I’ll Be There 30

“Get some proper rest. Don’t overthink things.”

She turned around one last time and watched his back slowly disappear into the mist. Leaning alone against the wall of the stairwell, she stood there in a daze, not knowing how long had passed. It wasn’t until the chill had seeped all the way through her body that she obediently sneezed twice.

She wasn’t looking at Su Li, nor was she looking at the rain.

At that moment, she simply didn’t want to think about anything at all. Her mind was completely blank.

After taking a hot shower, she sat down at her computer. Yuan Yuan’s QQ icon was lit up, and the moment she came online, he sent her a smiling emoji.

“Sister Jia Nan, you’re finally online! What have you been doing?”

“I was about to browse some forum posts. Instead, I’m chatting with you.”

“Hehe, I’m eating Want Want Rice Crackers. There are crumbs all over the floor. It’s awesome!”

She couldn’t help laughing. “You really started causing trouble the moment you got better. Your brother must be furious.”

“Almost! He’s only half alive already. His place is just too perfect. Perfect things exist to be destroyed, don’t you think? And he’s not even studying medicine, so why is he such a clean freak? Science guys are supposed to be carefree and unrestrained.”

Whenever Su Li was mentioned, she couldn’t help trying to draw more information out of Yuan Yuan. Secretly amused by her own selfish motives, she still asked as casually as she could, “Where’s Su Li? Is he beside you?”

“Yeah, he’s right next to me. Well, actually, at my feet, crawling around mopping the floor. I just asked him why he couldn’t wait until I finished eating sunflower seeds before cleaning up, and he kicked me so hard. It still hurts. Tell me, why is a man so violent?”

Song Jia Nan replied immediately.

“You deserved it.”

There was no response for a long while. Just as she was about to close the chat window, another message suddenly appeared.

“I chased that brat off to bed. He needs to rest well before heading to Beijing the day after tomorrow. Anyway, good night. You should go to bed early too.”

“Mm. Good night.”

Condensation covered the window, leaving it foggy and blurred. The distant lights became hazy and indistinct, their glow scattering softly through the mist without direction.

Song Jia Nan slowly raised a finger. After hesitating for a long time, she carefully wrote Su Li’s name on the fogged glass, stroke by stroke. Whether earnestly or mischievously, she couldn’t quite tell.

The scenery outside gradually became clear again.

But what she saw was Su Li’s name… crying.

The next morning, it was still drizzling beneath a blanket of mist. She hadn’t brought an umbrella, and by the time she reached the newspaper office, the bangs on her forehead were completely soaked. Raindrops trickled into her eyes, making them sting and blur her vision so badly that she almost mistook the department director for the janitor.

As usual, another long meeting followed. Once again, it was all about emphasizing the issue of copying material from the internet. The office had recently become a breeding ground for colds, so what should have been a stern criticism session instead became an endless chorus of coughing, sniffling, and sneezing.

Song Jia Nan wasn’t paying attention at all, though she still pretended to take diligent notes. Her notebook was filled with meaningless scribbles. Suddenly, she remembered Su Li telling her that whenever the school held long assemblies, he liked copying calligraphy from practice books, especially regular script. He treated the copybook as though it were the speaker, writing each stroke slowly but forcefully, as if he were an ancient executioner carrying out a death by a thousand cuts.

After work, maybe she should stop by the bookstore and buy a calligraphy copybook. She could tear out one page each day and tuck it inside her notebook. She wondered whose copybook Su Li had used back then—Pang Zhonghua’s, Wei Zhongguo’s, or perhaps Xin Bingwei’s. His handwriting had always been elegant and free-flowing, just like the person himself.

What was he doing now?

He always seemed so busy.

The question slowly surfaced in her mind. She stared blankly at the ballpoint pen in her hand, watching herself write the two characters of Su Li’s name, then gently cross them out, one stroke at a time.

At noon, Zeng Shuyi came looking for her and got straight to the point.

“Come have lunch with me.”

Song Jia Nan blinked in confusion before replying, “I’m not going with you to celebrate the New Year. Women just get another year older, call it a commemoration, drink themselves silly like lunatics, randomly hug some guy, and claim their lives haven’t been wasted. How hypocritical.”

Zeng Shuyi stared at her in shock.

“Since when did you become so sharp-tongued, quick-witted, and insightful?”

“I didn’t come up with it. I stole it from the woman next door.” After thinking for a moment, she added, “The ‘hypocritical’ part is my own conclusion.”

Zeng Shuyi weakly bumped her head against the wall.

“That’s not the kind of meal I mean. It’s a blind date.”

Song Jia Nan calmly glanced at her.

“Oh? You’re actually going on a blind date? Weren’t you the one who swore you’d never take the feudal route?”

“I don’t have a choice. Capitalism and socialism don’t seem to work these days, so I guess we’re going back a hundred years to feudalism—parents making the decisions, matchmakers arranging the marriage, and families being perfectly matched. It’s getting more and more popular.” She let out a long sigh. “Our lives all follow the same path: school, work, love, marriage, children, old age, death. No one escapes it.”

