Dating Myself - Chapter 45

An Mu finished reading the messages, pressing her forehead in exasperation. She knew without guessing that Maomao must have been spouting nonsense again.

Maomao was generally a good person, but she was sometimes stubbornly persistent, which was headache-inducing. Fortunately, she hadn’t become obsessed with Qin Yige’s matter; otherwise, it would have been even harder to deal with.

She brought up Jian Yixi’s phone number and called her back.

The phone was picked up instantly after just one ring. Jian Yixi’s voice was hoarse with fatigue, yet she sounded relatively energetic.

“An Mu, you finally turned on your phone.”

“Sorry, I forgot to take my phone when I went to the airport to see my mom off today.”

“I see…” A nervous throat-clearing sound came from the other end. “Then… those messages… did you read the ones I sent?”

“I did.”

“Then… what do you think?”

Listening to Jian Yixi’s voice, which was a mix of tension and embarrassment, An Mu didn’t realize she was teasing her, intentionally saying, “Of course, I think with my eyes. What else would I use? My finger?”

“An Mu!” Jian Yixi’s tension was instantly mostly dispelled by the playful retort. “This isn’t the time for jokes!”

“I’m not joking. I’m quite serious.”

“You!” The sixteen- or seventeen-year-old girl was still too shy. Although she was no longer very nervous, she still stammered for a long time before managing to squeeze out one sentence: “Then… do you agree… do you agree?”

“Agree to what?”

“To… da… date.”

“Dating early means inviting parents to school. Have you forgotten?”

“Then, are you saying… we should date after we get into Tsinghua?”

An Mu finally stopped joking and spoke seriously: “What I mean is, I don’t want to date, and I don’t like anyone. I told you last time, don’t listen to Maomao’s nonsense.”

The other side fell silent. After a long pause, she managed to say, “Actually… it wasn’t entirely because of Maomao. I was a little scared myself. I’m not stupid; I can feel it. Starting from that day of the fake meet-up, you’ve been a little different. And now you suddenly say you’re transferring schools. Even if I try to convince myself it has nothing to do with me, I… I can’t fool myself.”

An Mu understood Jian Yixi; the girl was always sensitive, especially concerning the people she cared about.

She didn’t want to add to Jian Yixi’s psychological burden at this critical time, so she avoided the difficult point, saying, “If I truly had feelings for you beyond friendship, with such a great opportunity right in front of me, why would I reject it? I should be overjoyed, shouldn’t I?”

The opposite side fell silent again, and after a while, she sheepishly mumbled, “That actually… makes a lot of sense.”

An Mu couldn’t help but smile. “We just talked about eternal friendship on Chinese New Year’s Eve. Why are you already becoming suspicious today? Do you know what this is called? Severe lack of security. It’s more obvious with people you care about. I’m starting to pity your future husband.”

This line cleverly eased the atmosphere, which had been somewhat tense. Jian Yixi grumbled, “What nonsense are you talking about? What husband? How old am I? I don’t even have a boyfriend yet.”

“True. Look at my memory. Since you’ve bent (come out as gay/bi), I should be saying wife instead.”

“An Mu! If you embarrass me again, I’m going to get angry! [fiercely-pouting-cat.jpg]”

An Mu held back her laughter: “Alright, I won’t tease you anymore.”

“Then… can I ask you a favor?”

“Can you delete the chat history?”

“Just that… I…”

A sound of embarrassed humming came from Jian Yixi.

“Good An Mu, please just delete it. It’s so embarrassing.”

An Mu refused without hesitation: “No, I won’t delete it.”

“I told you I won’t delete it. Ten or twenty years from now, when your kids are old enough to buy soy sauce, I’ll bring it out to laugh at you.”

“The most vicious woman’s heart! You’re so cruel! [vomiting-blood.jpg]”

Jian Yixi, who had been tossing and turning for more than ten hours, couldn’t quite explain why, but as long as An Mu said she wouldn’t break off the friendship, she believed her. It seemed that no matter what An Mu said, she could believe it, which was completely different from how easily Maomao could make her waver after going to great lengths.

In fact, Maomao couldn’t persuade her on just anything; only things involving An Mu could shake her.

An Mu was right. Worrying about those you care about truly does cloud one’s judgment. The more important the person is, the easier it is to lose oneself.

