For the art exhibition Yan Yu was participating in, two people were already prepared.
But not everyone was as direct as Dai Feng and Bai Yan’er.
In a well-worn rented room.
The atmosphere here was completely different from the previous two locations.
Ruo Xiaozhen had almost instantly liked Yan Yu’s Friend Circle post and, fingers flying, left several enthusiastic comments below it:
“Xiao Yu is the best!!! The painting is so beautiful!!! (Crazy cheers)”
“As expected of my awesome roommate and bestie! So proud of you! (ง •_•)ง”
“I’ll definitely come to support you on Saturday! Wait for me!”
After posting the comments, she hugged her phone and read them over and over again with satisfaction, as if basking in reflected glory.
However, when she casually tapped on the detailed notice of the art exhibition to confirm the exact time, the smile on her face suddenly froze.
“W-Wait…” Her eyes flew wide open, and she read the notice twice more before letting out a wail. “Aaaaaah—! How could this be?!”
She sprang up from her bed, rolled around the mattress while clutching her phone, kicking the blanket aimlessly with her legs like a giant golden retriever whose beloved toy had been taken away.
“Why! Why does it have to be Saturday afternoon! Why did the exhibition have to clash with the field training for my elective! I can’t go to the exhibition with Xiao Yu. So unfair!!!”
Yan Yu was sitting on a small stool by the bed, quietly folding the warm clothes she had just brought in from the balcony.
Hearing Ruo Xiaozhen’s wails, she looked up and found her roommate rolling around in a mess on the bed, looking rather amused.
“It’s just an art exhibition,” Yan Yu’s voice carried a smile, gentle and clear. “Xiao Zhen, why do you want to go with me so much?”
Hearing this, Ruo Xiaozhen stopped rolling, poking half her body out from under the covers. Her hair was a messy nest, and her cheeks were flushed from the earlier excitement.
She looked at Yan Yu, her eyes sparkling, and answered without hesitation.
“Because—I’m really happy when I’m with you!”
She said it so matter-of-factly, so sincerely, that Yan Yu’s hands paused slightly in their folding.
“You’re happy with me? Really?” Yan Yu asked.
“Of course it’s true!” Ruo Xiaozhen nodded emphatically.
“You’re so clingy. What will you do when we graduate?” Yan Yu teased her.
At these words, the excitement on Ruo Xiaozhen’s face faded slightly, replaced by a hint of unease.
Graduation.
The word still seemed a bit distant and foreign to her, who had just started college not long ago. She didn’t speak immediately, falling silent as she hugged her knees and rested her chin on them.
“What’s wrong, Xiao Zhen?” Yan Yu noticed the shift in her mood and asked softly.
“It’s nothing.” Ruo Xiaozhen’s voice was muffled, carrying a rare hint of melancholy that didn’t match her usual energetic image. “It’s just that thinking about graduation makes me feel a bit… sad.”
“Sad?”
Yan Yu was a bit perplexed. This girl was usually so lively, as if no worry could hold her for more than three minutes. Her sudden sentimentality was rather unfamiliar.
“I mean,” Ruo Xiaozhen looked up at Yan Yu, a complex emotion in her eyes. “Xiao Yu, after we graduate, we’ll definitely be busy finding jobs and interning, right? Once we’re stable in our careers, we might have to think about marriage, then start our own families…”
Yan Yu’s hands paused for two seconds. From the perspective of the common social clock and life trajectory, what Ruo Xiaozhen said was indeed the “norm.”
“If that happens,” Ruo Xiaozhen’s voice dropped even lower, carrying a loss she herself didn’t fully understand. “The distance between you and me is bound to grow, isn’t it?”
This “distance” referred not only to physical space but also to life trajectories and the kind of close, inseparable companionship they shared day and night.
Yan Yu fell silent. She didn’t know how to respond.
She had time-traveled here, becoming “Yan Yu.” All she cared about was starting a new life, striving to survive, and trying to live better.
She hadn’t thought too deeply about the more distant future, about worldly destinations like “marriage” or “family.” Perhaps she even instinctively avoided it.
After all, from her most fundamental inner identity, even if she were to establish an intimate relationship in the future, she could only accept being with a woman.
