Huayu: Starting with Hextech

After returning from Hong Kong, Tang Yan has been locking herself in her home.

Her agent called to inquire about her upcoming work schedule, but she only said she wanted to "rest for a few days" before hanging up.

The living room curtains were drawn, making the room dimly lit.

The TV was on, but there was no sound. A rerun of a variety show was playing on the screen, and the people on the screen were laughing and joking, but they were separated from her by a cold screen.

On the coffee table was a photo of her and Lin Xiao—taken last year in Hengdian. She leaned on his shoulder, smiling with her eyes crinkling, while he had his arm around her waist, his eyes tender.

The photo was carefully framed, and the glass was spotless, but looking at it now, the two people in the photo seemed like strangers from a past life.

My phone vibrated.

It's a message notification from the "85 Three Beauties" group.

This group was created last year when "Chinese Paladin 3" was a hit, and it only had three members: her, Yang Mi, and Liu Shishi.

At first, they would chat in the group every day, sharing interesting things in their lives, complaining about work pressure, and making plans to eat and go shopping.

How wonderful those days were! Three young girls who had just begun to make their mark in the entertainment industry thought their friendship would last forever, and that they would always be each other's best friends.

When did it start to change?

Tang Yan opened the group chat.

The latest message was posted by Yang Mi yesterday afternoon. She forwarded an invitation to a fashion event and asked if they wanted to go together.

Liu Shishi replied, "I'm busy lately and can't go."

She was on the plane at the time and didn't see it. By the time she saw it, it was too late to reply—the subtle, cold atmosphere in the group chat left her unsure how to respond.

Scrolling up further, there was a message she posted in the group chat after visiting the set in Hengdian: "Sisters, I've wrapped up filming! I'm finally free from this lousy film crew!"

Yang Mi replied: "Congratulations, Tangtang! Come to Hengdian, I'll treat you to a big meal!"

Liu Shishi replied: "Congratulations."

The two "Congratulations" messages have completely different tones.

Yang Mi's enthusiasm, Liu Shishi's indifference.

Tang Yan stared at the screen, her fingers hovering over the keyboard.

She wanted to say something to break the suffocating silence. She wanted to say, "It's been so long since we got together," "How have you been lately?" and "I miss you all."

But in the end, she opened her phone's photo album and found a picture.

That was taken during the promotional period for "Chinese Paladin 3" last year.

Three girls in costumes huddled together in the dressing room on set for a selfie. She stood in the middle, with one arm around Yang Mi and the other around Liu Shishi. All three of them were laughing carefree, their eyes shining.

They were so young back then.

So young that you thought friendship was unbreakable, that the person you liked would like you back forever, and that everything would go according to your expectations.

Tang Yan stared at the photo for a long time before clicking send.

The photo appeared in the group chat.

The following sentence followed:

"We'll always be best friends, right?"

send.

The time displayed is 3:17 PM.

Then, she put down her phone, stared at the screen, and waited for a reply.

One minute.

Two minutes.

five minutes.

ten minutes.

The group was completely silent.

The photo of the three of them lay quietly at the bottom of the chat interface, like a stone thrown into a deep pool, without even a ripple.

Yang Mi did not reply.

Liu Shishi did not reply.

They all saw it—Tang Yan could see the "read" mark next to the message.

Yang Mi saw it at 3:20, and Liu Shishi saw it at 3:25.

But no one spoke.

That silence is more hurtful than any harsh words.

Tang Yan stared at the "read" mark and the empty reply area, feeling as if an invisible hand was squeezing her heart, making it almost impossible for her to breathe.

It turns out that some things don't need to be said.

Silence itself is the answer.

She put down her phone and buried her face in her knees.

I didn't cry, I just felt tired.

I was so tired that I couldn't even shed a tear.

In Yang Mi's studio in Beijing.

While her agent was reporting on the upcoming schedule, Yang Mi was absentmindedly staring at her phone screen.

That photo of the three of them stung her eyes.

In the photo, the three girls are smiling so brightly and so innocently.

