Bai Kou waved her hands. “No, no, we haven’t even started dating. She doesn’t even know I like her.”
“…”
Looking into Bai Kou’s clear eyes, Yang Wanxi truly felt like coming back this time was asking for punishment.
She put her hands on her hips, turned her head, closed her eyes for a moment, and worked hard to suppress the nameless fire in her chest. She tried a different angle, speaking evenly. “Then I suggest you don’t let her know. At least hold off until graduation, or you might get rejected and not even stay friends.”
“I know.” Bai Kou said softly. “I wasn’t planning to tell her anyway. It hasn’t reached that point.”
Hearing this, Yang Wanxi felt a bit settled, but the fire in her heart hadn’t fully dissipated.
She looked back at Bai Kou and asked, “Alright, one more thing I want to know. Bai Kou, are you not willing to tell me anything anymore?”
Bai Kou frowned. “What else is there?”
“I’m not saying you have something else.” Yang Wanxi pressed her lips. “Like your middle school entrance exam results—I was the last to know. And your class assignment, I heard it from Yu Qiao-jie.”
“But only Mom, Sis, and Tongtong knew before that.” Bai Kou said. “Plus, you guys had finals at the time. You said they were tough and your dorm was up all night reviewing, so that’s why I waited until after your exams to call.”
“Then what about this time.” Yang Wanxi asked.
“This time…” Bai Kou lowered her head and sighed. “Mm, this time it was definitely my fault, but some things are just too embarrassing to say outright… Haven’t you ever felt that way?”
“No.” Yang Wanxi cut her off decisively. “It’s like how I used to think it was embarrassing to cry in front of others, but Bai Kou, you’re different to me, so I’ve never been afraid to cry in front of you.”
“…That’s not the same thing.” Bai Kou bit her lower lip for a moment, hesitating over whether to voice the unhappiness she’d bottled up for years.
“What else is there?” Yang Wanxi asked. “I don’t think there’s anything I’m too embarrassed to let you know.”
“…” Bai Kou touched her forehead and muttered back, “Of course there is.”
She raised her gaze and looked coldly at Yang Wanxi. “Doesn’t QY count?”
Yang Wanxi’s expression froze.
Bai Kou turned her face away and let out a long breath. She had said it now, so she might as well clear the air.
“Sorry, I accidentally opened that love letter back then, but you never told us about QY. You didn’t even tell me or your sister when you fought with her and went cold on each other.”
“…Yeah.” Yang Wanxi nodded slowly with a light laugh. “So you saw it.”
Bai Kou suddenly found this scene of dredging up old grievances deeply uncomfortable. Yang Wanxi had come back for the Mid-Autumn Festival—why were they arguing over things that were in the past?
She lowered her eyes for a second, then smiled. “Ah, so you see? Everyone has things they’re embarrassed about. Can we just call it even?”
Yang Wanxi’s face remained calm and she said nothing.
But the atmosphere seemed to ease a bit.
Bai Kou reached out and gently took hold of Yang Wanxi’s wrist. “Right, I heard Pei Yue say there’s a new snack street at Shijing Lake, and there’s an event for the Mid-Autumn Festival. Want to go check it out together tomorrow?”
Yang Wanxi lifted her eyes. “Pei Yue said that? Then why don’t you go with Pei Yue?”
“Ah?” Bai Kou blanked for a second and blurted out the truth. “She has something going on for the Mid-Autumn Festival.”
Yang Wanxi sighed in utter exasperation, nodding slightly over and over. “Fine, fine, fine… Bai Kou, I simply fed my true heart to the dog.”
With that, she pulled her hand back, brushed coldly past Bai Kou, opened the door, and left.
Dog?
Yang Wanxi called me a dog?!
It took a long while after she left before Bai Kou, still dumbly standing in the entryway, finally registered what she had said.
Fuming, she whipped around and yelled into the stairwell, “Yang Wanxi, you’re the dog!!!”
The two dogs each sulked at home.
