The Lady I Flirted With Is Here - Chapter 34

Chapter 34: Depression

Six full pages—a long, agonizing chronicle of a secret crush endured over four years.

Lin Xian had never imagined that she would one day be the sun in Wen Chao’s world. Even knowing that the “warm and sunny” Lin Xian in Wen Chao’s memory was merely a phantom, she was still shaken.

No one is entirely without joy when receiving a confession, but it depends on the person. Having been confessed to countless times since childhood, Lin Xian could practically prepare a script with her eyes closed—one that let the other person down easy without hurting their self-esteem. But this time, seeing a four-year-old crush laid bare on paper, she felt panic and immense pressure.

On one side was a four-year friendship; on the other was a sudden confession from Wen Chao while Lin Xian was already in a relationship. It didn’t come early or late; it came exactly now. It was impossible for her to return those feelings. If she were going to like Wen Chao, she would have fallen in love the day they met, not after four years of being friends. Lin Xian couldn’t help but probe Wen Chao’s psyche, and she couldn’t help but scrutinize their relationship: Wen Chao was excellent, but they were a mismatch.

In all fairness, Wen Chao was a standout girl, but she sat just outside Lin Xian’s boundaries. The type of person Lin Xian fell for was a girl who felt “clear and clean”—a standard for a partner that was hard-coded into her sensitivities. Her first impression of Wen Chao involved messy clothes and a rebellious face, reminding Lin Xian of a butterfly lingering in a nightclub—someone to admire from afar, but not to touch.

It wasn’t until late at night, after much deliberation and hesitation, that a nearly thousand-word message finally landed on Wen Chao’s phone. Lin Xian’s tone was tactful, but she expressed four key points:

1. A clear, unambiguous rejection. Past, present, or future—she could never love Wen Chao, especially knowing Wen Chao was aware of her current relationship. She understood that love can be uncontrollable, but love is not an indulgence that breaks ethical boundaries.

2. Respect for their past. The four-year friendship was real. If Wen Chao was willing, she would still be her friend, but she respected whatever choice Wen Chao made.

3. No intentional leading on. She had been unaware of these feelings and had never befriended Wen Chao with the intent of playing with her heart.

4. Genuine gratitude. She was happy to be loved and moved by Wen Chao’s bravery. However, her happiness and Wen Chao’s love were separate things. She believed Wen Chao would eventually find a girl who truly appreciated her and whom Wen Chao could love in return.

Wen Chao couldn’t sleep after receiving the message. Even though the result was expected, perhaps a tiny sliver of hope had remained. She thought Lin Xian might be angry, ashamed, or even curse her—that they might not even be able to be friends. She hadn’t expected Lin Xian to handle it so flawlessly. Even the way she was rejected commanded respect.

She walked to the balcony, lighting one cigarette after another. These four years had been absurd; this secret crush was a result of her own lack of courage. People in their circle praised her for living boldly—tattoos, rock music, bands, trends, freedom—but the real her didn’t even dare to confess. How could she not know what Lin Xian liked? But it felt like changing for Lin Xian would mean losing face. On one hand, she numbed herself with her own “excellence”; on the other, she loathed her own hypocrisy. It made sense—someone like her was not the type Lin Xian would ever love.

The face of her rival, Fang Daiyu, flickered in her mind—it was a truly hateful face. Yet she had to admit that Fang Daiyu was superior. In her words and actions, she exuded a mature, caring style. Look at Lin Xian’s friends—they were won over by a single meal. Meanwhile, after four years, Lin Xian’s friends still kept their guard up around Wen Chao. Even the easygoing He Yao would throw a sarcastic jab her way now and then.

…

For two days straight, Lin Xian looked unwell. She was worried, avoided eye contact during video calls with Fang Daiyu, and frequently spaced out in class. When she went home for dinner, Jingjing finally couldn’t take it: “Xianxian, what has been wrong with you lately?”

Lin Xian was torn about whether to tell Daiyu about Wen Chao. The confession was absurd, and telling her friends felt like she was subjecting Wen Chao to subjective criticism. Lost and without a clue, she finally told Jingjing—the one who usually gave her the best advice.

“I never in a million years thought she would confess!” Jingjing’s eyes widened in shock. “Wen Chao is out of line. As a friend and as a secret admirer, she handled this poorly.”

