To Get Married - Chapter 41

Chapter 41

Initially, as soon as Lu Yudong finished filing her university applications, Manzhu took her away on their graduation trip.

Their travel plan began in early July and ended in late August. For a group tour lasting nearly two months, the expenses wouldn’t be low no matter how much they saved. Yet, Manzhu told Yudong repeatedly that since they were out, she should play without worries. As long as she was happy, she didn’t need to think about anything else.

In the past, this child was always reluctant to spend money, never buying anything unless it was absolutely necessary and refusing to replace items until they were completely worn out. Now that they were finally traveling, Manzhu naturally refused to let her feel slighted in the least. If the money ran out, she’d just borrow more; after all, one more debt wouldn’t crush her, and the creditor ought to be used to it by now.

Because they were traveling, and fearing she might miss the delivery of her admission notice, Yudong had set the delivery address to the Not An Old Friend bar.

On the day the admission notice arrived, Yudong received a congratulatory message from Zhang Ziyun. That short “Congratulations,” plus a photo of Ziyun’s own admission letter, was the entirety of their recent chat history.

At the time, Yudong asked: “Did yours arrive?” Ziyun replied: “Yes.” After that, there was no further active communication.

It wasn’t that anyone was still avoiding the other; it was simply a mutual silence.

Yudong had always felt that she and Ziyun were the closest of friends who could share anything. She believed that as long as things were spoken plainly, they could remain friends regardless of what happened. But some things do pass, and “passing” never means one can act as if nothing ever occurred.

On the night the Gaokao ended, Ziyun had said something. She said that some songs are beautiful, but listening to them too much makes one’s mood turn sour. Similarly, some people are wonderful, but forcing them to stay by your side won’t make you any happier.

Yudong understood it only half-well and didn’t dare respond. She knew that while Ziyun seemed indifferent on the surface, she was hurting inside. They had cleared the air, and they were still friends, but they could no longer share everything like before.

Lu Yudong returned to Yuanchuan a week before university started.

She followed Manzhu home and set down two large suitcases. The various items they had bought during the trip had been mailed back in batches and collected by Mu Chenshan. Upon opening the door, they found the entryway completely blocked by packages.

In that moment, Manzhu and Yudong looked at each other and burst into laughter. Six years ago, when they first arrived here, the doorway had been similarly piled high with stuff, leaving no room to step.

“Uncle is so strong, yet he didn’t even help move things inside a bit.”

“He’s just that lazy. Don’t you know him by now?” Manzhu said, closing the door behind them. “Tidy up, take a shower, and then let’s go to the bar. It’s been so long; they must be missing you.”

“They’re missing you, Sister. Especially those guests who come every day to hear you sing,” Yudong muttered, her tone tinged with a faint hint of jealousy.

Lest Manzhu pick up on her tone, Yudong quickly stepped over a pile of parcels, picked up a box, and hopped over to the coffee table. The moment she stopped, her eyes fell on the admission notice on the table. She put down the box, picked up the notice to examine it carefully, then turned around to show it off to Manzhu.

Manzhu smiled, her eyes full of pride.

In a good mood, Yudong set the notice down and began unboxing the parcels. As she worked, she said, “Actually, I haven’t seen them in two months, and I really miss Little Master.”

“Only Little Master?” Manzhu asked.

“And Sister Huanxi, Sister Xiaozhi… and I haven’t had Uncle Gou’s food and snacks in ages,” Yudong said. She looked at the clock thoughtfully for a few seconds before returning to her task. “I suppose I’ll miss Uncle too, even though he called me a ‘little brat’ when I asked him to pick up the mail.”

“He dared to call you a brat? Why didn’t you tell me?” After putting the suitcases by the bed, Manzhu grabbed a few packages and knelt beside Yudong.

“It was just a casual remark; he didn’t really mean it.” As she spoke, Yudong couldn’t help but wonder how Ziyun was doing and if Zhang Hao was still bothering her. She decided it would be best to check on her once they got to the bar.

By the time they finished unpacking, it was past 5:00 PM. The weather was sweltering, so they took turns showering before changing and heading to Not An Old Friend.

Yudong hummed a little tune as she pushed open the doors of the bar. At that moment, the newly hired male singer was performing “Long Time No See.” She instinctively glanced at the bar counter to the left, but only saw Yan Zhaomu mixing drinks for a customer.

