Chapter 32: Heart Moves: Day 12

After playing games for a while, Cen Jin checked the time and figured it was about right, so she stepped out of the private room.

When she returned, a male waiter trailed behind her, pushing a small cart topped with a large, beautiful birthday cake.

Someone had switched off all the lights in the room. Only the heart-shaped candles on the cake flickered, their glow as dazzling as fireworks.

Everyone crowded around Guanguan, their faces lit with joyful smiles.

“Happy birthday!”

“Happy adulthood.” Jiang Wan had already risen and walked over to Guanguan’s side. She gently placed a birthday hat on her head, her gaze softening.

“Blow out the candles and make a wish.”

“The junior schoolgirl’s all grown up.” Cen Jin leaned against the wall with her arms crossed, a teasing smile playing on her lips, though her tone held genuine warmth.

Bathed in the candlelight, the girl’s cheeks flushed a soft red.

She gazed at the faces around her, her eyes shimmering with emotion, her voice catching in her throat.

“Thank you, everyone.” With that, she leaned forward slightly and blew out the candles.

Then she pressed her hands together, closed her eyes, and made a silent wish.

“What’d you wish for?” a classmate asked curiously as Guanguan opened her eyes.

“Can’t tell.” Guanguan shook her head with a playful grin. “It won’t come true if I do.”

No sooner had she spoken than a classmate smeared a streak of cake across her face.

The lights flicked on. Guanguan spotted the culprit—a boy who had scampered to the farthest corner of the room, pulling smug faces at her.

“Chen Xu, you’re toast!” Guanguan scooped up a handful of frosting and charged at him with mock fury.

The others dove into the fray, launching a full-on frosting war. They chased one another around the private room in a whirlwind of laughter and chaos.

But they were careful, keeping the mess off the sofa and floor.

Cen Jin watched the fun with a grin, but she had no desire to get frosting in her hair or on her clothes. She slipped out of the room, leaving the space to them.

Bei Huai, for her part, observed the mayhem with a cool detachment. No one dared smear frosting on her face; they all steered clear of her corner instinctively.

Even Jiang Wan, sitting right beside her, steered clear.

In the end, though, it was Jiang Wan who sneaked a dab of frosting onto Bei Huai’s cheek, catching her completely off guard.

Bei Huai froze, her expression blank.

When she didn’t respond right away, Jiang Wan’s smile dimmed a touch. She blinked up at her. “Are you mad?”

Bei Huai wiped the frosting away with a napkin, her face wooden. “No,” she grumbled.

“That’s good.” The girl’s smile bloomed again.

Then she swiped another dollop onto Bei Huai’s face.

Bei Huai: “…”

Her eyes narrowed. In one swift motion, she yanked the girl close.

Jiang Wan collided with her chest, caught off guard. She rubbed her bumped nose and tilted her face up. “Little Bei…”

They were so close now that Bei Huai could make out the fine fuzz on Jiang Wan’s cheeks, could feel the girl’s warm breath brushing against her skin.

Bei Huai’s heart stuttered. Slowly, she lowered her gaze and released the girl’s arm, shoving a napkin into her hand.

“You made the mess. Clean it up.”

Jiang Wan glanced at the napkin, then at Bei Huai’s stern face, and burst out laughing with a “pfft.”

She couldn’t help it—Bei Huai had seemed so intimidating a moment ago, but it was all thunder and no lightning.

“Still laughing?” Bei Huai pretended to scowl.

Jiang Wan waved her hands frantically. “Not laughing, not anymore.”

stifling her giggles, she dabbed at Bei Huai’s face with the napkin.

Her touch was feather-light and gentle.

It was strange. They weren’t even making skin contact, yet Bei Huai felt a sudden heat blooming across her cheeks.

Itchy. Burning.

