DF Chapter 122

Chapter 122: What’s the Difference?

Song Ji’an returned home from a night shift at the convenience store with a bag of alcohol and encountered Sheng Jia downstairs.

This was their first meeting since Wang Huiqiu’s passing. Sheng Jia was leaning against a car, looking up at the shadows of the trees above, seemingly lost in thought. She didn’t even notice Song Ji’an approaching.

So, Song Ji’an quietly stood a short distance away, observing her.

Jingjiang in September was already slightly chilly. Sheng Jia wore a trench coat, her hair draped over her shoulders, revealing a plain, pale face. The rare look of distraction softened her features, making them less sharp.

The streetlight cast a long shadow of her, which fell right at Song Ji’an’s feet. She lowered her head and stepped on it a couple of times.

“Holding such a grudge against me? You even have to step on my shadow a few times.”

Sheng Jia’s voice, laced with a hint of amusement, came from beside her. Song Ji’an nonchalantly retracted her foot.

“What brings you here?” she asked.

“Just passing by Jingjiang, so I came to find you,” Sheng Jia replied. “I just finished playing mind games with Meng Yeran and the others. I’m exhausted.”

“Is it about the Norway thing?”

“Yes,” Sheng Jia nodded. “Our expectations were a bit off. She still hasn’t agreed to collaborate with Hilda.”

The two fell into silence for a moment.

They stood there wordlessly for a long time before Sheng Jia finally asked, “Aren’t you going to invite me up for a cup of tea?”

“Do you want to go?” Song Ji’an met her gaze. “When you come to find me, is it always with an ulterior motive?”

“When I come to find you, does it always have to be with a purpose?” Sheng Jia retorted. “Can’t it be because I just happened to be passing by, remembered there was a Song Ji’an here who’s been entangled with me since high school, and simply wanted to come chat with her?”

“Is that so?” Song Ji’an raised an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe. But–”

As she spoke, she stepped aside, a smile playing on her lips. “Alright, let’s go up for a cup of tea.”

Sheng Jia followed her for two steps when her stomach let out a loud growl. She paused for a moment before saying, “Have you eaten?”

“No,” Song Ji’an said as she walked towards the elevator. “Let’s eat together.”

This wasn’t Sheng Jia’s first time at Song Ji’an’s apartment. The one-bedroom apartment with a living room and dining area exuded a sense of coldness everywhere. It was clear that its owner hadn’t left many traces of her life here. Even the simplest decorations were scarce. More than a home, this place felt like Song Ji’an’s temporary lodging.

Sheng Jia changed her shoes and sat down. Song Ji’an quickly placed the bag of snacks she had been carrying on the dining table, then took out four packs of instant noodles from the storage cabinet.

“What flavor do you want?” She shook the instant noodles in her hand. “I usually cook two packs. How many do you want?”

“Do you eat instant noodles every day?” Sheng Jia asked, puzzled, a rare hint of confusion in her eyes.

She remembered that Song Ji’an had been very particular about her diet in high school. She was accustomed to healthy eating and even in the school cafeteria, she insisted on a balanced diet. When they went to Norway together, Song Ji’an’s ingrained preferences for food hadn’t changed either. She always chose a variety of rich and healthy foods.

“I don’t have time to cook,” Song Ji’an made a choice for her, taking the four packs of instant noodles into the kitchen. “And cooking makes too much smoke. I don’t want to clean up.”

She boiled water and put it on the stove, steam quickly rising. Song Ji’an didn’t plan to cook them separately, so she simply threw all the instant noodles into the pot.

Sheng Jia got up from the sofa and opened the refrigerator. There were a few eggs inside. She took them out and glanced at the seasonings on the kitchen counter. “How about I stir-fry some eggs?”

“That’s fine too,” Song Ji’an glanced at the pot of instant noodles that had already softened and were emitting a fragrant aroma, and slowly said, “But I’m not very good at stir-frying eggs.”

“I’ll do it,” Sheng Jia rolled up her sleeves.

Song Ji’an didn’t stand on ceremony. She carried the pot, lid and all, of instant noodles to the dining table in the living room. Sheng Jia deftly grabbed a bowl, probably thanks to her experience working part-time when she was younger. Although she couldn’t cook anything fancy, she could easily stir-fry eggs, and even wash the dishes afterwards.

When she came out with the fried eggs, Song Ji’an had already set out the bowls and chopsticks. She used serving chopsticks to scoop some noodles from the pot, saying softly, “Help yourself. I’m not going to entertain you.”

“I won’t stand on ceremony with you,” Sheng Jia said thoughtfully. “But you asked me earlier if I had something to discuss with you, and I remembered that I actually do have something to tell you.”

Song Ji’an: “What is it?”

“When are you going to meet Mom with me?” Sheng Jia asked, looking directly at her.

Song Ji’an’s hand paused. She almost choked on the instant noodles she had just put in her mouth.

She asked, puzzled, “When did I ever agree to that?”

Sheng Jia said with a smile, “I thought the choice you made at Grandma Wang’s memorial service already meant you agreed.”

“That wasn’t–” Song Ji’an lowered her eyes. “That was to fulfill her wish. It doesn’t mean I agreed to anything.”

“Song Ji’an, do you think I went to all this trouble to let you make your own choice, to walk to my and Mom’s side, only to give you the opportunity to back down?” Sheng Jia said slowly.

“Don’t always be so overbearing, thinking you can control everything,” Song Ji’an replied. “That’s just what you think. It doesn’t mean I want to do it.”

