A Moment Too Late (GL) - Chapter 2

The meeting place was at a nearby café. Shu Yubai parked the car, opened the door, and turned to look out. She saw the glass window with swirling snowflakes.

A woman sat elegantly by the window.

With long, flowing hair and a graceful profile, she held a white porcelain cup to her lips, her slender waist resting on the coat draped over the leather chair. She glanced at Shu Yubai through the window, not too far away, not too close.

They stared at each other for a while. The woman’s red lips curved into a smile, though she remained silent.

Shu Yubai paused for a moment, feeling slightly awkward, but gradually began to smile as well.

She looked down at the avatar and nickname in WeChat, then looked up at the woman in front of her.

What a coincidence.

It was her.

A university classmate.

It had been so long since they last met, her memory was hazy.

Shu Yubai opened the glass door and exhaled.

The past, with its blush of romance and all its laughable moments, seemed to dissolve in the night’s mist.

*Ding.*

—”When are you coming back?”

A WeChat message popped up.

Nan Xue looked down, staring at the message, her pale fingers tapping the screen to type a few words, then deleting them. The chat box remained empty.

The message was from her father.

Nan Xue was raised by her single father; her mother had remarried when she was young.

The message had been sent a few days ago. Nan Xue hadn’t replied, and her father sent another message: “Come back. Don’t cling to Shu Yubai like you did when you were little.”

“She has her own life. Marriage, children. What’s the point of following her around all the time?”

Nan Xue looked at the message, her fingertips trembling slightly, hovering in mid-air, then stopping.

*Ding.*

The elevator doors opened. Nan Xue put her phone back in her bag without replying to her father’s messages.

The place she lived was just a single apartment, a two-story duplex. It was nicely decorated but very cramped. The first floor had only space for changing shoes, dark and narrow. Her high heels quickly soaked the wooden floor with melted snow.

She silently removed her deer-skin short boots, sighing softly.

Shu Yubai hadn’t been doing well these past years.

Nan Xue looked through the small, dim window and thought that after all these years, this might be the first time Shu Yubai lived in such a cramped space.

The first floor was very small, with a light-colored oak staircase spiraling upwards. There were some miscellaneous items piled under the stairs—brushes, paint, canvases. The smell had a slightly pungent spiciness. In a corner, a small bucket contained brushes soaked in green paint used earlier in the morning.

She changed into slippers and, as usual, gazed at the stairwell. The air carried a faint scent of ink and watercolor.

A small window across the room allowed light from the closet to spill in.

It illuminated the paintings piled up under the stairs.

Covered in dust, the paintings were stacked—some framed, some just paper or canvas. The framed ones had been sold; the unframed ones hadn’t found buyers.

One, two, three, four.

Only four had been sold.

Nan Xue noticed that there were now a few more paintings stacked in the two piles. On display, one was of distant mountains and a village, and the other depicted the green willows of Jiangnan (Yangtze River).

The signature was in elegant small characters: Yubai.

Nan Xue looked at the paintings, leaned in, and lightly sniffed them. The scent was similar to that of Shu Yubai—fresh and with a hint of warm, woody incense.

Nan Xue closed her eyes, thinking of Shu Yubai.

The scent was comforting.

Perhaps due to the long delay in replying to her father’s messages, her phone rang again soon after, accompanied by urgent knocking at the door.

The screen displayed three characters: Nan Mingzhu.

Her father.

Nan Xue frowned, managing her irritation, and answered the call, “Dad.”

“Come back. I’m not familiar with Beijing, and there’s no one to take care of you.”

“Shu Yubai is here,” Nan Xue replied.

“Forget it, do as you like,” Nan Mingzhu seemed resigned. “I sent Assistant Xiao over this morning. Has he arrived yet?”

Nan Xue glanced at the door.

The door was locked, and through the peephole, she could see someone in the hallway.

The knocking was polite and very patient.

Nan Xue sighed, ending the call.

After a while, she opened the door.

Outside was her father’s assistant, Xiao He.

“Miss Nan, the chairman requests that you return home.”

••••

“Her father is a Zhejiang businessman. From Hangzhou.”

