Love Finds Its Time - Chapter 3

Wen Qinghan’s weekends were always extremely leisurely, as they had been for years.

Some people spent weekdays complaining about why the weekend hadn’t come yet, only to feel empty and bored once it arrived, wishing they were busy with work instead. Wen Qinghan never complained, but she was deeply aware of just how idle her days off were, so idle that sometimes only work could accompany her.

After washing up, Wen Qinghan laid out the clothes she planned to wear on the bed. Her eyes happened to glance at her silent phone, and in her mind surfaced Shi Qingqiu’s expression from the day they registered their marriage, along with her calls and messages.

Three days had passed. As expected, there had been no further news from her.

The way Shi Qingqiu had informed her before leaving felt more like a perfunctory duty for the sake of their marriage than anything heartfelt, with no lingering attachment afterward.

That was how they had always gotten along. Not close enough to become inseparable confidantes, but never so distant as to cut off contact. From birth, their lives had been tied together by their families. They had been playmates since childhood, and up until marriage, they were friends.

Wen Qinghan’s hair was even longer than Shi Qingqiu’s, the smooth ends falling neatly down her back. She stood tall and still, her slender figure faintly exuding an otherworldly grace, an unspoken sense of elegance and purity.

Suddenly her phone vibrated. Wen Qinghan returned to herself, bent slightly to pick it up, and opened WeChat. In the family group chat, her mother had sent a message: Breakfast time.

Expressionless, Wen Qinghan tapped out a simple reply: Got it. Then tossed the phone back onto the bed. She opened her briefcase. Inside, aside from documents, was a diary with a white cover. She didn’t reread her past entries but flipped straight to the latest page. The blank sheet gave her pause after she picked up her fountain pen. It felt like nothing was appropriate to write. Compared to her past moods, her heart now seemed suspended in midair—neither rising nor falling, neither joyful nor sorrowful.

Her expression, as always, remained calm. Fingertips brushing the pen barrel, she finally leaned down and set the diary on her nightstand, wrote the date of her wedding day, and left behind a single firm line: We got married.

***

When Wen Qinghan entered the dining room, her father Zhao Chengxuan was sipping milk while reading the newspaper. He only lifted his eyes slightly to glance at her before focusing back on the paper.

Her mother Wen Wanyi beckoned. “Qinghan, come quickly, see what you’d like to eat.”

Though she owned her own apartment and usually stayed there during workdays, Wen Qinghan always returned to her parents’ house after work on Fridays to spend the weekend with them. It had been her routine for years, unchanged. Because of this, the meals at home were always adjusted to suit her tastes.

“Thanks, Mom. Just porridge for me.” Wen Qinghan smiled faintly, served herself a bowl, and sat down. After one spoonful, she murmured, “It’s delicious.”

Wen Wanyi used the communal chopsticks to place some food into her daughter’s small dish and smiled. “If it’s good, then eat more. You’re so thin, just like Qingqiu. The two of you may not look alike in other ways, but your appetites are exactly the same. You both never eat much. I worry so much, my hair is turning white.”

Born on the same year, month, and day, and growing up together, the two girls had always been compared by their elders. The Wen family did it, and so did the Shi family. In her parents’ eyes, Shi Qingqiu had always been the so-called “model child of others.” Wen Qinghan had heard this all her life, yet never minded.

She took another sip of porridge, lips curving into a small smile. “Then I’ll eat another bowl later to repay you, Mom.”

At that, Zhao Chengxuan looked up and asked casually, as he always did, “Qinghan, how’s work lately?” Unlike his wife, his questions almost always concerned her job.

“It’s going well, Dad, don’t worry.” Wen Qinghan put down her chopsticks and looked at him, then reported, “Recently, the cases at the law firm have mostly been small ones, nothing too taxing.”

Perhaps because of her profession, Wen Qinghan naturally carried a calming presence. Zhao Chengxuan nodded in satisfaction, folded up his paper, and said, “Good. Have breakfast, then go out and walk around. It’s the weekend. Don’t just work all the time.”

Seizing the chance, Wen Wanyi added, “That’s right. How about later you come with me to the supermarket? There are some things I want to buy.”

Without hesitation, Wen Qinghan agreed, “Sure, I’ll go with you.”

The truth was, Wen Wanyi only wanted her daughter’s company so she wouldn’t bury herself in work again at home. Yes, bury herself. No one knew what she did shut up in the study or her room every weekend, poring over a few files for two whole days. Knocking on her door would only break her train of thought, which was why they sent her messages on WeChat instead.

Talking about Wen Qinghan, Wen Wanyi could go on endlessly. Despite being born the same day as Shi Qingqiu, and both appearing quiet and well-mannered, their personalities were in fact very different. Shi Qingqiu, though calm, was much livelier than Wen Qinghan. Whenever she visited, she greeted Wen Wanyi and her husband sweetly, so the couple always looked forward to her coming. But because of her career as a well-known actress, she had rarely been able to visit in recent years.

While examining items on a supermarket shelf, Wen Wanyi suddenly asked, “Qinghan, I haven’t seen Qingqiu much lately. Did she go film on location again?”

Pushing the cart, Wen Qinghan answered calmly, “Yes. She said she’d be back in about a week.”

Wen Wanyi placed a jar of seafood sauce and a bottle of oyster sauce in the cart, then walked alongside her daughter. Once the topic of Shi Qingqiu began, she couldn’t stop herself. “Has she met any good young men recently? Or women? Especially ones with better prospects than yours. If so, you’d better pay attention—don’t just focus on work all the time.”

“No.” Wen Qinghan kept her gaze forward, adjusted the items in the cart, and added, “I mean, no suitable partners for a relationship.”

