To Get Married - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

The cold violence of school life can easily break a person. With only half a month left before the Gaokao, Zhang Ziyun took a long leave of absence accompanied by her mother, bringing her books home early to study.

During that time, Lu Yudong sent her a message of concern. The reply was brief: “I’m fine, nothing’s wrong.”

Manzhu said that after taking leave, Zhang Ziyun still went to work at the bar every night. Her mental state seemed no different from usual; she appeared not to care anymore. Hearing this, Lu Yudong felt slightly relieved.

In the two weeks leading up to the Gaokao, Yudong did not go to the bar a single time.

She admitted to herself that she simply didn’t know how to face Zhang Ziyun anymore. Coincidentally, Ziyun no longer messaged her every day to come to the bar like she used to.

That night on the school bleachers, under the dim moonlight, Ziyun had asked: “Aren’t you afraid that saying things like that will make me unable to leave you?”

In that instant, Lu Yudong realized with a start that something had quietly changed a long time ago.

“You’re too good, I’m liking you more and more.”

“How are you so nice? I’m never going to be able to leave you!”

“Let’s stay together forever, okay?”

Over the past six years, Ziyun had said so many similar things that Yudong had become completely desensitized to them. Like the smell of the cafeteria food, the scent of alcohol at the bar, or the cool taste of water, these words were so ordinary they weren’t worth mentioning.

It was precisely because they were so ordinary that she had overlooked the deep meaning hidden within them—meanings she had no way of reciprocating.

Lu Yudong cared about this friend. Even if she was sometimes led by the nose, and even if she knew her efforts might not be matched, she never kept score. Even if Ziyun had many friends and she was just one of them, Ziyun would always be the most important one in her heart.

But she couldn’t accept the distortion of their friendship.

When did it start changing? Was it that night at the bar when Ziyun poured her heart out? It seemed since then, Ziyun had become increasingly considerate and caring.

That novel sent to her phone—was it an accident or intentional? The story of the clueless roommate and the secretly pining landlady—was it a coincidence or a design?

They were already in the same city with plenty of chances to meet, yet Ziyun insisted they study the same major and go to the same university…

Ziyun had given her so many hints and shared so much of her heart over the past two years, yet Yudong was only realizing it now. Faced with a feeling she couldn’t return, Yudong began to feel overwhelmed.

She didn’t know if choosing to avoid Ziyun now would hurt her, or if showing concern would lead to further misunderstandings. She didn’t even dare to speak the truth, because right now they could at least pretend to be oblivious. If the words were spoken aloud, they might never be able to face each other again.

For a moment, she felt a trace of relief that Ziyun hadn’t protested her deliberate distancing.

It turned out she, too, was afraid of stepping into the wrong distance in an inappropriate relationship. She realized that when such problems happened to her, she didn’t necessarily handle them any better than anyone else.

What worried her more was that while she felt overwhelmed, she also felt a creeping fear. She feared that if one day she couldn’t help but reveal her own “distorted” feelings to Manzhu, would Manzhu also feel overwhelmed and instinctively distance herself?

The thought made her incredibly uneasy. But like the timid, sensitive child she was, she hid that unease deep in her heart—kept in a place no one else could reach, right next to her little secret.

Before the Gaokao, Manzhu accompanied Lu Yudong to check her exam hall. In the past, the person by her side would have been Zhang Ziyun. But not this time. The best friends who once shared everything hadn’t contacted each other in half a month. At most, they exchanged a few words after seeing their respective halls—words as plain as a casual greeting to an acquaintance on the street.

This deliberate estrangement was too obvious; Manzhu noticed the anomaly quickly.

She didn’t know what had happened. The two girls who were inseparable just a while ago suddenly stopped contacting or even mentioning each other. This situation made Manzhu worried, yet she couldn’t help but feel a secret spark of joy.

On the day of the Gaokao, after seeing Yudong into the exam hall, Manzhu went to the bar early and called her two old friends down from the second floor. For people who usually didn’t sleep until 3 AM, this was far too early. They were yawning as they listened to her.

Manzhu was distracted, her mind consumed by curiosity about the two girls. After rambling incoherently for a while, she looked up and asked, “Do you guys know what happened?”

Mu Chenshan: “How would we know? Little Yudong didn’t even tell you.”

Manzhu sat at the bar pensively, her eyes a bit vacant. “Their relationship suddenly soured. They must both be feeling bad, but I… I just can’t help feeling happy.”

Yan Zhaomu silently pushed a glass of freshly made lemon juice toward her.