An Mu gave Jian Yixi a few more instructions, such as paying attention to safety when living alone, checking doors, windows, electricity, and gas valves, or even renting out half the apartment. She suggested renting it to a girl the same age, preferably from the same school. This would give her companionship and the rent could be used for living expenses—killing two birds with one stone.

Jian Yixi grew more dispirited the more she listened and refused the suggestion to rent it out.

An Mu didn’t press the issue. The security in that housing complex was quite good, so living alone was actually fine.

Early in the morning on the eighth day, Chen Han knocked on An Mu’s door on time. The two of them didn’t have a specific goal; they just walked around and ate at various places, intending to buy some gifts for friends in France along the way.

For lunch, Chen Han suggested having Yuan-yang Hot Pot (divided pot with two different broths: one spicy, one mild), with a tomato broth and a numbing-spicy broth. She said eating this kind of authentic Chinese meal, which is meant for several people, alone felt too lonely, so she needed at least two people. Chen Han said she had been craving it for a long time but had no one to accompany her.

An Mu was actually a hidden foodie, though not an obvious one. In her previous life, she hadn’t had the time to enjoy gourmet food. In this life, she’d only enjoyed student favorites like spicy stir-fry pots, sweet potato noodles, grilled cold noodles, and oden. Come to think of it, since her rebirth, she truly hadn’t eaten hot pot even once.

The two hit it off and specifically went to a highly-praised century-old hot pot restaurant.

They were close in mental age, enjoyed shopping together, and their tastes were compatible. On the surface, they truly looked like very close confidantes with excellent chemistry.

As the two were eating and chatting, a WeChat message from Jian Yixi came through. It was a photo of a family banquet, with a table full of eight dishes and one soup, including chicken, duck, fish, and various meats. At first glance, it looked quite presentable.

[Meng Xibitan]: I made it all myself!

An Mu involuntarily curved her lips into a smile, reaching out a finger to reply.

[SmokeRainBoat]: I don’t believe it. I’ll only believe it when you get into Tsinghua and make it for me in person.

[Meng Xibitan]: (⊙o⊙)…​ I’m going to Tsinghua to be your chef?

[SmokeRainBoat]: Isn’t that right?

[Meng Xibitan]: Can we still happily love and cherish each other?!

“Who are you chatting with? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you smile so genuinely.”

Chen Han scooped a cooked shrimp paste ball into An Mu’s dish. Her gaze inadvertently swept over the phone screen and caught the phrase “love and cherish each other.”

“It’s Jian Yixi.”

“Ah, it’s her. Is she doing well now?”

“She’s doing great.”

“The Jian family is busy with their own problems now, so they probably don’t have time to bother her.”

An Mu scrolled up the chat, clicked on the family banquet photo, and looked at it closely. Sure enough, the table of dishes couldn’t stand up to scrutiny; the presentation was truly not commendable, though she wondered about the taste.

An Mu had never eaten Jian Yixi’s cooking and genuinely wanted to try it.

The image was full-screen, visible across the table. Chen Han’s slightly narrowed eyes shifted, a gentle smile floating on her lips, and she moved to give An Mu some glass noodles.

“What delicious thing has you so engrossed? Do you want to eat it? We can go have it tonight.”

“No, this was made by Jian Yixi herself. She couldn’t cook before, but she just learned these past few days.”

“Oh? She learned to cook and made a whole table? That’s quite talented. Let me see what she made.”

It was just a photo, and An Mu didn’t think much of it, turning her phone to show her.

“They’re all simple home-style dishes, like Chestnut Chicken, Steamed Fish, Sweet and Sour Pork Ribs, and the like.”

“The fish looks good. The sauce looks thick; it’s quite appetizing.”

Chen Han reached across the table, zoomed in on the photo, and moved her finger around, examining the details. Somehow, she accidentally tapped too much, and the photo exited. An Mu, who had been tilting her head to watch, immediately turned her phone back.

In the chat box, the last WeChat message from the day before was right next to the family banquet photo.

An Mu didn’t know if Chen Han had seen it or not.

But it didn’t matter. The word ‘like’ could have many meanings, especially between two girls, so Chen Han might not think much of it.

Even if she did think more deeply, so what? For An Mu, Chen Han was less a friend and more a person to whom she owed a favor. Once she repaid the favor, this relationship could be terminated at any time.

Chen Han seemed not to have noticed, still sighing over Jian Yixi’s cooking skills.

