I Woke Up And My Girlfriend Was Gone - Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Light flooded the small hall, making the once-cramped space feel vast.

The royal blue dress swayed elegantly on Shen Qingzi’s body, outlining her slender waist. Her words were laced with a smile, completely devoid of any intent to reprimand. She walked over from the side, intending to greet Xu Ji, but as she looked up and saw Zuo Yin standing beside him, the expressions of both women fractured into looks of profound surprise.

“Qingzi, I was just too excited,” Xu Ji said, completely oblivious to the shift in atmosphere. He pointed to the painting Shen Qingzi had restored. “This child recognized your handiwork. Tell me, isn’t she impressive?”

Perhaps it was tension or sheer shock that crashed through Zuo Yin’s already fragile verbal defenses; she didn’t say a word. She merely gave a slight nod to Shen Qingzi as a gesture of humility. As if intentionally trying to maintain a distance, she stepped away to stand on Xu Ji’s left side.

“She is very impressive,” Shen Qingzi noted the movement. She regained her composure quickly, responding as if nothing were out of the ordinary.

After that, neither of them spoke. The air, which had been full of lively chatter a moment ago, instantly froze. Xu Ji, caught between them, felt like he had the Siberian cold front on his left and an Arctic glacier on his right.

Shivering from the chill, he rubbed his arms and asked, “Do you two feel it getting cold all of a sudden?”

“Not at all,” Shen Qingzi replied. She glanced at Xu Ji and reminded him, “Perhaps it’s because you’re waving your fan too much, Professor? You’re still in short sleeves; you should be careful now that it’s autumn.”

“True enough,” Xu Ji nodded. He patted Zuo Yin on the shoulder. “I’ll go put on a jacket. You two should have a good chat. You’re the first person who’s been able to identify this painting.”

Hearing this, Zuo Yin couldn’t help but look toward Shen Qingzi. Her expression was neutral—not quite cold, yet not quite warm. A strange blend of distance and intimacy coexisted within her.

As if noticing the gaze, Shen Qingzi turned her head slightly toward Zuo Yin. Those dark brown eyes met hers again, just like that moment on the camel, but this time the gaze lingered.

Looking at the girl who was staring blankly at her, Shen Qingzi answered for her, “Alright.”

“I’m off then,” Xu Ji nodded with satisfaction and waved as he left the hall.

The soft overhead lighting suddenly felt colder. Neither of them had expected to meet again in such a setting today.

Shen Qingzi looked at the section she had repaired and asked, “How did you know?”

Zuo Yin stared at the same spot and replied simply, “Intuition.”

Shen Qingzi was surprised by the answer, yet it also felt somewhat appropriate. She turned fully toward Zuo Yin, a trace of a smile finally appearing in her eyes. “That accurate?”

Zuo Yin gave a small nod. “Yes.”

She had looked at Shen Qingzi’s The Girl in the Conservatory countless times. The brushstrokes and techniques were etched into her memory.

The light fell squarely on Zuo Yin’s thin shoulders, highlighting a silhouette that was remarkably upright yet heartbreakingly fragile. Only then did Shen Qingzi notice that Zuo Yin was still wearing the same frayed palm-colored jacket from Dunhuang.

Inexplicably, Shen Qingzi thought of the painting she kept hidden at home. She thought of the damp, dilapidated red-brick house she had visited yesterday. And she thought of the exhausted girl under the bright lights of the convenience store, struggling to stay awake.

First in the Oil Painting Department, but short on money. What a waste.

Suddenly, Zuo Yin felt something soft press against the top of her head. A warm current flowed from Shen Qingzi’s palm into her body. Her heart, usually heavy and quiet, began to beat violently. She turned her head in shock, only to see Shen Qingzi’s softened expression and her cherry-petal lips moving.

“Zuo Yin, I hope you’ll consider the studio selection this weekend.”

It wasn’t just gentleness; it was a pull. Zuo Yin almost surrendered to the soul-stirring warmth in Shen Qingzi’s eyes.

“I don’t have money for classes,” Zuo Yin whispered. Reality was a relentless reminder.

“It doesn’t matter,” Shen Qingzi replied.

If tomorrow’s assessment confirmed she was the author of that painting, Shen Qingzi wouldn’t mind truly becoming her teacher.

Zuo Yin thought that Shen Qingzi might not understand the depth of helplessness behind the words “no money.” She looked at Shen Qingzi’s face and wanted to say something, but ultimately swallowed the story of her past years. She reached up, took hold of Shen Qingzi’s wrist, and removed the hand from her head.

“Thanks.”

The delicate scent of flowers lingered on her fingertips, but Zuo Yin stuffed her hands into her pockets and walked away with her head down. She craved the tenderness Shen Qingzi gave her, but she knew her pain was hers alone to carry; she couldn’t drag Shen Qingzi down with her.

She had been alone this whole way. Now, later, and forever.

…

The next day was bright and clear. Zuo Yin was buried deep in a chaotic dream when she was jolted awake by a series of phone vibrations. She groanningly reached out to turn off her alarm, only to realize it wasn’t hers.

“Hurry up, get up!” Zhang Zhang whispered urgently, patting Xu Xu in the bunk opposite.

“Ugh…” Xu Xu’s response was weak, but she finally silenced the vibrating alarm.