And little by little, that itch crept into her heart.

~~~

After all the horseplay, everyone was worn out.

It was nearly eleven.

They tidied up and prepared to head home.

“This birthday gift was put together on the fly—a bit simple. Hope you don’t mind.” A few classmates handed Guanguan a gift box with smiles.

They’d only learned it was her birthday that day, so they’d grabbed the best they could find nearby.

Guanguan took it with a radiant smile. “Mind? Not at all. It’s the thought that counts. Thank you!”

“Happy birthday.” Bei Huai handed over a box of her own, her voice even.

She wasn’t great at picking gifts, so she’d gone with a bottle of high-end perfume.

“Thank you, thank you.” Guanguan’s eyes swept over to Jiang Wan.

“Wanwan?”

Jiang Wan smiled and pulled a photo album from her bag.

She’d been planning this gift for ages.

It was a handmade collection of their photos, from childhood right up to now—capturing all their shared moments. On the back of every picture, she’d written her heartfelt wishes.

Time really flew. In the blink of an eye, they’d known each other for a whole decade.

At first, Jiang Wan tricked Guanguan, claiming the coming-of-age gift she’d given her was two thick volumes of practice workbooks.

She even delivered the lie with a perfectly straight face, successfully fooling Guanguan.

It really got under Guanguan’s skin, because this wasn’t the first time Jiang Wan had pulled something like that.

Then she received a thick photo album, and Guanguan was so thrilled she let out a squeal of delight.

“I knew it! Wanwan loves me the most!” Her face beamed with pure happiness.

But she didn’t notice Bei Huai frowning behind her.

Guanguan’s classmates had all left ahead of them.

Guanguan and Cen Jin lived in the same direction, so the two of them set off together.

As for Bei Huai and Jiang Wan…

Cen Jin arched an eyebrow, casting a meaningful glance at Bei Huai.

The girl had her hands shoved in her pockets, standing casually beside Jiang Wan as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“Hey, Bei Huai, you heading the same way as Wanwan?” Guanguan asked, her eyes wide.

“Yeah.” Bei Huai nodded without the slightest hint of guilt.

Cen Jin’s lips curved in a subtle smile, but she didn’t call out the obvious fib.

“Junior schoolgirl, the bus is here.”

Guanguan whipped around and saw it was the last bus of the night. She waved frantically in farewell.

“Then we’re off! Bei Huai, look after Wanwan for me. Bye!”

“Stay safe on the road, and text me when you get home,” Jiang Wan called after her.

“Got it!” Guanguan hopped on board and shouted back from the window.

The bus pulled away from the stop in short order. Guanguan craned her neck for one last look, but she could only make out the two faint silhouettes on the platform.

The next instant, someone yanked the back of her collar.

“Don’t you know you’re not supposed to stick your head out the window?” Cen Jin’s face was unusually stern as she rapped the girl sharply on the forehead.

Guanguan yelped in pain, clutching her forehead with a look of pure grievance.

“I’m sorry! I won’t do it again.”

“There better not be a next time.” Cen Jin shot her a sidelong glare, her tone sharpening.

Guanguan pouted. “Why are you being so mean?”

“Everyone else gave me gifts today, but not you—and now you’re yelling at me.”

She put on her most pitiful expression.

She’d been looking forward to Cen Jin’s gift all day long, only to end up with nothing. What a letdown.

Amusement danced in Cen Jin’s eyes, but she made a show of holding up her empty hands.

“Hey, I really don’t have one.”

Guanguan puffed out her cheeks in displeasure and turned her head away, refusing to look at that face anymore.

“So, what’s the one gift you want most?” Cen Jin tilted her chin, her question carrying a teasing edge.

“The one I want most?” Guanguan turned back.

“What, haven’t decided yet?”

Guanguan paused, then mimicked Cen Jin’s casual tone. “Oh, I have. I want you.”

She cloaked her true feelings in the guise of a joke.

Her face still held a smile, but inside, her heart was thundering, nerves on edge.

Would Cen Jin… see right through it?

How would she… respond?

“Me? Sorry, no dice.” Cen Jin shook her head, drawing out the words.

“Junior schoolgirl, don’t even dream about it. I’m destined to be the one you can never have.”

She delivered the line with all the smug self-assurance of a total narcissist.

Guanguan pressed her lips together tightly, her heart sinking little by little.

She knew Cen Jin was just joking around, but the disappointment still hit her hard, impossible to shake off.

Maybe Cen Jin had picked up on something and was trying to let her down easy—reminding her not to waste her time. Or maybe she was just reading too much into it.

She forced a smile, trying to act like nothing had changed.

“Narcissist,” she muttered under her breath.

Cen Jin let out a dismissive tsk and fell silent, leaning back in her seat to close her eyes and rest.

The smile slipped from Guanguan’s face. She stole a careful glance at Cen Jin—the expression she adored so much.

Then she turned away, staring blankly at the passing scenery outside the window. The cold wind sliced across her face like a blade, stinging sharply.

But no physical pain could compare to the bitterness churning inside her.

So this was the agony of a one-sided crush.

A little while later, Guanguan’s stop arrived.

She glanced at Cen Jin, who was still dozing with her eyes shut. Rather than wake her, Guanguan slipped quietly past and stepped off—the driver would call her at the terminus.

She sighed to herself. She’d had such a blast today, but now she was heading home with a stomach full of frustration and gloom.

Yet before her foot even hit the ground, a voice called from behind.

“Junior schoolgirl, catch your gift.”

Guanguan spun around just in time to snatch a gift bag out of the air.

She hadn’t even opened her mouth when the driver snapped impatiently, “Hey, girl, you getting off or what?”

“Bye-bye, junior schoolgirl.” Cen Jin waved from her seat, a smile on her face.

Guanguan bit her lip and stepped down.

She stood there in the darkness, watching the bus vanish into the distance, her emotions a tangled mess.

Cen Jin… what was she really thinking?

