The car was utterly silent in the rainy night.
The aroma of french fries wafted through the air.
They were still hot.
Bai Kou kept her eyes straight ahead on the road, the windshield wipers swishing back and forth relentlessly in her vision.
Occasionally, she heard the rustle of the paper bag and caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye of the item cradled in Bai Yuqiao’s hands, resting on her bag.
What age were her friends that they had McDonald’s for a late dinner?
Bai Kou wondered to herself, and right after that, she noticed Bai Yuqiao staring at her openly, without any attempt to hide it.
Bai Kou immediately forced a smile and looked away.
For the next ten minutes or so, there was not a single sound in the car. The two of them listened to the wipers in silence until they returned to the neighborhood.
“We’re here.”
Bai Kou braked steadily and said lightly.
Then the two got out of the car, went upstairs, and said nothing the whole way.
“Uh, Bai, Bai Yuqiao.” As Bai Yuqiao was about to head back to her room, Bai Kou hesitated for a second but still called out to her, then apologized. “I’m sorry. I lied to you back at the zoo.”
Bai Yuqiao closed the door, bag of still-warm fries in hand.
She was in a great mood.
When Bai Xiaochu had sold the house and moved, Bai Yuqiao had already gone off to university in Beijing, so many of the things from her old room had been packed away in boxes for temporary storage.
Her new room in Bai Kou’s home—which now belonged to her too—was practically bare, devoid of any trace of her childhood.
However.
Bai Yuqiao, who had always been attached to the past, loved this almost-empty new room.
She set the plastic bag, still misty with steam, on the table, pulled out the chair in front of it, and sat facing the window.
Her fingers slowly traced the edge of the table.
She liked it because even if Bai Kou had ignored her for the past few years, everything in this room—a table, a chair, a lamp, a rug, a small trash bin—had been personally selected and placed there by Bai Kou.
Bai Kou’s room was all low to the ground, a cozy tatami forest.
But this room was all elevated: the high bed always covered with thick, plush bedding, pillows so fluffy she sank right into them upon lying down—these were habits from Bai Yuqiao’s childhood. Only when she was heavily weighted down and completely enveloped during sleep did she feel safe from the bottom of her heart, only then could she fall asleep.
The first night Bai Yuqiao returned to this home, she had been in a bad mood because Bai Kou had vanished after barely speaking to her. She hadn’t noticed these details right away when she lay down.
She had slept exceptionally well that night. The next morning, when she opened her eyes and turned her head, she realized she was sunk into the pillow—that was when enlightenment dawned.
Bai Yuqiao didn’t dare assume Bai Kou had prepared it for her. After leaving the room, she had indirectly asked Bai Xiaochu.
“It wasn’t me. I’ve only been back a couple days—how could it be?” Bai Xiaochu laughed as she snapped green beans. “Bai Doudou’s really capable now. She set up your room and mine all by herself.”
“…”
Bai Yuqiao thought back to this as she listened to the pattering rain outside the window. She lowered her gaze and smiled contentedly for a while.
Then she picked up the now-limp fries, shook the bag, and felt a bit regretful.
She remembered Bai Kou saying that fries straight out of the fryer were number one, so she had sat there watching and gone to buy them especially.
She had planned to find a chance on the way home to let Bai Kou try some…
But she had hesitated and hesitated, and in the end, never mustered the courage to act.
Knock knock knock.
The next day, Bai Kou knocked on the door of the lounge.
“Who is it?” Yang Wanxi’s voice came from inside.
“Me.” Bai Kou said, “Bai Kou.”
Click. The door unlocked and swung open. Yang Wanxi wore a black-and-pink checkered shirt that Bai Kou vaguely remembered seeing before, with a camisole underneath. The collar and hem of the checkered shirt were caught in the thin straps, and Yang Wanxi was pulling them free. “Wait for me a sec. Someone else is coming to match something.”
“Mm.” Seeing the back collar also snagged on the strap, Bai Kou reached out and helped pull it free. “How did you manage to wear this so the outer layer got stuck inside?”