“And her mother? She left him years ago when her father went bankrupt. She’s short-sighted; that was Nan Mingzhu—now a leading figure in the real estate industry in Jiangnan. Ha, her new husband is just a small company’s boss. She must regret it.”

“Who would have thought Nan Mingzhu would become so successful after such hardships?”

••••

Shu Yubai frowned slightly, lifted her eyelids, and glanced impatiently at the nearby table.

A group of men at a four-person table were chatting loudly, gossiping while reading sensational news. It was quite bothersome.

“What’s wrong?”

The woman across from her raised an eyebrow.

She scrutinized Shu Yubai with a piercing gaze.

Her eyebrows were long and sharp, giving off a subtly oppressive air, much like before.

Her name was Xiao Yi, a name that seemed gentle.

Shu Yubai came to her senses and apologized, “It’s nothing, I…”

“Have you thought about it?”

The woman smiled slightly, her red lips curving up, her gaze softening a bit, “Working at an auction house isn’t worthy of you.”

“Not at all.” Shu Yubai quickly shook her head.

As she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear, she lowered her eyelashes and said:

“My current situation doesn’t really involve worthiness. Having a job is enough.”

Xiao Yi was taken aback, looking at her hands, and sighed, “Such a beautiful pair of painting hands—what a shame.”

Those hands were fair and slender, like smooth white jade, with delicate veins showing a hint of blue, exhibiting a refined, bone-like beauty with each movement.

These hands had once created countless indescribable beauties on canvas.

Unfortunately, what was once, was now only in the past.

When Shu Yubai was preparing for exams with her in the same art studio years ago, the teacher had commented on her hands, saying, “Among my students, there are only two with innate talent.”

Now one hand was ruined, leaving only the other. That person had held an exhibition, won awards, and graced numerous magazine covers at a young age. Shu Yubai was supposed to have achieved the same.

But alas.

“There’s nothing to regret.”

Shu Yubai said calmly, “Everyone lives their own way.”

“Though working at an auction house isn’t closely related to painting, it allows you to see many famous paintings and collectibles. Just being able to look at those collections and paintings every day is quite lucky.”

“Mm.” The woman smiled, “That’s right.”

She took out a business card from her bag and handed it over, “Would you like to consider a different job? It would be more relaxed and broaden your horizons and network.”

Her gaze carried a hint of an inscrutable smile, as if suggesting something.

Shu Yubai knew her.

They had attended the same university, where she was well-known.

Art schools often had more female students with same-sex interests, and this person was one of them. She had a gentle demeanor and good looks, often walking hand-in-hand with her girlfriend on campus.

But Shu Yubai had remembered her all these years, not because she was beautiful or for any other reason.

Simply because Xiao Yi had pursued her.

“Thank you.” Shu Yubai said, “I’ll think about it.”

Meeting with her wasn’t for a blind date or a romantic outing. The idea of a date was just a casual remark she made to Nan Xue in a moment of frustration.

She had heard from colleagues about a painting-related job opportunity, but it was in a different province, which made her hesitant.

If she had known it was Xiao Yi coming…

What difference would it have made?

Shu Yubai gently shook her head; she was no longer the spirited girl she used to be.

After discussing work for a while, the topic shifted.

Xiao Yi picked up her coffee and took a sip, hiding her feelings behind it, her lips pressed lightly: “If you had known it was me coming, would you have still come?”

The atmosphere became subtly tense for a moment.

“Yes.” Shu Yubai smiled softly, “It makes no difference. It’s you, so I should have come.”

Xiao Yi was slightly surprised, her eyes showing a moment of hope.

Shu Yubai continued, “We’re classmates. Why wouldn’t I come?”

Xiao Yi stared at her silently for a while before changing the subject, “How are you now? Where are you living? I have a place with a yard; if you need it…”

“Thank you, but no.” Shu Yubai gently shook her head and explained, “I’m living with someone else, so moving in would be inconvenient.”

Shu Yubai lowered her head, a fine strand of hair falling over her shoulder. The pale light from outside illuminated her chin, giving it a porcelain-like, translucent appearance.

The woman looked slightly taken aback.

