Q: Do you still want a kiss?
A: No way! No way! No way!
–
“No way!”
Chi Buyu suddenly shouted.
The rider on the highway bike that had been circling this street startled and slammed on the brakes.
The bike’s owner dragged the nearly falling-apart bicycle over, still shaken as he stared at the two girls standing by the roadside. He muttered, “How is it still you two?”
The flashing red heart-shaped taillight appeared again. Chi Buyu reacted a beat late and noticed that Cui Qijin seemed startled by her yell too, her lips pressing together slightly.
“What’s impossible?”
“Well—” Chi Buyu buried half her face in her scarf, her ears bright red.
Her gaze involuntarily flicked to Cui Qijin’s mouth again. Those naturally parted red lips, the scab on her Cupid’s bow carrying a decadent, sensual allure.
It was especially eye-catching.
She clamped her mouth shut, suddenly at a loss for words. She rubbed her chin, buried in the scarf.
Then she spoke at lightning speed.
“Don’t forget to apply medicine and drink water when you get home. Keep your mouth from opening too wide. My cousin’s calling me. Gotta head upstairs. Bye.”
Her words came out flat and emotionless.
She bolted across the street without looking back at Cui Qijin’s reaction. She felt like she must look like a penguin clumsily pawing at snow in Cui Qijin’s eyes.
As she climbed the stairs, thump-thump-thump, she caught sight of someone reflected in the small round mirror on the worn stairwell wall. She stopped unconsciously.
She stared at her blurry reflection in the round mirror.
Her ears were so red. She bit her lip anxiously, replaying whether she’d looked unattractive just now, if her voice had been too loud again.
She’d probably scared Cui Qijin again.
Her voice tended to get loud when her emotions ran high—a habit from childhood when she’d imitated her mom speaking without realizing it. As she grew up and gained some self-awareness, she’d overheard adults teasing, “Shuishui, you know what they say: refined people speak softly.”
Later, her aunt had shot back at those adults with an eye roll: “What’s it to you?”
Even so, she’d felt deeply aggrieved and started controlling her volume. Sometimes she still slipped up, like now.
The little round mirror on the wall had been stuck there who-knows-when, its surface foggy and yellowed. Chi Buyu could still make out her flushed face.
She instinctively lifted her gloved hands.
Then she noticed the wet stains from snow slush on the damp gloves. She froze for a moment, took off the gloves, and found her hands inside damp from the melted snow—cool to the touch.
But still fairly clean.
She cupped her red, hot face with both hands and slowly climbed the stairs. But she couldn’t help recalling the sensation of knuckles brushing her nose tip—cool at first, then quickly gone. It couldn’t really be called gentle, but…
“Shuishui?”
Her cousin’s voice rang out abruptly.
Chi Buyu looked up in a panic and saw You Ying about to see a uniformed repairman down the stairs.
“Ying-jie…” She let go of her face and called out dazedly.
“Mm-hmm~” You Ying responded, chatted a few more words with the repairman, then waited until he carried his toolbox downstairs before coming over to pat her head.
“Standing in the doorway lost in thought?”
She poked Chi Buyu’s cheek with her gaze. “Your face is still so red?”
“Nah~”
Chi Buyu dodged her eyes, hooked her arm through You Ying’s, and tilted her chin up coquettishly.
“I was just wondering—how come you showed up here all of a sudden?”
“What, after studying in Hong Kong for half a year, you come back yelling about moving out for independence and becoming a career woman, and now you won’t even let me peek at your studio?” You Ying glanced at her.
“Or have you been secretly dating behind my back?”
“No way!” Chi Buyu retorted. “You know I’m a staunch single-forever advocate. I don’t date!”
You Ying sighed. “I really don’t get it. You’re young, at the perfect age for romance, so why insist on this single-forever nonsense?”
Chi Buyu pressed her lips tight and said nothing.
“Alright, alright, no more on that.” You Ying patted her shoulder.
They took a few steps into the freshly tidied studio. You Ying pointed to a cardboard box in the corner.
“You rushed off to Hong Kong so suddenly before. This is that stuff you asked me to store safely so your mom wouldn’t rummage through it.”
“I’ve packed it up for you. Since it seemed so important, I figured you’d want to keep it close, but with no space here, I was going to take it home and hold onto it properly.”
As Chi Buyu shuffled slowly over, You Ying asked, “So where are you living now? Found a place?”
“I did, but Ranran fought with her classmate Chen Wenran and they broke up. Ranran asked me to stay with her for a few days, so I’m crashing at her place for now.”
Chi Buyu turned her back to You Ying, squatting to check the box’s contents while answering obediently.
“That’s a relief, at least. You two together puts my mind a bit more at ease.” You Ying stared at the back of her head and sighed. “You’ve never lived alone your whole life. You moving out so suddenly—your mom and dad aren’t used to it, and neither am I. The other day I brought Little Gold over for dinner, and your mom knocked on your door forever. When she opened it and saw that big bear on your bed…”
“She zoned out for ages, muttering about you sleeping alone outside—whether you’d be scared, if anyone would turn on SpongeBob SquarePants for you if you got sick, and your night blindness…”
Chi Buyu hefted the box onto the worktable, her cheeks puffed out like a goldfish, full of worry.