Yang Wanxi glanced subtly at Bai Kou after her shoulder skin was touched, but said nothing.
She straightened the shirt overall, sat down, and only then replied, “Just wore it like that.”
Talking nonsense.
Yang Wanxi sat in the folding chair, so Bai Kou settled into the black leather sofa nearby. “You planning to go to the movie like this tonight?”
“Yeah, what’s wrong?”
“Where’s your hat? Sunglasses?” Bai Kou asked. “You covered up so thoroughly when you came back for New Year, but you don’t need to today?”
“That was for New Year because—” Afraid of causing trouble for you if I went to your place, Yang Wanxi paused for a second. “I was cold, that’s why I bundled up so much. You really haven’t paid any attention to me these years. When have you ever seen me wear a hat and sunglasses at the airport?”
Oh, come to think of it, Bai Kou said, “Yeah, you’re right. I think I even heard Tongtong compliment your skin once.”
Yang Wanxi looked up from her phone at those words, peering through the mirror at the heartless Bai Doudou behind her.
But Bai Doudou was oblivious, and the instant their eyes met in the mirror, ding! She flashed a super bright smile. “Sneaking peeks at me?”
“Tch.” Yang Wanxi chuckled. “You’re the one sneaking peeks.”
But Yang Wanxi’s heart felt like it was being clawed wildly by a kitten.
It’s not my fault, Bai Kou. She thought. These years, I’ve clearly let go of you, but you insisted on keeping me that New Year’s Eve.
Yang Wanxi couldn’t hold back.
She stood up right then, walked in front of Bai Kou, and nudged her shoe with her foot. “Scoot over. I want to sit on the sofa too.”
Yang Wanxi sat down on the sofa.
Bai Kou leaned her entire upper body back against the sofa, hands cupping her phone. “How long do we have to wait? Our tickets are for seven thirty-five.”
Yang Wanxi quickly glanced at Bai Kou’s phone screen—the e-ticket interface was visible.
She lowered her gaze for a second in thought, rested her right hand in the middle divide of the two-seater sofa, and leaned to the right. “Seven thirty-five? I thought it was eight.”
“It’s not eight—”
Bai Kou turned her head and first saw Yang Wanxi’s face right up close, then noticed how one side of Yang Wanxi’s shirt had slipped nearly to her elbow, revealing the strap and the straight line of her collarbone beneath it.
It wasn’t a big deal at first; she was about to reach out to pull Yang Wanxi’s shirt back up.
But then Yang Wanxi’s eyes, right there up close, lifted to meet hers.
No smile, no words.
Her gaze even drifted downward obviously for a second.
“…” At that point, Bai Kou felt the atmosphere had turned a bit strange, so she raised her hand in a gesture to indicate pulling it up. “Your, this, uh.”
Mumbling that, she sat up straight and quickly returned to the previous topic. “Not eight o’clock, seven thirty-five. See.”
As she held up her phone screen for Yang Wanxi, her butt quietly shifted a bit to the right.
Yang Wanxi went from heart-pounding temptation to kiss her one second ago, to sitting up straight and pulling up her shirt while her heart still pounded with the urge to kiss her. Her head felt a little dizzy. In embarrassment, she coughed once, then no longer sat next to Bai Kou. She got up and returned to the folding chair.
They bought a bucket of popcorn at the theater.
Bai Kou lost rock-paper-scissors, so she held it.
Yang Wanxi was thrilled inside. She propped her elbow on the armrest between them and occasionally reached over with her right hand to grab a couple kernels, crunch crunch, chewing more happily than ever.
“…”
Leaving the theater, Yang Wanxi was dumbfounded. “You mean I—I ate half a bucket of popcorn by myself?”
Bai Kou pressed her lips together. “No, the whole bucket, since I didn’t have a single bite.”
Yang Wanxi raised her hand to block. “Thanks, but you really didn’t need to tell me that.”
