Chapter 51: “The Colors of Love” Part 1

Q: Chi Buyu! Why did you suddenly pick up your pen to start writing in your diary again?

A: Come on! This~ is ~ the ~ first ~ day ~! How could we not jot it down!

May 13th, half sunny, half rainy. Today both of us looked utterly disheveled. Our phones were dead, our makeup ruined, our clothes soaked, and the flowers were on the verge of wilting.

Cui Muhuo thought we should head home first.

I thought sometimes Chengdu’s weather was just downright infuriating. 0.0

–

She had no idea how long they’d wandered that night along unfamiliar streets. In any case, they left the old mall, splashing through moonlit puddles as they meandered aimlessly toward streets aglow with neon lights.

Cui Qijin spotted a 7-Eleven that was still open and borrowed a charger from the clerk. The clerk only had one cable, and since more people were likely trying to reach Chi Shuishui, Cui Qijin decided to charge her phone first.

When Chi Shuishui’s phone started buzzing like crazy, Cui Qijin was in the middle of wiping water droplets from the Colorful Leaf Taro’s leaves. She heard the night-shift clerk ask curiously, “How did you two end up like this?”

Cui Qijin glanced down at herself. She really was a mess—unkempt and bedraggled, like a scarecrow dredged up from a mudslide.

She looked up and caught sight of Chi Shuishui’s reflection in the convenience store’s glass door.

Chi Shuishui had her elbows propped on the counter, giggling to herself about something. Once she finished laughing, she sneakily pointed at Cui Qijin’s back and whispered to the clerk—loud enough for her to hear—

“We’re on a date~ ~”

The clerk played along with an exaggerated “Whoa!” “Out on a date in this downpour? You two are in such great spirits!”

Chi Shuishui beamed, oddly proud of their far-from-perfect evening. “And it’s our first date!”

Cui Qijin watched Chi Shuishui’s head nearly bump the clerk’s as they chattered away. How could Chi Shuishui just strike up a conversation like that with a total stranger? And about something like this… Cui Qijin still found her utterly baffling.

Before Chi Shuishui could broadcast to the world the legendary line about sharing joys and sorrows through thick and thin with metal, wood, water, fire, and earth, Cui Qijin finished poking straws into a row of Yakults. She called out from behind her, a bit awkwardly,

“Chi Buyu.”

Chi Buyu and the clerk turned at the same time. Both saw Cui Qijin standing there, holding a neat row of Yakults with their straws inserted.

Cui Qijin had no idea what was flickering in the clerk’s eyes at that moment.

But she could guess what swam in Chi Buyu’s nearly vanished crescent-moon eyes—a barrage of smug lines like, “Admit it, Cui Qijin, I knew you love me,” “It’s only day one, and you’re already hooked. 0.0,” “Girlfriend, you’re done for—you’re head over heels for me~”

In short, a total mess.

Cui Qijin picked up the hefty pot of Colorful Leaf Taro again and thought calmly that a simple row of Yakults didn’t prove who loved whom more.

Right then, Chi Buyu hopped over like a floppy-eared rabbit. She snatched the row of Yakults and, in a comically exaggerated move, lifted one of the big leaves to offer the very first sip from the very first bottle to Cui Qijin’s lips.

There was really no need to compete for the first sip.

Cui Qijin just wasn’t used to public displays like that, but Chi Buyu’s expectant gaze made her reluctantly tense her jaw and take it.

Chi Buyu cradled the Yakult, blinking her dewy lashes as she asked, “Tasty?”

Yakult all tasted the same. What made the first sip special?

That was what Cui Qijin thought.

But what came out of her mouth was, “Pretty sweet.”

Only then did Chi Buyu look satisfied. She took the second sip, smacked her lips, glanced at Cui Qijin, and mumbled around the straw with glee, “Who knew Yakult was this sweet?”

They walked out side by side, each cradling their plant.

In her peripheral vision, Cui Qijin caught her own ridiculous pose—clutching the unsurrendered flower like something straight out of a gag comic. The clerk watched them go, stifling a laugh behind her hand.

Peering through the Colorful Leaf Taro, Cui Qijin saw Chi Buyu puzzling intensely over which Yakult had been the sweetest. The sweetness lingered in her own mouth, unbidden. Cui Qijin sighed inwardly. Fine, gag comic it was…

At least Chi Buyu had given her the first sip.

–

In Cui Qijin’s original plan, the Colorful Leaf Taro was supposed to be handed over the second they exchanged greetings.

Ideally, Chi Buyu would ask where it came from. She’d say she spotted it roadside and bought it on a whim.

But…

Chi Buyu never followed her plans.

Chi Buyu had run up and hugged her the instant they finished saying hello.

Cui Qijin did have a backup plan.

If Chi Buyu so much as asked what she was doing with the plant, she could’ve given it then.

But why wouldn’t Chi Buyu ask? Didn’t a huge potted plant strike her as odd? Chi Buyu herself was the odd one.

So Cui Qijin held onto it until her arms ached.

She finally set the Colorful Leaf Taro down at the door to Chi Buyu’s home.

She straightened her sore back and at last heard Chi Buyu ask, “Cui Muhuo, why’d you carry this plant all night?”

