Part I: Yuyan and XiaoqingSaturday evening was settling in when Yuyan picked up her phone and typed, without thinking too much:"Come over after your shift today. I want to tell you something."
The reply came almost instantly:"If it's gossip, I'm running. Put the tea on."
A little after six, the doorbell rang three times — the "code" they'd used since college to signal it was a "friend visit" and not "serious company."
Xiaoqing walked in carrying the cold wind from the street and the weariness of a long shift on her shoulders. Her hair was tied up any which way, coat hanging open, bag slung over one shoulder. She dropped everything on the couch and headed straight for the kitchen, sniffing the air like someone following the smell of good food.
— Hmm… chrysanthemum with ginger. I knew it. She opened the cupboard, pulled out two cups, and started serving herself as if she were the owner of the place.
— Where are the biscuits? Don't tell me you didn't buy any.
— They're right here. Yuyan grabbed the glass jar and set it on the table.
— You know my kitchen too well.
— I know you, Lin Yuyan. Your kitchen is just a reflection. Xiaoqing sat down, resting her chin in her hands with that look of someone about to pry into a secret. So… judging by the photo Lin sent me, I guess that wasn't the whole chapter, was it? I only saw you two leaving together, but I'm sure there's a lot more to it.
The steam from the kettle rose as if it too wanted to join the conversation. Yuyan poured the water over the dried flowers without lifting her eyes.
— There is.
— Then start from the beginning, Xiaoqing urged, straightening in her chair. From the lecture.
Yuyan tucked her hair behind her ear, hesitating a little.
— It was… different. The auditorium was full, but it felt like the air changed when he walked in. I stayed further back, trying not to draw attention, but… I couldn't stop looking at him. He spoke as if he were telling a story, not giving a lecture. There were moments when it felt like his voice was coming from closer than it really was.
She picked up her phone from beside her teacup and, carefully, opened the gallery.
— I… took a picture. She turned the screen toward Xiaoqing.
In the image, the focus was sharp on the stage: Wen, in a blazer, soft light framing his face, his expression concentrated yet calm.
Yuyan quickly looked away, feeling her face grow warm.
— It was quick… I don't even know why I took it.
Xiaoqing's eyes widened as she held back a laugh.
— Don't know?! Look at this pose, girl! This could be a romance novel cover. She zoomed in and laughed even harder.— And you're still telling me you're not into him? Keeping this photo saved like it's some official document?
— Stop… Yuyan reached for her phone, but her friend pulled it away, still laughing.
— No, seriously. If I ever make an album called "Moments Before Falling in Love," this picture will be the cover.
Yuyan sighed, half laughing, half embarrassed, and tugged the phone back.— You're impossible.— And you're predictable. Xiaoqing bit into a cookie, still smiling.— But go on. After the lecture…
— I left with everyone else and ended up walking into Coffee Black… Yuyan stirred her tea, her gaze distant.— It was crowded, people still talking about the lecture. I overheard two of the staff… one of them said she thought it was impressive how calm and confident he was explaining such delicate things.
Xiaoqing raised her eyebrows, attentive.
— Hm…
— And the other replied that he speaks like someone who's lived through it. Yuyan took a deep breath.
— I stood there, waiting for my order, but really I was just… listening.— And you, of course, memorized every word, her friend teased.
— Maybe. Yuyan gave a faint smile.
— It was strange… as if everything they said confirmed what I had already felt.
— After Coffee Black, we left together for dinner, Yuyan went on, trying to sound casual, though the blush on her cheeks betrayed her.
— It was already planned, but… when we passed through the side gate, some people were leaving, and I felt some looks.
— Looks? Xiaoqing narrowed her eyes, intrigued.
— Yeah… Yuyan looked away, stirring her tea.— It felt like they were seeing us as… a couple.
— And you got all flustered, didn't you? her friend teased, already laughing.— A little, Yuyan admitted, smiling faintly.— But he didn't seem to mind. He just kept walking beside me, calm, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
— Oh, oh… Xiaoqing rested her chin in her hands.
— And then?
— Then we went to the restaurant. Small, cozy… there was a warm light and soft music playing in the background. He pulled out the chair for me, and we just talked as if there was no rush.
— After dinner… he asked if I wanted to take a walk, Yuyan continued.
— We went to the bridge. The night was so calm, just the sound of the water below and a few lanterns reflecting on the surface.
Xiaoqing smiled.
— Ah, what a K-drama scene… don't tell me you weren't thinking about that?
— I tried not to think about it, Yuyan confessed, laughing at herself.
— And then it started to get cold. I didn't even notice my hands were freezing, but he took off his coat and put it over my shoulders.
— There it is! Xiaoqing raised her hands, as if announcing a goal.
— Official seal of "this man is not here to play games."
Yuyan shook her head, though the smile never left her face.
— Before I went inside, he stopped and… kissed me.
— A kiss?! Xiaoqing almost leaned across the table.
— Wait… a real kiss?— On the forehead, Yuyan said, trying to sound indifferent, but unable to hide the softness in her voice.
— Oh, that's even worse, Xiaoqing declared, leaning back.
— You know a forehead kiss is dangerous. It's not just a cute gesture… it's that "I see you" disguised.
— I don't know, Qing… maybe it was just politeness.
— Politeness? Her friend let out a short laugh.
