Chapter 22: The Ghost and the Moon Gate

I couldn’t possibly suggest they might be dating. I hadn’t even confirmed it myself.

Besides, Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu, for instance, involves techniques where one person mounts another to subdue them; it didn’t necessarily imply anything untoward. I felt utterly devoid of confidence!

Meeting Ji Yushu’s bewildered gaze, and recalling the care she usually showed Xiao Yuqin, Qian Surou still felt it best to let the young people resolve things themselves.

Clutching her rice bowl, she nodded as if nothing out of the ordinary had transpired.

Yes, they were both good girls.

Then, leveraging her formidable imagination, she conjured a pleasant scenario between the two sisters: perhaps they had already connected at school, with Yuqin being a fan of Xidong, and Xidong was simply performing a dance for her little admirer when Qian Surou walked in.

Seeing Ji Yushu’s expression, one that truly seemed to believe her, Qian Surou found herself unable to continue the fabrication—

“Really! That’s wonderful! Susu, you know Yuqin has always been a bit self-conscious because of her leg, and quite withdrawn at school, always clinging to me.

If Xidong could become her good friend, I would feel much more at ease when she goes to university. Now that I think about it, even though they barely spoke before, they were always secretly observing each other.”

The more Ji Yushu pondered it, the more convinced she became.

The two of them were simply too shy to be open in front of their respective older sisters, meeting only in secret at school.

This notion of secret rendezvous stirred a very distant memory within her, from a time when they were both still under ten years old, and their relationship was far from one of close friendship.

She had been an oddity, someone Susu would occasionally glance at with a dismissive air, always sitting alone on the threshold of the moon gate in the park not far from Linhua Primary School.

Susu, on the other hand, was the coveted young mistress of a wealthy family, admired by all.

Though young, she possessed a maturity beyond her years, was kind and versatile, truly “the child from another family” that adults often spoke of.

—Are you waiting for someone?

One day, the young mistress addressed the commoner.

Following the usual progression of such stories, two children from different worlds would unexpectedly play together, their relationship gradually improving, eventually growing up as childhood sweethearts.

In reality, while the complexity of a child’s thoughts might have its limits, their emotions were often far more intense than an adult’s.

At the time, she only had a vague notion of infidelity, but in her lived experience, it manifested as her parents constantly bickering, no longer showing her affection.

Each day, she would wait in the same spot for her mother to pick her up after work, while her father seemed to have vanished entirely.

Her initial feelings of pain transformed into jealousy upon Susu’s appearance.

Seeing Susu look down at her, her first impulse was to push her forcefully, sending her tumbling to the ground.

To see such a radiant child from school so easily fall to the ground filled the instigator with a sudden sense of accomplishment.

Susu’s dust-covered hands showed a faint redness where grit had surely entered the wounds; it must have been incredibly painful.

At that moment, she thought, ‘She’s definitely going to cry, then call the adults, and then comes the judgment.’ A strong urge to flee instantly took hold.

But her wrist was seized.

Susu’s pristine white blouse and long skirt were now stained, her loosely tied hair ribbon had come undone from the impact, and some stray strands of hair lifted in the warm breeze.

Her face showed neither pain nor tears, yet she appeared exceptionally disheveled, much like a lost pet found after a week.

It was then that she realized: despite being a young mistress, why was no one picking her up, just like her? Why did Susu pass by this place every single day?

All in all, her younger self had been a hateful nuisance, unable to even utter an apology.

She tried to break free, but the grip only tightened, giving her the distinct feeling that she was about to be held accountable, perhaps even arrested by a police officer.

Regret swiftly followed her impulsive act, leaving her searching in vain for the first words to say.

Just then, Susu spoke:

“I’m waiting for someone too, but she hasn’t come yet.”

The young Ji Yushu froze at her words.

For children, similar circumstances and shared interests often had the same unifying effect.

“My mom will come.”

“Is that so… I’m so envious.”

Susu spoke with genuine sincerity.

Slowly, she released her grip, then sat down on the arch threshold of the moon gate, just like the young Ji Yushu.

Seeing her special spot occupied, the young Ji Yushu no longer felt like fleeing—

“They all say your family is very rich, with a driver and everything you could ever want. But you seem even more pathetic than me, without even a mom.”

Susu suddenly burst into laughter.

She dropped her heavy schoolbag onto the ground with a thud, then wrapped her arms around her knees, propping up her chin which seemed unable to close—

“Oh, you’re so silly. Without a mom and dad, there wouldn’t be us, would there? Of course I have a mom and dad, but you see—”

Susu leaned closer to the young Ji Yushu, closing the distance between them, and asked if she wanted some chocolate.

Enticed by the exquisitely wrapped chocolate, the young Ji Yushu completely forgot about her previous bullying.

She boldly popped one into her mouth, was immediately captivated by its deliciousness, and then carefully folded the gold foil wrapper like a precious treasure, tucking it into her pocket.

“I’ll tell you a secret—I’m actually a ghost!”

“Liar,” the young Ji Yushu retorted.

Susu then presented her evidence: in the large house called home, no one could see her, everyone obeyed her commands, and only ghosts possessed the ability to appear at will and frighten humans.

Though the young Ji Yushu still didn’t quite believe her, she found ghosts cool, so it didn’t matter.

Her gaze towards Susu even became significantly more adoring.

Later, she learned that Susu attended an extracurricular class not far from school, which explained why she happened to pass by the “special spot.”

A black car would only pick her up after her class ended.

Every day thereafter, they waited in the same spot, but Susu always left first, for the person she was waiting for would only arrive much, much later.

The young Ji Yushu’s way of expressing affection was terribly flawed: she would vent negative emotions, engage in rivalry, mock Susu for being unloved and for the person she waited for never arriving, and would swear to break off their friendship at the slightest displeasure.

Susu, however, remained as ever the most thoughtful and gentle friend.

Gradually, the young Ji Yushu developed a desire not to be outdone by Susu.

No longer enveloped by negative emotions, she became diligent.

To reach a level comparable to Susu meant being exceptionally talented and adored by all.

While the young Ji Yushu hadn’t achieved such extremes, she was certainly developing positively, cultivating confidence through praise and recognition, and exuding an aura of cheerful sunshine.

Concurrently, she grew even more concerned about Susu.

In the young Ji Yushu’s perception, she was Susu’s best friend and, as such, deserved to be more important than the person Susu waited for.

Still beneath the familiar moon gate, the young Ji Yushu asked:

“Who is the person you’re waiting for?”

“I can’t quite remember.”

“You’re brushing me off.”

“No… I’ve forgotten what she looks like. I only remember her name was Xiao Ji, just like the pronunciation of your surname, Yushu.”

Not long after this conversation, her mother was to move abroad, and the young Ji Yushu would naturally accompany her.

The day before her flight, she went to the moon gate, but Susu wasn’t there.

The next morning, Susu appeared at her doorstep.

“Liar!” Susu cried, tears streaming down her face.

Susu hit her.

Her cheek throbbed with pain.

Clutching her face, she couldn’t utter a single word, standing rooted as she watched Susu cry and run away alone, not even noticing her mother’s astonished gaze.

She had clearly promised to wait with Susu, yet she had waited for Susu, only to abandon her alone.

Indeed.

She was a complete and utter liar, then and now, having made no progress whatsoever.

She stood frozen, unable to move forward, unwilling to take a single step back.

“Oh, let them figure things out naturally. Ji Yushu, a toast to you, come on! And again, congratulations on passing your interview. Try this shrimp and cream stew; Xidong used to love it.”

“Mm,” ‘So, even if I’m no longer Ji Yushu, I still want to be by your side.’ “It’s truly delicious.”