“Is that so? You really don’t want to?” Sheng Jia raised an eyebrow. “But Mom wants to. She misses you a lot.”

“But we’ve already met,” Song Ji’an said softly. “Being able to see her that one time, I’m already content…”

“I miss you too.”

Sheng Jia’s words interrupted Song Ji’an’s excuses. She suddenly looked up at her. The fluorescent light above seemed to flicker, and she felt like her vision was going black and white.

“What did you say?”

“I said, I miss you coming home too,” Sheng Jia replied unhurriedly.

“The Song family isn’t my home anymore,” she blinked.

It had been a very, very long time since she had heard the words “coming home” from anyone other than Sheng Huaiying.

Before, when she didn’t know how to get along with Sheng Huaiying, she felt like she didn’t have a home anymore. This room was nothing more than a temporary shelter to escape reality.

But later, she found a way to get along with Sheng Huaiying, and she finally realized that she had a home again.

Sheng Huaiying would ask her, “Ji’an, are you coming home to visit this weekend?”

Gentle, kind, familiar, like a warm breeze brushing against your face, bringing sun-drenched bedding and fragrant meals, bringing the constant clatter of mahjong from downstairs, and the noisy mornings on the street.

In her memory, Sheng Huaiying had turned “coming home” back into a warm word, a word that made you feel like you had another destination just by thinking about it.

But when those two words came out of Sheng Jia’s mouth, they seemed so different.

“Why are you so persistent about making me go back to the Song family?” Song Ji’an said. “Do you know that you always do what you want to do, and never think about whether others are willing or want to do it?”

“That’s a very annoying thing.”

Sheng Jia looked at the noodles in her bowl, didn’t answer her previous question, and only asked, “You really don’t want to?”

Song Ji’an couldn’t answer that question.

“It’s also annoying to force other people to answer whether they want to or not.”

Sheng Jia actually laughed when she heard that. She carefully scrutinized Song Ji’an, “I never thought you would say something like that to me after a few months.”

“If it was the Song Ji’an I had just met, she probably wouldn’t be able to say those words or do those things,”

A Song Ji’an who was dejected and without hope for life would never have reacted to what Sheng Jia had said or done. She would only have desperately wanted to stay away and hide herself so that no one would discover what was really on her mind.

“But you’ve changed now, and you can’t deny that I brought about this change,” Sheng Jia said. She slightly raised her hand, pointing to Song Ji’an’s forehead. “This change is etched in your brain, and every moment it subtly emerges when you talk to me.”

“So what?” Song Ji’an frowned slightly.

“Nothing much, just a little pleased.”

Sheng Jia didn’t bring up the near-argument between them again, and Song Ji’an didn’t seem inclined to speak either. They quietly ate their noodles until the pot was empty.

Outside the window, there was an occasional gust of wind, causing the camphor trees to rustle, as if the little interlude from earlier had passed. Song Ji’an asked as usual, “When are you leaving?”

“Can I not leave?” Sheng Jia looked at the paper bag on the other side of the table, which contained beer, new instant noodles, and some toiletries. “Do you still need alcohol to fall asleep?”

“I don’t have any extra rooms. Yes, I do need to drink a little to help me sleep, but it’s not as serious as you make it out to be,” Song Ji’an replied.

“My flight is tomorrow. If you don’t let me stay, then I guess I’ll have to sleep on the streets tonight,” Sheng Jia said, resting her chin on her hand.

Song Ji’an: …

Song Ji’an put down her chopsticks and said expressionlessly, “Have all the hotels in Jingjiang gone out of business? And there would be a time when a young miss Sheng would have to sleep on the streets?”

“I’ll help you wash the dishes,” Sheng Jia picked up the pot and bowls and walked towards the kitchen.

“There’s still one room you can use,” Song Ji’an’s voice sounded from behind her. “But the bedding in there is probably dusty.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” Sheng Jia asked with a smile.

“Because you’re right. You did bring me some very good changes.”

Song Ji’an couldn’t answer many of Sheng Jia’s questions, and would even argue with her because of it, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t aware that everything Sheng Jia did was beneficial to her. In fact, it could be said that their initial cooperation agreement was more like a pretext for Sheng Jia to get in touch with her. From the beginning to the present, it had actually been Sheng Jia’s unilateral help to her, and she hadn’t returned anything to Sheng Jia.

She couldn’t even face Song Ningqiu right now, let alone help Sheng Jia solve the problems between her and Song Ningqiu.

It was just a request to stay over for one night. It really didn’t matter.

Sheng Jia nodded when she heard that. “If there’s a next time, I hope you’ll agree to this simply because of me as a person.”

Song Ji’an: “What’s the difference?”

Sheng Jia didn’t turn her head, only softly asked, “What do you think?”

But she didn’t really want Song Ji’an to answer. She quickly changed the subject, “How did you think of cooking instant noodles? Based on the level of convenience you want, shouldn’t you just buy a cup and pour hot water?”

“It was Mom, Ms. Sheng taught me,” Song Ji’an said. “I used to just pour hot water, but then she came to visit me once and after finding out, she kept saying that she saw on the internet that instant noodles don’t cook well when you just pour hot water, you have to cook them to make them taste good. She cooked them for me once, and I also thought they tasted better that way, so I’ve been cooking them ever since.”

Sheng Jia put the pots and bowls into the dishwasher, wiped her hands dry, and walked out.

“Then she would never have imagined that you would be cooking instant noodles every day since then, treating them as your staple food.”