Jiang Bomu, the Lesbian Dream Girl.
This wasn’t some title Gu Yu made up; it was unanimously agreed upon by thousands of netizens. Every time people discussed the ultimate Lesbian Dream Girls, Jiang Bomu was invariably on the list, firmly seated in the top three.
The most crucial reason was the line Jiang Bomu said to the other female lead in the film “Midsummer Youth”—And even if something does happen, it’s okay. I’ll support you.
Gu Yu rewatched it every year, that line memorized perfectly. She felt dazed, almost believing she was within the drama itself.
The burning gaze, the resolute words—just like this moment, utterly heart-stirring.
Gu Yu was still pondering why she suddenly said that line, so naturally, she didn’t notice Jiang Bomu also freeze momentarily, her gaze turning towards the window. The flickering light cast a shadow, rendering her expression unreadable.
The oil in the pan crackled and popped. Snapping out of it, Jiang Bomu hurriedly tossed in the chopped tomatoes.
Perhaps the oil temperature was too high, as a splash of oil burst upwards. She quickly stepped back, the droplets landing on the countertop—a glaring, messy yellow stain.
“Are you okay?” Startled, Gu Yu hurried forward to inspect her hand. “Did you get burned?”
Jiang Bomu curled her fingertips slightly, but didn’t pull away, letting her look.
“Thank goodness, thank goodness.” Gu Yu breathed a sigh of relief but didn’t let go of her hand, continuing to hold it.
Jiang Bomu pressed her lips together slightly. After a moment’s hesitation, she gently withdrew her hand and, as if to cover the motion, picked up the silicone spatula to stir-fry the tomatoes.
Gu Yu lowered her hand as if nothing had happened, but inwardly she was celebrating. Today she’d touched her hand again!
After dinner, the two went out for a walk.
Gu Yu’s snacks were almost finished; it was time to restock. She suggested heading to the supermarket.
It was already half past seven. The streets were empty of hurried office workers, leaving only leisurely elderly men and women, gathered in twos and threes, either watching their grandchildren or strolling idly.
Occasionally, teenagers on bicycles whizzed past. Gu Yu couldn’t help taking a glance each time, sighing, “I can’t believe I’m about to be a junior already.”
Youth, ah, it passes in the blink of an eye.
Hearing the melancholy in her tone, Jiang Bomu glanced at her lightly and said flatly, “You’re clearly in the prime of your youth.”
“High school youth and college youth are different,” Gu Yu couldn’t help retorting. “I still prefer high school. If I could travel through time and space, I’d go back to relive those three years without hesitation.”
Jiang Bomu was puzzled: “What’s so good about high school?”
“Of course it’s good! Studying and playing together with classmates, tense yet relaxed. There’ll never be days like that again.” Gu Yu answered immediately.
Wanting to understand Jiang Bomu’s past, she asked, “Did you like high school?”
Jiang Bomu gazed at the supermarket, now within sight, and cast her mind back to that distant girlhood.
Mountains of books and test papers, heavy like a great mountain, suffocatingly oppressive. Those were clearly days without a sliver of light. Just thinking about them for a moment more deepened the gloom in her heart by a fraction.
“I didn’t like it,” she spoke quietly. “I only like looking forward.”
She didn’t want to experience a single day before the age of twenty ever again.
Chatting, the two entered the supermarket.
The bright white lights were as dazzling as torches. Jiang Bomu instinctively closed her eyes briefly; when they reopened, they were clear once more.
Gu Yu spent ten minutes gathering the snacks she wanted. Just as she was about to head to the checkout, Jiang Bomu suggested, “Let’s wander a bit more.”
So they bought some more fruit. The vegetables in the fridge were enough for two days; no urgent need to restock.
Pushing the shopping cart forward, Gu Yu’s phone suddenly vibrated twice. She glanced at it—a message from her university dorm group chat. While replying, she kept an eye on Jiang Bomu’s movements, her gaze no longer on the neatly arranged shelves.
Jiang Bomu lingered in the toiletries section, her eyes drifting over rows of exquisitely packaged items. She wanted to say something, but seeing Gu Yu focused on her phone, she opened her mouth and ultimately said nothing.
Next time. She would definitely ask next time.
Leaving the supermarket, Gu Yu also ended her idle chatter with her roommates. Smiling brightly, she turned off her phone and carried the lightweight shopping bag home.
On the way, she picked up the earlier topic: “Sister, do you have any regrets from your youth?”
“Which timeframe are you referring to as ‘youth’?”
“Mm…” This question stumped Gu Yu. She thought for a moment before answering, “Before graduating from university.”
“Of course I do,” Jiang Bomu’s gaze drifted towards the streetlight at the intersection. “Youth without regrets isn’t complete.”
Gu Yu bit her lip slightly. So she had someone she liked before? A man or a woman?
Pity she couldn’t ask further.
But Jiang Bomu spoke up: “Xunxun, have you fallen for someone?”
Gu Yu nodded gently. Yes, right in front of her.
Bathed in the evening breeze, she mustered her courage to confess her feelings: “I’ve liked her since I was sixteen.”
“Secretly loving for so many years…” Jiang Bomu was somewhat surprised. “You never thought about confessing?”
Gu Yu opened her mouth but said nothing.
Jiang Bomu didn’t press further. She said softly, “Hiding it deep in your heart is fine too.”
Her words were gentle, like an understanding older sister consoling a child. Gu Yu didn’t want her to see her that way. She turned her face to look at her, her expression resolute: “I will.”