She’d finally asked.

Cui Qijin felt a wave of exhaustion. She heard her own patient reply: “Saw it roadside. Bought it on a whim.”

“Oh,” said Chi Buyu. She tugged at a leaf edge. “Chengdu sells pretty Colorful Leaf Taros like this?”

There it was again.

That feeling.

Chi Buyu’s eyes seemed to mock her—you love me so much, Cui Muhuo, why won’t you admit it?

“Fine.”

Cui Qijin threw in the towel and expanded on the truth just a fraction, as succinctly as possible.

“I bought it while passing through on a business trip in Thailand. Meant it as an opening gift for you at first, then regretted it.”

“Why didn’t you give it sooner!”

Chi Buyu’s tone held a hint of dissatisfaction.

But before Cui Qijin could respond,

Chi Buyu scooped the plant up from the floor herself. She squinted at it carefully, studying every detail. A happy huff escaped her nose—visible joy radiating outward, like a little butterfly fluttering from her eyes. It circled solemnly before her as she declared sternly,

“No more of that from now on, you hear me!”

Chi Buyu could be surprisingly fierce.

Cui Qijin found herself oddly captivated by the little butterfly. She cleared her throat to show she’d heard, then glanced toward the closed door and the elevator.

“Then I’m heading out?”

She meant it as a statement, but it came out as a question. She was surprised at herself.

“Okay,” said Chi Buyu.

Half of Chi Buyu’s face was obscured by the Colorful Leaf Taro’s leaves, her expression shadowy and indistinct.

“Take good care of it,” Cui Qijin instructed. “Don’t let it die on you again.”

Chi Buyu’s voice went flat. “Mm.”

Cui Qijin had nothing left to say. She added, “I’m going now,” and turned to leave.

But she’d only half-turned when a loud “Cui Muhuo—” rang out behind her.

It startled her badly.

She whipped around on instinct.

Through the swaying pink fronds, she saw Chi Buyu’s face peeking out from behind—

The hallway light was dim. Chi Buyu clutched the plant, looking utterly aggrieved. She wore an oversized lotus-pink hoodie, sleeves pulled long over her hands. Her cheeks were puffed out, and her eyes shimmered with unshed tears—like a deeply wronged pink fish on the verge of squatting in a corner to curse her out.

Cui Qijin braced to wrack her brain for whatever mistake she’d made.

But her mind barely turned before—

Chi Buyu set the plant down. She spread her arms wide, as if to embrace a massive mango, and lifted her chin aggressively.

“You’re not leaving without a hug.”

Stunned, Cui Qijin had no choice but to step closer.

Under the witness of the nearly half-year-nurtured Colorful Leaf Taro, she drew near—and tumbled into Chi Buyu’s waiting arms like a hugged mango, rolling bit by bit into the embrace.

Chi Buyu pinned both her hands tight, pressed her own face snug against Cui Qijin’s shoulders. Cui Qijin had never experienced a hug like this—like being trussed up.

Cui Qijin threw in the towel once more.

But she remembered Chi Buyu saying she wanted a hug.

So she laboriously lifted her own arms and wrapped them around Chi Buyu’s slender back, patting it lightly and naturally.

When had back-patting during their hugs become this instinctive? Cui Qijin thought, feeling distinctly unnatural.

Now Chi Buyu was finally satisfied.

She rubbed her smeared makeup all over Cui Qijin’s jacket with abandon, mumbling, “That’s more like it.”

Then she tipped her chin up, nudging Cui Qijin’s collarbone now and then. Her fingertips poked at Cui Qijin’s back in the same sporadic way as she issued a solemn warning:

“Next time, you initiate. Don’t make me have to ask!”

“Got it,” said Cui Qijin.

Afterward, she suddenly wanted to laugh. Afraid Chi Buyu would catch her stifling it, she tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling.

Chi Buyu noticed and prodded her chin gently in protest. She was grinning like an idiot herself but feigned a scolding tone:

“What are you laughing about, endlessly?”

Cui Qijin finally burst out laughing. So much had happened that night. Her clothes hung heavy and sodden, her arms ached too much to lift easily. She felt tired, lazy.

“No laughing here, Chi Buyu, Chi Buyu.”

“Yeah right, Cui Qijin, Cui Qijin.”

“You should head inside, Chi Buyu, Chi Buyu.”

“You should go home, Cui Qijin, Cui Qijin.”

“I know, Chi Buyu, Chi Buyu.”

“I can’t invite you in tonight, Cui Qijin, Cui Qijin.”

“Why?”

She’d simply failed to register Chi Buyu bringing it up out of nowhere.

In the end, Chi Buyu rubbed her face embarrassedly against Cui Qijin’s shoulder, rolling it around once before lifting her head and peeking at her with one eye.

“That’s way too fast!”

No sooner had she said it than she quickly hid her face again.

It took Cui Qijin a moment to catch on to what Chi Buyu meant. She laughed so hard she could barely stand straight, clutching what felt like a lively, jumping heart—wet and soft, thump-thump, thump-thump, pounding against her one beat at a time.

It was as if it belonged to her alone.

But could there really be something on this earth that belonged only to her?