Zuo Yin’s furrowed brow relaxed, and she turned over to go back to sleep. But today, the bathroom was tragically un-soundproof. Even with the door closed, the sound of the faucet, the flushing toilet, and their chatter reached Zuo Yin’s ears with perfect clarity.

Zuo Yin hadn’t slept well. Her mind had been restless, tossing and turning until she finally drifted off at midnight into a series of fragmented, nonsensical dreams. Now that the others were getting ready, sleep was impossible.

She checked her phone: 7:00 AM. Usually, those two weren’t this motivated for class, but they were certainly eager for the Yiji Studio entrance exam.

“Sigh,” Zuo Yin exhaled.

Even though Shen Qingzi had invited her yesterday, Zuo Yin still didn’t intend to go. She had no money and no time. Having received that one word of recognition from Shen Qingzi was enough for her.

After a night of activity, the Weibo trending topics had shifted to celebrity gossip. Zuo Yin skimmed the news until the dorm fell quiet again. They were gone.

She waited a bit longer to ensure no one was coming back, then got out of bed to head to her part-time job. Her long, pale legs stepped onto the pink foam-padded ladder. With one hand on her phone and the other on the rail, she climbed down in her unkempt state, only to find Yuan Yuan sitting there eating a mango.

Zuo Yin had never dressed so lightly in the dorm before—just a simple black camisole and shorts that barely covered the tops of her thighs. The two stared at each other; Yuan Yuan forgot to close her mouth around the mango.

“Morning,” Zuo Yin said, initiating a rare greeting out of awkwardness.

“Morning. Want some mango?” Yuan Yuan pushed the fruit toward her.

“No, thanks,” Zuo Yin declined as usual, threw on a loose shirt, grabbed her toiletries, and headed to the bathroom.

Yuan Yuan’s gaze remained glued to her. She had never seen Zuo Yin’s real silhouette beneath the layers of baggy clothes. Usually, everyone thought it was a miracle to see her knees; today she’d seen her thighs. People had speculated she had some hidden ailment—scars or skin discoloration—but Yuan Yuan saw that Zuo Yin had a beautiful, slightly athletic body.

Actually, Yuan Yuan was just lucky. Zuo Yin hadn’t been home for half a month, so her various injuries had faded. Even the bruise from the ashtray Zuo Lan had thrown at her collarbone a month ago had healed.

Standing before the mirror, Zuo Yin looked at the smooth skin of her collarbone. She felt like a weed—no matter the wind or rain, she would always grow back, stronger and more unkillable than before.

“Xiao Yin, aren’t you going to the Yiji Studio assessment?” Yuan Yuan asked curiously.

“I didn’t sign up,” Zuo Yin replied flatly.

Yuan Yuan looked genuinely disappointed. “Ah… what a shame. You’re the top of our department; you’d definitely pass.”

Zuo Yin smiled thinly. She had heard this countless times. She had moved from bitterness to complete immunity. I can’t even afford to eat, let alone take an exam. She carved another notch into her own heart, drawing blood from a wound that had just begun to scab.

“Did you know? Word is Shen Qingzi will be there in person. Everyone is so hyped. I missed the cut in the first round, but I’d give anything to see her in person!” Yuan Yuan shared the gossip.

Zuo Yin stopped brushing her teeth and turned around. Yuan Yuan continued, seeing her interest. “It’s a first! The news hit the group chats last night. Maybe she’s decided to stop hiding her beauty, or… Xiao Yin, do you think she’s doing it for someone? Like there’s a student she’s actually interested in?! That’s wild—whoever is impressive enough to make Shen Qingzi show up…”

A spark of shock flashed in Zuo Yin’s eyes. The minty toothpaste foam felt icy against her tongue.

“Zuo Yin, I hope you’ll consider the studio selection this weekend.” “It doesn’t matter.”

Shen Qingzi’s face from yesterday reappeared in her mind—gentle, appreciative. Her hand had brushed through Zuo Yin’s hair, warm and soft. All night, Zuo Yin had been wallowing in self-defeat, avoiding the implications of those words.

Could it really be…?

Her heart hammered against her chest like a drum. An unbelievable thought surfaced. She checked the time on her phone. There were thirty minutes until the start. If she rented an electric bike at the gate, she could make it.

She washed her face hurriedly, changed into clean clothes, and bolted out of the dorm.

The weather was colder today. The wind whipped against her forehead, but Zuo Yin pressed her lips together and pedaled hard up the slope.

Anticipation. Longing. No one had ever made her act this impulsively.

The wind roared past her ears as she crested the hill, and the lush green studio campus appeared before her. She didn’t want to let her down. She didn’t want her to wait in vain. Even if it was the tiniest possibility, she had to see for herself.

The second hand ticked away. Sitting on a high stool, Shen Qingzi looked at her watch for the tenth time. The room was filled with eager, vibrant faces, but not one belonged to the girl in the worn jacket.

“It’s almost time. Shall we begin?” Zhou Lin asked, holding the test papers.

“Wait a moment. Two more minutes,” Shen Qingzi said.

She didn’t know what she was waiting for. If the child had decided to come, she would have been early. But she wouldn’t give up until the final second. She believed the child would come.

Tick. Tick.

The second hand was on its final half-circle when a frantic set of footsteps echoed down the empty corridor.

Zuo Yin, her face flushed red from the wind, burst through the door, gripping the frame. She was panting for breath, her pure black eyes searching for Shen Qingzi.

“I’m… not late, am I?”