I'm Interested In Your Friend - Chapter 40
40
Nicotine burned in the night.
A slender finger pinched a cigarette.
Unsmoked.
Tan Suran stood in the courtyard, arms crossed, quietly watching the dim orange glow at her fingertips.
Li Qianman stepped out, draped in a shawl, and lifted the curtain. Seeing Tan Suran, she chuckled lightly: “Such a beautiful night, and you’re here smoking alone.”
Tan Suran flicked the ash from her cigarette: “Aren’t you the same?”
“We’re not the same,” Li Qianman said meaningfully.
Tan Suran took a slow drag, exhaling: “I don’t like taking advantage of others.”
“Oh, so principled.”
The pale moonlight spilled over the fence, casting a delicate glow on Tan Suran’s sharp profile.
Li Qianman narrowed her eyes, a strange sense of familiarity washing over her: “Have we… met before?”
Tan Suran’s expression remained unmoved as she stated objectively: “Many people in this world have seen me—financial news, television reports. Tens of thousands, and that’s being modest.”
“No… no, I mean, right here. A few years ago. Have you been here before?” Li Qianman was referring to Zhushan Cottage.
The lamplight stretched their shadows long against the courtyard wall.
The trees rustled.
Tan Suran didn’t answer Li Qianman’s question. Instead, she said, “I’m tired. I’m leaving.”
With a pinch of her fingers, she crushed the cigarette butt and tossed it into the trash before walking away, her tall figure disappearing toward her room.
Li Qianman stared after her, lost in thought.
…
The next morning.
When Yu Lili woke, the sun was already high.
She propped herself up on the bed and instinctively glanced to the side.
The pillow was smooth and empty.
She turned her head, scanning the room.
No one.
Where was Tan Suran?
Memories of the previous night flooded back.
Her fingers brushed against her lips.
A gentle press.
Soft.
Pink.
Last night…
In the courtyard.
She had boldly leaned in, offering herself.
Like an invitation for Tan Suran to taste.
Restless, flustered, eagerly waiting.
But then…
Hiss.
They hadn’t kissed.
The tension had been too agonizing, and drowsiness had overtaken her. Her head had lolled to the side, and she’d fallen asleep.
Had Tan Suran carried her back to the room?
The thought made Yu Lili smile.
Heh.
She wondered if Tan Suran had stolen a kiss while she was asleep.
After all, Yu Lili rubbed her cheeks—how could anyone resist her cuteness?
She refused to believe Tan Suran wasn’t moved.
But then again, things had come this far. She needed to be brave, proactive, and straightforward.
After all, she was the one who fell first.
Click— The sound of the door handle turning came from the entrance.
The door opened.
A faint breeze drifted in.
So that’s where she’d gone.
Yu Lili kept her back to the door, not planning to turn around.
What she was about to say made her a little shy.
She straightened her back, fingers tightly intertwined: “Um… I have something to tell you.”
“Don’t say anything, and don’t interrupt me. Just listen.”
“…I think fate is really something magical. It’s not easy for two people to meet. I don’t even know when it started, but my heart races whenever I hear your name or see your shadow.”
“Alright… actually, after all that, the main point is just one thing…”
Yu Lili’s cheeks flushed slightly as she softly called out her name: “Tan Suran, would you like to try… with me?”
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
The clock ticked away.
But behind her, the silence was deafening. No sound at all.
Yu Lili’s fingers twisted nervously, her calves trembling with tension.
But as the silence dragged on, her eyelids drooped with disappointment.
Why wasn’t Tan Suran answering? Was she thinking of how to reject her?
Yu Lili bit her lip and turned her head dejectedly: “I—”
Her words died in her throat as her pupils shrank.
Standing at the door, holding something in one hand, was Chi Qinxue—her face a picture of awkwardness.
“Sorry, Sister Lili…”
Chi Qinxue blushed apologetically.
