Cui Qijin stared at the group name—【Love Idiot Kissing Battle】.
What the hell kind of name was that?
And why were there only three of them in it?
Cui Qijin frowned and sent a question mark. In response, Chen Wenran fired off a voice message that dragged on forever: “Cui Qijin, when are you going to show some initiative—”
Yu Chenxing had even accused her of turning neurotic after starting to date. But the one who clearly wanted to date was Yu Chenxing herself, and yet Chen Wenran was even more unhinged, dragging them into a group chat just to watch the drama unfold.
Cui Qijin hadn’t planned to say anything else.
But right before she could leave the group, she spotted Ran Yan in the member list. Ran Yan, Chi Shuishui’s best friend from university days all the way to now—practically Chi Shuishui’s third eye.
After a moment’s hesitation, Cui Qijin let out a sigh.
In the end, she didn’t leave.
Because of Chi Shuishui, she had to put up with this idiotic group name cluttering up her WeChat interface. She didn’t even entirely disagree with the phrase “love idiot.”
That’s why, when she saw Chen Wenran post next: 【When’s your next date?】
Cui Qijin replied: 【Tomorrow.】
Chen Wenran popped up with an exclamation mark and started frantically @-ing Ran Yan. Ran Yan hadn’t appeared yet—probably dragged in out of nowhere by Chen Wenran, just like her.
Chen Wenran then launched into a one-woman show in the trio chat, rambling on about all sorts of nonsense. She seemed genuinely worried that Cui Qijin wouldn’t know what to do and Chi Shuishui would end up running off. It all boiled down to one earnestly advising line:
【Remember to buy flowers for your girlfriend on the date!】
Cui Qijin propped her phone under her chin, imagining herself standing on a street corner clutching a massive bouquet of roses as she waited. It felt even more awkward than standing there holding that pot of colorful leaf taro.
After a blank-faced moment of consideration, she typed into the group:
【We’ll see.】
Then she went to message Chi Buyu—but before she could send anything, a message popped up from Chi Buyu:
【Cui Muhuo, I forgot I have to head to the factory tomorrow to check on a big shipment. I’ll be super late getting back! What do I do! What do I do! What do I do!】
Three “what do I dos,” four exclamation points.
She sounded panicked.
And she wasn’t stopping.
After that one, two more “what do I dos” popped up, followed by a barrage of random cat, dog, and penguin stickers.
Cui Qijin was trying to squeeze a word in edgewise amid all the chaos.
But then Chi Buyu must have hit the wrong button, because a Loopy sticker suddenly appeared in the chat—a Loopy wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and winking, chin raised with a crooked grin. The caption read:
【Just wait obediently for this lady to come kiss you to death!】
Cui Qijin’s eyelid twitched.
Suddenly the screen froze—one second, two seconds, three…
Chi Buyu started spamming stickers like mad—
Cui Qijin watched the ugly cats, dogs, and penguins bouncing around. The vibrations left her palms numb, like she’d gripped a coconut candy that had exploded into powder all at once, crackling away. She laughed so hard the bed started shaking with her. After Chi Buyu had unleashed what felt like a hundred stickers, Cui Qijin finally managed to wedge in a message:
【Chi Buyu.】
Tucked in among the sticker onslaught, Chi Buyu replied: 【What!!?】
Still laughing uncontrollably, Cui Qijin sent the two ideas she’d come up with:
【We can reschedule, or I can wait for you.】
Chi Buyu’s sticker bombardment finally ground to a halt. Cui Qijin figured she’d be squirming shyly on her end. Sure enough, the “other person typing…” indicator lingered for over twenty seconds before Chi Buyu’s message appeared:
【Then I’m wearing a red dress.】
【Hee hee.】
Cui Qijin thought the sticker war was finally over and sent back a simple 【OK】. But her 【OK】 landed right after the sticker Chi Buyu had just sent, turning the exchange into:
Chi Shuishui: 【Just wait obediently for this lady to come kiss you to death!.jpg】
Cui Qijin: 【OK.】
?
