twenty-odd years.
Not much less than confessing to Jiang Ya again.
She had no defense.
She never imagined Jiang Ya would stand before her one day and demand an account of that.
But what could she say?
Reason and logic nearly shattered on that sentence.
Her mind in pieces.
Qi Yu stood looking at Jiang Ya, body stiff, no expression, no movement.
After a long while her lips moved, as if forcing the words out: “Do… we have to talk about this?”
Or—didn’t Jiang Ya already know?
All of that was long past. Opening it now—what was the point.
Fortunately Jiang Ya did not press further. She lowered her head, hiding her eyes in shadow. “Sorry. I won’t ask.”
“But since we ran into each other today—add me back.”
Again—something Qi Yu had not foreseen.
She looked at Jiang Ya and wanted to ask: *Why bother?*
Even like this they could not be friends again.
Not anyone’s fault. Just fate.
Of course Qi Yu could not say that aloud.
She did not refuse either. Voice lower: “Okay. Sure.”
She saw Jiang Ya reach for her bag. “I’m in the parents’ group. I’ll add you when I get back.”
“That’s a work account—for parents only.” Jiang Ya did not look at her, quickly opened a QR code, held it up. “Add this. My personal number.”
Qi Yu had just scanned when Jiang Ya said: “You blocked my phone too, didn’t you?”
Qi Yu denied at once: “No. I stopped using the old one. Got a new number.”
Jiang Ya arched a brow, handed her the phone directly. “Fine. Put the new one in.”
“Want mine too?”
“……”
Qi Yu held Jiang Ya’s phone in both hands, dumbstruck.
Later she thought—she should not have agreed.
But maybe everything that night was too coincidental. Maybe Jiang Ya’s eyes on her were too bright. Maybe… she softened again.
Anyway, as if possessed, she nodded at Jiang Ya.
A smile that did not quite work. “Okay. Give it to me.”
.
Home was deep into the night.
Usually the hall lights were out by now. Tonight when Qi Yu returned, Qi Wenping and Qi Xuan were both on the sofa.
Qi Wenping watched TV, volume so low it lost to the sound of Qi Xuan crunching chips.
Both spoke at once when they saw her:
“You’re back.”
“Cousin!”
Qi Yu answered, changed shoes, glanced around, looked at Qi Wenping. “Aunt, where’s Mom?”
“This hour—she’s asleep.” Qi Wenping had just spoken when she shot up toward the kitchen, muttering: “Oh… almost forgot…”
Qi Yu’s gaze went from Qi Wenping’s hurried back to Qi Xuan.
Autumn already, weather cooling—this one still in short pajamas, hugging chips, oily fingers, long legs propped on the coffee table.
Qi Yu clicked her tongue, set her coat down, slapped Qi Xuan’s thigh. “How old are you. Sit properly. Feet off the table.”
“Nobody’s looking at home.” Qi Xuan said—but curled her legs back, scratched her head.
Qi Yu frowned, swatted her hand. “Gross. Didn’t even wipe your hands.”
Qi Xuan widened her eyes, thrust the hand in front of her—Qi Yu jumped. “This hand’s clean! Didn’t touch the chips.”
Then she turned back, aggrieved.
A moment later she leaned in, whispering at Qi Yu’s ear: “Cousin, I…”
Qi Yu was exhausted, eyes closed on the sofa. She pushed Qi Xuan away. “I know, I know, I know what to say. Let me lie down.”
Qi Xuan: “That’s not what I—”
Before she finished, Qi Wenping came with a bowl, cutting them off.
Steaming wonton noodles before Qi Yu. “Here, eat. Xuan said you had nothing tonight. You must be starving…”
“Should’ve said you were busy. Restaurant was dead tonight. I’d have gone…” Qi Wenping chattered on.
Qi Yu and Qi Xuan exchanged a look. Qi Xuan coughed, changed subject. “Cousin, that’s a lot. Can’t finish. Want to share?”
“You’re hungry now? Skipped dinner for junk food.” Qi Wenping scolded. “Your aunt made this for your cousin. If you’re hungry I’ll make you another bowl.”
Qi Yu’s chopsticks paused in the noodles. She glanced toward the bedroom.