Not long after leaving the mall, the car came to pick up Yang Wanxi. She pulled open the door, then suddenly turned to look at Bai Kou and moved her lips.
Bai Kou thought Yang Wanxi had something to say, so she obediently clasped her hands behind her back and waited.
But at that moment, some passersby gathered, their discussion loud enough to hear.
“Wow! Is that really Yang Wanxi? Has she been in Heyan lately?”
“Real or fake? Can’t see clearly. Should we get closer?”
…
Bai Kou turned and saw people pulling out their phones. For some reason—maybe her old stanning secrecy instincts kicking in—she quickly waved her hands and urgently shooed them toward the car in a low voice. “Hurry, go go go go!”
Vroom—
The car door shut.
But by now, a crowd had gathered around Bai Kou to watch the excitement, all discussing whether the person who got in was Yang Wanxi. Someone even grabbed Bai Kou. “Little sis! Is that Yang Wanxi?”
“Ah, I also—” Bai Kou was about to smile and say she didn’t know.
“Bai Kou.”
That familiar voice rang out clearly again.
Bai Kou turned in shock to see Yang Wanxi stepping right out of the car openly, greeting the passersby, signing a few autographs casually, and finally walking back to her.
“…”
Faced with Yang Wanxi’s blazing gaze, Bai Kou opened her mouth again and again, not knowing what to say.
In her flustered state, Yang Wanxi leaned in and hugged her. “Bai Kou.” Her voice whispered right by her ear. “Don’t be scared. Back then, I wasn’t brave enough. But now, and in the future, as long as you’re willing, I’m willing to let everyone know about you and me.”
“Any kind of relationship is fine.” She emphasized heavily.
Without waiting for Bai Kou’s response, Yang Wanxi let go, took Bai Kou’s hand, curved her eyes in a smile, and said, “Come on, I’ll take you home.”
…
Saturday afternoon.
“Bai Kou, over here.” Pei Yue raised her arm high.
“Why are you here so early?” Bai Kou set down her bag and brushed the rain off her jacket. “What happened to your hand? How’d it get so bad? Peipei do that?”
Pei Yue’s entire thumb web was wrapped in thick gauze, looking quite alarming.
“No.” Pei Yue smiled. “Helped out and got pawed by a red panda. It’s not serious; the clinic just bandaged it over the top.”
“Doesn’t look like just a paw.” Bai Kou leaned in, gently lifted Pei Yue’s wrist, turned it over to inspect. “Did you get a shot?”
“Yeah.” Pei Yue said. “Don’t worry. I have more experience with this than you. It’s routine. The bandage is mostly to keep out dust.”
“Mm—” Bai Kou let go and sat back down. “Alright, but don’t take it lightly. Even a small wound is still a wound.”
“Okay.” Pei Yue nodded with a smile.
Glancing at the empty table, Bai Kou stood with her phone. “Haven’t ordered yet, right? What do you want today? My treat for the patient!” She grinned and shook her phone.
Pei Yue didn’t refute the “patient” label or say no need to treat. She looked up at Bai Kou and went quiet for two seconds.
“One ice cream cone.”
“Okay, anything else?”
Pei Yue shook her head.
“Just an ice cream cone?”
“Yeah.” Pei Yue affirmed. “Just an ice cream cone.”
Bai Kou laughed. “Alright, you said it yourself.”
She ordered just one ice cream cone for Pei Yue, delivered it to the table first, then went back for burgers, fries, McChicken nuggets, cola… piling up a full tray.
“Wow.” Bai Kou sat down, rubbed her hands, showing a rare spark of childhood excitement. “So nostalgic. You really have to sit in the store to eat to get the full vibe.”
“You haven’t been in a long time?” Pei Yue asked.
Rustle rustle, Bai Kou unwrapped the burger and took a bite. “Mm,” too busy eating to do more than nod.
Pei Yue watched Bai Kou eat, her smile shifting from happy to reminiscent, then dimming in her eyes for a few seconds.