Cui Qijin’s jaw clenched. She figured Chi Buyu was about to unleash another sticker storm.
But a full minute passed.
No response from Chi Buyu.
Who knew what she was waiting for.
Cui Qijin waited patiently. About two minutes later, Chi Buyu’s message finally popped up:
【Hmph.】
【Can’t take it back now, can you?】
【Dancing Cow Cat GIF】
【Cui Muhuo, you’re～com～plete～ly～hel～pless～now～!】
They ended up chatting almost until midnight again that night. Cui Qijin’s sleep schedule had been wrecked countless times before. At three in the morning, an hour after they finally signed off, she tossed and turned in bed. In a fit of jittery nerves, she sat up, grabbed her phone, and scrolled back through those wavy tildes, clutching her still-thumping heart. It pounded against the Cui Qijin universe she’d so carefully built over the years—like a tiny Chi Shuishui rampaging inside, grinning wickedly as she slammed into the walls, smugly informing her of one undeniable truth—
Cui Qijin, face it: you’re completely helpless.
–
The utterly helpless Cui Qijin spent the whole night wondering what to wear to match Chi Buyu’s red dress.
May 17th. The weather forecast called for light rain in Chengdu.
Chi Buyu got back from the factory even later than expected.
Around 10:40 p.m., she messaged that she might not arrive until eleven.
Cui Qijin, sporting dark circles that hung down to her chin, had dug a black dress out of her closet. Before heading out, she felt a chill and threw on a flower-gray cardigan hoodie over it. Chen Wenran had said she looked like the stubborn, aloof heroine from some artsy lesbian film—the kind who’d get pinned against a damp, icy wall by the other lead, chin gripped as she was kissed until her lipstick smeared and her eyes glazed over. Cui Qijin couldn’t help it; she left the group.
10:50 p.m.
Cui Qijin arrived at Love Adrift Street. No matter what, she always liked to arrive early.
By this hour, Love Adrift Street had quieted down. Most shops had closed, and the night market held only a few late-night food stalls glowing like yellow fireflies. The Love Adrift crew was filming at the Mango Store spot with a few camera setups, but it all looked pretty desolate.
As Cui Qijin stepped over some bay laurel leaves, she noticed a girl with a ponytail—probably a college student moonlighting—selling fresh flowers from a stall. A sign read: 10 yuan a bunch.
Cui Qijin schooled her expression and looked away, hands shoved in her hoodie pockets, strolling past as if she hadn’t seen a thing.
10:55 p.m.
She looped back along the dark asphalt path, carefully hiking up her skirt, and crouched down to pick out the freshest, prettiest bunches—yellow roses, pink roses, scented ice roses, Love’s roses…
She politely had them wrapped and paid.
The stall girl was a pro at drawing in customers. As she handed over the flowers, she said in a deliberately whiny tone,
“I just can’t figure out who would make such a pretty big sis come deliver flowers in person.”
Normally, Cui Qijin wouldn’t have responded.
But today felt different. That little Chi Shuishui in her heart was still battering away. Clutching the vibrant, fresh bouquet, she rose slowly. A green cab sped by on the street, tousling her hair. The stall girl caught a faint smile at Cui Qijin’s eye corner, spreading like bay laurel leaves lifted by the wind.
“Someone even prettier.”
Cui Qijin said simply.
She turned, and a green cab pulled up ten meters away. Chi Buyu hopped out in a burgundy red dress, like a gorgeous tropical dragonfly. One hand cradled a riotously colorful bouquet of flowers; the other struggled to shut the door.
The instant Chi Buyu turned and saw Cui Qijin, her eyes crinkled shut with a grin.
Cui Qijin ambled toward her, step by step. Chi Buyu’s squinted smile made her burst out laughing too.
But she quickly turned her face away so Chi Buyu wouldn’t see her grinning for no reason. She held it in with effort, glanced back at Chi Buyu—and dissolved into laughter again.
