Until My Soul Finds You Again - Chapter 13

Night is the loneliest time for people who are in love.

During the day, there are classes to attend.

People to meet.

Work to finish.

Laughter to hide behind.

But once the lights go out and the world falls quiet, there is nothing left to distract the heart.

Only memories.

Nearly three weeks had passed since Chen Mo and Su Qingyi stopped speaking.

No phone calls.

No messages.

No updates about each other’s lives.

Yet every morning after waking up and every night before sleeping, they still glanced at their phones.

Secretly hoping to see the other’s name appear.

Pride is a strange thing.

Sometimes all it takes to fix everything is a single phone call.

Yet pride convinces you to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

That night, at exactly 2:07 a.m., Su Qingyi sat alone on the floor of her dormitory room in Shanghai.

Her textbooks lay open around her.

But she hadn’t read a single page.

Instead, she stared at an old photograph.

It had been taken years ago beside West Lake.

A rainy afternoon.

One umbrella.

Two smiling faces.

Before she realized it, a tear landed on the screen.

She gently traced the picture with her fingertip.

“I miss you, idiot.”

For the first time in three weeks, she pressed the call button.

Hundreds of kilometers away, Chen Mo was already asleep.

The vibration of his phone slowly pulled him awake.

Half-conscious, he reached toward the bedside table.

Then his eyes widened.

Su Qingyi Calling

For several seconds, he simply stared at the screen.

His heartbeat echoed through the silent room.

Finally, he answered.

“Hello?”

No reply came immediately.

Only quiet breathing.

Then, almost in a whisper—

“Did I wake you?”

He slowly sat upright.

“No.”

“I was just sleeping.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He tightened his grip on the phone.

“Are you alright?”

Silence.

Then a single word.

“No.”

That one answer told him everything.

“What happened?”

Su Qingyi’s voice trembled.

“I don’t know.”

“I tried to focus on studying.”

“I tried to stay busy.”

“I tried to convince myself this was for the best.”

“But…”

Her breathing became uneven.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Chen Mo lowered his head.

“Do what?”

“This.”

“This life where we pretend the other person doesn’t exist.”

Her tears quietly spilled over.

“I miss talking to you.”

“I miss telling you about my day.”

“I miss hearing you complain about your homework.”

“I miss us.”

For a long moment, Chen Mo remained silent.

Then he admitted softly,

“I thought you wanted distance.”

“I wanted distance from our arguments.”

She laughed bitterly through her tears.

“Not from you.”

The room became quiet again.

Neither knew what to say.

Yet neither wanted to end the call.

Finally, Su Qingyi whispered,

“Every day I meet new people.”

“I attend classes.”

“I laugh.”

“I smile.”

“But every night…”

“The first person I want to tell everything to is still you.”

“And then I remember we’re strangers again.”

Chen Mo slowly closed his eyes.

His own voice became hoarse.

“I tried too.”

“For these past three weeks.”

“I really tried.”

“But every time something happened…”

“I reached for my phone.”

“And every single time, I remembered we weren’t talking anymore.”

Neither spoke.

Because neither needed to.

The silence itself carried every answer.

After a while, Su Qingyi quietly asked,

“Chen Mo…”

“Are we really over?”

He looked around the dark room.

Memories surfaced one after another.

The nervous self-introduction in high school.

The shared umbrella.

The library.

The little hill overlooking West Lake.

Their first breakup.

Their reunion.

The message she had written on his graduation uniform.

You are my peace.

A faint smile appeared on his face.

Then he answered honestly.

“I don’t know how to stop loving you.”

“I’ve tried.”

“But I failed.”

Every single day.

Without exception.

Tears rolled silently down Su Qingyi’s cheeks.

“So what should we do now?”

Chen Mo thought carefully before speaking.

Then he said something that neither of them had understood when they were younger.

“Love isn’t our problem.”

“Distance isn’t our problem.”

“Our fear is.”

“Our pride is.”

“Our habit of running away is.”

She listened quietly.

“We can’t keep loving each other like children.”

She frowned slightly.

“What does that mean?”

“It means we’ll both chase our dreams.”

“We’ll both become busy.”

“We’ll argue.”

“We’ll misunderstand each other.”

“There will be days when we barely have time to talk.”

“But no matter what happens…”

“We don’t leave.”

“No more disappearing.”

“No more breakups.”

“If we’re angry, we talk.”

“If we’re hurt, we fix it.”

“If we fight, we stay.”

“Like partners.”

“Not strangers.”

For a long while, Su Qingyi didn’t answer.

When she finally spoke again, her voice was unusually soft.

“I’m scared.”

“Of what?”

“I’m scared life will take you away from me.”

Chen Mo looked toward the faint moonlight outside his window.

“Life can take many things.”

“It can take time.”

“It can take distance.”

“It can even change people.”

“But it can’t erase the memories we’ve already made.”

“So instead of fearing tomorrow…”

“Let’s create enough memories that even if fate separates us one day…”

“We’ll have a lifetime worth remembering.”

Su Qingyi laughed while crying.

“You always say things that make it impossible to leave you.”

Chen Mo smiled.

“Then don’t leave.”

She closed her eyes.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They remained on the phone until nearly dawn.

For hours, they talked about ordinary things.

Their classes.

Their meals.

People they had met.

Their old school memories.

The little house they once dreamed about.

The two horses.

The cows Su Qingyi insisted they would someday own.

Just before hanging up, she yawned softly.

“We should sleep.”

“Yeah.”

After a brief pause, she called his name again.

“Chen Mo.”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He smiled into the darkness.

His answer came without hesitation.

“I never stopped.”

After that night, they didn’t suddenly become perfect.

They still argued.

They still misunderstood each other.

Life still became busy.

But one thing changed forever.

They stopped walking away.

Because they had finally learned the most important lesson of all.

Love isn’t measured by how rarely two people fight.

It’s measured by whether they choose to stay after the fight is over.

As dawn slowly rose above two different cities, Chen Mo and Su Qingyi finally fell asleep.

The distance between them remained.

The challenges ahead remained.

The future was still uncertain.

But for the first time in weeks, they no longer stood on opposite sides.

Now—

They stood side by side.

Facing the world together.