CTJM - 20

Chapter 20: The Call

By the time she got home and took a hot shower, it wasn’t even 8 PM yet.

Min Rui hadn’t returned, so she was alone in the apartment. After drying her hair and lying down on the bed, the first thing she did was pick up her phone and stare at the friend request notification again.

...She still hadn’t accepted it.

Why not?

Did she not want to reconnect with him?

—Of course not.

In the seven years since they parted, there had been countless moments when she wanted to throw caution to the wind and reach out to him. Even while showering earlier, her mind had been restless, accidentally using body wash as shampoo, her thoughts consumed entirely by him, as if delaying any further would cause the friend request to expire.

And now?

Now that she had her phone in hand, she lacked the courage to press the green “Accept” button. She didn’t know what she was worried about, but an overwhelming excitement pushed her, making her anticipate what would happen after accepting it with intense curiosity.

...She should accept it.

At least to find out what he wanted to say to her.

Taking a deep breath, her heartbeat unconsciously quickened.

She pressed the button—

“You have added Wei Zhi. You can now start chatting.”

The QQ interface from eleven years ago suddenly flashed in her mind, overlapping with the current WeChat system notification. Fragmented memories always made her feel disoriented, and even at 29, she wasn’t immune to it.

—And then what?

Should she send a greeting?

No, she shouldn’t...

He was the one who wanted to add her, not the other way around. Why should she initiate? She had initiated too many things in the past, and now she no longer had the energy to do something as naive as she might have done over a decade ago.

So she stayed still, not even sending an emoji. Wrapped in her soft blanket, she clutched her phone and stared at the empty WeChat interface, thinking it would take a long time for him to respond. After all, he rarely checked his phone, only glancing at it occasionally during work breaks...

—Unexpectedly, this time was different.

Less than a minute after she accepted his request, the words “The other party is typing...” appeared at the top of the chat window. Her heart raced faster than ever. Since leaving campus and him, she hadn’t experienced such a reaction, but now it felt like time had reversed, and she was once again overwhelmed by emotions.

“Are you busy?”

He sent three words.

What a difficult question to answer.

If she replied “busy,” it would seem overly cold, immediately cutting off any possibility of continuing the conversation. But if she replied “not busy,” it would seem too eager, as if she had been waiting for him to contact her or at least hoping to keep talking.

She felt foolish, momentarily forgetting all the interpersonal skills she had honed in the workplace. Perhaps in front of him, she would always remain a little girl, incapable of playing mind games—she was even frozen, staring at those words without knowing how to reply, gripping her phone tighter and tighter.

After about five minutes, he sent another message—

“Xiao Xi?”

...That name again, stirring up chaos in her heart.

She pursed her lips, inwardly complaining. On one hand, she blamed him for being presumptuous, calling her by that familiar nickname even after so many years apart. On the other hand, she blamed herself for still being affected by it, her heart fluttering at the sound of that both familiar and distant name.

After a while, she finally flexed her stiff fingers and replied—

“I’m here.”

And he responded quickly again—

“Can we talk on the phone?”

Ah.

A call?

Why a call?

It was too much of a test... Voices were more intimate than text, more revealing of one’s emotions, and she didn’t want to appear vulnerable in front of him.

...Yet, she truly wanted to hear his voice.

Just like in the past... whenever something bad happened, she would long to be by his side. He would comfort her gently, easing her weary heart with rare warmth and sweetness.

—And now?

Could she still have that?

“Alright.”

After hesitating, she finally replied.

The moment her message was sent, his voice call came through. His familiar profile picture flashed on the screen, and that strange feeling surged again. Just hours earlier, she had confidently told Wei Chi that she understood herself, only to be proven wrong so soon.

“Hello.”

Pressing the answer button, she tried her best to sound calm and composed.

There was no immediate response from the other end, only the steady rhythm of his breathing transmitted clearly through the network signal—just like when he used to be by her side, except this time it lacked warmth.

After a while, she heard his voice asking, “Am I disturbing your rest?”

It was unclear whether it was consideration or mere politeness.

Her heart inexplicably felt hollow, suddenly tinged with sadness. She could only respond softly, “No.”

After a pause, she asked, “Did you need something, Senior?”

“It’s about rescheduling the next interview,” his voice remained as calm as ever, even more polite than hers. “Thursday afternoon works for me, but I just received notice that the library will host another event that day. I’m wondering if changing the location might affect the shoot?”

So it was about work.

On her end, she silently lowered her gaze. The inappropriate sense of loss was hers alone, but she managed to respond tactfully: “It’s fine. We can insert some cutaway shots or combine the interview content with other footage. Changing to a similar background shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Mm.”

He acknowledged, and then there was silence. She patiently waited for twenty seconds but still didn’t hear him say anything else.

Perhaps that was all.