Manzhu took it and took a sip. She winced at the sourness. “I know, it’s wrong of me to gloat. I’m probably not a good person.”

“Give it a rest. You aren’t even a person to begin with, so stop worrying about being ‘good’ or ‘bad,'” Mu Chenshan said, pouring himself a glass of water. “What’s this? Have you been a human so long you’ve developed a moral compass? You never self-reflected back when you were a tyrant, did you?”

“That’s different,” Manzhu shook her head.

“How?”

“Yudong is different.” Manzhu struggled to describe it. After a moment, she said seriously, “It’s… it’s like if I slapped her, my heart would ache. But if I slapped someone else, at most my hand would ache…” She shook her head again. “No, actually, my hand probably wouldn’t even ache.”

With her spiritual power, hitting an ordinary human really wouldn’t hurt her hand at all. This was said with such blunt honesty that it wasn’t surprising coming from her.

“Fine, double standards. I get it,” Mu Chenshan said. “Don’t overthink it. Since you’re happy, just take it as a good thing.”

“But I still don’t understand. Don’t they like and care about each other?” Manzhu asked. “What would make you two stop talking to each other?”

“This… well… you see…” Mu Chenshan suddenly choked, his gaze darting toward Yan Zhaomu. His survival instinct kicked in: “I wouldn’t dare stop talking to him. It’s always him ignoring me.”

“So why would you ignore him?” Manzhu turned to Yan Zhaomu.

Yan Zhaomu hesitated. “He’s noisy.”

“I…” Mu Chenshan’s expression was priceless. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and nodded. “Yes. I am noisy.”

Manzhu tried to process this and concluded: “Yudong thinks Zhang Ziyun is too loud?”

“Mhm, yeah, sure. You’re probably right.” Mu Chenshan’s tone was dismissive.

“It seems that’s not it…” Manzhu’s temper was much better lately; she didn’t get angry at the dismissal. She took another sip of the lemon juice and frowned. “Why is it so sour today?”

“Sour is good. It suits you right now,” Mu Chenshan said.

“It’s really too sour.” Manzhu’s brow was furrowed tight.

“Maybe there’s not enough honey,” Mu Chenshan suggested.

“Add some then.” Manzhu pushed the juice back to Yan Zhaomu. He added more honey, and she took it back for another sip.

Mu Chenshan asked, “Not sour anymore?”

“Less sour.”

“Good. Most of the time, the mouth and the heart are the same. If it feels sour, just find some sweetness.”

If it feels sour, find some sweetness?

Manzhu leaned her chin on her hand, lost in thought. A few seconds later, it clicked. “I understand.”

Mu Chenshan nodded with satisfaction. “Good.”

Manzhu said, “It doesn’t matter why Yudong and Zhang Ziyun fought. What matters is that Yudong must be feeling bad lately. I have to find a way to make her happy. Like adding honey to lemon water…”

Mu Chenshan: “…”

Yan Zhaomu: “…”

Manzhu slapped the table. “Don’t just stand there. Help me think—what does Yudong usually like?”

Mu Chenshan pursed his lips. “What else could that girl like? She has no desires, she just loves clinging to—”

Manzhu’s eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t say Zhang Ziyun!”

“No one was going to say Zhang Ziyun!” Mu Chenshan felt like he was suffocating.

“Take… take her on a trip,” Yan Zhaomu said. “You pro… promised.”

Manzhu’s eyes lit up. She stood up and hurried away, leaving behind the half-finished lemon water. Mu Chenshan and Yan Zhaomu shared a look and shook their heads in unison.

Yan Zhaomu poured the leftover juice down the drain and began washing the glass. Mu Chenshan chewed his thumb and stretched. “You know, Man Shan Hong is a three-thousand-year-old demon. Why does she turn into such a fool whenever it involves Lu Yudong?”

Yan Zhaomu was silent for a moment. “Too clever… not good.”

Being a bit of a fool wasn’t a bad thing. People who were too clever often ended up ruining good things with their own schemes.

Manzhu wondered what happened between the girls. Mu Chenshan didn’t know, but Yan Zhaomu saw it clearly. Ziyun worked right next to him every day. He could tell that even though she didn’t show it, her mental state was off. She was heartbroken… or rather, a relationship had ended before it even began.

This was a good thing for Manzhu. At least there would be no one trying to seduce her easily-swayed little girl every day.

He probably wouldn’t need to prepare lemon juice for Manzhu anymore, but then again, he probably wouldn’t have anyone to help him wipe the glasses either.