“Oh right.” Qi Wenping’s voice from the kitchen. “What did the teacher say at the meeting tonight? Tell me after you eat.”
Still lost in thought, Qi Yu reacted slowly.
“Yu Yu?” Qi Wenping poked her head out.
Qi Yu was about to answer when Qi Xuan cut in. “Mom, cousin knows. Stop nagging…”
“Hey, those noodles—let me add two hot dogs…”
Qi Xuan got up toward the cabinet. Soon the familiar scolding over two hot dogs rose from the kitchen.
Qi Yu ate, listening, glancing toward the bedroom again and again, thoughtful.
.
Qi Xuan’s grades were not bad—just severely lopsided.
That was why Jiang Ya had kept her to talk today.
Her sciences were strong—math 142, top of the grade.
Liberal arts lagged—Chinese and English barely passing, other subjects below class average. No matter how proud her science scores, total rank dropped.
First two monthly exams had been easier. This midterm exposed the problem.
Class 4 was an honors class. Qi Xuan had held around fifteenth in class; this time past twentieth, grade rank down dozens of places.
Worried enough about Qi Xuan’s grades, Jiang Ya was still messaging Qi Yu past midnight.
Jiang Ya: 【She has real potential. Solid foundation, but liberal arts need reading buildup—you should push her more.】
Jiang Ya: 【This has to be taken seriously. It’s only the start. Bias gets worse later.】
Reading this, Qi Yu felt guilty.
She had just hidden most of that from Qi Wenping, only mentioning Qi Xuan’s strengths…
Jiang Ya chatted a while—mostly Jiang Ya sending, all about Qi Xuan. Qi Yu replied with single “mm” each time.
Finally the person on the other end seemed helpless:
Jiang Ya: 【Is that the only word you know?】
Qi Yu stared, stunned.
She lay on her side, curled up, phone against her chest. Screen white light harsh in the dark; she did not blink.
Jiang Ya: 【Are you going to sleep?】
Qi Yu shifted, breathed out long, typed.
Qi Yu: 【Soon】
This time Jiang Ya did not reply fast.
Two minutes later:
【Okay】
【Good night】
Good night.
Qi Yu stared at those two words.
A moment later she blinked dry eyes and dimmed the screen.
She tapped Jiang Ya’s avatar.
The avatar did not match her—a cute cartoon kitten in orange maple leaves, innocent eyes looking at Qi Yu through the screen.
Jiang Ya’s Moments were simple.
No restrictions. Qi Yu scrolled to the bottom—mostly scenery, book quotes.
Updates had been more frequent a few years back.
One day she had posted three lines of text.
“I don’t really understand.”
“So what did I do wrong.”
“Time will give the answer.”
Answer? What answer.
Qi Yu’s finger stopped on the date of those three posts.
The year she deleted Jiang Ya.
She froze, then swiped past quickly.
“Cousin, you asleep?”
The room was quiet. Qi Xuan’s voice made her jump.
They had shared a room since childhood—bunk beds. She knew Qi Xuan’s schedule. Past midnight and Qi Xuan was still up.
Rustling from the top bunk. Qi Yu asked: “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Qi Xuan’s voice sticky. “Can’t… maybe ate too much…”
“…Who told you to stuff yourself.” Qi Yu rolled over, kept at her phone. “If you really can’t sleep, sit up a bit. Tomorrow’s Saturday, no early rise.”
“Mm…”
The top bunk went quiet.
A minute of silence—Qi Xuan called again:
“Cousin.”
“What now?” Qi Yu arched a brow.
“I just remembered something I forgot to ask…”
“What?”
“Cousin…” A dark head poked down from the top bunk. “Are you… do you know our homeroom teacher?”
“What?”
Inside, Qi Yu jolted silent. Her whole body went stiff.
Qi Xuan: “I mean, do you know Teacher Jiang?”
“……” Qi Yu’s brow knit. Silence. Voice very low: “Why do you ask?”
“No reason.”
“Just—when you came back, I saw you get out of her car.”
Excitement in Qi Xuan’s tone—like digging up big news.
“Cousin, you really know Teacher Jiang, right?” She answered herself. “You must. Otherwise why would she drive you home?”
“How come you never told me you knew each other?”