Love Finds Its Time - Chapter 7

The next day, Shi Qingqiu woke up very early. Since her work had reached a stopping point, she could finally sleep early and rise early. In fact, she had gone to bed before ten the night before. With no need to go out, she kept her face bare and sat half-reclined in a lounge chair by the living room’s floor-to-ceiling window, a laptop resting on her legs as she leisurely watched a drama.

When Tang Honglang and Shi Jinghui returned from their morning exercise, this was the sight they saw—Shi Qingqiu, unusually at ease. The two elders sat on the sofa, one reading a newspaper and the other peeling an apple. Shi Qingqiu closed her laptop, planning to continue watching later in her room, when Shi Jinghui suddenly spoke.

“Qingqiu.”

“What is it, Mom?” Shi Qingqiu asked in puzzlement.

Tang Honglang’s glasses slipped slightly down his nose. He lifted his head from behind the newspaper to glance at the mother and daughter, as if waiting for the conversation to unfold.

Shi Jinghui still hesitated over what she was about to say. After all, it was about her daughter; something that had lingered unresolved for years. She feared bringing it up would only make her daughter recall the past, but she had no choice.

“It’s been so long… haven’t you liked anyone again?” Shi Jinghui moved closer to the sofa’s edge, holding out the peeled apple to Shi Qingqiu, her eyes filled with concern.

“Why do you ask that…” Shi Qingqiu gave a faint, twisted smile. The hand that had been reaching for the charger was withdrawn, and after taking the apple, she sat silently, meeting Shi Jinghui’s gaze. The sudden stir of memories from years ago left her momentarily dazed, not knowing what to say.

Liking someone again? How could it be that easy? Every time she thought that beginnings often only led to endings, she felt there was no point in struggling. If there was even the slightest chance things would end badly, why waste her energy at all? That was how the past few years had gone. Of course, there were people who liked her. But she no longer felt her heart stirred, nor did she want it to be. Whenever there was a possibility, she cut things off before they could begin. So how could one call that “liking”?

Shi Jinghui gently touched her daughter’s head, sighing. “I know you don’t like it when we always mention you and Qinghan together. Over the years, we’ve accepted that, too. We never meant to insist you two must be together. But, Qingqiu, people must look forward. You can’t stay in the past forever. And if that person truly wanted to come back, she would have, long ago…”

She was forced to lay bare the truth that Shi Qingqiu never wished to face: if someone truly wanted to stay, no reason could make her leave. Even if she had left, after so many years, if she wanted to return, she would have already appeared.

How much of one’s life can be wasted like this? She had watched Shi Qingqiu step into the entertainment industry after Qi Yue left, and later graduate into a life so busy she was almost never home.

It had been twelve years. Surely that was enough.

Shi Qingqiu froze, looking at her parents’ concerned faces. Her nose burned with sudden soreness. She remembered the year Qi Yue suddenly vanished—how she frantically called, asked every acquaintance, and found no one who knew anything. Like a lost soul, she had shut herself inside, never stepping beyond the door. Shi Jinghui had held her in her arms, trying to comfort her, as she wept until she could barely breathe, unable to speak a word. She had no idea what she had done wrong; what mistake was so great that Qi Yue disappeared without a single goodbye.

Because of one sudden appearance—Qi Yue—the dazzling, admired Shi Qingqiu, the one who attracted so many people, couldn’t even swallow food.

In those first few weeks, she dreamed many nights of Qi Yue’s gentle voice. 

“Qingqiu, I’m back. I won’t leave. Did you forget what I told you? I’ll never abandon you.”

Shi Qingqiu would reach out to embrace her, pleading in a way she never had before, whispering in her ear, “Little Yue, Little Yue…” But when she opened her eyes, there was nothing but sweat and tears staining her pillow, and the sharp ache in her chest. Qi Yue had left her nothing else.

Now, she couldn’t even recall Qi Yue’s face clearly. Even the first stabbing pain in her heart had blurred with time, or perhaps numbed. 

Pain long enough does numb.

A trace of guilt stirred in Shi Qingqiu’s heart. Her fingers tightened around the apple, and she said softly, “I know, Mom. I know. If she wanted to come back, she would have already…”

Shi Jinghui shook her head and held her daughter’s wrist but didn’t know what more to say.

Suddenly, Shi Qingqiu gave a small laugh, her eyes a little red. She set her laptop aside, covering Shi Jinghui’s wrist with her other hand to comfort her back. “But Mom, you’re overthinking. I can’t even remember her face anymore. Right now, I really just don’t like anyone. As for Qinghan, nothing will likely ever happen between us.”

Shi Jinghui nodded, regret in her voice. “We’ve watched Qinghan grow up. You’ve known each other so many years. But with no progress all this time, your father and I can’t force it. As long as you don’t dwell on the past anymore, we’ll be at ease.”

“I understand. Sorry for worrying you.” Shi Qingqiu smiled faintly and said no more, quietly eating the apple her mother had given her.

She was content with her life now. No relationships to maintain, no changes to fear. Her bond with Wen Qinghan was always calm, and in that lay a kind of security: neither of them would one day suddenly leave.

