Dating Myself - Chapter 50

Liang Sirui remained silent for a moment before offering an explanation.

“I did send her a package, and it was indeed a necklace, but it absolutely was not a Mobius necklace. The Mobius strip signifies an endless loop, symbolizing the eternal love between lovers. There’s no way I would have sent that.”

“Then what did you send?”

“I’ll send you the sealing photo later.”

Before sealing and shipping valuables, anyone with a little experience will take a photo as proof, or even a video recording of the entire sealing process, to prevent disputes over lost items.

Even with added insurance, doing this is absolutely worthwhile.

The call ended, and the photo arrived quickly. It was a necklace from the same brand, designed to look like a splashing water droplet, primarily featuring small diamonds and sapphires. Compared to the deep symbolism of the Mobius strip, this style was decidedly girly, light, and unique.

In such a short time, Liang Sirui wouldn’t have had time to fake it. This was clearly real.

So… had An Mu lied to her?

No, that couldn’t be. There had to be some detail she hadn’t noticed. An Mu wouldn’t lie to her.

“I know this is hard for you to accept, but it’s better to have a sharp pain than a prolonged one. It’s better for both of you to let go now, while your feelings for An Mu aren’t yet that deep. If this keeps developing, do you want to end up with no friendship left at all?”

No friendship left at all.

Jian Yixi’s pupils contracted. She suddenly looked up at Chen Han. No matter how frantic her heart was, she insisted firmly, “An Mu wouldn’t lie to me. I believe her!”

Chen Han stared back, her face placid as still water, her dark eyes like an ancient, rippleless well—unfathomably deep.

“Your trust is truly moving. But by changing the subject, are you suggesting you won’t give up on An Mu?”

“What is there to give up on? An Mu and I are just friends!”

“So I misunderstood? That’s wonderful. An Mu said you’re like a child. Of course, she didn’t mean you’re childish and willful, but that you evoke a protective instinct in her, like a parent protecting a child. She feels pain when she sees you wronged. She genuinely cares about you, and losing you would definitely upset her.”

What was Chen Han saying? What did she really mean?

Did she really think Jian Yixi was too naive to understand the implied meaning behind her words?

Why did she have to drag their pure friendship into the realm of romance?

And why was she herself so agitated?

Could it be that An Mu felt this same annoyance when Jian Yixi used to suspect An Mu liked her? So annoyed she wanted to shove an egg, shell and yolk, into her incessantly talking mouth?

Chen Han finished peeling the carrots, then took out the potatoes and began peeling them.

“An Mu is just soft-hearted despite her tough talk. Deep down, she has already forgiven me; she’s just being stubborn verbally. Look, she’s wearing the couple’s necklace I gave her. When I mentioned around the New Year that I wanted to return to China to develop my career, she transferred back to Beijing. I came here to celebrate her birthday, and although she acts distant, she gave me a whole apple to eat. Do you know what an apple signifies?”

—An Mu transferred schools because of her? No! I don’t believe it!

—Even if you were An Mu’s teacher, please stop giving yourself so much credit!

Jian Yixi was flustered and didn’t want to engage, but politeness compelled her to reply, “I don’t know.”

Chen Han smiled, “I figured you wouldn’t know.”

—Then why ask me! You’re nearly thirty; can you stop being so awful!

“An Mu used to smile a lot, not the shallow, almost invisible smile she has now, but a dazzling, radiant, and brilliant one. Whenever she smiled, her face would look especially round, her cheeks rosy, a world of difference from her cold beauty when she didn’t smile. I bet you’ve never seen it.”

“Because her smile was so adorable, I always called her ‘pomme,’ which is French for ‘apple.'”

“She really looked like a sweet little apple when she smiled. It always made me want to… take a bite.”

Clang!

The ladle she had just picked up slipped from her hand and fell onto the counter. Jian Yixi turned to look at Chen Han, her smile thin and forced.

“That’s certainly a… pretty good metaphor.”

Chen Han was about to say something else when Jian Yixi loudly interrupted: “Let’s hurry up and cook! Look, it’s almost eight o’clock, and we haven’t even finished one dish. An Mu must be hungry.”

Chen Han’s red lips, which had been half-open, slowly closed. She smiled meaningfully. “Alright.”