“Who are you living with?” she asked.

Shu Yubai whispered, “A friend.”

“A friend?” Xiao Yi raised an eyebrow.

Shu Yubai lowered her head, her long hair cascading down. Amidst the dark locks, her white ear tips showed a hint of faint pink.

“She’s surnamed Nan.”

Frost had formed on the glass window.

The cold light from the street lamps cast a chill.

Nan Xue was waiting at home, the box of dumplings on the table still unopened, with cold air from outside swirling around it and ice crystals forming.

After some time, the dumplings began to thaw.

[Have you eaten?]

The screen lit up with a new message from someone pursuing her.

Nan Xue frowned and didn’t reply.

She glanced at her phone, scrolling through the chat history.

The person messaging her was a recent graduate, only slightly older than her. Each conversation was initiated by him and ended by Nan Xue.

People in love often lack self-awareness; he couldn’t perceive her cold replies.

Nan Xue looked at the box on the table, took a photo, and sent it.

[Wait for her to come back and eat together.]

[Is she your roommate?]

[Yeah, sort of.]

[Are you very close? Is she the one who picked you up tonight?]

[Yeah.]

[Does she pick you up every day?]

[Yeah.]

The boy sent more messages, which Nan Xue glanced at but wasn’t very interested in.

After a while, the phone dinged again with a teasing message: [Your relationship isn’t ordinary, huh?] with a sly smile.

She frowned at the message, feeling puzzled.

Nan Xue had a cold personality and rarely spoke much. Those who pursued her often felt anxious and unsure. The boy intended to test her feelings, saying things to provoke a reaction, but when Nan Xue didn’t reply for a long time, he panicked and said: [Sorry, I was just joking.]

Nan Xue paused, silent for a moment, then replied: [She’s a woman.]

Nan Xue didn’t want to continue the conversation, but he kept messaging:

[Do you have someone you like?]

[Why are you still single?]

Nan Xue looked at the messages, feeling a bit lost. She exited the chat, and after a moment of blankness, she found herself dialing Shu Yubai’s number.

The phone line played a raspy piano piece with poor sound quality. After a long while, the music finally stopped.

“Hello.” A soft, warm voice came from the other end.

“What time will you be back?” Nan Xue asked.

She could faintly hear the sound of soft violin music and another woman’s voice.

“I won’t be back tonight.”

Shu Yubai said gently, “Don’t wait for me. Go to bed early.”

Then the call ended.

Not coming back.

Don’t wait for me.

Not coming home tonight?

Nan Xue’s fingers hesitated mid-air. Going on a date and not coming home meant something she wasn’t unaware of.

Shu Yubai…

The paintings by the window seemed to emit a faint warm fragrance.

An hour ago.

In the quiet café, their voices were cautiously low.

“Is she a straight woman?”

The woman opposite lightly laughed, “The friend you mentioned, the one with the surname Nan.”

Her voice carried a teasing, nonchalant tone:

“You like her?”

Shu Yubai suddenly looked up, her dark eyes bright and filled with emotion—surprise, panic, and even shyness.

“No.”

She quickly shook her head.

Her clear eyes glistened with a hint of water, showing a guilty, tentative look as if asking: How did you know?

“I guessed.” The woman, seemingly seeing through her, smiled: “Don’t be too quick to deny it. I’m just joking.”

Joking?

Shu Yubai took a deep breath.

Click.

A woman in a checkered apron placed a cake on the table: “Enjoy your meal.”

Outside, it was already a dark snowy night.

Shu Yubai leaned against the window, the chandelier above, woven from thin vines, resembled a bird’s nest. Shadows on the table and glass were fragmented like the forest floor in daylight.

“Actually, did I guess right?”

The woman opposite had shadows of her eyelashes making her eyes look deep and mysterious.

“Wrong.”

Shu Yubai took a deep breath: “It’s all from a long time ago. Now, we’re just ordinary friends.”

“Oh.”

The woman smiled slightly: “You’ve given up on her.”

“…”

Shu Yubai looked down in silence.

Her fingers, however, clenched tightly, turning slightly white.

Then, the woman asked with interest: “But, would you like to test her feelings again?”