They were really close back then, and they genuinely believed they could be best friends forever.

But now?

She fell in love with Lin Xiao.

Liu Shishi also fell in love with Lin Xiao.

Tang Yan... is Lin Xiao's official girlfriend.

What an ironic love triangle.

Yang Mi's fingers hovered over the keyboard.

She wanted to say something back.

Reply with "Of course", reply with "Always", or reply with a smiley face emoji.

But she couldn't type it.

Because that's not the truth.

She could no longer treat Tang Yan as a close friend without any reservations, just like before.

As long as Lin Xiao is still between them, as long as her feelings for Lin Xiao remain, she cannot do it.

Moreover, she knew that Liu Shishi couldn't do it either.

What would the girl who confessed to him in the coffee shop yesterday, "I like Lin Xiao," feel if she saw this photo now?

Guilt? Struggle? Or... indifference?

Yang Mi didn't know.

All she knew was that she couldn't reply.

Let this message remain silently there.

Just like the broken friendship between the three of them, which no one dares to break.

In Liu Shishi's apartment, the curtains were drawn.

She sat on the floor, leaning against the sofa, holding her phone with a photo of the three of them on the screen.

I look so happy in the photo.

At that time, she was just a newcomer who had just debuted, full of curiosity and longing for the entertainment industry.

At that time, she didn't know Lin Xiao, or rather, she knew him but wasn't familiar with him.

Back then, she could stand calmly beside Tang Yan, put her arm around her shoulder, and laugh without any burden.

But now...

She fell in love with someone she shouldn't have.

That person was her best friend's boyfriend.

This realization was like a thorn stuck in her heart, causing her pain with every breath she took.

Liu Shishi stared at the photo, tears silently streaming down her face.

She recalled her conversation with Yang Mi yesterday, Yang Mi's question, "Are you going to tell Tang Yan?", and her own answer, "No."

When she said "no," it was because she genuinely didn't want to hurt Tang Yan.

But now, looking at this photo and at Tang Yan's words, "We'll always be best friends, right?", she suddenly felt ridiculously hypocritical.

Does not telling someone mean it's not harmful?

Does concealing something mean it's not betrayal?

Liu Shishi, while saying "we are best friends," was actually eyeing her best friend's boyfriend.

What kind of best friend is this?

The phone screen went dark.

Liu Shishi did not light up.

She sat there on the floor in the dim light, letting tears stream down her face.

She wanted to reply to Tang Yan and say, "Yes, we'll always be best friends."

But she couldn't bring herself to say it.

Because of that statement, even she herself no longer believed it.

Shanghai, dusk.

Tang Yan finally stood up from the sofa and drew back the curtains.

The sunlight streaming in made her squint.

Outside the window is the bustling metropolis of Shanghai, with its constant flow of traffic and people.

This world is so big, and everyone is busy with their own lives. No one cares that on this ordinary afternoon, the friendship of three girls died silently because of a man.

She picked up her phone and took one last look at the group chat.

The group photo is still there.

That phrase, "We'll always be best friends, right?" is still there.

The reply section below remains empty.

She left the group chat, turned off her phone, and went into the bathroom.

The reflection in the mirror showed a pale face and swollen, red eyes, like a lost soul.

She turned on the tap and splashed her face with cold water.

When I looked up, water droplets slid down my cheeks; I couldn't tell if it was tap water or tears.

"Tang Yan," she said to herself in the mirror, "it's time to wake up."

Some things, once lost, are lost forever.

You can't force it, and you can't undo it.

Just like the smiles in that group photo, they're forever frozen in time from last year.

But this year, they are no longer the same people they were last year.

The steam rising from the bathroom blurred the face in the mirror.

It also blurred those past times that can never be returned to.

Late at night.

Three cities, three rooms, three women.

No one opened that group again.

That group photo and those words, like a silent tombstone, buried their once unbreakable friendship.

Beneath the tombstone lie three hearts broken because of the same man.

And an ending that was destined to be imperfect.