Song Jia Nan smiled.

“Aren’t you worried that if I come along, I’ll steal your talented young man? Isn’t that what always happens in romance novels? The younger sister steals the older sister’s boyfriend, the best friend steals her friend’s boyfriend, or someone accompanies a friend on a blind date and ends up becoming the real couple. Sometimes even the bridesmaid steals the groom.”

“Oh, come on. Are you coming or not? This time my mom found me a returned overseas Chinese. They say he absolutely worships traditional Chinese culture and is incredibly patriotic. I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle him. I’m a business major. How am I supposed to discuss things like, ‘Moonlight before my bed, two pairs of shoes upon the floor’… Oops, sorry. Wrong poem.”

Song Jia Nan shook her head.

“Just don’t actually say that in front of him. He’ll probably turn into a fossil on the spot. Besides, what’s in it for me? It’s New Year’s Eve. I’m planning to watch the New Year’s concert.”

“Oh, don’t be so difficult. Dinner’s on me! If he starts talking about classical poetry or literature, you have to rescue me. And if he turns out to be painfully boring, rescue me from that too. Just think of it like your field reporting—stay flexible and improvise.”

In the end, she really did accompany Zeng Shuyi on the blind date. They met at one of the city’s most famous Western restaurants. Since it was New Year’s, couples filled the place. Their sweetness made her feel like the cannon-fodder supporting character in someone else’s love story. She had every urge to turn around and run, but Zeng Shuyi dragged her forward by force.

Before they even reached the table, a voice speaking half-fluent Chinese drifted over.

“Miss Zeng Shuyi? And who is this? Haha, two lovely ladies, still hiding behind the pipa like in the old poem. Please, have a seat.”

Still hiding behind the pipa? She looked up at the man. He wasn’t very tall and looked like a fairly typical overseas returnee. His appearance was… thoroughly devoted to socialist construction.

She glanced at Zeng Shuyi, whose face had already gone expressionless. Thinking this was off to a terrible start, Song Jia Nan hurriedly tried to smooth things over.

“My name is Song Jia Nan. I’m her coworker. Well… she’s not very familiar with… uh… the whole process, and we were afraid it might get awkward, so I came along to liven things up.”

Someone stomped hard on her foot beneath the table.

She sucked in a sharp breath, laughed foolishly for a while with repeated “hehe”s, and decided to keep her mouth firmly shut.

She found the man’s way of talking unbearably flashy.

Mr. Socialism declared, “I don’t ask for much in life. Rain after a long drought, meeting an old friend in a foreign land, the wedding night, and passing the imperial examination. Well, I’ve already passed my examination, reunited with an old acquaintance in a foreign land, and received my long-awaited rain. All that’s missing is the wedding night! Haha!”

A little later he added, “The greatest success in life is to hold power over the world while awake and rest your head on a beauty’s lap when drunk.”

Song Jia Nan silently lowered her head and concentrated on eating her sizzling seafood pasta.

Across from her, Zeng Shuyi secretly kicked her twice.

Her phone vibrated twice inside her pocket.

Only then did Song Jia Nan slowly raise her head.

“Actually… I think whether someone’s life is truly successful is determined by their funeral.”

The corners of Mr. Socialism’s mouth twitched twice.

“Hehe… Miss Song Jia Nan works in the entertainment section, doesn’t she? You really have a sense of humor. Did you watch the speech on TV today? Hu Ge spoke with great conviction. The Three Represents were explained so well!”

“Oh, I know the Three Represents,” she interrupted calmly. “The electricity meter, the water meter, and the gas meter.”

Then she looked expressionlessly at the dumbfounded man.

“Was I wrong?”

Zeng Shuyi struggled to suppress her laughter and kicked Song Jia Nan again, signaling that she’d done enough.

Song Jia Nan stood, gave a slight bow, and walked toward the restroom. She took out her phone, preparing to pretend to be her boss calling Zeng Shuyi away on an urgent interview assignment.

One of the windows was slightly open, letting in a chilly breeze. She reached up and touched her burning cheeks before letting out a long sigh.

Suddenly, everything felt incredibly meaningless.

It was as though nothing in her life was really her own decision. She was simply following the path everyone else expected, just as the saying went:

“Life is nothing but enduring and persevering. You endure three years of high school to earn a university acceptance letter. You endure four years of college to earn a diploma. You endure another three years to earn a marriage certificate. Five years later, you endure again until you earn a divorce certificate.”

Her thoughts were drifting when the men’s restroom door swung open.

A strong smell of alcohol wafted out.

She frowned in distaste as a tall young man staggered toward her. Instinctively, she stepped aside to avoid him, but somehow his foot slipped. She reflexively reached out to catch him, managing to grab only his sleeve before his entire body collapsed onto the floor.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t pull him back up.

She really hated drunk people.

Frowning slightly, Song Jia Nan crouched down to wake him. His eyes and brows were hidden beneath his hair, leaving only the side of his face visible.