After that, the two barely spoke, apart from the occasional, “Hand me the salt,” or “Where’s the sugar?” There was no other unnecessary communication.

The two worked on their separate dishes, and a table full of food was soon ready. They carried the dishes to the dining table and set the tableware. Jian Yixi glanced at the faint light on the second floor and started to go up to call An Mu for dinner, but Chen Han suddenly stopped her.

“Thank you for helping me so much today. You rest for a bit. I’ll go call her.”

What had she helped her with?

In the time it took Jian Yixi to momentarily freeze, Chen Han was already going upstairs.

An Mu was tired from working through practice questions when Chen Han knocked and entered.

“Dinner’s ready, An Mu.”

“That nickname feels a bit awkward.”

“My apologies, I was used to calling you that. If you don’t like it, I’ll try to change it. If I slip up and say it again, please don’t mind.”

It was just a name; there was no need to make a big deal out of it.

“A name is just a designation. It doesn’t matter.”

An Mu closed her notebook of mistakes, stood up to rub her sore neck, and walked to the door, where Chen Han blocked her path.

“Did you tell Jian Yixi everything?”

This was a question out of the blue.

“Did you tell Jian Yixi about our past?”

An Mu had anticipated that Chen Han might try to trick Jian Yixi with her words, but she wasn’t concerned. As long as it didn’t involve danger, she wouldn’t interfere too much with Jian Yixi. Children who are slow to mature often have parents who interfere too much; appropriate setbacks can promote healthy growth.

An Mu looked at Chen Han, her gaze clear. “I have amnesia. I don’t remember anything. Did you forget, Sister Han?”

“Meaning… you didn’t say anything?”

“Because I don’t remember.”

Chen Han smiled, “It seems one of you two is lying. She said you told her everything about us, and you say you didn’t. I don’t know much about her, but I know you very well. You’re just an… dishonest little imp.”

As soon as she finished speaking, the atmosphere instantly became somewhat tense. Chen Han then added, “Just kidding, don’t take it personally. I’m just a little jealous. You used to tell me everything, but now you’ve changed to someone else.”

An Mu knew perfectly well that Chen Han was an old hand, with every word a trap that could catch her off guard if she wasn’t careful.

Asking if she told Jian Yixi everything was meant to test if she truly had amnesia. If she truly had amnesia, what could she have possibly told Jian Yixi?

Calling her an dishonest little imp was also a subtle hint that Chen Han didn’t believe in her amnesia, attempting to provoke her emotions and make her inadvertently reveal herself.

The last sentence appeared to be an apology, claiming it was a joke. In reality, the phrase, “You used to tell me everything, but now you’ve changed to someone else,” was also an intentional or unintentional probe. If An Mu didn’t refute it, it would be interpreted as confirmation that she really had told Jian Yixi.

Chen Han was a very intelligent person, but also very stubborn. She had decided that An Mu was faking amnesia to escape the past, and even her verbal traps were all aimed at confirming that An Mu had not lost her memory.

Should she be called excessively stubborn? Or should An Mu pity her as pathetic and sad? Or was it merely excessive confidence and arrogance?

An Mu didn’t know how to evaluate Chen Han. Armed with the experience from her past life, An Mu had her own unique standards for judging people. She didn’t think Chen Han was arrogant. Although An Mu lacked artistic talent, she could tell that Chen Han’s designs were all gentle and non-aggressive, just like Chen Han’s intellectual and elegant image, without any trace of ostentation.

The Chen Han before her was inscrutable.

Nor did An Mu want to waste too much energy on someone who was fundamentally unimportant to her.

An Mu said calmly, “I am grateful that Sister Han helped me, and I’m happy that you came all this way to celebrate my birthday. However, I hope that today will be the last time I have to emphasize the fact that I have amnesia.”

“Please stop trying to test me. Perhaps you believe I’m faking amnesia, but I personally see no need to pretend. Disagreement hurts feelings. If we can’t reach a consensus, then the only option is to keep our distance.”

Chen Han was slightly stunned, but only for a moment. In the blink of an eye, she recovered her usual elegance and gentleness.

