A Number That Refuses to Be Forgotten

Qin Huairen’s little volcano was about to erupt.

Wen Yuzhi let out a soft sigh and said helplessly, “I was joking. Do you really believe her when she said there were bugs in the flowers?”

“Whatever she says, I believe.”

Qin Huairen was the type to speak stubbornly even when she knew better.

She understood perfectly well that all commercial bouquets were treated before sale.

The real reason did not matter that much.

The mere fact that the bouquet had been sent by Wen Yuzhi’s secretary, Yan Qing, already felt like a stone pressing on her chest.

When Xu Jianing threw it away without her knowing, she had felt an inexplicable sense of relief.

She was not even afraid of bugs anymore.

Xu Jianing had been wrong to throw the flowers, but they could have discussed it privately.

Wen Yuzhi nodded and said it might have been Yan Qing’s oversight and that she would remind her in the future.

Her sudden obedience caught Qin Huairen off guard.

For a moment, she did not know what to say.

Wen Yuzhi handed her a gift bag she had prepared in advance.

Qin Huairen instinctively wanted to refuse.

But Wen Yuzhi explained that inside were photos from their final competition before graduation, along with souvenirs prepared by the host university.

“They couldn’t reach you, so they gave them to me,” she said, placing the bag into Qin Huairen’s hands.

“Wait here a moment.”

She turned and disappeared into the alley.

Qin Huairen opened the bag.

Inside were commemorative stationery items designed around that year’s competition theme.

She had loved them back then.

But the teacher had said they were for display only, not for sale.

Now, seeing the ruler, pen, and eraser arranged neatly inside, she felt a wave of nostalgia.

That competition had been their toughest.

But they had worked flawlessly together and won.

There were also fridge magnets from local landmarks she had wanted to visit but never had the chance to.

A full set of scenic stamp booklets was included.

She flipped through them several times, murmuring, “So thoughtful. Where else would you find such a considerate competition committee?”

The wooden photo frames carried a familiar woody scent.

She leaned closer and inhaled.

“It smells like Wen Yuzhi’s perfume.”

She had always liked woody fragrances.

The subtle scent relaxed her completely.

Only then did she realize something.

Whenever she was alone with Wen Yuzhi, her body and nerves were always tense.

She was constantly on guard.

There were three photos.

One was a group photo of all participants.

One was a photo of students from Jingzhou.

The last one was a picture of just the two of them.

Though “together” was not quite accurate.

They were both hanging blessing plaques on the school’s ancient ginkgo tree.

It had been New Year’s Day.

Fresh snow had fallen.

It was freezing.

The cafeteria had been closed, and Wen Yuzhi had treated everyone to breakfast.

Qin Huairen still remembered the hot fried dough sticks, soup dumplings, and duck blood vermicelli soup.

Afterward, there was free time.

She had wandered around campus and eventually gone to the ginkgo tree.

She had not even known Wen Yuzhi was behind her.

They were wearing custom competition uniforms from Jingzhou University.

She was dressed in white.

Wen Yuzhi was in black.

Standing in the snow, the contrast was striking.

The black outfit made Wen Yuzhi’s skin appear even colder and paler.

Her side profile was sharp, almost sculpted.

The afternoon sun gilded the snow.

Wen Yuzhi shone brilliantly against the winter landscape.

“That face…”

Qin Huairen clicked her tongue in reluctant admiration.

Whoever had taken the photo had done a good job.

It was also the only time Wen Yuzhi had participated in a photo together.

On the day of the awards ceremony, Qin Huairen had thought Wen Yuzhi would show up.

But in the end, she had stood on the podium alone.

At the very bottom of the bag, there was a folded piece of paper.

The edges were uneven, clearly torn hastily.

She unfolded it.

It was Wen Yuzhi’s phone number.

Below it was written: Contact anytime.

And beneath that, in smaller handwriting: The middle digits are your birthday, the last ones are mine. Easy to remember, right?

It would have been better if she had not pointed that out.

Now Qin Huairen remembered it instantly.

She crushed the paper into a ball.

But the number would not leave her mind.

How irritating.

She did not want to remember Wen Yuzhi’s phone number at all.

When she got home, she changed clothes and collapsed onto the sofa.

She had finally taken a day off and only wanted to rest.

But ever since running into Wen Yuzhi, the balance she had maintained for over a month had begun to tilt again.

She kicked a pillow in frustration and turned over, planning to nap.

Her phone rang again.

She groaned loudly.

Who now?

An unfamiliar number from Jinchuan.

After a moment’s hesitation, she answered.

It was the male reporter from the anniversary celebration, apologizing for his earlier question.

His apology sounded light.

“Just because you say you didn’t mean it, I have to forgive you?” she said coldly.

“Have you seen the online comments? My sexual orientation is trending. People are treating it as gossip.”

That night she had scrolled through social media.

People were debating whether she liked Wen Yuzhi.

Many believed the reporter’s insinuation was true.

Otherwise, why would she constantly clash with Wen Yuzhi?

Was it unrequited love turned into resentment?

Some pointed out she had never dated anyone.

Not even a close male friend.

Suspicious, they said.

Meanwhile, no one questioned Wen Yuzhi’s orientation.

Her social circle was filled with accomplished men.

Photos proved it.

Qin Huairen had scoffed.

Even if she were gay, why would she like someone who always opposed her?

The topic multiplied like mushrooms after rain.

She knew responding would only fuel it.

So she ignored it.

If she did not appear, people would soon move on.

The reporter offered to clarify publicly.

“Clarify?” she laughed.

“A stranger clarifying my sexual orientation sounds ridiculous.”

“I smashed your camera. I won’t compensate you. We’re even. Next time, I’ll send you a lawyer’s letter.”

Before hanging up, the reporter insisted it had nothing to do with Wen Yuzhi.

That only sounded more suspicious.

She did not know why Wen Yuzhi would do such a thing.

Nor did she care.

In her eyes, Wen Yuzhi was simply abnormal.

Just as she thought she could finally rest, Xu Jianing called, inviting her to dinner at Qinhuai Renjia, a popular Chinese restaurant that had opened last year.

Xu Jianing still sounded nasal and tired.

Qin Huairen agreed anyway.

That evening, she wore a turtleneck under a trench coat and headed downstairs.

Rush hour.

Red leaves framed the Maple Leaf Hotel.

Cold wind slipped beneath her coat.

She hesitated at the roadside.

Taking a taxi meant traffic and extra money.

Public transport meant crowds.

As she debated, a black Mercedes slowly pulled up beside her.

She stared at it.

Then checked the license plate again.

She had not mistaken it.

It was Wen Yuzhi’s car.