Song Cong hadn’t figured out how to reply to this message, but he knew Qi Qi must be waiting for his response. Delaying would do neither of them any good, so he typed out a line: “I respect your decision.”

Send.

He looked up to find his friends staring at him intently. He waved his phone, saying, “An amicable breakup. No fighting, no blocking. Ask whatever you want.”

Yuan Er and Xi Chi exchanged glances, both tacitly maintaining their silence.

It seemed there wasn’t much to ask.

Though surprising, and certainly concerning, when pieced together with hints from the past, this breakup suddenly made perfect sense.

If fondness isn’t enough to make someone change for another person, then that fondness becomes nothing but empty joy. How many people in this world are naturally compatible from birth? Isn’t it more about you changing a bit, and me changing a bit, until we find a rhythm that’s comfortable for you and reassuring for me? But Song Cong and Qi Qi – were both so focused on whether they were equal in this relationship that they overlooked why the other person was trying so hard to catch up until eventually their pure and passionate fondness was drowned by physical and mental exhaustion.

Song Cong wanted to do something to show he could calmly accept this outcome, but he quickly realized that whatever he did seemed like a cover-up – like how he started bouncing his leg, asked what they would eat for dinner, went to the fridge to find a bottle of Yakult, then returned to the sofa drinking it, smiling at Yuan Er’s scrutiny saying, “It tastes good.”

“Tastes good, huh? It expired several days ago,” Yuan Er suddenly interjected.

This was her house, of course, she knew everything about it.

Song Cong admitted defeat, unable to think of a better way to express his indifference.

“I should head back,” Song Cong grabbed his coat, ready to leave.

“Don’t,” Jing Xi Chi quickly stopped him, “Auntie Hao isn’t even home, what would you do there?”

Song Cong would never do anything rash, but breaking up during the joyous Spring Festival season – having company was always better than processing it alone.

Yuan Er rose slowly like a stern judge; in situations like this where everyone was at a loss, staring at each other, naturally it fell to her, the clever one, to take charge. Besides, when it came to fighting heartbreak, she had practical experience.

“Well, Song Cong,” Yuan Er cleared her throat, “let us treat you to a perm.”

“Huh?” The person in question thought he had misheard.

“Yes, a perm.” Yuan Er put on her down jacket while pushing him towards the door, “You don’t have an uncle anyway, so you can style your head however you want.”

Jing Xi Chi burst out laughing. The old saying goes that cutting hair in the first month makes one think of the past – this girl had even found a folk custom justification.

There was none of that miscellaneous stuff – they just wanted to do something to distract him.

Jing Xi Chi followed behind them, pretending to complain, “If you’re treating, why bring me along?”

“A perm plus dye is quite expensive,” Yuan Er glanced at him, “Everyone present gets a share.”

Song Cong understood their intentions and smiled quietly without saying anything.

Because this feeling wasn’t unfamiliar – it often appeared with warmth and strength in every confused and lost moment – how wonderful it is to have friends.

To show their sincerity, Yuan Er took them to the headquarters of a chain salon in the city center. It was a two-story commercial building, with the bottom floor for hair styling. The left side had two rows extending to the back with over twenty seats, while other areas were designed with 360-degree surrounding mirrors for customers who came together, arranged like bundles of grain in a wheat field. The second floor was for beauty and skincare services, where a young woman in a pink uniform was leading customers up the spiral staircase, polite and smiling.

The two rough guys had never seen such grandeur. Jing Xi Chi quietly asked Yuan Er, “How do you know this place?”

“Qi…” Yuan Er was about to say, but catching sight of Song Cong in front, she leaned close to his ear instead, “Qi Qi brought me here before.”

Jing Xi Chi opened his mouth – her hanging out with Qi Qi must have been years ago, and back then they didn’t even have the concept that getting a haircut could be beauty care.

“Though they’ve renovated since then,” Yuan Er looked around, “Miscalculated.”

Song Cong was already being welcomed by an enthusiastic reception guy to get his hair washed. He turned back to ask them, “What are you whispering about?”

Jing Xi Chi pretended to sigh, “Discussing writing an IOU to pay for your perm.”