Yangyang Dog madly mashed the remote, flipping through channels three times over, her mind racing nonstop: Why did I even come back? Great job!
Doudou Dog crunched through her chips with “crunch crunch” sounds—potato going in her mouth, flames dropping into her stomach.
She thought, Even if I didn’t tell the truth this time, did you? It’s exactly the same thing—why do you get to call me a dog?!
Then, as Bai Kou fumed and prepared to tattle to her sister, typing out a message about how Yang Wanxi had called her a dog—
Her front door flew open with a “bang.”
Yang Wanxi burst in with, “Bai Kou, you’ve been like this since you were little! You’d just met your sister and you already said my squad leader wasn’t as good as her!”
Oh yeah? You’re back, huh!
Bai Kou tossed aside her half-typed phone message and shot to her feet. “What about you? You knew I was upset, but you still had to call Xixi ‘Doudou’!”
“I let it go when you shared the candy I gave you with your sister! But you even gave some to Lu Tongtong! And that whatever, Sister Pang! Did I say anything?”
“You call me ‘little kid’ all the time—did I say anything?!”
“And I helped you drink your medicine every day!” Yang Wanxi raised her right hand and gestured emphatically: “4”, “3”—“forty-three times! You even wrote an IOU! Did I ever ask you to pay me back?”
“My sister helped me drink it too!” Bai Kou planted her hands on her hips, then pointed at Yang Wanxi. “Do you know how much trouble that collage I gave you was? Where is it now? I went to your place and didn’t see it at all! You’ve probably squished it somewhere ages ago! I felt like my true heart got eaten by a dog!”
Yang Wanxi’s eyes widened in disbelief!
She charged up to Bai Kou in three steps, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook.
“It’s! In! My! Dorm!”
Bai Kou nearly got shaken dizzy. At this point, it wasn’t even about right and wrong anymore—it was about momentum, about venting.
She grabbed Yang Wanxi’s collar in return and yanked her right up to her nose. “I don’t believe you! Proof!”
Bai Kou wasn’t about to cry, but her eyes were like water-soaked pebbles, ripples of anger spreading across the surface, clearly reflecting Yang Wanxi’s own eyes.
When they were little, Yang Wanxi often bickered with Bai Kou, but it was always minor stuff, and Bai Kou softened easily.
But the Bai Kou before her now was youthful, scorching hot, unyielding.
Bai Kou’s nose tip nearly touched Yang Wanxi’s, and that yank seemed to unwittingly pull Yang Wanxi into a hazy world.
Thump thump.
Thump thump.
…The world was utterly quiet, filled only with the sound of Yang Wanxi’s heartbeat.
And one crystal-clear thought in her mind—
“It’s over.”
“Gurgle—” Bai Kou’s stomach growled.
Bai Kou thought, You, you, you—what’s wrong with you! Growling at a time like this—how embarrassing!
She didn’t let go of Yang Wanxi’s collar, but a flicker of uncertainty crept into her expression.
“…No more arguing.” Strangely, amid her uncertainty, Yang Wanxi suddenly reverted to an eerie calm. She gently pulled Bai Kou’s hand away, lowered her eyes, and smoothed her wrinkled collar.
She turned.
“Bai Kou.” Yang Wanxi walked toward the kitchen as she asked, “Do you have any instant noodles at home?”
“Yeah, probably.” Bai Kou followed her in, stood on tiptoe to open the cabinet. “I think Mom bought two family packs last week.”
She found them and handed them over.
Then Yang Wanxi acted as if nothing had happened between them. She quietly tore open the outer bag, took out two small packs, and as she turned to get eggs, asked, “How many fried eggs do you want?”
Bai Kou usually only ate one.
But today she was so mad she was starving.
So she lifted her chin with a “hmph hmph” and grudgingly said, “Two, I guess.”
She thought the war was over.
But while eating the noodles, Bai Kou muttered softly, “Isn’t there just a tiny bit too much salt in these fried eggs?”
They started arguing again.
