Until My Soul Finds You Again - Chapter 12

Distance is a peculiar thing.

It doesn’t end love overnight.

Instead, it quietly fills the space between two people with silence.

Then doubt.

Then loneliness.

Until one day, they realize they have been hurting without ever meaning to.

After graduating from high school, Chen Mo returned to his hometown.

Su Qingyi left for Shanghai to attend an intensive university entrance program.

Different cities.

Different routines.

Different circles.

Different lives.

And yet, every night before sleeping, they called each other.

No matter how exhausted they were.

No matter how late it became.

Their conversations always began the same way.

“Have you eaten?”

“How was your day?”

“Did you study enough?”

“Did you miss me?”

The questions were ordinary.

But somehow, they became the thread holding their relationship together.

One evening, after returning from classes, Su Qingyi collapsed onto her bed and answered Chen Mo’s call.

“I’m exhausted.”

Her voice barely carried any energy.

“Then go to sleep.”

Chen Mo smiled gently.

“We can talk tomorrow.”

“No.”

She hugged the phone closer.

“Talk to me for a little while.”

“My whole day feels like studying.”

“This is the only time I can breathe.”

He chuckled softly.

“Alright.”

“Tell me about today.”

For the next half hour, she spoke without stopping.

About difficult teachers.

About endless homework.

About crowded subway stations.

About noisy dormitories.

About classmates she had only recently met.

Chen Mo listened quietly.

He enjoyed hearing her voice.

Even when she was only complaining about the weather.

Suddenly, Su Qingyi became unusually quiet.

“Chen Mo.”

“Hm?”

“Do you think distance changes people?”

He thought for a moment.

“People change.”

“Time changes.”

“Life changes.”

“But if two people truly want to stay together…”

“They’ll keep finding their way back.”

Just like we always have.

She laughed softly.

“Sometimes you sound exactly like your grandfather.”

He grinned.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

For a while, everything seemed peaceful.

Then reality slowly caught up with them.

Neither stopped loving the other.

But distance made every small misunderstanding feel larger than it really was.

One afternoon, Chen Mo called.

No answer.

He tried again.

Still nothing.

It wasn’t until late that evening that Su Qingyi finally returned the call.

“My phone was on silent.”

“We were studying in groups.”

“I couldn’t answer.”

Chen Mo nodded even though she couldn’t see him.

“I understand.”

Yet something in his voice felt different.

Su Qingyi noticed immediately.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“You don’t sound convinced.”

He hesitated.

“It just feels like you’re busier these days.”

She sighed.

“The workload here is overwhelming.”

“I’m doing this for our future too.”

“I know.”

He smiled faintly.

“I just miss you.”

For a brief moment, neither spoke.

Then she quietly answered,

“I miss you too.”

But her tired voice carried less warmth than before.

And Chen Mo noticed.

After that, little arguments began appearing.

Never about anything important.

Only tiny things.

You forgot to call.

You replied too late.

You sound distant.

You don’t understand.

You’ve changed.

No, you’ve changed.

The same conversations repeated over and over.

Until neither remembered where they had started.

One evening, while scrolling through social media, Chen Mo came across a photograph.

Su Qingyi stood surrounded by classmates from her coaching center.

Several boys.

Several girls.

Everyone smiling.

His eyes lingered on the image.

Then he called her.

“You look happy.”

She laughed lightly.

“It was just a picture.”

“You never mentioned these friends.”

“I’m mentioning them now.”

“They’re only classmates.”

He remained quiet.

“There was one boy standing very close to you.”

Su Qingyi immediately understood.

She rubbed her forehead.

“Seriously?”

“You still don’t trust me?”

“I trust you.”

His answer came instantly.

“I just don’t trust the world.”

Her frustration slowly surfaced.

“I’m already exhausted every day.”

“I don’t want to argue every night too.”

“I’m not arguing.”

His voice became softer.

“I’m only afraid of losing you.”

The sentence instantly dissolved her anger.

For several seconds, all she could hear was his breathing through the phone.

Finally, she whispered,

“You won’t lose me.”

Unfortunately…

Distance often magnifies fear far more than promises.

As weeks passed, their conversations became shorter.

The hour-long phone calls disappeared.

They were replaced by simple messages.

Good morning.

Have a good class.

Don’t skip meals.

Good night.

Neither wanted this.

Yet neither knew how to stop it.

Then one evening, everything finally erupted.

“I feel like I don’t matter to you anymore.”

Chen Mo’s voice was unusually calm.

“That’s not true.”

Su Qingyi answered immediately.

“Then why does it feel that way?”

“Because you’re overthinking everything.”

“I’m working this hard for my future.”

“For our future.”

He closed his eyes.

“And I’m here…”

“Missing you every single day.”

“I miss you too.”

“But you’re slowly learning how to live without me.”

The words struck her harder than she expected.

Her emotions finally overflowed.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Quit studying?”

“Throw away my dreams?”

“Spend every minute talking on the phone?”

“I never asked for that.”

“But that’s how you make me feel.”

Silence filled the call.

Neither knew how to step back.

Then, carried away by frustration, Su Qingyi said the words she regretted the instant they left her lips.

“Maybe…”

“We should spend some time apart.”

The world became quiet.

After several seconds, Chen Mo finally replied.

“Alright.”

The call ended.

Sometimes relationships don’t break because love disappears.

Sometimes they break because timing, distance, and pride quietly stand in the middle.

Days passed.

No calls.

No messages.

No good mornings.

No good nights.

Only silence.

Just like before.

Except this time, the distance wasn’t measured in kilometers.

It existed between their hearts.

One evening, Chen Mo sat outside with his grandfather beneath the old persimmon tree.

After watching him for a long while, the old man finally asked,

“What troubles you?”

“Nothing.”

His grandfather smiled knowingly.

“When something is truly precious…”

“Don’t lose it because of pride.”

“Pride is expensive.”

“Sometimes it costs you the people you love the most.”

Chen Mo didn’t respond.

But every word settled deeply into his heart.

That same night, hundreds of kilometers away in Shanghai, Su Qingyi sat alone beside her dormitory window.

She opened old photographs.

Old voice messages.

Old conversations.

Every memory still carried his warmth.

Tears slowly blurred her vision.

She hugged her phone and whispered into the darkness,

“Why is loving you so easy…”

“But being away from you so difficult?”

Two people.

Two cities.

The same sleepless night.

The same unspoken love.

The same unbearable silence.

Neither knew who would make the first move.

Neither realized that fate had already begun moving their paths toward each other once again.