Chapter 5: Changed

Qi Xuan’s words caught in Qi Yu’s throat.
Like a soft fish bone stuck there. Lips parted—answer or not, neither worked.
After silence Qi Yu said: “Yeah, we know each other. I graduated from No. 1 High too—same class as your homeroom teacher.”
“Ran into her at your parent meeting tonight. She gave me a ride on the way.”
“Whoa, that lucky!” Curiosity satisfied, gossip hunger deeper. “Teacher Jiang was your classmate? How close were you? Back then you…”
“Enough.” Qi Yu cut her off. “Does knowing her matter? What matters is you think hard about raising those Chinese and English scores.”
“I helped you this once. Not next time. No use begging.”
“Ugh, stop, I know…” Obvious rolling on the top bunk, voice muffled in quilt. “It’s not that I don’t want to learn. English grammar… so much I can’t remember…”
Qi Yu: “Can’t remember—read and recite more. I still have my old notes. I’ll dig them out tomorrow.”
Qi Xuan: “Got it, got it!”
“Tomorrow’s tomorrow. I’m sleeping.”
Afraid of another lecture, Qi Xuan dove into the blanket and went dead quiet.
Only that move worked on her—always had.
A few seconds to confirm the top bunk was still, Qi Yu slowly pulled out her phone.
Screen still on the chat with Jiang Ya.
Her “good night” had been ten minutes ago.
Qi Yu truly did not understand.
Maybe she had never understood how Jiang Ya thought, how she saw their relationship.
Did Jiang Ya really feel no awkwardness, no discomfort being friends with someone who had loved and confessed to her?
Qi Yu could not puzzle it out.
But the more she thought, the more her view shifted.
If Jiang Ya did not mind, why should she?
Seven years gone—why torment herself over Jiang Ya?
Who knew how many times she turned that night. Eyes closed how long. Mind was not Jiang Ya now but those years—countless times a quiet girl staring at Jiang Ya’s back.
All the courage of her youth might have been spent that graduation night seven years ago.
She had never blamed Jiang Ya.
She had pitied herself, though.
.
Their brief chat still ended at *good night*.
Qi Yu did not reply. Jiang Ya did not reach out again.
Their tie had always been thin. One touch in passing, then back into the crowd—each with her own life.
Things should have gone that way.
Until half a month later—
Nanliu in late November: days of rain, cold air, temperature plunging.
Afternoon, rain just stopped, sky still gray. The southern county sat under dull mist—not bright at all.
Rainy weekday afternoon. Across from No. 1 High’s gate, besides occasional pedestrians and e-bikes, only sanitation workers sweeping back and forth.
The whole row of shops was dead.
Especially an old milk-tea place open decades—usually students. School not out, business poor. Only two customers on the second floor.
“Why’d you quit suddenly? That job paid well, didn’t it?” Qi Yu leaned back in the chair, looking at the person across.
Counting up, she and Tang Xuejun had not met since after first year of high school.
Back then Tang Xuejun lived below her aunt’s place. Before Qi Yu moved in with her aunt, the two families visited often.
Her aunt and Tang’s parents were close. The day Tang’s family moved away, her aunt took her, both carrying heavy bags of fruit to see them off.
Qi Yu still remembered.
They had kept in touch though never met again. This year marked a full decade knowing each other.
Tang Xuejun seemed to have gained weight, face more mature.
Overall prettier than before—aura fit her job, proper office woman.
“It was good.” Tang Xuejun crossed long legs, toe dangling. “But big-city pace was too fast. No time of my own. Didn’t like it.”
“Main thing—I don’t like long-distance.”
She arched a brow at Qi Yu, slightly smug.
Qi Yu rolled her eyes. “Sure. You’ve got no money pressure anyway. No rush for work.”
Her father had gone out of town for business—rough first two years, then caught a break. Doing well these last few years. Tang Xuejun slid into rich-kid freedom—work optional.
Whenever Qi Yu thought of it she sighed: different fates for everyone.
“Still pressure…” Tang sighed lightly, saw Qi Yu staring out the window, looked too.
Their view was perfect—straight onto the school track inside the gate. Just rained; no students on the field.
“What’re you looking at?”
“Nothing.” Qi Yu turned back, leaned again. “Wondering when my cousin’ll come out so I can hand over the error notebook and leave.”
