Chapter 18 : The Melody of the Past

When Jiang Yanlin pushed open the glass door, a gentle night breeze swept past, cutting off the noise from behind.

With a single glance, she saw the figure waiting under the streetlight. The dim yellow light stretched her shadow long, drawing a line that divided the light and dark of the asphalt road.

Jiang Yanlin squinted against the wind. A moment later, she descended the steps, walking towards Péi Wanyi one step at a time.

A cheerful song played from the small pub next door. The melody and lyrics drifted over, carried by the wind.
“…Just want to follow your footsteps back home.”

Jiang Yanlin’s steps faltered. But Péi Wanyi, standing under the streetlight, had already looked up at her.
“…But this ambiguity tells me I can’t.”

Jiang Yanlin stopped in her tracks, her gaze meeting hers.

A few very short, very slow seconds ticked by with the melody. Péi Wanyi looked at her and let out a light laugh.

“Let’s go. The car is almost here.”

She shook her phone and turned to walk towards the intersection.

Jiang Yanlin thought to herself that Miss Péi did have a bit of a considerate side, not leaving her alone at a late-night gathering.

As she thought this, she subconsciously ignored a certain nerve that had finally relaxed.
—It was all just because the night wind was too cool, slowing her thoughts.

The car Péi Wanyi had called was set to Jiang Yanlin’s home as the destination.

Jiang Yanlin felt it was unnecessary, but she said nonchalantly, “I have to go to the office to get something. It’s on the way.”

“Working overtime so late?”

Jiang Yanlin glanced at her sports wristband. It was almost two in the morning.

Péi Wanyi had been replying to work emails on her phone since they got in the car. She answered casually,
“It’s the family business. I’m in China to liaise with a few branch offices, all in different time zones.”

So even in the local time zone, she had to be on call at all times.

Jiang Yanlin finally understood where her and Péi Wanyi’s similar sleep schedules came from.

“But not having to clock in is already a win,” she commented dryly.

Péi Wanyi laughed. “Even if I don’t have to clock in, I’m still on time for work. You slept soundly during the camping trip, but I was up at nine looking at emails.”

Jiang Yanlin had another question answered. She glanced at her and remarked with rare sentiment,
“Do you have Korean blood? You seem to have evolved beyond the need for sleep.”

The car ride passed with lighthearted conversation, and they soon reached their destination.

After getting out of the car, Jiang Yanlin, just like last time, said in a voice loud enough for the driver to hear,
“Call me when you get there. Be safe.”

Péi Wanyi looked at her, the corners of her lips turning up, her already upturned eyes crinkling with a smile.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll leave you a message.”

Jiang Yanlin paused, then just smiled, waved goodbye, and left.

The car drove far away. Jiang Yanlin entered her apartment building without looking back.

It took her a few minutes to get to her door. She went through her routine of washing up, and when she finally lay in bed, she wasn’t very sleepy.

Her personal phone had many unread messages from friends, acquaintances, and her “fish.”

Jiang Yanlin scrolled through them, replied to the important ones, then locked the screen and put the phone away.

She closed her eyes, but the sound of the wind outside started to bother her.

She got up and closed the glass window in her bedroom.

Lying down again, she picked up her phone, played a white noise playlist of rain sounds, lowered the volume, and relaxed her body.

This time, it seemed to work a little better.

But her sleepiness came on slowly. It wasn’t until her phone vibrated that Jiang Yanlin, half-asleep, picked it up and glanced at it.

After reading it, she turned on her phone’s “Do Not Disturb” mode and closed her eyes.

This time, she finally found her sleepiness and drifted off.

The next day, Jiang Yanlin was woken up by a call from Chen Yuran.

College students were just so energetic, calling so early in the morning… oh, it was already noon.

Jiang Yanlin rubbed her forehead, put the phone on speaker, and asked in a hoarse voice,
“What’s up?”

Chen Yuran’s voice was unusually shy, a departure from her usual liveliness.
– “Ms. Jiang, are you free anytime soon?”

She always called Jiang Yanlin “Ms. Jiang,” a habit she hadn’t changed since they first met.

When asked why, she would say, “Because you’re amazing. I just really admire you.”

Jiang Yanlin didn’t understand how she had given her that impression, but she didn’t interfere with her way of doing things.

“How soon is ‘soon’? A specific time.”

She turned over, burrowing under the covers, unwilling to get out.

Chen Yuran hesitated for a while longer and finally said,
– “Then just let me know when you’re free. Bye.”

After saying that, she hung up.

Jiang Yanlin was used to her impulsive nature. After the call ended, she continued to lie with her eyes closed, recovering her energy.

Although she was a long-time night owl, she usually got enough sleep, so it wasn’t technically staying up late.

If she didn’t get enough sleep one day, her body would be exhausted, affecting her mental state for the entire day.

Jiang Yanlin didn’t like a strictly disciplined life, but she also didn’t want to lose control too much. She had had enough of that in those years.

Because of Chen Yuran’s call, Jiang Yanlin dozed off in a half-awake state and had a very rare dream about something from several years ago.

The party where she met Chen Yuran had been hosted by an acquaintance. Jiang Yanlin had known him for three or four years and had once had a relationship where they could share a few heartfelt words.

But in the first two years they knew each other, Jiang Yanlin had never discovered his hidden flaws, especially when it came to his relationships with women.

In front of Jiang Yanlin, he had always played the role of a steady, older figure, never mentioning his relationships or discussing any topics related to women.

Later, Jiang Yanlin slowly realized that this was because he knew from the beginning that she didn’t like it.

In her early twenties, Jiang Yanlin’s understanding of human nature was still very shallow.

She could only rely on the methods she had figured out on her own to screen people, to judge who was worth befriending and who was best avoided.

For a period of time, her screening process in this regard was even excessively strict.

If anyone she just met showed even the slightest hint of something that made her uncomfortable, Jiang Yanlin would decisively exclude them from her “sustainable contact” list.

But she had overlooked the fact that there was a portion of people in the world who were very good at hiding themselves.

When she too easily revealed her likes and dislikes, some people would selectively hide the parts she didn’t like in front of her.

By the time she found out after a long time and a deeper friendship, all that was left was a situation where she could do nothing but feel disgusted.

Jiang Yanlin’s patience with him had gradually decreased until he tried to make a move on a girl of Chen Yuran’s age. That was when Jiang Yanlin finally couldn’t stand him anymore, completely blocked him, and cut off all contact.

A man with ten years of social experience trying to pursue a newly adult woman still in her ivory tower—even for someone like Jiang Yanlin, who didn’t care about many things, it was irritating to watch.

She later wondered why she had misjudged him and put up with him for so many years.

Scrolling back through her memories, Jiang Yanlin finally remembered.
—In the very beginning, he was Qining’s friend.

“…Jiang Yanlin, how many people have fallen in love with you?”

In the calm, warm afternoon sun, she sat at the piano, her slender fingers dancing across the keys, playing an improvised melody.

Amidst the music, she suddenly looked up at her.

Jiang Yanlin put down her book, looked at her, and asked back,
“Why do you ask?”

A flicker of expression crossed her usually emotionless face, like a smile, yet also like a sigh.

“I just want to know how many others there are like me.”

In the years that followed, Jiang Yanlin never told Qining.
—You are not the first, and you will not be the last.