But come to think of it, in this world, women and women could get married, right?
Yan Yu didn’t dwell too deeply on it.
“Well…” Yan Yu chose her words carefully, trying to lighten the mood. “Who can say for sure about the future? Maybe we’ll still be neighbors by then, or working together?”
But Ruo Xiaozhen shook her head, looking at Yan Yu with unprecedented determination in her eyes that were usually so full of laughter. “I don’t want that kind of ending at all.”
She paused, as if making up her mind, finally voicing a thought buried deep in her heart for a long time.
“Xiao Yu, I want to be with you forever. Even if you think I’m too clingy, it doesn’t matter.”
“Even if… even if the two of us just end up together for the rest of our lives, that would be nice…”
Saying this, she suddenly seemed to realize that her words harbored feelings far beyond the boundaries of “best friends.” Her face flushed bright red in an instant, the color spreading to the tips of her ears. She clapped her hand over her mouth, eyes wide with shyness.
“What’s wrong?” Yan Yu was puzzled by her sudden reaction and turned to ask.
But Ruo Xiaozhen had already sprung up from the bed like a startled rabbit. She frantically smoothed out her wrinkled bathrobe and rushed towards the door.
“N-Nothing!” Her voice cracked. She didn’t dare turn her head. “Ah, right! I think my package is here! I-I’ll go grab it!”
Before she finished speaking, she had vanished out the door with a whoosh, leaving only the soft bang of the closing door and the lingering, flustered, ambiguous atmosphere in the room.
Yan Yu was left alone in the room, holding the half-folded dress.
She looked at the closed door, then down at the clothes in her hands, tilting her head slightly as a hint of confusion passed through her clear eyes.
Outside the window, the sky was gradually darkening.
—
On Saturday morning, sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft light spots on the wooden floor of the rented room.
When Yan Yu woke up, the bed beside her was empty.
Ruo Xiaozhen had an 8 AM elective and had already left. The room still carried the faint, sun-drenched scent of her laundry detergent.
Yan Yu sat up, rubbed her eyes, and her gaze fell on the desk.
On it was a clean ceramic plate with two slices of toast, cut in half and spread generously with chocolate sauce. Beside it, she had thoughtfully placed a small carton of fresh milk.
Under the plate was a sticky note with Ruo Xiaozhen’s somewhat childish handwriting: “Xiao Yu, good morning! (o^v^o) Remember to eat breakfast! I’ll try my best to get there after class!”
Looking at the thoughtful breakfast, Yan Yu felt a warmth in her heart.
She picked up the milk, inserted the straw, and drank slowly, eating half the bread along with the milk.
The chocolate sauce was sweet, sweet just right, dispelling the last traces of morning drowsiness.
After breakfast and freshening up, Yan Yu began to prepare her outfit for going out.
She opened the wardrobe, her fingers gliding over the row of clothes, finally stopping on a sky-blue collarless dress.
She had specifically picked it out online a few days ago. The style was simple and elegant, the color refreshing, perfect for summer.
She took out the dress, paired it with a simple white woven belt, and finally chose a pair of light brown leather sandals.
Honestly, Yan Yu didn’t know much about dressing up at first. To study all aspects of being a girl, she had recently learned a lot of styling tips from fashion blogger videos. Now, she was getting more and more adept at matching clothes and even starting to enjoy it a little.
Dressed neatly, Yan Yu stood in front of the mirror and carefully, slowly, turned around once.
The hem of the skirt swirled into a soft arc with the movement.
The gradual recovery of her body and the return of strength to her legs allowed her to perform this simple action that was once beyond her reach. Although she still couldn’t stand for long or walk fast, the joy of regaining control over her body was irreplaceable by anything else.
However, Yan Yu didn’t plan on showing signs of recovery so quickly in front of others. She was well aware that her recovery speed was “unreasonable” by this world’s medical standards. The existence of the System was her biggest secret. She had to keep a low profile when necessary.
She didn’t linger at home for long. After checking her small bag, she maneuvered her wheelchair and headed out.
She was still using the lightweight manual wheelchair, not an electric one.