“You’ve truly changed a lot. You’re clever and sharp, a complete world away from the willful crybaby you used to be. I almost don’t recognize you.”

Chen Han took off her gold-rimmed glasses, closed her eyes, and lightly pressed the corners of her eyes, showing a hint of fatigue.

“I understand. I won’t test you again, and I won’t bring up the memory issue anymore. I’ll just do what I believe I should do.”

An Mu made no comment and walked out of the study.

The meal was harmonious, at least on the surface. Chen Han was poised and elegant, yet able to speak wittily. She could break the ice in even the dullest dinner setting, making people follow her conversation topics involuntarily.

“I almost forgot, the fruit wine is still in the refrigerator. I’ll go get it.”

Jian Yixi subconsciously said, “An Mu has an exam tomorrow, and we’re all minors. Maybe we shouldn’t drink?”

Chen Han laughed as she walked, “It’s called wine, but the alcohol content is actually very low, similar to pineapple beer. An Mu used to love this flavor the most. I wonder if she still does.”

The chilled fruit wine gave off a faint, sweet aroma that was tempting just to smell. When tasted, it had virtually no alcohol flavor; it was refreshing and thirst-quenching, perfect with the table full of dishes.

Although Jian Yixi only made three dishes—Chestnut Chicken, Tomato Scrambled Eggs, and Mushrooms with Greens—and their presentation was mediocre, they were all An Mu’s favorites, with a reasonable balance of meat and vegetables. An Mu ate quite a bit.

Chen Han’s dishes were mostly seafood, such as braised sea cucumber and pan-fried salmon with corn sauce. These were probably what the original An Mu liked. Although they tasted good, and their presentation was gorgeous enough for a screensaver, An Mu didn’t eat much of them. It wasn’t that they tasted bad; on the contrary, they were quite delicious. She simply didn’t favor them.

Chen Han was highly observant and clearly noticed that An Mu frequently chose Jian Yixi’s dishes over hers. However, she showed no sign of displeasure, remaining cheerful and talkative.

This was exactly like being offered an old-fashioned popsicle and Haagen-Dazs at the same time, but An Mu chose the popsicle.

Regardless of what Chen Han was thinking, Jian Yixi finally cheered up. She didn’t need to consider so much; all she needed to do was trust An Mu.

It was almost eleven o’clock after dinner. Jian Yixi and Chen Han vied to clean up the dishes and urged An Mu to go study for a while longer.

An Mu said helplessly, “Don’t bother cleaning up. Just put them in the sink. I’ll find a deck of poker cards, and we can play for a bit.”

Jian Yixi suggested, “Putting sticky notes on the loser is boring. Let’s change it to drawing turtles. Whoever has the most drawings on their face before midnight does the dishes.”

Jian Yixi originally thought Chen Han wouldn’t agree to this, but unexpectedly, she was the first to nod, and she even suggested using an eyebrow pencil to draw the turtles since it would be easier to wash off.

An Mu grabbed a light brown eyebrow pencil, and the three of them played the simplest version of “Run Faster” (a card game).

Ten minutes before midnight, Jian Yixi leaned heavily against the back of the sofa, her face covered in drawn turtles, looking utterly defeated.

—This is too devious! It’s one thing for Chen Han to be devious, but why is An Mu like this, too?!

—They clearly had cards that could beat hers, so why didn’t they play them? It tricked her into thinking she was certain to win, but every time she was about to finish her hand, they would jump out and beat her!

Seventeen-year-old Jian Yixi still hadn’t fully grasped the universal truth that the older the ginger, the spicier it is (a metaphor for experience/wisdom).

At exactly midnight, the candles were lit and the lights were extinguished. Amidst Jian Yixi’s shy rendition of the birthday song, An Mu made the first birthday wish since her rebirth.

—May Jian Yixi soon learn to stand on her own two feet, so I can leave and live the life I want.

In the flickering candlelight, the sharp edges of An Mu’s face softened. Gone was her intimidating cold beauty. She looked hazy, as if filtered, gentle and lovely, making it impossible to look away.

Jian Yixi stared at her unblinkingly, her dark eyes shining brightly.

—An Mu, do you know that the birthday wish I made on the eighth day of the lunar year was… for your birthday wish to come true.