That night, Su Qinghan had a dream.
In the dream, time was pulled back to a year ago, Yan Yu’s birthday.
That morning, Yan Yu said to her,
“Qinghan, can you come back early today? Let’s celebrate my birthday together.”
Su Qinghan was facing her computer, handling an urgent international project meeting.
Without lifting her head, she merely gave a perfunctory “Mm.”
Yan Yu seemed to stand behind her for a few seconds, but ultimately said nothing more and gently closed the study door.
When Su Qinghan finally finished work and rubbed her sore neck to look out the window, the sky was already pitch black.
She glanced at her phone—11:47 PM. No missed calls, only a text message sent at 7 PM:
“I bought the cake, your favorite chocolate flavor. I’ll wait for you.”
She frowned, a trace of inexplicable impatience passing through her heart, but eventually she picked up her car keys and went out.
When she returned home, only a dim wall lamp was lit in the living room.
At the entrance, her slippers were neatly placed.
The air carried a faint, sweet cream aroma.
She changed shoes, tossed her bag onto the nearby coat rack, and looked up to see Yan Yu sitting at the dining table.
On the table was an exquisite chocolate cake.
The small candles had already burned out, leaving only a few solidified wax drips.
In front of Yan Yu was a plate of cut cake that remained untouched.
She sat upright, hands quietly folded on her knees, her gaze vacant on the cake, lost in thought.
The warm yellow light fell on her profile, outlining a transparent stillness.
Hearing the sound, Yan Yu looked up.
Seeing it was her, her eyes suddenly lit up, then curved into a soft smile.
“You’re back.”
Su Qinghan walked over and touched the edge of the cake with her fingertips.
It was cold.
“Why did you wait so late? If you were hungry, you should have eaten first.”
Her voice carried the fatigue of work, sounding dry and flat.
“Because I wanted to eat with you.”
Yan Yu said softly, the smile on her face unwavering, even deepening.
Su Qinghan looked at the smile on her face, and a corner of her heart pricked slightly.
It was hard to imagine that someone could wait for another person for five or six hours and still show such a smile—no anxiety, no complaint, only pure joy at seeing you return.
“You should eat when you’re hungry.
Your body is weak anyway.”
She looked away, picked up the cake knife, cut a piece with frosting, and placed it on the plate in front of Yan Yu.
“Eat.”
Then, she pulled a few bills from her wallet and pressed them next to the cake plate.
“I was too busy this time to get you a gift.
Take this money and buy whatever you like.”
Yan Yu’s gaze lingered on those red bills for an extremely brief moment.
Her long lashes trembled, then she looked up at her again, the smile still hanging at the corners of her mouth, and obediently replied,
“Okay.”
She picked up the small fork, scooped a corner of the cake, and put it in her mouth, chewing slowly, her face still carrying that smile that Su Qinghan couldn’t understand.
That smile was too appropriate, too docile, too flawless.
Su Qinghan watched, and the subtle sting in her heart suddenly turned into a cold, hard lump.
‘In an act? This woman.’
‘At that moment, she thought coldly to herself, she’s putting on such a show, just hoping to squeeze more money out of my pocket.’
‘That’s fine.
She needed a psychological comfort when Jiang Muyun wasn’s around.
Each takes what they need, very fair.’
This thought made her even more irritable.
As if to prove something or to draw a line, she pulled two more bills from her wallet and tossed them onto the previous stack.
“Take your time eating.”
“Qinghan, aren’t you eating together?”
Yan Yu stopped and looked at her.
“Mm.”
Su Qinghan had already turned to walk toward the bedroom, her voice carried from a few steps away, sounding a bit hollow.
“I’m going to sleep first.”
She walked toward the bedroom, her footsteps echoing in the empty living room.
She could feel a gaze behind her, quietly and stickily resting on her back.
‘What expression did Yan Yu have at that moment?’
‘Did the smile on her lips finally collapse?’
‘In those eyes that always held gentle moonlight, did disappointment finally show?’
‘What was she thinking? Was she counting how much money she got tonight, or something else?’
Su Qinghan didn’t know.
She didn’t turn back then, and never thought to turn back.
But in the dream, everything changed.
In the dream, the “herself” who walked toward the bedroom, at the moment she grabbed the doorknob, for some reason, as if possessed, turned back.
Then, she unexpectedly met Yan Yu’s eyes.
Yan Yu wasn’t counting money, nor was she still eating cake.
She just sat there quietly, looking at her.
The moment Su Qinghan turned around, Yan Yu seemed to freeze for a split second.
Then, the smile that had been perfectly plastered on her face slowly faded like receding tide, revealing the most original look beneath—no resentment, no accusation, only a thick, unshakable disappointment.
That disappointment was so heavy it nearly drowned her slender form.
She looked at “Su Qinghan,” her lips moving slightly, her voice floating over.
“I wanted to eat with you.”
In the dream, Su Qinghan, holding the doorknob, heard her own silent heartbeat.
The living room light seemed to dim for a moment, then brightened, exposing the cautious hope in Yan Yu’s eyes, leaving nowhere to hide.
A few seconds of blankness, as if stretched infinitely.
Then, Su Qinghan heard the sound from her own throat.
“…Okay.”
She let go of the doorknob, turned around, and walked back toward the dining table, toward Yan Yu sitting under the light.
If the past self had really made that choice, would everything now be different?