A Moment Too Late (GL) - Chapter 93

The tea house was built in a traditional style, with a clean, Japanese aesthetic. White walls were covered in green vines, the grey tiles had slightly upturned eaves, and the dry landscape design featured dim lighting.

As the three of them arrived, a waiter at the entrance quickly bowed and led them upstairs. The staircase spiraled upward.

Nan Xue gently tugged on Shu Yubai’s sleeve, the touch so light. Shu Yubai followed her, watching the slender and tall silhouette ahead, still seemingly reminiscing about that slight touch.

The two of them remained silent, neither speaking first.

At the top of the stairs, the waiter looked at her, unsure of what to do.

“Third floor, outdoor,” Nan Xue said softly.

On the third floor, there was a spacious terrace with several tables near the floor-to-ceiling windows inside, seating about four people.

Nan Xue walked outside and chose a table by the railing.

A few waiters came over to serve tea and water and brought a plate of sliced, light green guava.

The waiters stood aside, awaiting instructions.

Nan Xue’s assistant sat at a nearby table, waiting.

They sat by the edge as the sky gradually darkened. A cool breeze blew from the lake, and the small plants along the railing began to glow faintly, resembling fireflies dancing among the tree branches.

Nan Xue sat across from Shu Yubai, her chin resting casually on one hand. She stared at her for a moment with her beautiful, clear eyes that seemed devoid of emotion.

Under her gaze, Shu Yubai inexplicably wanted to avoid her eyes. Nan Xue’s natural demeanor only made Shu Yubai feel more disoriented, which was inappropriate and even a bit suspicious.

Her fingertips twitched slightly, but she quickly steadied herself and met Nan Xue’s gaze.

“What a coincidence.”

“I didn’t know it was you,” Shu Yubai said casually, trying to keep her tone natural and free of any excess emotion.

“I didn’t know it was you either,” Nan Xue replied softly, lowering her eyelashes and taking a sip of tea.

Her natural attitude left no room for fault, as if it was just a chance encounter. Shu Yubai quickly suppressed the fleeting feeling of self-indulgence that had arisen within her.

Could it be that Nan Xue sought her out on purpose?

Shu Yubai’s cheeks grew warm. What was she imagining?

Indeed… Nan Xue had moved on.

Meanwhile, Nan Xue’s assistant listened intently.

Did she just hear correctly?

What did they mean by “didn’t know it was you”?

A fleeting thought crossed her mind—could this “Teacher Shu” be her boss’s ex?

The wooden railing outside was adorned with small flowers—roses and monthly roses. The table held a few pots of hyacinths, their blue petals curled and delicate, soft and fragrant.

The moon rose, a pale crescent hanging in the light grey sky, like a touch of ochre on a painting.

As Shu Yubai observed Nan Xue’s expression, she wondered if she minded that it was her. She had seen Nan Xue at the art exhibition that day and asked if she had time, but Nan Xue had said she didn’t.

She probably didn’t care either way. Shu Yubai looked down, composed herself, and then looked up again, saying nonchalantly, “Do you… want to change teachers? I happen to be a bit busy these days. If you mind, I can recommend someone more reliable.”

Nan Xue asked softly, “Mind what?”

She raised an eyebrow slightly, tapping her slender, pale finger lightly on the wooden table before picking up the white porcelain teapot. She carefully held the lid and poured two cups of Longjing tea, pushing one towards Shu Yubai.

“Mind that you’re my ex-girlfriend?”

Nan Xue’s dark eyes looked at her, the edge of the small red lips pressing against the rim of the cup as she sipped the tea, her gaze indifferent as she smiled slightly, “I don’t mind. Do you?”

Shu Yubai felt a sting from her words.

“Ex-girlfriend,” indeed. They had been apart for a long time, and it was she who had initiated the breakup.

But she often felt confused, sometimes fooling herself into thinking they had only been separated, not broken up.

“If you don’t mind, what can I say?”

Shu Yubai took a deep breath and said, “Then let’s begin.”

As she looked down, she had a strange feeling, as if every move she made was being watched intently by Nan Xue. This subtle, unspoken scrutiny made her actions slightly stiff, and her ears felt hot, almost burning.

“That.”

Shu Yubai bent down and pulled a book from her bag.

She handed the book to Nan Xue and said, “This is for you.”

The book was old, with curled covers and yellowed pages, dark and worn. Opening to the first page, three elegant characters were written, delicate yet free-spirited, displaying her name: Shu Yubai.

“This is one of my old books.”

Shu Yubai cleared her throat and said, “You can look through it at home. If you have any questions, ask me.”

Nan Xue set the book aside and looked into her eyes, asking calmly, “What’s the schedule for the lessons?”

“Every weekend.”

Shu Yubai lowered her head and said softly, “From Monday to Friday, if you have any questions, you can ask me.”

Then, she suddenly remembered something.

“Um, Nan Xue…”

Calling her name unexpectedly made Shu Yubai’s heart skip a beat. Nan Xue was also slightly startled and looked over, her gaze questioning.