“At first, I wanted to greet you, but you told me not to speak. Well… I only realized later that you weren’t talking to me…”
Yu Lili was torn between frustration and the urge to dig a hole and bury herself.
Why was it her…?
Huh?
This kid…
Oh my god.
Chi Qinxue set the things down by the door: “Sorry, sorry! Sister Man told me to wake you up for breakfast. I didn’t hear anything at all.”
With that, Chi Qinxue slammed the door shut and bolted like a rabbit.
Yu Lili: “…”
…
After breakfast, Yu Lili changed into a loose striped outfit and prepared to head down the mountain.
Leaning against the counter, she tapped her phone idly on the table: “Someone will come to pick up the bucket of clothes in my room this afternoon.”
Li Qianman, who was packing tea leaves, nodded: “No problem. Come back to visit in a few days.”
Yu Lili beckoned Chi Qinxue—who had been avoiding eye contact and blushing furiously whenever she saw her—to the side.
Narrowing her eyes: “What we talked about these past two days—just between us, got it?”
Chi Qinxue nodded frantically, even miming zipping her lips shut.
Yu Lili patted the girl’s shoulder, adopting the sinister aura of a movie villain: “Let me lay it all out—my real identity is the princess of the mafia. So…” She drew a finger across her throat in a threatening gesture.
Only after Chi Qinxue nodded repeatedly did Yu Lili finally relax and get into the car home.
…
The moment she stepped into the Yu residence, she nearly walked straight into a slap.
“Running around when you’re injured! I told you to stay home and rest. Where did you run off to?” Mother Yu scolded sharply.
Yu Lili dodged reflexively: “Mom, I told you—I went to Qingyong Mountain to clear my head.”
Mother Yu sat on the sofa, giving her a frosty sidelong glance: “Was that telling me or informing me?”
Yu Lili muttered under her breath: “Isn’t it the same thing?”
“What did you say?” Mother Yu’s icy interrogation followed.
“I said…” Yu Lili grinned, plopping down beside her mother and burying her head in her arm. “My mom is so beautiful, smart, and endlessly charming!”
Mother Yu struggled to keep a straight face but eventually cracked, half-smiling, half-scolding as she tapped Yu Lili’s fluffy head: “Always so cheeky.”
With her mother appeased, Yu Lili bounced back to her room.
She opened her phone to a message from Amy, her former colleague at Pictorial:
[Wow, just saw this leak online. Justice comes for everyone eventually—sharing it with you ASAP!]
The link Amy sent led to a gossip post claiming that a popular two-syllable Y-surname actress had been unofficially blacklisted due to some incident. The new drama she was filming had halted production to recast the lead.
Before Yu Lili could finish reading, Amy sent another message:
[It’s legit. A friend at a magazine told me that the cover Yu Meng was supposed to shoot next month has already been reassigned to someone else.]
[After what she did to you, this is so satisfying!]
After exchanging a few pleasantries with Amy and setting a date to meet for dinner, Yu Lili went to Weibo to check on Yu Meng’s recent activity.
Since the incident, both Yu Meng’s personal and studio accounts had gone silent. After the rumors surfaced, fans demanded clarification from the studio, but there was no response.
Big-name fans who had previously led the charge seemed to have caught wind of something and clammed up.
The supertopic was flooded with gloating rival fans.
Yu Lili felt vindicated.
But thinking of Yu Meng reminded her of the birthday gift she’d mentioned—the one Tan Suran had given her for her seventeenth birthday.
She genuinely couldn’t remember it at all.
Leaving her room, Yu Lili went downstairs and found the family housekeeper: “Auntie Zhang, do you remember the birthday gifts I got when I was seventeen?”
Auntie Zhang looked thoughtful.
Asking a woman in her fifties to recall something from so long ago was a bit unfair.
Yu Lili waved it off: “Never mind, just a random question.”
Auntie Zhang nodded: “Some of your childhood things are stored in the third-floor storage room. Do you need me to look for something?”