Huanxi, who was idle, saw them and rushed over immediately. “Sister Manzhu! Yudong! You’re finally back! Everyone missed you to death! Especially the Boss—he’s been chanting your name every day, waiting for you to return.”

Manzhu laughed. “I don’t believe for a second that he’d miss me. Is he unhappy with the new singers?”

“Exactly,” Huanxi whispered with a giggle. “They look okay, but the singing is just average. He hired three for a rotation, but none of them can keep the customers. The regulars have been asking if you left for good.”

“As expected. He can’t do without me, yet he won’t give me a raise,” Manzhu teased. She turned to Yudong. “I’ll go check on the ‘newcomers’ who are about to lose their jobs. Go get a drink from Little Master.”

“Mhm!” Yudong nodded and sat at the bar.

Yan Zhaomu was busy, so she waited quietly until the customer left before whispering, “Long time no see, Little Master.”

“Ha… happy?” Yan Zhaomu asked.

“Very! Sister took me to so many places. We took lots of photos!” Yudong pulled out her phone, opened the album, and held it out.

Yan Zhaomu took the phone and scrolled through the photos. In them, Yudong and Manzhu were dressed similarly in elegant, antique styles. Someone in their group must have been a good photographer; the photos were stunning, looking like two immortals who had wandered into the mortal world, smiling like flowers against the backdrops of mountains, rivers, and ancient buildings.

Yudong had truly changed. Even without makeup, she was refined and purely beautiful; with a little bit of makeup, she was an undeniable beauty. Even standing next to Manzhu, she didn’t lose her luster.

“Grown up,” Yan Zhaomu returned the phone with a slight smile. “More… more and more… beautiful.”

Yudong pursed her lips shyly, her heart blooming with the compliment, and she lowered her head to hide her smile.

Suddenly, Yan Zhaomu’s knuckle tapped on the sign next to the bar. It read: “Please state your desired drink or your current mood. If you need to talk, find another server; do not attempt to converse with this mixing master.”

This sign had been there for a long time but was usually put away whenever Zhang Ziyun was around. Over the past two and a half years, Ziyun was there whenever she was free. But now, even though university hadn’t started yet, the sign was back.

In that moment, a realization hit Yudong. She couldn’t help but look around, as if if she just waited a little longer, Ziyun would return with a tray of empty glasses and a smile, asking: “Lu Yudong, long time no see! Anything you want to drink today? Or should I just recommend something?”

But she saw no sign of Ziyun, and heard no sound of her voice.

After a silence, Yudong turned back and asked softly, “Is Zhang Ziyun on leave today?”

Yan Zhaomu thought for a moment, then said, “Gone.”

Yudong froze. She wasn’t surprised by the answer, yet it was hard to accept. “Gone… does that mean… she’s not coming back?”

Yan Zhaomu nodded. “Mhm.”

“Why did she leave?” Yudong pressed.

Yan Zhaomu didn’t know how to explain. He remained silent for a while, then tapped the sign again.

Yudong pressed her hands against her phone, subconsciously rubbing her right thumb. After a long while, she opened her Q.Q and sent several messages to Ziyun.

—Why did you leave? —Don’t you love working at the bar and everyone here? —Are you ever coming back?

The deskmate who used to reply in seconds now had a greyed-out profile picture. Yudong waited patiently, but nothing happened.

Suddenly, Yan Zhaomu pushed a drink toward her. “Before… leaving… she… she or… or… ordered this.”

A Tequila Sunrise. The very first drink they had secretly tried together.

“She also ordered Soulmate,” Mu Chenshan said, appearing out of nowhere. He leaned lazily against the bar next to Yudong. “But she said Hong Hong didn’t sing it as well as you, and she looked quite regretful. I didn’t have the heart to charge her.”

“Shut up,” Yan Zhaomu glared at him.

Yudong frowned. Mu Chenshan suddenly took a stack of cash from his wallet and handed it to her. “Xiao Zhang told me to give this to you before she left.”

Yudong took it and counted silently. Exactly 1,400 yuan. Ziyun had said she would pay her back later, once she finished paying Zhang Hao to clear the air with him.

