The Friend Who Changed My Life

The Secret Matchmaker in My Own Story

We met on a damp Beijing afternoon, the kind where even the pigeons look disgruntled. I was nineteen, running late for a Creative Writing lecture, fumbling with my umbrella, when she materialized beside me like something out of a Zhou Xuanyi film. "Do you always look this disheveled, or is today special?" she said, not unkindly. That was Xiaoyuan. Blunt, captivating, and thoroughly unimpressed by my frazzled student aesthetic.

At the time, my life was all plotted out in carefully marked bullet points: get a degree, write something meaningful, and maybe—if the universe allowed—fall in love like the heroines in the literature my parents adored. But Xiaoyuan had other plans for me. She was the script flip my life didn’t know it desperately needed.

Some People Enter with Drama; She Entered with Dumplings

Where I saw sweeping romantic themes, Xiaoyuan cut straight through my melodrama with plain logic … and snacks. "Yuan, relationships aren’t Tang Dynasty poetry. You don’t need wistful willow trees and moonscapes; you need someone who’ll bring you dumplings at 2 a.m." She said this with a chopstick poised mid-air, effortlessly brilliant and annoyingly wise.

Her practicality was something of a revelation to me, raised as I was on worlds of honor-bound narratives and slow-burn tragedies. To her, romance wasn’t a fever dream; it was made up of mundane, beautiful moments. And yet, for someone so rooted in practicality, she had a flair for shaking things up.

Take, for instance, the time she tricked me into going on my first blind date. “It’s not a date,” she assured me, “it’s networking.” Networking turned out to be code for a horrendously awkward café meetup with her cousin’s roommate, who spent most of the night quoting Game of Thrones. It was mortifying—until Xiaoyuan turned up afterward with hotpot ingredients and an unapologetic grin. “Not every story is a success, but at least you’ve got material. Write that disaster into your next novel.”

Translations of Love: What She Taught Me About Connection

As a former poetry translator, I often saw relationships as riddles to decode—a puzzle of metaphors and cultural subtext. Xiaoyuan taught me that love isn’t meant to be overanalyzed. “It’s not always about finding someone who 'gets' you,” she once told me, perched on my dorm bed eating mala-flavored potato chips. “It’s about finding someone who tries to.” That advice echoed years later when I moved to New York for an exchange program and found myself drawn to someone entirely unexpected.

For reference: I grew up in the world of traditional Chinese opera and moonlit calligraphy, and he grew up quoting obscure Seinfeld episodes. On paper, we made no sense. But Xiaoyuan’s voice rang in my ear: “You want a partner, not a mirror.”

Friendship Goals Worth Copying

Xiaoyuan’s impact went well beyond romantic advice. Here’s what she taught me that I think everyone could use, no matter where they are on their relationship journey:

  • Be Direct, but Kind: Xiaoyuan had a knack for cutting through polite hesitation. “Stop waiting for the 'right' moment,” she’d say. Whether it was a tough conversation or confessing your crush, she believed in honesty over perfection.
  • Laugh at the Ridiculous: Life throws curveballs, and dating throws even weirder ones. The best survival strategy, according to her? Laugh. At yourself, at the awkwardness, at all of it.
  • Celebrate Small Wins: After every breakup, every failed date, Xiaoyuan would find something worth cheering for. “Hey, you went. That’s braver than most people.”

Love Isn’t Always Romantic

Xiaoyuan eventually got tired of Beijing’s pace and left for Shanghai, where she carved out a stunning life for herself as an interior designer—and occasional dumpling critic. Telephone calls became our bread and butter, conversations that stretched over different time zones and life stages. She lived boldly, balancing humor with piercing insight, always making time for the kindness that defines real connection.

She passed away two years ago, too young and too radiantly alive for this world to lose. The grief of her absence still sits heavy, like an unfinished sentence I keep trying to complete. But I carry her lessons with me every day. She was the friend who rewrote my narrative about romance, about connection, about life.

Rewrite Your Own Story

Not everyone has a Xiaoyuan, but here’s the thing—you can be her. You can question your friend’s excuses for avoiding the dating scene, cheer loudly for their brave love stories, and remind them to laugh through the ridiculousness of it all. Acts of friendship, small or grand, are often the unseen scaffolding of our lives.

Whether it’s showing up with dumplings, calling out bad decisions with love, or endorsing the beauty in every failed romance, Xiaoyuan taught me this: There’s a kind of love that changes everything, and it doesn’t need a moonlit bamboo grove to thrive. Sometimes it just needs someone who’s willing to show up for the messy chapters, not just the happy endings.

So, whoever you’re texting at 2 a.m. or meeting for hotpot after a terrible date—my advice is this: Hold on to them. And, occasionally, let them pick the restaurant.