Jingjing shook her head and looked at Lin Xian: “Now, I finally understand why you won’t accept her.”

From Jingjing’s tone, it sounded like the whole world knew Wen Chao liked her. Lin Xian didn’t want to discuss it further. She only cared about one thing: “Should I tell Daiyu?”

“There’s no need.” Jingjing thought Lin Xian was being too naive. “Between couples, if you’ve solved it, let it be. Telling her will just lead to an argument. Why bother? Xianxian, don’t place too much importance on love; you’ll get hurt.”

After Jingjing spoke, Lin Xian’s anxiety spiked. In her lifelong expectation of love, two people had to be sincere with each other.

The next day, Fang Daiyu called. Lin Xian had just crawled out of bed after a nightmare: she and Daiyu were walking on the street when a group of middle-aged thugs tried to kidnap her. Daiyu stepped forward to protect her, only to be forced into a car and driven away. Lin Xian had cried for a long time in her sleep, soaking her pillow. She had wanted to call the police or Daiyu’s family, only to realize she had no contact information for them.

With tear stains still on her face, Daiyu teased her: “Whose kid is crying in the middle of the night?”

Lin Xian felt awkward and didn’t want to mention the dream. Her main task upon waking was: “Daiyu, let’s exchange emergency contact info for our families. I’m afraid that if something happens, I won’t be able to reach your people!”

They swapped contacts. Thinking about Lin Xian’s distracted behavior over the past few days, Fang Daiyu finally asked with concern: “Have you run into trouble lately? Lin Xian, I want you to be clear—you are my girlfriend!”

“I’ve always known that!” Lin Xian looked at the screen, her eyes wide, but she couldn’t fool Fang Daiyu.

“Tell me, what happened?” Fang Daiyu watched Lin Xian’s eyes start to dart away and reminded her: “Being a ‘girlfriend’ means you can rely on me.”

Lin Xian told her about Wen Chao. She couldn’t go against her heart; she didn’t want to hide anything from Fang Daiyu. When she finished, Daiyu’s face went dark. There was a smile in her eyes, but it was the kind of smile that made Lin Xian’s heart race with fear.

“I don’t have any feelings for her beyond friendship!” Lin Xian swore.

“I believe you.” Fang Daiyu nodded, her voice turning sharp: “My flower is so beautiful that it’s bound to attract passersby. But if a blind passerby keeps trying to steal the flower, can you blame the owner for being angry?”

“I am not your flower!” Lin Xian’s face turned red with anger. And she definitely wasn’t—definitely wasn’t—the property of some “owner.”

“You don’t want to be my flower? Are you planning on climbing over the wall?” Fang Daiyu’s voice tightened. Even through the screen, Lin Xian felt the threat in her words.

Lin Xian retorted: “I belong to myself! I was planted by my mother!”

“Objection overruled. The mother-in-law’s flower will eventually have to be moved to my house.” Lin Xian didn’t want to talk to Fang Daiyu anymore. This person looked refined and gentle on the outside, but who knew she was so “corrupt” on the inside?

Seeing Lin Xian’s expression, Fang Daiyu knew she was about to hang up.

“Xianxian, I’m jealous.” The soft, vulnerable admission hit Lin Xian right in the heart. “I’m jealous that she spent four years with you. I’m even more jealous of how you constantly defend her. Deep down, you’re still making excuses for Wen Chao. You’re afraid to lose her as a friend and you want to keep in touch, right?”

“I…” Lin Xian was speechless. She didn’t understand. Her conscience was clear; she had never crossed a line. That was exactly why she was being transparent—she wanted Daiyu to feel secure. She wanted Daiyu to hear about Wen Chao from her, not from rumors. Love was important, but a four-year friendship was also important. When she was down and helpless, she would never forget that Wen Chao was the one who stood up for her.

Since childhood, her mother had taught her: one must be grateful and repay kindness.

“See? You can’t let go.” Fang Daiyu’s words felt like a hammer striking her heart. Lin Xian remained silent.

“Xianxian, in any relationship, the partner would want you to make a clean break.” Fang Daiyu delivered her final point. “Think about it. Is Wen Chao more important, or am I?” The video call ended. A single tear rolled down Lin Xian’s cheek.

On the other side of the network, Fang Daiyu grabbed a throw pillow and tossed it aside, then irritably kicked over an empty trash can. She opened her door and headed toward her company, her face dark with frustration.