A special note here: Yan Yu’s choice wasn’t entirely for financial reasons.
Firstly, a manual wheelchair requires active effort to propel, effectively exercising her upper limbs, shoulders, and back, and providing a gentle workout for her heart and lungs. For someone needing to maintain and increase muscle strength, it was more of an active rehabilitation tool. An electric wheelchair, being more of a passive mobility aid, would cause her to lose many opportunities to move her body.
Secondly, the manual wheelchair was more lightweight and foldable, easy to put in a car trunk or take on public transport. For someone who needed to go out frequently, it was more practical.
Finally, in relatively small or crowded indoor environments, a manual wheelchair had a smaller turning radius, was more flexible and precise to maneuver, didn’t take up too much space, and was easier to avoid people.
Out the door, she took a bus, got off, and her phone’s navigation clearly guided the way.
Yan Yu maneuvered her wheelchair through the streets, which were still not too crowded on Saturday morning.
The summer breeze swept past her cheeks with a warm breath, the lush camphor leaves by the roadside shining brightly in the sunlight.
The journey was smooth, and the modern gray building of the City Art Museum soon came into view.
Even from a distance, she could see a crowd gathering at the entrance of the museum, bustling and quite lively.
Although events like art exhibitions usually don’t attract as many people as food festivals or flower shows, the theme of this exhibition was “City·Scenery·Memory,” closely related to the land everyone lived on. The collision of familiar hometown nostalgia and artistic expression still attracted many citizens.
Yan Yu maneuvered her wheelchair forward.
The ticket-checking line wasn’t long, so she waited quietly at the back.
Before long, it was her turn.
The staff member was a young woman with a smile on her face.
“Hello, please show your ticket or reservation code,” the staff member said routinely.
“I don’t have a ticket,” Yan Yu replied calmly. Before the other person could show a hint of confusion, she continued, “My name is Yan Yu, and I’m one of the participating artists in this exhibition. The organizers informed me earlier that I could enter directly.”
“Yan Yu?” The staff member was startled, then, as if suddenly remembering something, her expression immediately shifted to surprise, even carrying a hint of respect. “Oh my! It’s Miss Yan! Sorry, sorry, I didn’t recognize you immediately!”
She quickly sidestepped, promptly opened the side door used for staff and special guests, and made a “please” gesture. “Please, come in! The management has already informed us. I’m so sorry for making you wait.”
The staff member’s attitude was very enthusiastic. “Um… there are also small souvenirs prepared for the participating artists. After you finish your visit, you can collect them directly at the service desk by the exit.”
“Thank you.”
Yan Yu nodded politely to her, maneuvered her wheelchair, and smoothly glided through the special passage into the museum.
Once inside, the sufficient air conditioning immediately hit her, dispelling the summer heat outside.
The interior space of the museum had a very high ceiling. The lighting was expertly designed, bright and soft, focusing on the various paintings. There were more visitors inside than it seemed from outside, gathered in small groups in front of different paintings, chatting softly or admiring them quietly.
Because she was sitting, Yan Yu’s line of sight was lower than most standing visitors.
She paused briefly at the entrance, looking around. The moving crowd sometimes blocked her view, preventing her from seeing the entire layout of the hall and the paintings hung further away.
Without a choice, she had to maneuver her wheelchair herself, carefully weaving through the visitors, softly saying, “Excuse me, coming through,” as she slowly approached the paintings she wanted to see.
She wasn’t in a hurry to find her own painting, “Time’s Shadow,” and instead planned to first look at the works of other participants.
Just as Yan Yu’s figure disappeared into the crowd deep in the exhibition hall.
Not far behind her, behind a wall used as a partition, covered in small decorative prints.
A figure wearing a black baseball cap, a black mask, a loose black T-shirt, and cargo pants was leaning out slightly, their gaze fixed firmly on the figure of the girl in the wheelchair.
“Sister Dai, are you sure… you want to follow her around like this, all sneaky?”
A voice full of helplessness sounded from beside this figure.
Dai Feng, wearing a black cap and mask, was startled, quickly retracting her body and glaring at A Yue, who had somehow sidled up beside her without her noticing.