Her heart skipped a beat.

She looked more closely.

Then she froze, unable to say a single word.

Wasn’t he supposed to be in America?

Wasn’t he supposed to be in America?

Hadn’t he said he wasn’t coming back?

The same thought filled her mind over and over. In an instant, her entire body turned cold and began trembling. After countless thoughts raced through her head, dizziness finally overwhelmed her. She shook her head hard.

The illusion disappeared.

The noisy chatter filling the restaurant became sharply clear again.

She lifted her head and drew several deep breaths.

The sound of high heels echoed down the corridor, accompanied by a woman’s quiet muttering. Then an astonished voice cried out,

“Oh my! Duan Jiachen! Why are you lying here?!”

It really was Duan Jiachen.

It really was him.

That familiar profile…

How could she possibly have mistaken him?

Her thoughts churned violently. She stood up, about to speak to the newcomer, but the instant she turned around, she froze once more.

“Zhang Jingkang?”

Her close friend from high school now seemed frighteningly unfamiliar.

Zhang Jingkang frowned as she looked at Song Jia Nan. For a brief moment, surprise flickered across her face.

Song Jia Nan forced the corners of her lips into a faint smile, nodded politely, and greeted her with impeccable courtesy.

“Song Jia Nan? What are you doing here?”

“I came with someone else.”

She lowered her head, gesturing toward the man lying on the floor. Just as she bent down to wake him, Zhang Jingkang lightly pushed her hand away.

“Song Jia Nan, thank you. But please don’t interfere.”

Her hand remained suspended in midair, trembling violently.

“He’s Duan Jiachen, not just anyone.”

“Yes, he is Duan Jiachen.” Zhang Jingkang curled her lips into a faint smile. “And precisely because he’s Duan Jiachen.”

“Why didn’t you know he’d come back? Why didn’t he tell you?”

“I think you’re an intelligent person, Song Jia Nan. You understand exactly what I mean.”

“He didn’t want you to know.”

“So there’s no need for you to know.”

Those words scraped across her heart like coarse sandpaper, carving into it again and again until her entire body shook with pain.

She looked once more at the drunken man lying on the floor, his brows tightly furrowed.

Then she spoke softly.

“I understand.”

“Today… I never saw this person.”

When Song Jia Nan returned to the table, Zeng Shuyi immediately noticed something was wrong.

“Song Jia Nan, what’s wrong? Are you feeling sick?”

She let out a long sigh, brushed her damp bangs behind her ear, and gave a slight bow.

“I’m sorry. I’m not feeling well, so I’m leaving first.”

Ignoring Zeng Shuyi calling after her, she turned and ran straight out of the restaurant.

It truly was the last day of the old year.

Everywhere she looked, people were laughing and celebrating.

A giant countdown clock stood in the square, surrounded by crowds watching the huge outdoor screen. On it, a male singer stood onstage, singing with heartbreaking emotion.

“Wanting to stay but unable to stay—that is the deepest loneliness…
The tenderness left unspoken becomes only a farewell song…
The second before my heart breaks, I hold you tightly in silence…
Using my heartbeat to send you away, with this sorrowful farewell…”

He had appeared beside her.

For the first time in three years, they had been so close.

Memories of the past spun wildly through her mind like a revolving lantern. All those happy moments, all those smiles, all those beautiful memories…

Were shattered completely by a single sentence.

“He didn’t want you to know. So there’s no need for you to know.”

A sharp pain stabbed through her heart again.

The agony swallowed her whole, wrapped itself around her until she could barely breathe.

She sat alone beside the fountain in the square, gasping for air.

It felt like betrayal.

It felt like deception.

It felt like being abandoned by everyone in the world.

Utterly alone.

And with no one she could tell.

Her phone vibrated continuously.

Messages from friends and coworkers arrived one after another, wishing her a Happy New Year.

She gripped the phone numbly, reading each text. More and more people crowded into the square, passing by her.

Everyone was smiling.

Everyone looked happy.

“Happy New Year, Song Jia Nan.”

She stared at that message for a very long time.

Then at the sender’s name.

Su Li.

Only after her fingers had gone completely numb from the cold did she slowly begin typing a reply.

As she pressed the keys, tears suddenly burst from her eyes without warning, splashing across the screen until the lights blurred into a haze.

It was as though all the grievances she had carried for so many years had finally found an outlet.

At first she only sniffled softly.

Then she began sobbing quietly.

She cried until she had no emotions left.

Only when someone nearby shouted, “The countdown! It’s New Year’s!” did she slowly lift her head.

In an instant, every light in the square went out.

The sudden darkness caught everyone by surprise.

Only the giant screen remained lit as its red numbers slowly changed…

Until they finally became 00:00.

In that very moment, the city’s night and its countless lights blossomed gently into brilliance.

The past was about to become the past.

As for the future…

She would quietly wait for it to arrive.

“I hope… next year, I’ll live happily.”