“Then why didn’t Mom say anything when I called yesterday? Instead, she accused me of being heartless.”
“You know her—sharp-tongued but soft-hearted.” You Ying patted Chi Buyu’s puffed cheek.
“But don’t worry too much. She’ll get used to it soon. Call her more often, visit, and she’ll be happy.”
Chi Buyu stared at the box and nodded vigorously. “Okay.”
You Ying added, “The other aunts and my mom too—they had a whole hour-long meeting with your mom the other day, discussing why you suddenly moved out. They all worried you’d been duped by some guy.”
From this angle, she could only see Chi Buyu’s tense jaw as she stared at the box, her red lips pressed thin. After a few seconds, Chi Buyu said,
“How could that happen? I don’t even like guys.”
You Ying hummed in agreement, nodding. But she couldn’t help pressing on. “And Sister An and the others—if you’ve run into any trouble lately, or problems…”
“No matter what, it’s just a word. Any of us sisters can back you up. We’re all scared you’re dealing with something alone and not telling us.”
“Nope.” Chi Buyu said.
After a moment, her topknot bobbed as she added, “Okay, I’ll tell the sisters.”
Promising so readily?
Hadn’t she spent the last two years insisting on independence and not relying on family?
You Ying eyed her suspiciously and found Chi Buyu lost in a daze, staring blankly at an old phone in the box.
She followed her gaze.
It was a white iPhone 5s, screen shattered, pitch-black and crisscrossed with cracks—terrifying to look at.
The camera spot still had an outdated sticker: a yellow SpongeBob SquarePants wearing a red Santa hat, cheeks puffed as he blew a massive starfish bubble.
Quintessentially nostalgic, the translucent film wrinkled and peeling, no stickiness left.
Old things always carried an inevitable scent that inexplicably stirred wistful memories.
It was as if this old phone held a 3G-era tale—QQ Spaces that never paused updating; crumpled concert ticket stub photos; gaudy framed purikura stickers on the back cover…
Stare a little longer, and Sun Yanzi might pop out, her clear voice singing “What I Miss.”
“Were iPhone 5s screens always this small?”
You Ying glanced a few times, suddenly amazed. She reached out instinctively to pick it up. “Right, what year was this from again?”
But before she finished, the phone stayed out of reach.
Then—bang!
Chi Buyu slammed the box shut, abruptly hiding the broken-screened iPhone 5s.
She looked up flustered, meeting You Ying’s slightly raised eyebrow, and mumbled vaguely,
“Uh… 2013, I think.”
“Really?” You Ying slowly withdrew her hand from midair. “2013—you remember that clearly?”
“Nah, just the phone from my senior year of high school.” Chi Buyu pressed her warm palms tight against the closed box, blinked, and abruptly changed the subject.
“Oh, right, sis… what was that repair guy here for?”
Chi Buyu had beautiful eyes.
Clear whites, defined lines, the outer corners drooping just a touch. Her two dark, bright irises resembled plump, sweet-tart black plums full of juice.
When she tilted her face up to look at someone, they seemed especially healthy and pretty. They always tricked people into softening easily.
And made it all the more pitying.
You Ying had been her big sister for years, yet she still melted at those dewy eyes and let Chi Buyu steer the conversation effortlessly.
She sighed, chose not to press, grabbed Chi Buyu’s wrist instead, and decisively flicked the nearby light switch. She got down to business.
“Didn’t you tell your mom yesterday on the phone that the studio light seemed busted? I was right there, so since I was coming over with stuff today, I figured I’d call a repairman to check.”
You Ying switched off the studio light.
Chi Buyu looked up instinctively, staring blankly at where the ceiling fixture should be in her memory—but saw nothing.
Then the light flicked back on with a snap. Only then did she make out You Ying’s face.
You Ying smiled under the bright light, patted her head, and said,
“Turns out it was fine when we got here. The guy said it was just the bulb. It’s a new one now, good quality—no need to replace it…”
“So our Shuishui can change lightbulbs herself now. You’ve really grown up, huh?”
The room’s bright, warm glow cast a hazy yellow mist over the snow outside the window. Chi Buyu blinked hard.
“But just a little grown up.” You Ying furrowed her brow slightly.
“I’ve told you so many times—your night blindness is serious, so keep it in mind. I walk in and see you’ve got the curtains pulled so tight.
What if you wake from a nap and can’t see, bump into something? Remember senior year in high school, when night blindness made you fall and nearly scar your face?”
Chi Buyu bit her lip. “Actually, I only have a little bit of night blindness…”
“You still need to be careful,” You Ying replied, clearly unhappy with her rebuttal.
Chi Buyu nodded obediently. “Got it.”
She tilted her head back a little, rubbing her chin against the scarf. Her gaze fell on the new bulb inside the chandelier, its filament glowing with a scorching yellow light that felt warm and inviting.
She sniffed, her nose a touch chilly.