The final exam of the Gaokao was over. As soon as she handed in her paper, Lu Yudong grabbed her bag and sprinted out of the school gates.

In the crowd outside, Manzhu stood out like a person from a painting, wearing a light, water-green dress. Even in the sea of people, she was instantly recognizable. Many people couldn’t help but stare, but Lu Yudong ignored them all and leapt joyfully into that gentle embrace.

“I’m done!” “How do you think you did?” “Great!” Yudong beamed.

Manzhu smiled, pulled Yudong out of her arms, took her hand, and led her out of the crowd.

With the exams over, they had a three-month vacation. Lu Yudong remembered Manzhu’s promise from two years ago to take her on a trip after graduation, but she didn’t know if Manzhu still remembered. She wanted to remind her but felt shy. Traveling must be expensive, right? With university tuition and living expenses coming up, Manzhu must be under pressure. If she forgot, Yudong decided she wouldn’t mention it.

Thinking this, she followed Manzhu silently onto the subway home. On the way, she messaged Ziyun: “How were the exams these past two days?”

Ziyun replied quickly: “Better than expected.” She added a “Panda thumb up” emoji. She seemed to be in a good mood.

Yudong wanted to say more, but after thinking for a while, she couldn’t come up with anything. She just copied the emoji and sent it back. Usually, Ziyun would follow up with more conversation, but this time, there was nothing. The conversation died as soon as it started.

Yudong put her phone away and caught Manzhu’s worried gaze. She felt a bit flustered.

“What exactly happened between you and Zhang Ziyun?” “Nothing…” Yudong looked away.

She didn’t know how to explain. Mu Chenshan had also called her out of concern, thinking they had fought. But they hadn’t—not a single word of argument had passed between them.

Seeing that Yudong didn’t want to talk, Manzhu didn’t push. Truthfully, she had never liked Yudong being too close to a human. If possible, humans should just be passing travelers in Yudong’s life—companions for a moment, not a lifetime. She should have been happy about this, but she was worried about Yudong’s mood.

Mu Chenshan said to add some sweetness, so Manzhu took Yudong to KFC. She remembered that whenever she asked Yudong what she wanted to eat, the answer was always fried chicken. If she liked it, eating it would make her happy, right? To maximize the “sweetness,” Manzhu ordered everything: strawberry sundaes, egg tarts, red bean pies.

As she ate, Lu Yudong suddenly laughed. Manzhu was confused. “What are you laughing at?” Yudong shook her head, her eyes curving. “Since Uncle said this was junk food, you haven’t liked bringing me here.” “Today is a special occasion. Eat as much as you want,” Manzhu said. “Should we buy more to heat up as a midnight snack tonight?” Yudong waved her greasy hands. “No, no! Too much will make me feel sick!” Manzhu nodded. “True. We can come back whenever you want. I also bought some other snacks for the house this morning.” “Other snacks?” Yudong was curious. Manzhu didn’t eat snacks and Yudong never asked for them, so the house was usually empty of them. If there were any, it was just sunflower seeds or peanuts from the bar during holidays. The idea of Manzhu actively buying snacks was magical.

Full and satisfied, Lu Yudong returned home to find the low coffee table in front of the sofa piled high with snacks—mostly sweets.

“Did Sister’s tastes… change recently?” Yudong asked. Manzhu thought for a moment. “Eating sweet things makes you feel better.”

Yudong froze, then realized Manzhu was worried about her. She had been distracted lately; her performance must have been terrible to make Manzhu worry so much. She opened her mouth to reassure her, but then saw Manzhu walk to the bed and peel back the towel blanket.

Underneath were several sets of brand-new clothes. Yudong stared blankly. These were… the Hanfu she had said she wanted to wear for their trip?

“I’ve already taken leave,” Manzhu said. She picked up one of the dresses, unfurled it, and looked at Yudong with a smile. “Where do you want to go? We’ll make a plan this week and leave next week.”

“You remembered?” “When have I ever forgotten a promise to you?”

Lu Yudong was ecstatic. She ran forward and tackled Manzhu onto the bed, giving her a quick, excited peck on the cheek.

In the next second, terrified that Manzhu would feel her racing heart, she jumped up like a startled rabbit, grabbed a set of clothes, and bolted into the bathroom.

“I’m going to try them on!” “You might not know how to put them on yet, I’ll help—”

Manzhu sat up, but before she could finish, the bathroom door slammed shut. She stared at the closed door, her fingers instinctively touching the spot on her cheek.

Why does my heart feel so flustered…