But what exactly was she looking for?
Yu Lili herself didn’t know.
“It’s fine, I’ll go take a look myself.”
The storage room was tidy and well-kept, though it carried a musty air of disuse.
This room was dedicated to Yu Lili’s belongings—mostly items from her school days.
Notebooks filled to the last page, pens with barely any ink left, yearbooks, student IDs—odds and ends.
These things were easy to forget until suddenly seeing them again evoked a pang of nostalgia. Another shelf held boxes of various sizes. Yu Lili tapped a blue gift box lightly.
It felt empty.
She opened it—nothing inside.
Had she collected empty boxes as a child?
Then again, considering the array of camera lenses in her photography room now, collecting anything wasn’t out of character.
Yu Lili didn’t dwell on it, returning the box to its place.
After a thorough search, she found no trace of anything related to her seventeenth birthday and left empty-handed.
…
After resting at home for a few days, Yu Lili returned to work.
In the following weeks, several changes unfolded in her life.
The CP fan who had kidnapped her was under investigation for assault and unlawful trespassing.
Yu Meng had vanished—reportedly unable to stay in the country and fleeing abroad.
And her dear friend Du Tanyu had boarded a flight for further studies, leaving the embrace of the motherland.
But distance and time zones did nothing to weaken their bond.
Due to language barriers, Du Tanyu contacted Yu Lili even more frequently than when they were both in Lihua.
Once, she called Yu Lili in the middle of the night, lost and unable to find her way home. After a comically difficult exchange with a foreign passerby (involving much gesturing and charades), Du Tanyu finally made it back.
“Girl, next time you run into trouble like this, just call Lao Qi. Why ask me when you have a genius polyglot like him around? It’s like going to a steakhouse and demanding the chef make you a bowl of old Beijing fried sauce noodles.”
Normally, Du Tanyu would have fired back with one of her hundreds of retorts, but this time, she fell silent before steering the conversation elsewhere.
Yu Lili sensed something was off: “What’s wrong? Did you and Lao Qi have a fight?”
Du Tanyu was quiet for a moment before replying softly: “Does Qi Luo seem like the type to fight?”
“Then what’s going on?”
“Ah… it’s hard to explain. I’ll tell you when I get back.”
Du Tanyu didn’t elaborate, and they ended the call after a few more words.
As for Tan Suran…
Though Yu Lili still didn’t know when Tan Suran had seen through her clumsy disguise, her current concern was the soul-searching question Chi Qinxue had posed during their barbecue night—did Tan Suran actually like her?
But since then, the two hadn’t had a chance to meet.
From the daily news alone, Yu Lili knew Tan Suran was swamped.
New products were thriving, with version after version rolling out for testing.
According to Du Tanyu, the boss of the company that had framed Tan Suran had been sent to prison.
With her streak of bad luck broken, her career was soaring.
Yes, even though Du Tanyu was in England, gossip and industry rumors remained firmly within her grasp.
The title of “social butterfly” wasn’t for nothing.
Knock—
Yu Lili snapped out of her thoughts and turned toward the sound.
“Lili, help me take a look.” Guan Xi, sitting diagonally across from her, tapped Yu Lili’s partition.
Thinking it was work-related, Yu Lili looked over—only to find Guan Xi’s phone screen filled with birthday gift options for elementary school girls.
“You’re young. Help me pick something a kid would like. My daughter’s birthday is coming up.”
Yu Lili: … Sister Xi, I may be young, but I’m not exactly tuned in to elementary school trends.
Reluctantly, Yu Lili took Guan Xi’s phone and selected the flash card set she’d loved most as a child.
Guan Xi nodded and passed the phone to Li Mi beside her.
Li Mi peeked over: “Sister Xi, if you’re looking at this now, does that mean the proposal due by the end of the day is done?”
“The industry seminar is about to start. I’ll work on it during the meeting. These things are just for show anyway.” Guan Xi checked the time. “It’s almost time. Let’s pack up and go?”
