Chapter 53: To Stay

An old, musty stench mixed with the foul odor of alcohol invaded the air.

Jiang Bomu frowned, got up from her desk, locked her bedroom door, and continued doing her homework.

“Yes, Boss Li, right away, Boss Li…”

The old house had poor sound insulation. Even though Jiang Bomu didn’t want to listen, the groveling tone and the angry voice from the phone speaker still came through clearly.

She pressed her lips together, irritated, and her pen strokes grew heavier.

“I can pay you back next month, I just need a few more days, I can definitely scrape it together…”

Jiang Bomu rubbed her eyes. Listening to her nightly background noise, she felt sleepy, but her homework wasn’t finished yet. It was due tomorrow.

After a moment’s hesitation, she decided against going out to wash her face and wake up. She closed her exercise book, planning to wake up half an hour early tomorrow to finish copying the answers at school.

After checking that the doors and windows were securely shut, she sat in front of the mirror to brush her hair. The mirror reflected a girl of fourteen, her face full of youthful innocence but already possessing the delicate contours of a young woman. Even in a school uniform, she couldn’t hide her ethereal beauty.

After tidying up briefly, she lay down on her bed and casually turned off the light.

“Yes, yes, you’re absolutely right…”

The noise outside continued. Jiang Bomu closed her eyes and sighed, wanting to burrow under her blankets.

Jiang Wende was a gambler, up to his ears in debt. Every so often, debt collectors would come knocking. Jiang Bomu was always terrified to come home; the way those men looked at her filled her with both fear and disgust.

“If you really can’t come up with the money, I won’t make things hard for you. Let’s make a deal. If you dare, I’ll never mention the debt again.”

“Name it, name it!”

Jiang Bomu instantly tensed. It couldn’t be anything illegal, could it? She listened intently.

“Your daughter’s not bad looking. Still a virgin, right?” The man’s voice on the phone was lecherous. “Let her spend one night with me, and we’ll wipe the slate clean…”

Jiang Bomu didn’t understand the word “virgin,” but she understood the sentence that followed. A chill spread through her entire body, as if she’d been plunged into an ice pit.

“Go to hell! She’s only fourteen!”

Thank goodness Jiang Wende still had some bottom line. Jiang Bomu relaxed, just starting to feel moved by this rare paternal protection, when she heard him speak again, casually.

“What I mean is, we can talk about it after she turns sixteen. Right now she’s still too young. Boss Li, just wait two more years. Just two more years.”

Jiang Bomu woke up trembling, the light stinging her sore eyes. She sat up. A tear dripped onto the blanket, spreading into a dark, damp stain.

She wiped her tears haphazardly and sat there in a daze, saying nothing.

That night—and the two years that followed—how had she gotten through them? Her memory was faulty, unable to recall anything. Only the light in her room, never turned off again, and the thick, stinging smell of alcohol, always lingering.

It coiled in her nostrils, carved deep into her mind, never dissipating.

Not wanting to fall back into the memories, Jiang Bomu threw off the covers, intending to wash her face. But she’d forgotten she was still wearing the restrictive gown. She reached out casually, perhaps with too much force.

Riiip.

A tear opened near the collar.

She closed her eyes, pushed her long hair behind her ear, and called Bo Shiyue. The line was busy.

Just as she was about to give up, Bo Shiyue called back.

“Xiao Mu, I just finished up. Is something wrong?”

Jiang Bomu had never called her before. So Bo Shiyue’s perpetually icy voice carried a hint of obvious surprise, like a robot suddenly developing human emotions. The mental image made Jiang Bomu almost laugh. The corner of her mouth lifted, but tears streamed down her face first.

The other end seemed to catch a few choked sobs. Tentatively, Bo Shiyue asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I accidentally ripped my gown,” Jiang Bomu stopped hiding it, her voice thick with tears.

Bo Shiyue was silent for a long moment before speaking. “You know that’s nothing major. So, what’s really wrong?”

She always saw through people so easily. Jiang Bomu bit her lip before managing to speak. “I…”

She’d barely gotten a word out when a female voice came through the phone: “Director, the meeting starts in five minutes.”

Jiang Bomu lowered her eyes. “Then I won’t keep you.”

She and her cousin weren’t exactly close. There was naturally some reserve between them. Although they’d long known about each other’s orientations, they’d never discussed matters of the heart. Seeing that she was interrupting, Jiang Bomu immediately retreated.

Bo Shiyue spat out three icy words: “Continue.”

Yet Jiang Bomu detected tenderness hidden within that coldness.

She finally spoke. “I did something wrong. I trampled all over the dinner she so carefully prepared.”

Bo Shiyue immediately guessed who “she” was. “The girl who opened the door for me?”

“Yeah. She likes me.”

“And you?”

“I…” Jiang Bomu confessed somewhat wretchedly, “I’m too afraid to like her back.”

Bo Shiyue’s words came clearly through the electric current. “No such thing as ‘afraid’ or ‘not afraid.’ If you love each other, you can be together.”

A little agitated, Jiang Bomu said, “But she’s Director Qiao’s granddaughter!”

Bo Shiyue’s voice remained flat. “So?”

Jiang Bomu murmured, “Director Qiao has been so kind to me. I can’t… I can’t lure her granddaughter into a relationship with me. I’d feel guilty for the rest of my life.”

“Lure?” Bo Shiyue corrected. “It’s mutual. Xiao Mu, you think too much.”

“But I can’t help thinking about these things. I’m twenty-seven, not twenty.”

There was a long silence on the other end.

“Xiao Mu,” her voice was tired, “twenty or twenty-seven, it’s all the same. You don’t have decades to waste. Don’t wait until you’re thirty-seven to start regretting.”

