Yuyan kept looking at her phone for a while, as if the words were still vibrating in the air.Xiaoqing stretched in her chair, satisfied with the mission accomplished.— There we go. Message sent. Invitation accepted. Heart racing.
Yuyan gave a restrained laugh, then went quiet for a moment. She seemed to be thinking of something.Then she took a deep breath.— Xiaoqing…— Hm?— On Friday… can you help me with something?
Her friend turned her face slowly, suspicious.— Depends. If it's to cover an extra shift, I'm already pretending I didn't hear it.
Yuyan bit her lip, as if she were about to reveal a secret.— I want you… to help me get ready. For the lecture. And… for after.
Silence settled for a second. But it wasn't hesitation — it was surprise.Xiaoqing's eyes widened.— Are you asking me… to get you ready? Like… hair, clothes, lipstick?Yuyan nodded, a little embarrassed.— Yes. But in moderation.
Xiaoqing placed her hands on her chest, theatrically:— I've been waiting for this moment since our third year of college. At last, Silent Flower is willing to bloom — with technical assistance and the right lipstick.
Yuyan laughed, hiding her face in her hands.But Xiaoqing suddenly spoke more softly:— I'm serious now. It'll be an honor.
And, as only true friends know how, she finished:— But listen… if you don't let me use that Korean porcelain highlighter, our friendship will be in trouble.
They laughed together, like they used to long ago.But here… something was already different.
On Friday
— Sit here. Don't move. Close your eyes. Relax your shoulders. Breathe. And hand me that head.— Xiaoqing…— You asked for my help, now deal with it. These eyebrows are more out of line than the heartbeat of a patient in fibrillation. And this hair? Silent Flower or Romantic Scarecrow?
Yuyan laughed, trying to hide her nervousness.— I just wanted to look natural.— You'll look wonderful. But with dignity, okay? Too much natural can turn into negligence.
While applying foundation and fixing Yuyan's hair with the focus of a plastic surgeon, Xiaoqing kept her tone light — but her eyes revealed a happiness she could barely contain.— And you know what else? I talked to Professor Lin early this morning.
Yuyan opened one eye.— About me?— Not exactly. About him. Wen.
She paused dramatically, holding the highlighter like a weapon of classified information.— According to Lin, he's in such a beautiful state of nerves it can only be love. Said that yesterday, during the meeting, he dropped his marker on the floor, tripped over his own cane, and forgot the equation he himself created.
Yuyan laughed, shaking her head.— You're making this up.— I'm not! And more: Lin said he's nervous about the lecture. But… he also blurted out, "What if she doesn't like the dinner?" in the middle of the lab. Then stayed silent for twenty minutes, staring at nothing.— Oh my God…— And the best part — she said, holding back her laughter
— Lin thinks he's rehearsing how the kiss will be. Because he kept repeating, "It can't be rushed… but it can't be cold either… what if she turns her face?"
Yuyan covered her face with her hands.— I'm going to die.— You won't. But you might have the most well-planned kiss in the history of academic medicine.
They both burst into laughter. A light, sincere, almost childlike laugh. One that washed away the fear.
Xiaoqing then approached with a blue hanger in her hands.— Now put this on. The dress you bought and never had the courage to wear.— I thought you'd suggest something more discreet.— Discreet is what you do during shifts. Today you're going to live.And the necklace — she added, picking up the little box — is the period at the end of a sentence only the two of you understand.
Yuyan clasped the necklace delicately. Looked at her reflection.— Well…?
The blue dress fell softly over her figure, light as a breeze over water. The fabric followed the line of her shoulders down to her waist, with simple, almost ethereal elegance.Her hair, half-pinned with loose strands on the sides, framed her face naturally.On her fair skin, the highlighter reflected the soft light of the late afternoon.And at the center of her chest lay the necklace with the small plum blossom — discreet, yet impossible not to notice.
She didn't look like someone else. She looked, finally, like herself — the way she had never allowed herself to see.— Well…? — she asked, almost whispering.
Xiaoqing took a step back. Observed her like someone admiring a work of art about to come to life.— You look beautiful.
She paused.— Now go. Feel. Live. And text me when you get home. In detail. No omissions. I'm your best friend, not the evening news.
Before leaving, Xiaoqing still dragged Yuyan to the living room.— Auntie Lin, look at your daughter today. Isn't she going to break hearts?
Her mother smiled, with the calm gaze of someone who had seen her daughter through many nights — and now saw her heading toward something new.— You look beautiful, dear. As your grandmother would say… even the wind will stop to watch you pass.
Yuyan lowered her head, embarrassed, but with a gentle smile that clung to the corner of her lips.
Xiaoqing said goodbye, grabbed her bag, and went down the stairs, cheerful.
When she opened the building's gate, she almost bumped into him.Wen Zhaonan.
Dark coat, neat hair, calm eyes — but clearly attentive to the moment.
She froze for a second. Surprised. Then smiled sincerely.— Professor Wen… good luck tonight. She looks beautiful. And… happy.
Wen only nodded. But there was a discreet glint in his gaze — like someone who gives thanks without needing words.
Xiaoqing passed him and walked down the street with a light heart, humming a song she didn't even know where she'd heard.
Inside the apartment, Yuyan took a deep breath before walking to the door. The hallway was quiet, but the dusk outside painted everything in a deep blue, announcing that night was close. Light filtered through the window, falling onto the floor like a carpet of calm, the same gentle shade as her dress.
The sound of his footsteps approaching was soft, yet distinct.She stopped before the door for a moment, feeling her own heartbeat in her ears.One breath. Another. Warmth rising into her hands.Then, finally, the doorbell.
She opened it.
And there, for an instant… time stopped.No noise.No wind.No rush.Only him.And her.
The blue of the dress meeting the dark of the coat. The plum blossom pendant shining over her chest, as if it knew the path straight to his eyes.
Both still. Saying nothing. But inside… everything was moving.It wasn't a reunion. It was recognition. As if the world, finally, was in the right place.
And sometimes… that's what love does. It silences the world — just so two hearts can hear each other.