“This is really very good. I remember when I first learned to cook, I only managed to fry eggs with tomatoes after six months. My rice was either too soft or too hard every time. Back then, I used a regular steamer, added water, put in a basket, and then placed a bowl or pot inside, steaming the rice and my small crispy pork together.”

“In any case, you both can cook, and I can’t at all.”

“You don’t need to be so humble. The sushi you used to make for me was delicious, and so were the Xue Mei Niang (mochi balls) and the cream puffs. Oh, and the cakes you baked were also very tasty.”

An Mu’s expression cooled slightly, and she said flatly, “I don’t remember.”

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t remember; it’s enough that I remember.”

Across the table, Chen Han’s gold-rimmed glasses reflected a cold, white light. The eyes behind the lenses were as deep and dark as the ocean. The surrounding noises seemed to fade away, leaving only the sound of the hot pot bubbling, and perhaps the subtle sound of her slender lashes brushing against the lenses.

Chen Han left the next day. Before she left, she posted another ambiguous Weibo message.

(One says that one’s rise or fall leads to different interests, yet who knows that those of the same kind naturally seek each other out?)

This line is from Lu You’s poem, Farewell to Shi Wuzi, Prefect. When An Mu helped Jian Yixi apply for a Weibo account, she was stuck on the username. In a flash of inspiration, she thought of An Mu’s Weibo name and, by extension, remembered this poem, naming Jian Yixi’s account Linjiangbie (Farewell at the River).

“Longing to bid farewell at the river’s edge, my eyes search through the smoke and rain boat of Xiling.”

What was originally a lazy choice by someone bad at naming unexpectedly caught Chen Han’s attention.

This Weibo post, predictably, led to another round of criticism from Liang Sirui, who repeatedly warned An Mu never to encourage Chen Han. She insisted that Chen Han, despite her good looks, was fundamentally a scumbag who should be eradicated.

Fortunately, Chen Han had left. Liang Sirui’s outrage eventually subsided, and coupled with the demanding schoolwork and An Mu changing her phone number, Chen Han was generally unable to contact An Mu. She gradually faded out of their conversations.

The atmosphere in the new school was good. An Mu was in the fast-track class, and unlike the mixed student body of tuition payers and test-takers at Weicheng No. 2 Foreign Language School, most students here were top scholars who had tested in. Their mindset was different. They had started practicing with the Five-Three (a famous test prep book) early on. Other than studying, the students rarely discussed anything else, at most contemplating which university and major they would choose, or which professor was better.

An Mu’s background of studying abroad was nothing special in Beijing, and no one paid excessive attention to her. Everyone was focused on studying, studying, studying, wanting to divide time down to the second.

In the blink of an eye, two months passed. An Mu felt as though the semester had just begun, yet it was already time for the mid-term exam.

On the last day before the exam, An Mu finished her practice problems and got into bed. As was her habit, she checked her phone for a moment.

[MeowTheCat]: I’m going to die. I dropped two places again in the mid-term exam. If my mom kills me, remember to burn me a computer, a villa, and a smartphone. It would be even better if you could send two handsome guys too!

This was a message in the small group chat they three shared.

[Meng Xibitan]: Two places is a normal range. It doesn’t mean you’ve fallen behind; at most, you just haven’t improved. How about this: come to my place this weekend, and I’ll tutor you.

[MeowTheCat]: Good, good, good! I’m so grateful! That way, my mom will nag me a little less! Q.A.Q.

Since the message didn’t directly involve her, An Mu didn’t participate in the chat.

She scrolled through the rest and saw Liang Sirui’s usual ramblings. She casually replied to a couple of messages, turned off her phone, and went to sleep.

The next day, she focused on the exam. Her phone remained off all morning. When she turned it on during lunchtime, she found a text message about an international express delivery, notifying her that a package had been delivered and placed in cabinet number X of the locker bank.

The exam was scheduled for two days. After the afternoon session, she had the rare chance of not having evening study hall. She detoured to pick up the package. The sender was Liang Sirui.

She hadn’t mentioned it. Why did she suddenly send something over?

An Mu pulled up Liang Sirui’s WeChat and tapped out a message. As the elevator doors opened, she was so engrossed in looking at her phone that she almost bumped into someone after taking two steps. She looked up, and Chen Han’s gold-rimmed glasses, reflecting a faint light, were right in front of her. A smile hovered on the other woman’s lips.

“So focused. Messaging Jian Yixi again?”