Perfect Girlfriends

The Night Before She Leaves

I should have learned to forget—certain people, certain moments.

People like Mo Han.

So I fabricated a reason for myself, a reason to let her go:

“She’s too beautiful.”

It sounded laughably simple, yet it struck precisely where I was weakest.

To me, Mo Han was like a brilliant firework—dazzling for an instant, fragrant in its bloom, but destined never to linger in my life.

As the S-Curve Challenge in Nantong drew near, my schedule grew impossibly packed. I had never been this busy before. Shen Man was just as overwhelmed—these past few days, we practically lived at the office. Out of every twenty-four hours, at least twelve were spent together, heads down, working.

Tomorrow was the official event day. Thanks to the success of the Yangzhou stop, Nantong’s version simply had to replicate the previous model and add a touch of innovation. It sounded easy. It wasn’t. Only by doing it yourself do you learn how tangled and maddening event work can be. Fortunately, Shen Man was there to anchor me. Without her, my inexperience would have turned everything into a disaster.

At eight that night, we each made ourselves a bowl of instant noodles. The office was so quiet that even the sound of chewing seemed amplified. As we ate, we talked through every remaining detail—logistics, props, flow—just like we had every single night since returning from Yangzhou a month ago.

After finishing the simple dinner, we finally found a sliver of breathing room and slipped into casual conversation.

“Shijie, when are you planning to leave Nantong?” I asked.

“As soon as this event ends. Wuxi has already urged me several times.”

I felt a little embarrassed. If it weren’t for helping me, she would have left long ago. The moment Wuxi finalized the offer, she could’ve packed her things and gone—she certainly wouldn’t have dragged her stay this long.

I fell silent. Even though it wasn’t a permanent goodbye, something in my chest tightened. To me, Shen Man was like an older sister—strict to the point of cruelty at times, but I always knew she meant well.

“Why so quiet suddenly?” she asked, smiling.

“Shijie…” My tone softened, hesitant, as though something heavy was lodged in my throat.

She stood, patted my shoulder, and smiled again. Then she picked up two cups, brewed coffee for both of us, and handed one to me.

“After we double-check tomorrow’s flow and the materials list,” she said, “we’ll call it a night.”

I nodded. “Shijie… thank you for everything these past few weeks.”

She blinked, surprised—then burst out laughing.

“Why do those two words sound so wrong coming from you?”

“You just can’t stand hearing me say anything nice. Because you’re used to me being an asshole.”

I expected her to be offended, but instead she wore a helpless smile.

“Meeting you must be a karmic debt from my past life. Only way to explain why I’m being tortured like this in this one.”

I sighed dramatically. “Stop complaining. In a few days, your life will be full of sunshine again.”

She nodded but her expression dimmed.

“Let’s hope my sunshine doesn’t become your darkness.”

I didn’t reply. I prayed she was joking—but deep down, I knew I still wasn’t ready to face everything alone.

Three days later…

The three-day event went smoothly. Not spectacular, but solid—on par with the better city stops. As the crowd gradually dispersed, Shen Man and I let out matching sighs of relief.

In the glow of the setting sun, she suddenly wrapped me in a huge embrace.

“Yixi, I told you—once you put your mind to it, there’s no one you can’t match. You were incredible out there!”

When she finally loosened her arms, I placed my hands lightly on her shoulders and said,

“Shijie, you’re even prettier when you’re complimenting someone.”

She rolled her eyes. “And I never compliment you normally?”

“Heaven knows…”

“That’s because you’re such a pain in the ass,” she said, laughing again. “It’s hard to find anything to praise.”

She was genuinely happy—probably smiling more in this moment than she had in the entire past month combined.

That night, Prince, Wang Mengmeng, and a few other friends invited us to a celebratory dinner.

Shen Man and I gladly went.

I didn’t know why, but ever since Mengmeng and I broke up, I always felt the urge to bolt whenever I saw her. Tonight was no exception. When I entered the private room, she was quietly listening to the others, her round cheeks glowing under the lights. The moment she saw me, two dimples popped out like trapdoors, and she came bouncing over to loop her arm through mine.

I had to whisper, “Mengmeng, we’re already broken up. Maybe… keep some distance?”

She pouted but refused to let go.

I could only sit beside her helplessly as she beamed triumphantly like a mischievous kitten.

“Shijie, please sit,” Prince said, pulling out a chair gallantly.

Shen Man sat beside him with a polite smile. Most people present were friends from our university days—no need for warm-ups; everyone eased into conversation immediately. The topic, unsurprisingly, revolved around Shen Man. Tonight’s gathering was less a celebration and more a farewell for her.

“Shijie, you’re really going to Wuxi? Are you abandoning us?” Prince asked dramatically.

“Hey—don’t make it sound like I’m your mother,” she shot back with a half-smile. “Who’s abandoning who?”

“Exactly!” I chimed in, seizing the chance to tease her. “At most she’s an aunt. She’s only twenty-eight!”

The room fell silent in an instant.

Shen Man’s age was a forbidden topic.

Everyone stared at me gleefully, waiting for the explosion.

“If you don’t mind,” she said coolly, “I can be your mother.”

The table erupted with laughter.

I ignored the threat and said, “Someone please save this hopeless woman. Prince, how about you take one for the team?”

“Save her? If I save her and she marries me, I’d become your dad. Wouldn’t that mess everything up?” Prince said shamelessly.

I regretted having such a friend. I tried to help him, and he shot me from point-blank range.

Before I could retaliate, Mengmeng glared at him.

“If you become Xixi’s dad, how am I supposed to marry him? Do you want me to call you Dad too?”

I felt my soul leaving my body.

These siblings were unbeatable—no shame, no bottom line. A simple joke somehow turned into a complete family-tree catastrophe.

“Ladies and gentlemen—uncles, aunties, grandpas, grandmas—I’ll leave you to your… family meeting.”

I fled the scene under the excuse of going to the bathroom.

“Xixi, I’ll go with you,” Mengmeng chirped, hurrying after me.

Perhaps she really didn’t understand that bathrooms were one of the few things in life still governed by the laws of “men and women should be separate.”