Watching Bai Kou eat made her suddenly think of Little Roll, that black-and-white kitten who was just as devout toward food, eating with such delight and focus.
She lowered her gaze. “Bai Kou, the first time we went out alone, we sat at this exact table. Do you remember?”
Pei Yue had dreamed many similar dreams alone in Boston nights. Sometimes even Bai Kou’s face was blurry, but this table always stayed crystal clear.
The person across from her was Bai Kou, or Pei Ying, or even Little Roll.
Pei Yue rested her arms on the table, watching them like a mirage.
“Yeah, I remember.”
Bai Kou grabbed a napkin and wiped her mouth. “I remember eating an ice cream cone that day too? You only had a cola. To be honest…” Not sure what funny thing she recalled, Bai Kou chuckled lightly first, then lifted her gaze. “Back then, I thought you seemed a little hard to get along with… I was about to bail…”
Pei Yue also grabbed a napkin and started folding it, not meeting Bai Kou’s eyes.
“And then? What changed your mind?”
Bai Kou smiled. “No idea. Probably fate’s invisible hand. Ever heard that song, ‘Fate Is a Bridge’? Who knows, even if we hadn’t met in middle school, we’d probably have crossed paths in high school anyway.”
Pei Yue folded the paper in her hand into a very small square. “Bai Kou, then, will you regret it?”
“Hm?”
“Regret.” She pursed her lips. “Knowing me?”
“Pfft.” Bai Kou chuckled softly. “What kind of question is that? Asking me right to my face—could I possibly say I regret it?”
Pei Yue: “……”
The next second, Bai Kou patted the back of her hand.
When she lifted her eyes, Bai Kou gazed at her with utmost seriousness.
“Pei Yue, I don’t regret it.”
“Whether it was knowing you or everything we went through together back then.”
Bai Kou placed her hand over Pei Yue’s and said gravely, “Not for a single minute or second have I ever regretted it.”
“On my eighteenth birthday, I made a wish—my third wish. They say the third one is the most efficacious, so I prayed to the gods.”
Bai Kou withdrew her hand, her gaze on Pei Yue clear and candid.
Her voice overlapped with that of her eighteen-year-old self, and they said together—
“Pei Yue, I hope everything goes well for you.”
That evening, Lu Tongtong mysteriously brought Bai Kou and Pei Yue back home. She turned on the lights: “Ta-da! Ta-da!”
A skinny little hawksbill lay in a fluffy pink cat bed, sleeping soundly.
Bai Kou: “……This is the matter of utmost urgency you mentioned?”
“Yeah.” Lu Tongtong walked to the kitten’s side, squatted down, and spread her hands. “Look at this young, fragile little life. Doesn’t that make it a matter of utmost urgency?”
Pei Yue walked past Bai Kou, squatted down, and gently stroked the kitten’s head with her fingertip. “Two months?”
“Wow, expert!” Lu Tongtong gave a thumbs-up. “About that—exact age unknown, but the hospital checkup said around two months.”
Bai Kou scratched her own cheek, then walked over and squatted beside Pei Yue. She carefully poked the kitten’s cheek with her fingertip.
As she poked, she asked Lu Tongtong, “Did you buy it?”
“No, no—this is a heaven-sent kitten.” Lu Tongtong explained. “Right after you gave Pei Yue that fridge magnet and suggested I get one too, not even two days later, I found this little one next to my car tire.”
“Oh……” Afraid her unwashed hands might dirty the kitten, Bai Kou withdrew them and rested them flat on her knees. “So what did you call us here for?”
“Teacher Pei Yue is obviously here to teach me how to care for this kitten.”
“As for you, my dear friend.”
Lu Tongtong cupped her hands together and leaned them sweetly against her cheek. “Could you draw a portrait of my kitten’s life every month?”
They stayed at Lu Tongtong’s house until nearly eleven o’clock when Bai Kou’s phone lit up with two WeChat messages—
Sister: 【Bai Kou, are you still with them? When will you come back?】
Sister: 【The power suddenly went out at home.】