Many ways of phrasing her words flashed through Shu Yubai’s mind, but she forgot them all as soon as she met Nan Xue’s eyes. She paused for a moment before asking, “Do you… have a contact number?”

Nan Xue looked at her quietly, her dark eyes flashing with some emotion.

“I mean… it would be easier to stay in touch. It’s okay if you find it inconvenient. You could give me your assistant’s number instead…”

Shu Yubai rambled on, her cheeks growing hot as if the temperature had risen. Her tongue seemed tied, and her words became jumbled.

“Sure.”

Nan Xue gave her a meaningful look. “Let’s see if you remember it.”

Shu Yubai was taken aback.

What did she mean by that?

Had she not changed her number all these years?

She looked down and saw that the phone numbers saved in her contacts had long been deleted, leaving only a few casual friends. Nan Xue’s number was not among them. Shu Yubai sighed, resignedly entering a string of numbers, and then held the phone to her ear.

When she looked up, Nan Xue was watching her.

Her eyes were very calm, giving an illusion of seriousness.

Shu Yubai’s heart skipped a beat.

Then Nan Xue’s phone started ringing.

As Nan Xue picked it up from the table, Shu Yubai noticed that the screen had no name—just a number.

Shu Yubai hadn’t changed her number either.

For three years, Nan Xue had never called her.

Nan Xue had once saved her number under many names—sometimes “Sister,” sometimes something endearing like “Baby.”

It changed depending on her mood.

Now, there was nothing, just a series of digits.

It turned out that after deleting someone’s contact, the other person might also delete yours.

Shu Yubai looked down and smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

Nan Xue hung up and silently looked at her.

Shu Yubai couldn’t read the meaning in her eyes, so she simply lowered her head and ran her pale fingers through a strand of hair at her chest.

This moment stretched infinitely, as if time and space had lost their boundaries, becoming very still.

In the continuous sound of the wind, the distant lake shimmered under the light, with a few flat boats gliding across it. The faint indigo mountains in the distance overlapped at the horizon like an ink painting. A row of willow trees on the lake’s shore had sprouted new buds after several spring rains. The scattered sounds of passersby seemed to come from far away, barely audible.

“Is there anything else you need?”

In the quiet, a waiter approached, handing over a menu with a red cover and gold edges.

Shu Yubai, wearing a thin cardigan, had white and smooth shoulders with a strand of black hair falling over them. She flipped through the menu and ordered a plate of osmanthus cake in a soft voice before handing the menu to Nan Xue.

“Vinegar fish, pine nut crab corn, lotus leaf cake.”

Nan Xue ordered a few dishes in a casual tone. Shu Yubai was momentarily taken aback, staring at her—these were all her favorite dishes.

“What else would you like?”

Nan Xue handed her the menu. “Take a look yourself.”

Shu Yubai took it, leaning in a bit. Her index finger lightly brushed against Nan Xue’s, feeling cool and soft, with a slight tingle that ran up her arm.

“Two cups of kiwi juice.”

Shu Yubai curled her fingers slightly.

Nan Xue used to love drinking these sour things. After Shu Yubai drank them, her tongue would feel numb for a long time, unable to taste anything, but she still pretended to enjoy them alongside Nan Xue.

Nan Xue sat there watching her, and for a moment, neither of them spoke.

The atmosphere was a bit delicate.

Many years ago, it was like this.

That night, they walked through a small park, embraced, and shared passionate kisses. They watched a musical fountain and sat by the lake at a store with small candle lights. Outdoors.

All the details replayed like a movie.

Nan Xue used to call her “sister,” even more affectionately when moved. She said there was only one person in the world she would call that, and only she could call her that. But now, she never mentioned it.

Shu Yubai looked at her.

As night slowly fell, Nan Xue sat across from her, wearing a light camisole dress. Her collarbone was white and translucent, her black hair draped over her porcelain-like face, and her small red lips carried a hint of aloofness.

She… really wanted to hear her call her “sister” again.

A few days ago, there had been a light rain. After the rain, the water level of the lake rose significantly. The flowers along the shore bloomed fully—red cherry blossoms, pink peach blossoms, white apricot blossoms, all densely clustered on the branches, like a painting.

The sound of the violin stopped, replaced by a guitar. It played an unknown tune, evoking a sense of lonely wanderlust, faint and melancholic, like a cowboy sitting in a dry field, wearing a worn straw hat, with a deep expression.

Shu Yubai glanced at her and casually said:

“How have you been recently? Still tired?”

“Not bad.”

Nan Xue said softly, “Not really tired. I’m not alone; someone helps me manage things.”

A small scented candle on the table flickered, the flame dancing. There was a faint fragrance in the air, hard to discern, and only the sound of the wick burning with a soft crackle could be heard as the flame gradually consumed the candle.

Not alone?

What did that mean? Shu Yubai pondered. Was it that she wasn’t working alone, or… was she no longer alone in life?