Mid-argument, Yang Wanxi slammed down her chopsticks. “Believe it or not, I’ll call Yuqiao-jie and tell her you’re dating early!”
Bai Kou chuckled twice and wiped her mouth. “Go ahead! I’ll tell her you’re dating early too!”
“When did I ever date early?”
“Doesn’t matter to me.” Bai Kou smiled. “If you didn’t date early, then neither did I. At most, I had a crush.”
The video call waited nearly five minutes.
“Click,” a soft sound.
Bai Kou quickly looked up from her WeChat on her phone.
Finally, she saw Bai Yuqiao sitting in the frame.
She still wore a simple light-colored shirt with her hair loosely tied low, but something was different—
“Sis, since when do you wear glasses?”
Sure enough, Bai Yuqiao in the video wore a pair of thin rimless glasses for the first time.
【I’ve always needed them a little. Just got them prescribed recently for lab work.】 Bai Yuqiao typed back.
After sending it, the person in the frame lifted a hand to take off the glasses, lowered her head to put them in the case—another “click.”
【What did you need me for?】 Bai Yuqiao asked.
“Bai Kou’s dating early.” Yang Wanxi pinned down the eager Bai Kou and declared it first in a heavy tone.
But Bai Yuqiao in the frame showed no reaction. After a moment, she leaned forward and typed: 【Dating early?】
“Hey, no, I didn’t—at most it was a crush!” Bai Kou shoved Yang Wanxi aside emphatically. “Sis! Yang Wanxi’s the one dating early! She got a love letter in her sophomore year! And she never told us!”
“…”
The two went back and forth, neither yielding, arguing from who dated early to who ate an extra peanut candy back in the day.
Bai Yuqiao sat in the frame, listening quietly at first. Later, who knew when, she pulled out a book.
Page after page, she flipped through it unusually frequently.
After Yang Wanxi went home, Bai Kou secretly video-called her sister again.
“To be honest, I’ve been kinda down lately.” She sprawled in front of the camera, mumbling listlessly. “Tongtong and I are apart now. She’s not at my school, but she’s with some of our old classmates. I ate with them a few days ago and couldn’t even follow what they were laughing about. It really, really hurt inside. Sis, do you think Tongtong and I will still be good friends later?”
She looked up and saw her sister smile at her, then type:
【People always grow up.】
【But maybe you’ll end up at the same university. Just don’t forget the happy times from before.】
Bai Kou nodded, thought for a bit with her head down, then looked up again. “And Pei Yue—”
【Right.】
But her sister didn’t catch what she said and just sent two words.
Bai Kou: “Hm? What?”
Bai Yuqiao: 【I bought your ticket. Don’t bring too much—just the essentials. I’ll prepare the rest.】
Followed by two flight details.
Bai Kou “whoa”-ed and leaned close to the screen, scrutinizing it. “Flight on the evening of the 30th? I’ll get to Beijing super late that day—won’t we have nowhere to stay?”
【We will.】 Bai Yuqiao replied. 【Don’t worry.】
“Okay!” Bai Kou laughed. Of course she trusted her sister’s arrangements unconditionally. She cupped her hands under her chin and sighed, “Ahh—Beijing! I’m already looking forward to it!”
Bai Kou had just ended the call with her sister when Yang Wanxi’s WeChat popped up.
Mie: 【What time tomorrow.】
One Egg Tart at a Time: 【What time?】
Mie: 【Aren’t we going to Shijing Lake.】
One Egg Tart at a Time: 【You wanna go?】
Half a minute later, Mie: 【Mm-hmm.】
Bai Kou spun in her chair, thought for a moment, then replied: 【Two in the afternoon?】
Mie: 【That late? What about morning?】
One Egg Tart at a Time: 【Sleep in—finally a holiday.】
Mie: 【…】
Mie: 【/Pig Head//Pig Head/】
Mie: 【Fine. Text me when you wake up tomorrow morning.】
One Egg Tart at a Time: 【Why?】
Mie: 【To bring breakfast for the early-dating kid /smile/】