~~~

Night had fallen deep and heavy, the wind howling wildly through the streets, where only a few scattered pedestrians braved the cold.

Jiang Wan tugged at her collar, cupping her hands over her mouth and exhaling a few careful breaths of warm air to chase away the chill.

“Cold?” Bei Huai asked.

“It’s fine. It’ll warm up once we’re in the car,” Jiang Wan said with a wave of her hand. She half-expected Bei Huai to pull a classic TV drama move and drape her jacket over her shoulders.

Instead, the girl let out a soft scoff, wrapped an arm around her waist, and pulled her close. She opened her coat wide, enveloping Jiang Wan in its warmth.

Nestled in Bei Huai’s embrace, Jiang Wan felt a steady stream of heat radiating from her. She buried her face against her chest, a faint blush creeping across her cheeks.

“Isn’t this way better than freezing?” Bei Huai raised an eyebrow, gazing down at the girl in her arms as her smile deepened.

“Yeah… I suppose it is,” the girl murmured softly.

They stayed like that until the cab they’d called pulled up.

Technically, there was one more bus that should have come by for Jiang Wan’s route home, but it was nowhere to be seen—no empty cabs passing either. She was about to wait a little longer when she noticed Bei Huai had already booked a ride on her phone.

The moment they slid into the car, warmth enveloped them.

Exhausted from the long day, Jiang Wan felt drowsiness wash over her in the cozy confines. She let out a few yawns, her eyelids heavy, and naturally leaned into Bei Huai’s arms. She shifted and wriggled until she found a comfortable spot, then drifted off to sleep like a good little girl.

Bei Huai found the wriggling unbearably distracting. It wasn’t painful anywhere, but it ignited a restless fire in her chest, leaving her mouth dry and her thoughts in turmoil. Still, she couldn’t bring herself to push the girl away.

She just had to endure it.

When they finally reached Jiang Wan’s neighborhood, Bei Huai let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Jiang Wan rubbed her eyes and climbed out of the car. In the distance, she spotted a familiar figure waiting.

No need to guess—it was her mom. Even though she’d texted that she might be late, no mother could help but worry about her child.

Bei Huai had seen her too, of course.

As Jiang Wan said her goodbyes and turned to leave, Bei Huai clenched her fingers and called out to stop her.

“What’s wrong?” Jiang Wan asked, turning back with a puzzled look.

“That day…” Bei Huai hesitated, but when her eyes met Jiang Wan’s bright gaze, her lips parted a few times without a sound escaping.

“Never mind. Get some rest.”

“Little Bei,” Jiang Wan said thoughtfully, then smiled. “I had such a great time today. The best part was…”

“You came.”

“See you!” She waved cheerfully before turning and dashing toward her mother.

Bei Huai stood frozen in place, staring at her retreating back.

Goodbye. Until the next goodbye.

Bei Huai realized she could no longer lie to herself.

She… liked Jiang Wan.

Liked her a lot. Very, very much.