— Yuyan, look at me. Do you really think a man does all of that — dinner, bridge, coat, forehead kiss — out of protocol?
Yuyan took a deep breath, her gaze fixed on the steam rising from her cup.
— I just… I'm afraid of believing too much.
Xiaoqing reached out and clasped her hand firmly.
— And I'm afraid you'll let it slip away. What's real doesn't hide, Yuyan. And from what you've told me, he's not hiding anything.
The silence between them stretched, warm and comforting like a blanket.Until Xiaoqing, in her typical way, added:— But, hey… a forehead kiss is just the trailer. The movie is still coming.
Yuyan laughed, shaking her head.
— You never change.
— I just… I'm afraid of believing too much, Yuyan said again, her voice almost a whisper.
Xiaoqing was quiet for a moment, watching her friend. Then she leaned over the table, holding Yuyan's hand in both of hers.
— Yuyan… I saw what you went through. The nights you came back exhausted, the days you seemed to carry the weight of the world alone, the times you pretended to be fine just so no one would worry. You've always taken care of everyone, except yourself.
Yuyan looked away, feeling the lump in her throat.
— That's why, Xiaoqing went on, I don't want you to let this slip away. It's not about whether it will work out or not — it's about letting yourself feel. And from what I see on your face right now… you are feeling it. And I'm so happy for that.
Yuyan squeezed her hand in response, unable to say anything for a few seconds.
Only then, as if wanting to ease the emotion that lingered in the air, Xiaoqing leaned back and gave a mischievous smile.
— But hey… a forehead kiss is just the trailer. The movie is still coming.
Yuyan laughed, shaking her head.
— You really never change.
— And thank goodness for that. Xiaoqing lifted her cup in a mock toast.
— To trailers… and to stories worth living.
She took a sip and then, as if suddenly remembering something important, added:
— Oh, and before I forget… Lin mentioned to me that his birthday is coming up.
Yuyan looked up, surprised.
— Wen's?
— Mm-hmm. December fifteenth, Xiaoqing confirmed, with a smile that already hinted she was imagining something.
— Still time to think of a gift.
Yuyan's cup remained suspended halfway to her lips.
In her mind came the memory from weeks ago — Lin mentioning, almost unintentionally, that Wen
never celebrated his own birthday."Maybe because no one remembered."
The steam from the tea rose slowly, and she kept her eyes on it, as if she could find there the exact way to change that story.
While Yuyan stared into the steam, trying to imagine a gift, somewhere else in the city the whistle of a kettle announced another conversation — one that, in a different way, would also be about her.
Part 2 – Wen & Lin
The kettle released a thin stream of steam in the kitchen, spreading the aroma of fresh coffee through the silent apartment. The table in the living room was occupied by two open books, a notepad, and a pen resting diagonally, as if it had been set down only moments ago.
When the doorbell rang, Wen Zhaonan calmly closed the book in front of him.
— Come in.
Lin appeared at the door holding a small package.
— I came to return the book… and, since you're a polite host, to steal a coffee.
— I figured it was more for the coffee. Wen stood to fetch two cups.
They sat across from each other, the warm light of the lamp casting a circle of intimacy over the table. Lin watched him for a moment, as if choosing his words.
— So it's true.
— What exactly? Wen asked, unhurried.
— I saw you at the lecture… you crossed the auditorium as if there were only one person there. And then you left together.
Wen didn't answer immediately. He turned the cup slowly, watching the coffee swirl.
— It was a good night.
— A "good night"? Lin raised his eyebrows.
— Coming from you, that's practically a confession.
Wen exhaled softly through his nose, neither confirming nor denying.
— Some conversations… stay in your head.
— And this one did. It wasn't a question but a statement. Lin took a sip of coffee and rested his elbow on the table.
— I've known you long enough to notice when something changes. You usually measure people from a distance, Zhaonan… but this time, it didn't seem like you wanted to keep your distance.
Silence stretched between them for a few seconds until Wen spoke:
— It's not always worth keeping distance.
Lin gave a half-smile.
— There it is. The most optimistic sentence I've heard from you in months.
They shared a brief look, heavy with understanding, before Lin shifted the subject with ease:
— Your birthday's coming up, isn't it?
— December fifteenth.— Doing anything?
— No. I usually let it pass like any other day.— Still with that "it doesn't matter" story?
— Habit. Wen's smile was small and without humor.
— When no one remembers, the date loses its weight.
Lin tilted his head, studying him.
— Maybe this year will be different.
Wen looked up, holding his friend's gaze for a moment. Then he asked, casually:
— Do you have anything planned for next Saturday?
— I don't think so. Why?
— I'm inviting Yuyan and Xiaoqing to have dinner here.
Lin almost choked on his coffee.— What? You… inviting people to dinner? Here? He glanced around, as if to check the room was still the same.
— I need to mark this in the calendar as a historic event.
Wen kept silent, but there was a faint trace of irony at the corner of his mouth.
— Then it's settled.
Lin shook his head, still surprised.
— You do realize this is basically opening the door to your world, right? It's not just food…
— I know. Wen's tone remained calm.
His friend leaned back in his chair, now serious.
— Then, if that's the case… don't waste it. If you're going to let someone in, make it count.
Wen didn't reply. He simply turned his cup slowly, as if committing the words to memory.