To clear the air…

“That girl’s admission letter was sent here, but it wasn’t for Yuanchuan Conservatory. I don’t remember exactly where it was for,” Mu Chenshan said.

“Qinbei,” Yan Zhaomu added.

“That’s quite far,” Mu Chenshan remarked.

Yudong hesitated, then dialed Ziyun’s number, only to hear a recording that the number was no longer in service. After a brief daze, she checked Weibo and WeChat. Ziyun was still on her lists, but neither had been updated for a long time. This wasn’t at all like the person who used to post a picture even when just drinking milk tea.

Suddenly, Yudong remembered something Ziyun once said: —If I’m ever heartbroken, I definitely won’t cling on. I’ll go far away until I’ve completely moved on.

A few days passed, and there was still no reply from Ziyun. No response on WeChat or Weibo, and the greyed-out Q.Q icon never lit up again. The friend she could once share everything with had vanished as if into thin air, and in the blink of an eye, all contact info was lost.

Before school started, Yudong gathered her courage and went to Ziyun’s house. But when she knocked on the door, a strange young couple answered, saying they were new tenants.

She really had vanished.

Yudong had thought that only people she didn’t like—like many middle school classmates or the three high school roommates—would lose contact after graduation. But the very first friend who stood up for her when she was being bullied had also let go of her promise of “forever,” parting ways to chase her own future.

Sitting on the bus home, Yudong watched the camphor trees fly past. Her heart felt empty, a sensation she couldn’t quite name.

When she got back, she told Manzhu. She hid the part about Ziyun’s feelings for her, only saying she didn’t know why Ziyun had suddenly disappeared, giving up her preferred university and moving house.

“Maybe she’s hiding from that Zhang Hao you mentioned?” Manzhu suggested.

Yudong shook her head, then after a silence, nodded. “Perhaps. He was someone who caused her a lot of trouble.”

She knew the truth, but she didn’t know how to tell Manzhu. Ziyun might be hiding from Zhang Hao, but the person who truly forced her away was Yudong herself. Yudong was the one who had brought her trouble. Perhaps to Ziyun, Yudong’s two-month trip looked like an escape, and maybe that escape made it impossible for Ziyun to face her again.

Regardless, she had lost her best friend.

Seeing Yudong like this, Manzhu’s heart ached. She gently pulled her into an embrace and said softly, “Your life is much longer than those of your friends. You will have many more six-year periods ahead, and you will meet many more people who are good to you. No matter how close you are, eventually, you have to say goodbye to each one.”

“Old Snake Father once told me that anyone in this world might just be a passerby. No matter how much you like each other when you’re together, once you’re apart, time will make it pass,” Manzhu said. “You can’t stop someone who wants to leave. Instead of dwelling on those who left, cherish the person in front of you.”

You can’t stop someone who wants to leave.

Like her parents, like Ziyun’s father, and like Ziyun herself, who had left without a sound. Fortunately, in this world, there was one person who would never leave her. At least, not until life itself ended.

In early September, accompanied by Manzhu, Lu Yudong reported to her university.

After checking in, Yudong put her luggage in her assigned dorm and then pulled Manzhu to walk around the campus and the surrounding area. The environment was nice, with convenient food, shopping, and transportation. Manzhu was clearly satisfied. Before leaving, she gave Yudong an allowance, telling her to buy whatever she wanted and not to be stingy. Manzhu had said this every day during high school; Yudong knew the whole sentence as soon as she heard the first word.

“I’m not going away to study; I’ll come home whenever I’m free!” Yudong said. “If my classes aren’t too heavy, I’ll come home. Maybe even more often than in high school!”

“It’s a two-hour trip from here to home,” Manzhu noted.

Yudong took Manzhu’s hand and pouted slightly. “Does Sister not want me to come back?”

Manzhu laughed. “I do. I wish you’d come back every day.”

“That’s good then.” Yudong leaned on Manzhu’s shoulder for a while before reluctantly standing straight. “Is Sister leaving now?”

“Yes. Tell me if you need anything, and I’ll bring it to you,” Manzhu said.

Yudong smiled. “If I need anything, I’ll just come home and get it myself.”

Manzhu couldn’t resist flicking Yudong’s nose. “Alright.”