Second time back at school—again because of Qi Xuan.
Last time parent meeting. This time delivering the mistake workbook.
Without that she probably would not have “revisited” old ground.
“She can’t come out now. Ground’s wet. PE cancelled, right?” Tang said. “Just wait till dismissal. What’s the rush. Sit and chat.”
Qi Yu had no reply, picked up milk tea.
Tang still watched her, expression knowing.
“You’re not afraid of running into *her*, are you?”
She had heard plenty of Qi Yu’s love stories.
The line came from nowhere and choked Qi Yu.
“Cough cough cough…” Several coughs until her throat eased. “You’re overthinking.”
“Won’t run into her. Okay.”
She turned away, coughed lightly again.
“How do you know? You ran into her at the parent meeting. What kind of fate is that?” Teasing smile in Tang’s eyes.
*Bad fate.*
Tang did not say it aloud.
Confession failed, friendship broke—seven years later accidental reunion, other side initiates contact… Anyone would call it melodrama. Bad fate, what else?
Before returning to Nanliu Qi Yu had messaged her about it. Tang had been stunned.
Bringing it up again, Tang still marveled: “You know how I felt when you said you added her back?”
Qi Yu looked up.
“I thought I was reading a novel.”
“Turns out art really comes from life.”
Qi Yu: “……”
“But seriously.” Tang set the cup down, uncrossed legs, sat straight. “I think she’s not ordinary toward you.”
“Normal people—like me—if I met someone I rejected who then deleted me, I’d only have awkwardness left.”
“But her?” Tang counted on fingers. “She talked to you first, wanted your contact, asked why you deleted her…”
“That means she cares about you!”
“Who’d bother asking all that otherwise. I wouldn’t.”
Qi Yu did not fully deny it—only said slowly: “But what if we were really close friends in high school.”
“I deleted her because I couldn’t get over it—I never told her. From her side I might’ve seemed weird. Adding me back, asking why—maybe just because we used to be close.”
“I’m awkward because she still treats me as friend and I don’t anymore. Get it?”
Tang: “Got it.”
“Possible. But there’s another possibility.”
Qi Yu: “What?”
Tang dropped a bomb.
“Maybe she likes you a little… I wouldn’t do this to any friend…”
Qi Yu’s vision went dark.
“What’s that face. I’m serious. Doesn’t feel like friends-only.”
“Don’t be serious then.” Qi Yu twisted the straw at the cup bottom, firm. “That’s just what you think. Doesn’t mean she does.”
“Seven years no contact—suddenly likes me in those seven years? You believe that?”
No gap in Qi Yu’s words. Tang speechless a moment.
After a while one last question.
“Hypothetically—just hypothetically—you find out she doesn’t only see you as friend…”
“Would you like her again?”
Qi Yu did not think.
Head down, scrolling phone, two words:
“No.”
Tang: “That sure?”
Qi Yu: “Your what-if isn’t realistic.”
“Even if—like you said—maybe seven years ago I’d like her again. Not now.”
“Maybe I only liked her as she was then. Past that period—the me now might not like the her now.”
“People change.”
“She will. I will too.”
.
Around six at dusk, dismissal traffic peaked—heads everywhere.
Both sides of the school gate packed with cars. E-bikes clogged the center; security helped direct. Horns and noise mixed—chaos.
Qi Yu and Tang had waited early—from empty to flood.
Waited forever—still no Qi Xuan in sight.
Students kept pouring out. Someone jostled Tang; she looked back—blue-white uniforms, no sign of who she wanted.
She clicked her tongue, suggested to Qi Yu: “Just leave the notebook at security. Message her to pick it up. Why wait specially…”
Qi Yu was replying to Qi Xuan’s message, head down, ignored her.
Tang helpless. Basketball boys passed, sweat smell—she frowned.
She pulled Qi Yu aside, about to speak—then her gaze caught on a woman walking out the gate.
Features unclear—but tall slender frame, fair bright skin, striking in the crowd. Plain blouse and slacks looked quality on her.
The woman walked their direction.
Maybe sensing Tang’s stare, she looked up—but not at Tang.
She seemed to freeze, stopped.
“What were you saying?” Qi Yu had just finished texting, saw Tang staring behind her, stunned.
Qi Yu turned—
Eyes landed exactly on the woman behind her.
She froze too.
Jiang Ya.