There weren’t many customers in the store. While Song Cong was getting his hair washed, a staff member came over to ask what they’d like to drink. Yuan Er ordered two fresh-squeezed orange juices, then sat with Jing Xi Chi on a corner sofa to wait. They talked about their classmates’ recent situations: Hui Xin had been hired by a pharmaceutical company in Guangzhou and would leave after the New Year; Qiu Li had received a finance offer from an American business school but was still waiting for other results; Huang Lu was preparing for spring recruitment to enter the internet industry; Du Man, graduating a year later, had already started preparing for graduate school entrance exams and was reportedly stressed to baldness; as for Liao Xin Yan…

Yuan Er’s phone rang. After checking the message, she grinned at Jing Xi Chi, “Speak of the devil.”

“Hmm?”

Yuan Er put away her phone, unconsciously turning to look in Song Cong’s direction as she said, “Xin Yan.”

She hadn’t noticed at all that the girl bringing orange juice was staring at her.

The tray was placed on the coffee table, and the girl in the pink uniform suddenly grabbed her hand, “Oh my god, I can’t believe I’m seeing you here.”

Yuan Er looked up to meet her eyes, then pulled her hand away and smiled at her, “You’ve got the wrong person.”

Jing Xi Chi asked at this moment, “What did you just say?”

“Oh, Xin Yan,” Yuan Er pointed at her phone, “messaged asking if they broke up.”

“How does she know?”

“Says she happened to call Qi to ask when they’re returning to school, and Qi was crying terribly.” Yuan Er sighed, “Do you think they still have a chance?”

Jing Xi Chi was about to speak but noticed the orange juice girl still standing there, so he tentatively asked, “Do we… need to pay first?”

That was the only reason he could think of, after all, it was his first time in such a high-end establishment.

Yuan Er looked over too, feeling that the way she looked at her… wasn’t quite right.

It seemed to carry a hint of resentment.

The girl said “Enjoy” with a stern face and turned to leave.

Strange.

Jing Xi Chi continued their previous topic, “With Old Song’s temperament and pride higher than the sky, and Qi Qi being such a princess in many ways, what do you think? Though the class monitor has good judgment, knowing to come ask you…”

Class monitor. Yuan Er’s heart suddenly jolted at these two words.

In a flash, she remembered her reason for voting for Liao Xin Yan during the class monitor election.

“Oh no.” Yuan Er slapped her forehead.

She couldn’t find Liao Xin Yan from Si Shui – the salon guy told her that little Liao had just gone down to receive customers and should be busy now. Yuan Er could only sheepishly return to her seat.

“What’s wrong?” Jing Xi Chi was puzzled.

“That just now was my middle school classmate, also called Liao Xin Yan.” Yuan Er felt extremely frustrated, “She must think I recognized her but still said she had the wrong person, and what we were saying… ah, I’d be uncomfortable too if I were her.”

The changes were too great – Yuan Er’s impression was still stuck on the twelve or thirteen-year-old wearing baggy uniforms with thick bangs. Today’s Miss Liao was completely different from back then. When “Xin Yan” was called out, she must have been so happy – an old classmate recognizing her at a glance, especially one who had moved away early to live in a big city. Yuan Er could understand her disappointment and resentment when leaving because it seemed like her words and reactions had drawn a clear divide – today our relationship is that of service staff and customer, nothing more.

How aggravating could it be?

“Don’t think about it, go comfort Old Song.” Jing Xi Chi patted her shoulder, “I’m going to the restroom.”

Yuan Er nodded absent-mindedly, dragging her feet to Song Cong’s side.

Jing Xi Chi made a show of heading to the bathroom door, saw Yuan Er chatting with Song Cong from afar, and then turned to go upstairs.

Unlike the open space downstairs, here the corridors on both sides were divided into several independent beauty rooms, each with hanging curtains covering the entrance. The waiting area had only two sofas, with a desk displaying service counter signs opposite, the seat unoccupied.

Just as Jing Xi Chi stood there, little Liao came out of a room marked “Workroom” with a towel over one arm. Seeing him, she paused slightly, then asked very professionally, “Do you have an appointment?”

“I came with Yuan Er.” Jing Xi Chi skipped other self-introductions, “Are you busy?”

Little Liao’s hand was still on the doorknob. She hesitated briefly before closing the door and walking over, “Not really.”

“Yuan Er wanted to come up earlier, but the colleague downstairs said you had customers and she was afraid of disturbing you.” Jing Xi Chi pressed his lips together, “We happened to be talking about another friend called Xin Yan, she didn’t recognize you at the time, absolutely no other meaning.”