Yet her mind seemed ensnared by those tangled, glowing filaments, dragging her thoughts soulfully back to that morning—
After Cui Qijin had left, arms full of clothes.
A long moment passed, and the studio fell utterly quiet, dim and lifeless. Chi Buyu huddled on the single bed.
She rolled her face back and forth across the pillow, her mind still foggy and half-asleep, as if she hadn’t quite booted up yet.
Everything around her felt pitch black, like thick motor oil oozing through the air. She stared blankly for a moment, raked a hand through her tangled hair, rubbed her stiff face, and fumbled for the light switch at the bedside.
She pressed it. Nothing happened.
It took her sluggish brain a beat to register—the lamp had been out since yesterday.
People with night blindness struggled in low light, and even her mild, acquired case left her vision blurry after dark.
In the beginning, she’d bumped into things all the time because of it. Over time, though, she’d grown accustomed to the heavy darkness and could navigate with just the faintest glow.
But right now…
Chi Buyu extended her toes cautiously, probing for the carpet below the bed.
Before her foot could touch down, slow, dragging footsteps echoed from the doorway. She yanked her leg back in a hurry.
She froze for a moment, then flopped around like a fish out of water, kicking this way and that.
In a frantic rush, she shoved aside the balled-up quilt—rolled tight like a silver-thread pastry—and squinted into the oppressive gloom.
It was probably about the same as before, right?
With that thought, she squeezed her eyes shut in nervous dread. But the footsteps halted. For a good while, nothing else stirred, leaving only the thunderous pounding of her startled heart in the air.
She pressed her lips together tightly.
All at once, she felt certain she must look a fright: unwashed face, hair in wild disarray, just roused from sleep—who knew if her cheeks were puffy or if she had a double chin?
Sprawled out all crooked like this, there was no grace to her at all…
Lost in her spiraling thoughts, she heard the door handle turn from the outside. Had Cui Qijin forgotten to lock it? But Cui Qijin was the type to map out her entire life plan down to the sixtieth year before even being born—how could she be so careless?
Chi Buyu wondered, eyes clamped shut.
Then soft footsteps padded into the room. She subtly tucked in her chin to avoid any hint of a double one, flipped over stiffly, straightened her legs, and arranged her hands neatly on the pillow…
She figured she was adjusting her posture quite naturally.
But it still didn’t feel right, and if she fidgeted too much, Cui Qijin would surely get suspicious.
—Chi Buyu thought with a touch of melancholy.
Cui Qijin didn’t approach the bed, though. Instead, faint rustling sounds filled the room.
It sounded like she was moving a chair, or maybe taking something apart, but she kept the noises hushed and restrained, clearly trying not to wake her.
Sneaky as a thief.
—Chi Buyu thought sneakily.
She couldn’t hold back any longer. Pretending to shift in her sleep, she rubbed her face against the pillow as if dreaming.
Cui Qijin paused.
Chi Buyu held perfectly still. Half a minute ticked by before the rustling resumed.
She slowed her breathing to a crawl.
The next instant, her sealed-off world brightened just a fraction, a faint glow seeping through her thin eyelids.
Unable to resist, she cracked her eyes open halfway. At first, her vision was murky as lake depths, but it gradually sharpened. Through the hazy drape of hanging clothes, she spotted a creaky wooden chair positioned under the chandelier. The gray-blue sheet blocked half her view, but there was Cui Qijin, back again—
Bundled loosely in a bulky cotton coat she hadn’t bothered to zip up, her hair a wild mess with no semblance of style, her pale face etched only with exhaustion and impatience…
She held a brand-new bulb in one hand and was twisting it into the chandelier. She must have just secured it, because the light flickered on abruptly. Caught off guard by the brightness, Cui Qijin squinted hard, her movements freezing in place.
A few seconds later, she recovered and seemed about to glance Chi Buyu’s way.
Chi Buyu snapped her eyes shut and endured several agonizing breaths. She heard the twisting continue and risked peeking with one eye.
Luckily, Cui Qijin hadn’t noticed.
Her lips pressed tight in concentration, she focused on screwing the bulb in firmly before bending down to step off the chair.
Her long lashes fluttered once. A smudge of gray from her hands dusted the tip of her nose. She looked rather disheveled.
She seemed aware of the dirt on her face, her expression one of clear disgust. She raised a hand to wipe it but hesitated midair.
She stared at her dusty hand for a long moment.
Her distaste deepened until, at last, she snatched up the old bulb. Amid the puff of dust, she cast a casual glance in Chi Buyu’s direction.
Panicking, Chi Buyu pretended to roll over and buried her face deep in the pillow. She didn’t stir until the footsteps receded.
Cui Qijin drifted out on light, airy steps.
Chi Buyu finally exhaled. She blinked open her eyes in a daze, then slowly again, fixating on the light switch just within reach by the bed.
After a while, she stretched out her numb arm and pressed it.
Click. The light went out, plunging her vision back into that thick darkness.
Click. The light blazed on again…
The new bulb shone boldly, banishing every trace of last night’s murky chaos and crystallizing the single thought lingering in Chi Buyu’s mind—
In broad daylight, why on earth had this woman come back just to change her light bulb?