Jiang Bomu said nothing.

The usually taciturn Bo Shiyue, however, seemed in the mood to talk. “Let me give you four words,” she said, enunciating each one. “Seize the moment.”

“Don’t hesitate. Go clear things up with her. Be together properly… Don’t end up like me.”

Jiang Bomu froze, about to speak, but Bo Shiyue had already ended the call.

In the second bedroom, Gu Yu was on the phone with Jian Ya.

The moment it connected, she chirped cheerfully, “Congratulate me! I’ve been dumped!”

Jian Ya was baffled. “When were you ever together?”

“Four years,” Gu Yu said seriously. “My four years are over.”

Jian Ya still thought she was joking. “Come on, weren’t you two all kissy-faced and inseparable just a few days ago? Seriously, when are you planning to come out to your parents? Let me learn from your experience.”

“This time it’s real,” Gu Yu said with a calm smile. “Maybe she liked me a little bit too. But we just weren’t meant to be.”

Silence on the other end, followed by the tone of a disconnected call. An instant later, a video call request came.

Gu Yu answered it but didn’t point the camera at herself. She didn’t want Jian Ya to see her red-rimmed eyes.

“If it’s not meant to be, the next one will be better,” Jian Ya consoled her. “You like older sisters, right? Tomorrow, I’ll introduce you to ten mature and refined ladies. They’ll definitely be better than her!”

“None of them will ever be better than her,” Gu Yu pulled her knees up, resting her chin on the puffy blanket. “My life is already over,” she murmured.

The most painful and most joyful moments of her entire life had happened in these two months. She had traded this short span of time for a lifetime.

“What kind of depressing talk is that?!” Jian Ya started to panic a little. “Xun, you’re not thinking of doing something stupid, are you?”

Gu Yu managed a faint smile at her words. “How is that possible? Am I the type to throw my life away for love?”

“Yes.”

“…” Gu Yu let out a breath. “Not anymore.”

She gently stroked Wan An’s little head and spoke softly. “I still have Wan An to take care of. Cats can heal everything.”

Seeing she still had some hope for life, Jian Ya finally relaxed. “Where are you right now?” she asked.

“Still at her place,” Gu Yu glanced around the room, then said without hesitation, “I’m going home tomorrow.”

“Can you bear to leave?”

“She doesn’t even care about me. What difference does it make whether I can bear it or not?” Gu Yu took a sip of red wine and smiled bitterly.

Jian Ya tactfully stopped asking. “Want me to help you pack?” she offered instead.

“No need. I don’t have much stuff.”

She’d arrived with just one suitcase. She’d leave exactly the same way.

The only change: she’d arrived carrying her love for Jiang Bomu. She’d leave with nothing but disappointment.

After hanging up, Gu Yu wrapped her arms around her knees and buried her face.

Their relationship had always been unbalanced. She’d nursed a one-sided crush for four years. Because of the occasional response from the other party, she’d started craving more. In the end, losing everything was only to be expected.

Maybe losing it all would be a relief. Let everything return to the starting point.

So, go back to how it was before, Gu Yu thought. At least back then she was happy. Hiding that enormous secret only she knew, occasionally glancing at that unattainable evening twilight on the horizon—that was already good, good enough.

Gu Yu opened Weibo, ready to delete her manhua.

But scrolling through, post by post, she found herself smiling through tears, vividly recalling every little detail. She couldn’t bear to delete a single one.

In the end, she posted a new update.

“The manhua is on hiatus. No return date is set.”

It had actually been on hiatus for a while already. The latest four-panel comic had many fans urging updates. As soon as she posted, people immediately commented, asking what was going on.

Gu Yu slowly typed a reply, then quickly deleted it and typed again—

“It’s over.”

Just like that story of the Older Sister and the Kid, the story between me and the big star is over.

Gu Yu thought, fooling herself, if only she’d told Jiang Bomu a story with a happy ending, could they have had a happy ending too?

But no matter how much she wished to change it, she couldn’t travel back in time. They already had a predetermined bad ending.

Gu Yu picked up the red wine and poured herself another glass. She gently clinked her wine glass against the bottle, as if making a toast, and drank it all in one go.

After intermittently drinking half a bottle of wine, her consciousness started to blur. She almost felt she could hear knocking on the door—soft, rhythmic, three knocks. The way Jiang Bomu knocked.

Gu Yu was stunned for a moment, then immediately sobered. Auditory hallucinations after a few glasses of red wine? She wasn’t that drunk.

To her surprise, the hallucination continued. The knocking sounded again, unhurried, three more knocks.

Face full of impatience, Gu Yu put down her wine glass, burrowed under her blanket, and covered her ears, trying to drive the hallucination from her mind.

It seemed to work. The annoying knocking stopped. Gu Yu relaxed and lowered her hands.

Knock, knock, knock.

Damn it. Would it ever end?

Resigned, she covered her ears again, wondering if the apartment was haunted. It knew she was leaving, so it came specially to scare her.

Even the ghosts sided with that woman, Jiang Bomu.

The knocking came again. Gu Yu jumped up and ran to open the door. She would go and meet this ghost herself.

What filled her vision, however, was Jiang Bomu. She had removed her makeup, changed into that black nightgown, and was leaning gracefully against the doorframe.

Gu Yu’s hand tightened on the doorknob, but her face remained calm as she waited for her to speak.

“Xunxun, you said you would always coax me to sleep.”

Her voice seemed blended with a touch of moonlight, carrying a cool clarity, trembling slightly as she continued.

“I can’t sleep. Do those words from that day still count?”