A very brief explanation, but little Liao understood.

She lowered her eyes, “It’s normal, we haven’t seen each other for many years, everyone’s changed a lot.”

“Yuan Er often mentions her days in Si Shui, that period was very important to her.” Jing Xi Chi smiled, “She says you must be angry.”

“How could I be,” little Liao blushed, “I’m not angry, just… I thought she didn’t want to acknowledge us old classmates.”

“Xin Yan,” a middle-aged woman in uniform called out as she came down the corridor. Seeing Jing Xi Chi, she smiled politely first, then asked, “A customer?”

“Oh, no…” Little Liao was about to speak but was interrupted by Jing Xi Chi, who pointed at her, “Yes, a friend knows Xin Yan, I came to consult.”

“Your customer then.” The middle-aged woman nodded, taking the towel from her hand, “You receive them, I’ll go over first.”

Once she left, Jing Xi Chi quickly asked, “What services do you offer here? I’m looking at getting something for my mom.”

Little Liao hesitantly took out a service menu from the reception desk drawer, looking at him with partial understanding.

Jing Xi Chi glanced at it then put it down, “Under fifty, something that would make her feel prettier and beneficial for health, what do you think is good?”

The terms on the service menu were all in Chinese characters, but when put together he didn’t recognize half of them.

Little Liao selected a few to explain briefly. When he heard “aunties generally like this one,” Jing Xi Chi’s eyes lit up, “That’s it!”

“This package now has a buy-ten-get-one-free deal, quite suitable.”

“All right.” Jing Xi Chi nodded, then added, “Two aunties, let’s get two cards.”

“One for Yuan Er’s mom?” Little Liao had figured it out long ago – sneaking up here to explain, actively contributing business to her, the relationship wasn’t just “came together.”

“Right,” Jing Xi Chi didn’t deny it, “They can come as companions.”

“You’re Yuan Er’s…” Little Liao smiled, “Boyfriend? Husband?”

Jing Xi Chi was beaming inside but waved it off casually, “Hey, just a matter of time.”

The entrepreneurship competition prize money would be about enough for Song Cong’s perm and beauty treatments for two moms – his first time spending money entirely on what mattered.

Wonderful.

After more than three hours of careful styling by the hairdresser, Song Cong transformed from a proper Republican-era male student to a fashionable young man with a head of chestnut-colored curls.

Jing Xi Chi stroked his new hair like petting a son, sighing like an old father, “Looking good.”

“Don’t touch,” Yuan Er swatted his hand away, “You’re touching money.”

Song Cong found it funny too – treating someone to dinner, drinks, or clubbing to console them after a breakup was one thing, but treating them to a perm must be a world first.

Emotions indeed need an outlet, but it doesn’t necessarily have to be hysterical venting. Having good friends by your side doing whatever somehow makes your heart inexplicably brighter.

As they were leaving, little Liao hurriedly ran out after them, holding up her hands covered in essential oils like a surgeon about to start an operation. She called out to Yuan Er, “What are you doing now?”

“Still studying.” Yuan Er looked at her, her expression carrying some apology, “Xin Yan, just now I…”

After being told three times that little Liao was busy, she decided to keep her apology in her heart.

“That’s good, you were always good at studying.” Little Liao looked at Jing Xi Chi, saw him shake his head slightly, and smiled faintly, “Yuan Er, call me when you get married.”

This surprised Yuan Er – marriage? Is this how people greet each other now?

A voice came from the store, “Xin Yan comes up quick, the customer is waiting!”

“Coming!” Little Liao responded loudly, walking inside while turning back, “Remember to call me!”

The three walked forward shoulder to shoulder for a few steps. The more Yuan Er thought about it, the stranger it seemed, “Did she mistake me for some other Chen Yuan Er who’s getting married? Mission Impossible today?”

“Is that possible? With your name.” Song Cong glanced at Jing Xi Chi, “Though someone might be making secret moves.”

Yuan Er didn’t catch his little gesture, but Song Cong read it all.

No need to guess what happened.

Jing Xi Chi quickly interrupted, “Just call her then, one more person means one more gift money.”

“Huh,” Yuan Er rolled her eyes, “As if the money would end up in your pocket.”

“It will.” Jing Xi Chi turned his head and muttered quietly, unable to hold back his smile.