The woman turned her head, puzzled: “What?”
“Sister, I will confess my feelings.”
When I can stand shoulder-to-shoulder with you.
Meeting at the summit.
Back home, Gu Yu turned this conversation into a comic. She exported, saved, and posted it on Weibo in one smooth motion.
Not having looked at her phone for over an hour, she opened WeChat. In the family group chat, her parents had sent scenic photos. She showered them with gushing praise while expressing her frustration at not being able to witness it herself. As expected, she received compensation for their guilt.
Gu Yu gleefully opened the red packet. Five thousand yuan! She was rich!
Her parents called via video to ask about her daily life. Having received a benefit, Gu Yu naturally told them everything, summarizing a few events from the past days. Then a sudden thought made her freeze.
Oh no! She’d almost forgotten—Jiang Bomu wanted her to fry eggs tomorrow!
Yu Qing, finding joy in her daughter’s predicament, said: “You’re twenty years old, it’s time to learn. When your dad and I get home, you’ll have to make us a lavish dinner.”
Gu Yu replied weakly, “I’m afraid I won’t even survive tomorrow.”
After hanging up, she immediately searched for fried egg tutorials online. Many were perfectly executed, but there were also quite a few dark cuisine examples, making her frown deeply.
She had a premonition: her fried eggs would also be a dark cuisine dish.
After seriously studying for half an hour, she went to sleep. Even in her dreams, she was frying eggs. As soon as she could make a good one, she could marry Jiang Bomu.
But in the dream, the fried egg turned into a lump of charcoal one moment, then a dark cloud the next, and then a wisp of black smoke. A whole night of frantic effort, and not a single decent fried egg was made.
Jiang Bomu, clad in a wedding dress, watched silently the entire time. Finally, she said, “Rotten wood cannot be carved,” and left in disappointment.
At seven o’clock, Gu Yu woke up in a daze. She pumped herself up—dreams were the opposite of reality! She was definitely going to make a perfect fried egg!
After washing up, she marched into the kitchen with heroic determination. Inside the toaster, slices of bread were browning fragrantly. The rice cooker was also diligently working, the aroma of red date black rice porridge drifting out.
Before she could look anywhere else, Jiang Bomu took eggs from the refrigerator.
Everything was set, just missing the fried eggs.
Gu Yu stood before the frying pan, a bit tense. She’d watched countless videos, but now her mind was blank except for images of dark cuisine.
Jiang Bomu instructed: “Turn on the heat first. Once the water evaporates, pour in the cooking oil.”
This step wasn’t hard. Gu Yu completed it smoothly. What she dreaded was the scene after the oil was added—oil splattering everywhere, more terrifying than firecrackers!
She swallowed, planning to pour the egg mixture into the pan before it even noticed. She grabbed an egg and cracked it on the edge of the countertop. Unexpectedly, she used a bit too much force. Before she could get it into the pan, the egg white and yolk spilled all over the floor.
She froze. A disastrous start!
Jiang Bomu had already swiftly turned off the heat, then pulled out paper towels to wipe up the messy countertop.
“It’s okay, it’s only your first time. Take it slow.”
The gentle words brushed past her ears. Gu Yu rallied her spirits, only to stumble again at the same step—she cracked the egg on the edge of the pan, her hand slipped, and both shells and egg slid into the pan together, tracing a rather inelegant arc.
Gu Yu was at a loss. Jiang Bomu once again cleaned up the mess, her voice still gentle: “Are you too nervous?”
“A little bit,” she mumbled.
Her first time frying an egg, her first time frying an egg in front of Jiang Bomu—a double buff of pressure. It was overwhelming.
“I was the same at the beginning,” Jiang Bomu said, her eyes downcast. “I still remember my first time cooking rice. I added way too much water, and the rice turned into congee. The dish I stir-fried was also dark and charred, completely unpalatable.”
This was the first time Gu Yu heard her mention her childhood. Intrigued, she asked, “And then? Did your mom and dad encourage you the same way you’re encouraging me?”
Jiang Bomu placed the nearly formed fried egg into the trash can without answering. Instead, she said, “Keep going. I’m getting a bit hungry.”
They were indeed running behind. Gu Yu asked no more questions and immediately restarted.
Into the sizzling oil pan went the successfully separated egg mixture. The aroma of frying eggs wafted up. Jiang Bomu’s lips curved satisfactorily, but the light in her eyes gradually dimmed. Fragmented memories flashed through her mind.
Sunset clouds beyond the glass window, the flickering energy-saving lamp, soup water spilled across the floor, the roar of a door slamming shut, and a crying child.
Because she had been drenched in the rain herself, she wanted to hold an umbrella for another.
“AAAHH I did it!” Having flipped the fried egg, Gu Yu cheered, “Sister, look, quick!”
Jiang Bomu snapped back to reality. She smiled softly and said, “Wonderful. Xunxun can now stand on her own two feet.”
Immersed in her joy, Gu Yu completely failed to notice the strained quality of her smile. Diligently, she brought the breakfast to the table and laughed, “Now I finally understand why some people love cooking! It’s so fulfilling!”
She sandwiched the fried egg into the toast and took an eager bite, praising herself, “So delicious I could run ten kilometers in one breath!”
Typical case of a hawker praising his own melons.
Jiang Bomu was also amused by Gu Yu, her foul mood swept clean away.
However, she still pushed the glass of milk towards her and said solemnly, “I’ll give you two choices: Run ten kilometers, or drink this glass of milk.”
Gu Yu: “…”