After so many years, how could she not know her parents’ intentions? From the time people started talking about teenage romances, Zhao Chengxuan and Wen Wanyi had hinted—sometimes subtly, sometimes bluntly. She always understood what they meant.

“No is good, no is good.” Wen Wanyi patted her daughter’s thin shoulder approvingly, half encouraging, half coaxing. “You mustn’t just bury yourself in work. Your father, I, Aunt Jinghui, and Uncle Tang—we’re all waiting for something to develop between you two. If you ever need us to arrange things, don’t hide it. Just say the word.”

Both families had been trying to bring these two together for over twenty years—ever since the mothers were still pregnant, they had planned to become in-laws.

Once the girls were old enough to understand, they were constantly paired together under different excuses. As adults, they were frequently asked about their progress. Yet after all this time, there had never been any real news to give hope. Back in her first year of college, Shi Qingqiu had caused a stir by saying she had a girlfriend. After that, the elders stopped pressing for a while. But now, with both still single, the parents naturally became active again.

“I don’t need anything, Mom. Stop worrying.” Wen Qinghan hooked her arm through her mother’s while pushing the cart, clearly reluctant to continue this topic.

Wen Wanyi tapped her lightly in mock reproach. “You ungrateful child, you don’t even appreciate our good intentions. If you keep dawdling, someone else will snatch her away…”

Wen Qinghan’s face grew still as her steps slowed, her gaze drifting farther away.

Back then, Shi Qingqiu had already begun to show striking beauty. Entering law school, she caused a sensation, with admirers increasing day by day, often gathering beneath her dormitory.

Even Qi Yue had been drawn to her like that.

That girl loved to laugh more than anyone Wen Qinghan had ever met—not even Shi Qingqiu smiled that much. At the start of university, Wen Qinghan and Shi Qingqiu still supported each other, but before long, it was Shi Qingqiu and Qi Yue who were inseparable.

Wen Qinghan had no standing to interfere, no right to remind Shi Qingqiu not to give her heart away so recklessly. Especially when she saw Qi Yue tiptoe and wrap her arms around Shi Qingqiu’s neck for a kiss—something changed within her.

How could someone already lost in passion be persuaded not to drown in it?

All she could do was grit her teeth and hide around a corner, watching Shi Qingqiu rejoice for Qi Yue, grieve for Qi Yue, and then helplessly let herself fall deeper into Shi Qingqiu’s abyss, unable to climb out.

“By the way, Qinghan, in a few days go to Aunt Jinghui’s place for me and bring something over.”

Her mother’s voice pierced through the fog of memory. Wen Qinghan lowered her gaze and answered softly, “Alright, I’ll remember.”

Unaware of her daughter’s distraction, Wen Wanyi moved on to the fruit section. While picking pears, she asked, “So, do you have any plans for a relationship lately? I’m not asking with whom, just whether you’re planning to.”

Wen Qinghan pressed her lips together, her hands tightening slightly on the cart handle. After a brief pause, she said quietly, “Yes.”

Wen Wanyi, long used to hearing “no,” was so startled by the sudden “yes” that she forgot to choose pears, turning quickly to question her.

Seeing this, Wen Qinghan cut her off in time. “Mom, I know what I’m doing. I’ll tell you when it’s time.”

She was always like this—calm and composed, so much so that everyone accepted it. Knowing she would get nothing more, Wen Wanyi only muttered, “Fine then,” and went back to the pears.

***

After shopping, Wen Qinghan accompanied her mother home. On the way back, she received a call from her law firm partner, Jian Yizhi. She said she urgently needed some documents at the firm, but had left her archive room key inside the room itself the day before, so she asked Wen Qinghan to help unlock it.

Jian Yizhi, prone to absentmindedness when busy, was one of three partners at the firm. She and Wen Qinghan were not only partners but also university classmates, so she naturally contacted her more often.

After dropping her mother off, Wen Qinghan drove to the firm and met Jian Yizhi in the lobby.

While searching for the key, she greeted her, “Lawyer Jian, working hard even on the weekend?”

Arms crossed, Jian Yizhi replied lightly, “And look at you, Lawyer Wen—going all out today with this casual look?”

The two had gotten along smoothly since university. Whenever they met, they always exchanged a few barbed remarks. Even with their steady temperaments, over time their bond had grown different from that with others.

Wen Qinghan didn’t argue. She brushed past and opened the archive room door. “Go ahead.”

Jian Yizhi chuckled, walked inside on her heels, and soon came out holding a folder. It seemed it had been placed in plain sight, just forgotten yesterday after work.

As she closed the door, Wen Qinghan said casually, “Yizhi, Qingqiu and I registered our marriage a few days ago.” She turned to look at her, and sure enough, surprise flickered across Jian Yizhi’s usually composed face.

She remembered that Wen Qinghan had indeed taken a day off then. Now that she heard this, the timing made sense. Her brows furrowed slightly as she asked meaningfully, “Does she know?” 

Being the only one aware of Wen Qinghan’s true feelings, Jian Yizhi’s question was clear in its intent. Wen Qinghan shook her head gently, voice as calm as ever. “She doesn’t. What I told her was that I don’t have time to meet new people for dating, so I suggested marriage for that reason.”

How such long-suffering love endured, Jian Yizhi couldn’t fathom. A flower without nourishment should wither. Yet Wen Qinghan kept living on, whether in strength or in fragile survival, she seemed to be holding on with all she had, striving toward a distant, unreachable end.

“This is a good start.” Jian Yizhi smiled faintly. She couldn’t understand such enduring affection, so she merely tapped Wen Qinghan’s shoulder with the folder and said, “If it were me, I wouldn’t have your perseverance. All I can say is—hang in there.”