“If you don’t have anything else, I’ll hang up now,” her voice dropped even lower, her loneliness hidden in the shadows. “On Thursday, we’ll...”

“Xiao Xi.”

He interrupted her farewell speech, still calling her by that name, his voice slightly deeper than usual.

“Wait a moment.”

Her palms were damp, and her heart felt like it was raining. She wanted to cry but quietly wrapped herself tighter in her blanket. “What is it?”

There was a brief silence on the other end. Perhaps at that moment, he too felt a bit lost and awkward—not as composed as she had imagined.

“Tang Fei and I are just friends...”

He finally said it.

“...We’ve always been just friends.”

Drip.

The rain grew heavier.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Her tone was a little harsh, sounding as if she were invulnerable, but in truth, her eyes were already moist. Maybe after being comforted, people tended to become more irritable because they knew someone would still bear the brunt of their emotional turmoil.

“It’s nothing...”

His temper was much better. A gentle man like him wouldn’t argue with her, though his voice carried a hint of a sigh, as if he had no choice but to accept her behavior.

“...I just thought I should tell you.”

A sly response.

She silently complained again.

“What about you?”

He asked again.

“What?”

She didn’t understand.

“Are you with someone else?” He stopped playing word games.

Ah.

She hadn’t expected him to ask so directly. The sound of rain paused for a moment, and mist began to rise. Her mouth felt dry. After pursing her lips, she asked, “...Why are you asking this?”

“So you really are with someone else?” His tone shifted slightly, like ripples forming on the surface of water. “Is it the person you work with?”

Who?

Wei Chi?

She should have answered “no,” but subtle emotions got the better of her. She told him, “He confessed to me today and said he likes me.”

...An evasive answer.

Silence fell on the other end again. Her heartbeat quickened, the thrill of taking a risk stirring in the shadows. She anticipated a strong reaction, yet couldn’t think of how he might respond.

“I also went on a blind date,” she continued, adding more weight to the precarious balance. “The guy was a bit unpleasant, so he came to help me, and we had dinner together.”

All true, but saying it this way made it sound ambiguous, especially since she omitted the part where she rejected the confession.

“So did you accept him?”

He was still sharp at pinpointing the key points, as if listening to her defense, leaving no room for ambiguity. Any small maneuver on her part would be immediately detected.

She froze, unsure how to respond. He patiently waited, as if giving a student time to organize their thoughts during questioning.

“...No.”

She finally told the truth.

It seemed like he chuckled lightly on the other end—a sound so faint she couldn’t be sure. It felt like a feather brushing against her heart, making it itch. She wished he were here now so she could lean against his chest and lightly hit him.

“Why didn’t you accept him?” He continued. “You don’t like him?”

“What about others?”

“You don’t like them either?”

—Could these even be called questions?

They were clearly leading.

He already knew the answers and was now guiding her to see her own heart.

“I don’t know,” all she could do was stubbornly insist, perhaps venting a little resentment quietly. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

See?

Even after seven whole years, she hadn’t forgotten how to pout at him.

This time, he really did laugh—a warm, low chuckle that came through the receiver. In the past, it would have been accompanied by a tender kiss, landing softly on her cool lips.

“Go on,” Teacher Xiao was guiding his student through solving a problem again, step by step. “We still have a lot to talk about.”

“No,” she continued to resist, her voice betraying more of her frustration. “I don’t want to talk to you anymore.”

It sounded like she was about to cry.

He seemed to sense the tears in her voice—his breathing grew uneven, perhaps out of concern for her. The next moment, he asked, “Should I come over?”

“Where are you?”

The faint dampness in her palms had turned into hot sweat without her noticing. At that moment, all she wanted was to see him immediately and throw herself into his arms, crying freely.

“I...”

Suddenly, there was a noise at the door—Min Rui had returned. She seemed to have had a bit to drink and was slightly tipsy, loudly calling out “Xixi” as soon as she entered.

Hearing the commotion, he asked, “Who’s here?”

“My roommate,” she sniffled softly. “Min Rui.”

He thought for a moment, as if recalling something. “Your roommate from your undergraduate days?”

...So he still remembered.

Her heart warmed a little, and the rain inside her eased. She softly replied with an “Mm,” then added, “I need to check on her. She might not be feeling well—I’ll hang up now.”

“Do you really not need me to come over?”

He asked again.

“...I’m a little worried about you.”

His overly gentle words were the tipping point for her tears. She felt like she couldn’t hold back anymore, and at the same time, she missed him even more—the him who had once been so, so, so good to her.

“No,” she quietly wiped away her tears. “Anyway, I’ll see you at school on Thursday.”

With that, she unilaterally ended the call in haste.

—This was yet another puzzling move.

What exactly were you afraid of?

Was it still like before... afraid of falling deeper in love with him?