“One time was funny. I was on a business trip and passed by, so I parked under your apartment building, planning to sit for a bit and leave. It was summer evening, the sky not fully dark yet. Your scream came from the lit kitchen window. Xingran rushed in asking what was wrong. You said there was a cockroach, so Xingran screamed with you. I sat in the car listening and laughed for a long time.”
A few years ago, Mu Shanyi hadn’t gone upstairs.
Years later, Miao Zhu and Mu Shanyi loved each other, but on that night at Mercy Grace Hospital, Mu Shanyi had rushed there yet still couldn’t appear before Miao Zhu.
As Mu Shanyi shared the funny memory, Miao Zhu was overwhelmed by guilt. She wanted to give Mu Shanyi so much love.
The train switched tracks, snow kicked up by the wheels into the air, and the car jolted slightly. Miao Zhu steadied herself on Mu Shanyi’s arm, gazing intently at the face that made her heart race. “Baby sister, can you tell me? When did you start liking me?”
Mu Shanyi blinked slowly, the unexpected endearment blanking her mind for a moment.
Miao Zhu’s eyes were red-rimmed, but her expression shone brightly, endless love pouring out from her like tangible threads.
Mu Shanyi buried her face in Miao Zhu’s neck, holding her with restrained strength.
“I can’t pinpoint exactly when.” Mu Shanyi spoke as she reminisced, her voice brushing softly over Miao Zhu’s ear. “There was Aunt Ni’s birthday banquet one year. You were sixteen or seventeen? The evening banquet was lively, and you played a very long piece. Later, I saw you and Xingran in the courtyard downstairs. You were holding a stray cat that came from nowhere. Xingran said it was dirty and told you not to hold it, so you put it down. For some reason, in that moment, you seemed more pitiful than the stray kitten.”
Miao Zhu barely remembered it—her life had too many such moments.
She wondered more if she’d left any special impression on Mu Shanyi that day. Sadly, Mu Shanyi had been the center of attention, but to her back then, just a distant figure to respect from afar.
“The clearest time was at Xingran’s coming-of-age party. Remember that manor? There was a unique outdoor spiral staircase.”
Miao Zhu remembered the party but not the spiral staircase. She listened quietly as Mu Shanyi continued. “I’d flown in from several countries and was exhausted, just wanting to rest quickly. As I went up the stairs, I heard you calling Xingran. I turned and saw you draped over the bottom railing, chasing after me, shouting Xingran’s name.”
“…You mistook me for Xingran!?” Miao Zhu searched her memories but found nothing. She pulled back from Mu Shanyi’s embrace in disbelief.
Mu Shanyi soothed her. “You were drunk.”
Mu Shanyi returned to that day in her mind.
It was dusk, a gentle evening breeze blowing. Miao Zhu was drunk, her cheeks flushed with a rosy glow. She carried a large bouquet of pink and white roses in her arm, wearing a goose-yellow off-shoulder waist-cinching gown, the hem pooling on the ground like butterfly wings, light and ethereal.
“Xingran!” Drunk and hazy, Miao Zhu held out her palm to her—
“You peeled a candy for me.”
“I really have no memory of it at all! …Did you take that candy?”
“Yes, I ate it. It was very sweet.”
Mu Shanyi slowly descended the stairs, separated from Miao Zhu only by the railing.
Miao Zhu raised her palm. “Here~ for you!”
Mu Shanyi bent down and took the candy from Miao Zhu’s hand into her mouth. As she looked up, the distant sunset was gorgeous, but it paled in her eyes—only the nearby Miao Zhu was a vibrant spring painting full of color.
“I thought then that I’d probably be sad for a long time. Today’s sunset and candy didn’t belong to me.”
So even the moment Mu Shanyi realized her feelings had been bittersweet.
Ripples of sorrow spread in Miao Zhu’s heart. “Did it hurt? Holding your true heart close to me, only for it to be trampled from the start as lovers.”
Mu Shanyi said, “You were the candy that was given to me. I was prepared to lose you at any time.”
All those words Mu Shanyi had once said to Miao Zhu—
“You don’t need to care about my feelings. I have no demands of you.”
“You can be however you want. No pressure, just be happy.”
“Don’t cry for me.”
“…”
Mu Shanyi had laid her heart bare from the beginning, but even prepared for loss, she had been hurt. Tears blurred Miao Zhu’s vision again. “And now? Don’t prepare to lose me anymore, okay? I want to be with you forever and ever. I won’t—I really won’t hurt you again.”
“I know.” Tears fell one after another onto Miao Zhu’s neck. “Don’t blame yourself anymore, okay? I never blamed you. I’m heartbroken for you too.”
How could someone love another so deeply, wanting to become entwined vines in an undisturbed world, forever wrapped together.
“Thank you for accepting me.” Miao Zhu straightened up, wrapped her arms around Mu Shanyi’s neck, pulling her into an embrace like vines entwining. “Thank you for still loving me.”
Mu Shanyi hugged her back even tighter.
They held each other seamlessly, listening quietly to each other’s heartbeats and breaths. The sense of safety and solidity, being fully cradled by the other body and soul, was unprecedented.
Outside the window, the train sped across open wilderness, leaving mountains, tree shadows, and chimney smoke far behind.
The past was past; they turned to a brand-new page in life.
“Baby sister,” with her tears stopped, Miao Zhu’s voice was nasal, “That first night I went to Tower Shadow Sunny River, you said you weren’t prepared to do it. What about tonight? Are you prepared now?”
Miao Zhu’s directness drew a soft laugh. “What about you? Do you want to?”
Miao Zhu muttered, blushing, “Of course.”
Mu Shanyi kissed her laughing, but after a while, she still found Miao Zhu’s straightforwardness cutely rule-breaking. With lips curved, she said, “Baby, do it yourself first.”
The lights dimmed. On the large bed, fluffy black hair piled like clouds on the white pillow, the silky nightgown flowed like water onto the carpet.