…

Over the next two days, Fang Daiyu didn’t call Lin Xian once. Lin Xian was furious. She picked up her phone countless times only to put it down again. She began to wonder if her relationship with Daiyu was too impulsive. Because their meeting had been so sudden and beautiful, she had deliberately ignored many issues: Were their personalities compatible? Were their thoughts on the same wavelength?

She submitted her problem anonymously to a popular lesbian blog. Below the post, the comments were a sea of “break up” advice:

“Don’t ask, just break up!”

“With possessiveness that strong, the OP needs to think. Four years of friendship vs. impulsive love? Experience tells me: never make love your everything. Bye-bye to the old, hello to the new!”

“When a friend is gone, they’re gone. Love? Single dogs don’t even know what that ghost of a thing is!”

“What era is this? Why is she controlling you so much? Sister, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is all on her. Trust is a lie! Who knows what secrets a girlfriend with such strict demands is hiding? Honest people always get bullied!”

Lin Xian turned off her phone, her head a mess. She had been having nightmares for two nights—either she was breaking up with Fang Daiyu, or she was falling back into her past depression. She realized it had been a long time since she had visited the counseling center. She dialed the number. The psychologist in charge of her, Dr. Wang, didn’t have an appointment that afternoon. Lin Xian bought a bouquet of flowers and rushed over.

…

The spacious counseling room was divided into two areas: one side had a sofa and coffee table, while the other held a sand table and shelves filled with an array of figurines.

Dr. Wang was a woman with a tranquil aura. This time, Lin Xian sat on the sofa, staring at the blank wall opposite her, and poured out the story of her relationship and Wen Chao. After listening, Dr. Wang asked with a smile, her voice like a trickling spring: “Fang Daiyu sounds like a great girl.”

“Of course she is!” Lin Xian’s eyes lit up at the mention of Daiyu. “That was the first time I saw my ideal partner. Dr. Wang, do you know? It was like a dream from my youth coming to life.”

“Do you love Fang Daiyu?” Dr. Wang asked.

“Of course! I’ve never met anyone like her.”

“Does she love you?”

Lin Xian hesitated. “Maybe? Actually, I’m not sure. She rarely says she loves or likes me. Everything she does feels like love, but it also feels like… something is missing.” Lin Xian’s voice trailed off. “Maybe I’m not good enough, not perfect enough. If she doesn’t love me, that’s normal.”

“If she didn’t love you, why would she be dating you?”

“Dr. Wang, you don’t understand. My sixth sense is very accurate. I often feel that Fang Daiyu is only dating me because of my appearance, or because of the version of me I showed her when we first met. The real me isn’t that perfect. I curse, I’m clumsy, I can be rude, and I occasionally crack dirty jokes with the guys. But the ‘me’ in front of her is different.” As Lin Xian spoke, a secret she had kept buried for a long time seemed to find release.

“I love her, and maybe she loves me. But I’m afraid she only loves the fake version of me. She doesn’t know I’ve suffered from depression. She hasn’t seen me losing my mind or wanting to end it all. She hasn’t seen me when I’m a disheveled mess. But Wen Chao… Wen Chao has seen all of that.” Thinking of the past, Lin Xian’s nose stung with impending tears.

“She asked me who was more important, her or Wen Chao. In my heart, if she truly loved me, I would choose her. But I hesitated. I’m not sure about our future, and the only thing I can hold in my palm is a friend who has witnessed the real me over the last four years.” Tears fell. Dr. Wang handed her a tissue.

“I once thought I’d grow old alone, so I cherished my friendships immensely. Maybe the universe thought I was too pitiful and gave me this wonderful love. I’m trying to give Daiyu my everything, but facing this choice between friendship and love, I don’t know what to do.”

Lin Xian talked for over an hour. Dr. Wang listened patiently. Every patient has a different way of healing; some need guidance, while Lin Xian simply needed to vent and self-analyze. Indeed, after this deep introspection, Lin Xian reached her own conclusion.

“Can friendship and love really not coexist? The more I think about it, the more I feel selfish and ugly, wanting to hide the demons in my heart. I probably feel I don’t deserve Fang Daiyu, so I’m shrinking back in insecurity.” Lin Xian looked helplessly at Dr. Wang.

Dr. Wang walked over and gave Lin Xian a hug: “Now, let’s talk to ‘Manman’.”