The seminar, led by the city’s broadcasting network and co-hosted by several magazines, was an internal discussion on the development of the fashion industry.
Held every three months, its ceremonial function far outweighed its practical value.
On the way to the venue, Li Mi said, “You know, I heard there’s a heavyweight guest this time.”
Yu Lili yawned, uninterested: “Who?”
“Tan Suran.”
Yu Lili’s drowsy eyes instantly brightened.
But it seemed impossible.
Why would Tan Suran come here?
Someone voiced her thoughts: “Isn’t Tan Suran working on her AI language model? My friend just asked me if I knew anyone who could get them a beta invite.”
“Exactly. How would she have time for this? It’s not even the same industry.”
Guan Xi chimed in: “Did you forget? She’s still the major shareholder of the fashion group that owns Pictorial.”
“Whoa. If she really shows up today, can I go up and beg the big boss for an account?”
“Hah, with dozens of people there and so many big shots, good luck getting a word in.”
The chatter around her grew lively.
Yu Lili’s heart was in turmoil.
Would she really… see Tan Suran soon?
Before entering the venue, Yu Lili made a detour to the restroom to fix her hair and reapply her lipstick.
“Lili, you’re way more energetic for this meeting than work,” Li Mi teased.
“Of course. Getting paid to slack off is the best.”
Aside from the central seats reserved for top executives and magazine heads, seating was open.
Guan Xi had planned to slip toward the back.
Yu Lili: “Let’s sit up front.”
“Who sits at the front during meetings?”
Without missing a beat, Yu Lili said, “If we want to score an account invite, we’d better get noticed.”
Though she waited eagerly, Tan Suran was nowhere to be seen. Editors-in-chief from other magazines trickled in, and by the time the big names were mostly seated, Yu Lili counted only two empty spots in the front row—one directly in front of her and another at an angle where she’d barely be visible.
The one in front of her was clearly more central.
If Tan Suran came, she’d definitely sit there.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, a commotion erupted at the entrance.
A small group entered, flanking a woman in the center—pale-skinned, tall, with striking features and an air of refined elegance.
Dressed in a high-end custom black pearl dress, she resembled a cold, graceful narcissus.
As if sensing something, Tan Suran’s cool gaze swept backward.
Their eyes met.
Yu Lili’s eyes sparkled, her fingers tightening in anticipation.
But with so many people around, reason prevailed over impulse, and she resisted the urge to wave.
Instead, she tried to convey warmth through her gaze.
But Tan Suran’s reaction stung.
Her expression indifferent, she looked at Yu Lili as if she were a stranger—then walked past the empty seat in front of her and took the other one.
Had she not seen her?
Their eyes had met.
So why had she looked at her so coldly…?
Yu Lili was crushed.
As she sighed dejectedly, Tan Suran stepped up to the podium as the opening speaker.
Pouting, Yu Lili looked up, her eyes accusing.
No wonder people called Tan Suran the untouchable flower on the high peak.
She was cold enough to freeze hearts.
Recalling Tan Suran’s earlier gaze—so distant and detached—Yu Lili’s chest ached.
Biting her lip, she stared at Tan Suran with resentment.
Her thoughts drifted.
When she snapped back to attention, the room had fallen silent.
Everyone’s eyes were fixed on the stage.
Tan Suran had stopped speaking.
She pulled out her phone and began typing, right in the middle of her speech.
Though no one dared to comment, the audience’s widened eyes betrayed their shock.
This was peak boss behavior.
“Apologies. I forgot my lines,” Tan Suran said calmly, pocketing her phone. “It’s intimidating, speaking in front of experts.”
A self-deprecating joke lightened the mood.
Polite laughter and applause followed.
At that moment, Yu Lili’s phone screen lit up on the desk.
Her eyes widened slightly as she swiped it open.
The aloof boss at the podium had sent her a message:
[Don’t keep looking at me. It’s distracting.]