After Manzhu left, Yudong returned to the dorm alone. When she had first dropped off her bags, the room was empty, but now there were two girls chatting while unpacking.

One girl had a ponytail, black-rimmed glasses, and casual clothes. She was refined-looking, less than 1.6 meters tall, thin and small. She seemed very introverted and spoke with a low voice. The other girl was tall, wearing a knee-length dark blue dress. She had shoulder-length short hair, narrow eyes, and a sophisticated, mature look. She seemed very reliable.

Hearing the door, both girls turned to greet her.

“Hi, are you in this dorm too?” the short-haired girl asked.

“Yes. It was empty when I came earlier, so I went for a walk. My name is Lu Yudong,” Yudong said, smiling shyly as she walked to her suitcase.

The short-haired girl smiled. “I’m Chen Yang.” The girl with glasses said, “I’m Tang Qian.”

Yudong pointed to the bed next to Chen Yang’s. “Can I take this bed?”

Chen Yang said, “Of course! You left your luggage and bedding here so early, neither of us dared to pick this spot.”

Yudong nodded and began making her bed. Just as she finished, the door was shoulder-barged open by a girl who arrived in a whirlwind.

She carried two massive suitcases with bedding and a pillow tied on top. She wore a panda T-shirt and denim shorts. Her hair was in twin tails, and her eyes were large and bright. She had a slightly chubby “steamed bun” face that looked adorable rather than fat.

“4-1-5, correct!” She stepped back to check the room number, then flashed a broad, friendly smile. “Hello, roommates!”

She dragged her heavy luggage inside, kicked the door shut with her heel, and walked toward the last empty bed—the one opposite Yudong. “What luck! A room full of beauties. I’m so happy!”

Chen Yang helped her and introduced everyone. “I’m Chen Yang, opposite you is Lu Yudong, and next to her is Tang Qian.”

The newcomer, Ye Liujing, sighed. “You’re all packed. I’m so late.”

“Need help?” Chen Yang asked.

“No, no, I’ve got it,” Ye Liujing said, starting on her bed.

University dorms were different from middle school; the beds were top bunks with individual desks and wardrobes underneath. After finishing her tasks, Yudong sat at her desk and dazed out. Her gaze kept drifting to Ye Liujing—there was something very special about this roommate, though she couldn’t say what.

She wasn’t sure how to talk to roommates. Though she lived at school during high school, she was only close to Ziyun and had no chemistry with the others.

Chen Yang and Ye Liujing were chatting happily. Tang Qian was quiet; she had installed a wooden bed-desk on her bunk and hung dark, thick curtains—one layer for mosquitoes, one for light. Once they were up, she crawled in with her laptop and closed the curtains, cutting herself off from the world.

After a while, Ye Liujing finished and sat at her desk, fanning herself. She looked at Tang Qian’s curtain and asked, “Tang Qian, are you asleep?”

“No!” came a voice from inside.

“Nice curtains. Send me the link later?”

“Sure. What’s your Q.Q? I’ll add you.” Tang Qian poked her head out.

“Let’s start a group,” Chen Yang suggested, creating one and showing the QR code to everyone. Thus, a group named “Harmonious & Loving 415” was born.

After adding everyone, Ye Liujing asked curiously, “Where is everyone from?”

Chen Yang: “I’m from the capital. You?” Tang Qian: “Haicheng.” Lu Yudong: “I’m from here in Yuanchuan, but I’m living on campus because my home is a bit far.” Ye Liujing: “I’m from Zhongjiang.”

Yudong looked up. “My hometown is in Zhongjiang too!” Ye Liujing was delighted. “A fellow townsman?” Yudong nodded. They exchanged a few lines of dialect, looking as happy as if they had found a long-lost relative.

That afternoon, at dinner time, Ye Liujing stood at the door for a while before waving to the idle Yudong. “Classmate!”

Yudong walked over blankly, pointing to herself. “Me?”

“Yeah. What was your name again?” “Lu Yudong.” “Right, Lu Yudong! Let’s go eat, and then you can come with me to the supermarket.” “Oh, okay.” Yudong grabbed her phone and followed her out.

Just as they reached the sports field, Ye Liujing leaned in and whispered mysteriously:

“Classmate, you know magic… are you an Exorcist too?”