It’s easy for friends to become lovers. But to return from lovers to friends? That is far harder. Why bother?

Thinking of Wen Qinghan, Shi Qingqiu hesitated. Should she call? But since it was work hours, she decided to just send a message instead.

Back in her room, as she opened WeChat to text Wen Qinghan, a chat jumped to the very top. It was a message from Yao Rui.

“At home? Want to go out for a drink and a chat?”

Shi Qingqiu thought it had been a long time, so she replied with a simple “Sure,” and didn’t contact Wen Qinghan. Around noon, after informing her parents, she went out.

Yao Rui had been her college classmate. Back then, they had been extremely close. Yao Rui also knew about what happened to Shi Qingqiu in college. She had heard from others that Qi Yue had left City B for abroad. Otherwise, Shi Qingqiu would have remained in the dark, never knowing why Qi Yue disappeared.

By the time Shi Qingqiu arrived, Yao Rui was already there, waving her over as she adjusted her sunglasses. She signaled the waiter, and the two ordered coffee.

Yao Rui was petite, and though the same age as Shi Qingqiu, she always looked a year or two younger. In truth, though, she was ahead. Two years ago she had married her longtime boyfriend and now stayed home as a full-time wife.

“Qingqiu, when did you get back? Wasn’t your schedule really tight?” Yao Rui asked with a smile as she stirred her coffee.

“Just yesterday. I was going to rest a couple of days before finding you, but I figured I wasn’t busy anyway.” Shi Qingqiu exhaled, sipped her coffee, and asked, “So, why suddenly call me out today? Something on your mind?” Nothing much had happened lately around them, so she was curious about the sudden invitation.

Hearing this, Yao Rui pressed her lips together, thinking. Her fingertips tapped lightly against the cup before she smiled and shook her head. “What else? It’s just been too long since we met. I missed you.”

The joke lightened the mood immediately, though inside Yao Rui still wrestled with whether to speak her mind.

Since she had joked it away, Shi Qingqiu didn’t think further. She played with the little spoon in her cup, her bright eyes dimming as her smile faded. After a pause, she looked at Yao Rui. “Since we’re here, I might as well tell you something about me.”

Her matter with Wen Qinghan would have to be revealed sooner or later. Given their closeness, Yao Rui should hear it first.

“Go on,” Yao Rui said, frowning slightly. She had a gut feeling this wasn’t a small matter. Shi Qingqiu’s seriousness said as much. Depending on what she heard, she would also decide whether to reveal the news she herself knew.

“I registered my marriage with Qinghan. Half a month ago.”

About that marriage registration, Shi Qingqiu had never regretted it, nor entertained second thoughts. She spoke with utter calm, as if recounting something trivial. She was composed. 

But Yao Rui was not.

The words had barely left Shi Qingqiu’s mouth when the spoon slipped from Yao Rui’s hand, clinking sharply against the ceramic cup. “What did you say? Married? Do Uncle and Auntie know? How could you suddenly just get married?” She shot to her feet in shock, her voice rising. All the words she had held back since seeing Shi Qingqiu stuck in her throat, unspeakable now.

With Shi Qingqiu already married, Yao Rui wasn’t sure if she should still tell her what she had heard.

Finding it amusing, Shi Qingqiu glanced around. Luckily the place wasn’t crowded. She looked back at Yao Rui and tugged her arm down. “Little Rui, sit. Let me explain slowly.”

Reluctantly, Yao Rui sat, calming herself. Fingers laced together on the table, she braced herself to listen.

Leaning back, Shi Qingqiu gazed out at the bustling city. In the midst of it all, she felt her own smallness. A faint smile touched her lips as she spoke softly, words drifting into Yao Rui’s ears. “Don’t worry. I didn’t do it on impulse. And I don’t regret it.” She turned back, meeting Yao Rui’s eyes, her voice gentle. “Qinghan and I have known each other since childhood. Being together just makes sense. So many people have come and gone. But has she ever changed? Even if we’re ‘just friends,’ who says friends can’t spend a lifetime together?” She said it lightly, her gaze calm, without love; only companionship.

Yao Rui searched her eyes for regret, for hope. There was nothing. Only the stillness of stagnant water, lifeless.

“Qingqiu, you’re not waiting anymore?” Yao Rui couldn’t help but ask. Her eyes locked on Shi Qingqiu’s face, but Shi Qingqiu showed no surprise at the mention of the past.

“Qi Yue?” Shi Qingqiu’s eyes were as deep as the sea. She smiled faintly. “I never waited for her. From the moment she gave up on me and left, we were finished. I did seek answers once, but I was never waiting for her to come back.”

She never believed that after leaving so abruptly, any genuine love could return. If one truly cherished it, there would never have been such a decisive departure in the first place. So what use was there in waiting? She had never waited.

Yao Rui finally breathed out. The stiffness in her back eased as if the support had been pulled away, leaving her to lean back in relief.

The words that had choked her for days no longer needed to be spoken. The Shi Qingqiu of today neither needed to know—nor could she.