It was so pointless, so silly. Maybe it was just because Chi Buyu was laughing, so she wanted to laugh too.
Chi Buyu let out a “pfft” of laughter, clutching her skirt hem carefully as she approached, the leaf-edge ruffles fluttering like a Disney princess making a getaway.
They weren’t in any rush. They didn’t sprint toward each other for a dramatic hug like in some idol drama. Instead, they walked slowly, closing the distance step by step.
The green cab drove off, the wind whipping their skirts. When they finally met, it felt like all of Love Adrift Street had faded away, leaving only a breeze swirling around them.
“Cui Muhuo.”
Chi Buyu called out, beaming, and shoved her handful of flowers into Cui Qijin’s arms. She tapped at her nonexistent watch and said,
“I’m not late today, okay～?”
Today, Chi Shuishui’s “Chi” wasn’t for “late.” Cui Qijin didn’t reply right away.
She handed Chi Buyu the flowers she’d just bought, pressing her surging heart against Chi Buyu’s across the two carefully chosen bouquets.
She pulled Chi Buyu into a hug, patted her back, and said,
“Then you’re awesome.”
She had no idea how Chi Buyu’s day had really gone.
Had she worn that princess-perfect dress to the factory that morning, drawing stares left and right? Or changed into work clothes and brought the dress along to avoid messing it up?
Had she spent the neon-lit night in that red dress, grinning foolishly as she clutched this eye-catching bouquet, weaving through the streets of the entire city—drawing gazes from passersby, making even that stall girl sigh in wonder:
What kind of person could make someone so beautiful rush over, full of joy, just to deliver flowers?
“Cui Muhuo.” Chi Buyu called her again, suddenly.
“Hm?” Cui Qijin responded. So this was the person—herself.
“You look so pretty today.” Chi Buyu nuzzled her chin against Cui Qijin’s neck, then poked her smugly on purpose and said,
“You must be totally head over heels for me, right?”
Cui Qijin shook with laughter in Chi Buyu’s arms, hugging her even tighter. A few cars streaked past like rainbows. Chi Buyu’s soft hair tips brushed her ear, and she admitted helplessly,
“Yeah, and you look gorgeous today too.”
–
Tonight, Love Adrift Street felt especially deserted.
The two of them were dressed like this—one in a black skirt, the other in a red one. Passersby might have thought they were heading to walk a red carpet. In reality, with the hour so late, they were simply holding hands and strolling down Lost-in-Love Street, much like high school sweethearts sneaking out after evening study hall for some early romance.
They even stopped by that familiar 7-Eleven they’d visited so many times before. Casually, they grabbed the last two sandwiches that Cui Qijin deemed fresh enough, then sat at the strip table by the door and turned them into their date-night dinner.
Cui Qijin ate in tiny bites, afraid it would upset her stomach. Chi Buyu started off trying to play it cool, pecking at hers like a little bird. Cui Qijin cut straight through it. “Chi Buyu, you don’t have to pretend.”
Chi Buyu got huffy at that. She chomped down viciously twice, leaving Cui Qijin’s sandwich barely half intact. Then, with chin held high in smug triumph, she narrowed her eyes like a cat and drawled, “How’s that!”
Cui Qijin wiped the sauce from the corner of Chi Buyu’s mouth, then took a small bite right where her girlfriend had bitten. She let out a sigh. “Chi Buyu, you are so childish.”
Chi Buyu bristled. “Oh yeah? As if you’re that much more mature!”
Cui Qijin replied, “I’m not comparing.”
Chi Buyu scoffed. “Well, I’m not comparing with you.”
Tonight’s night-shift clerk at the 7-Eleven must have been new. He had no idea that this street often saw two women dropping by to do all sorts of quirky things—like buying out every pretty candy in sight. Or, like now, one dressed like the stubborn, aloof heroine of an art film, the other like a princess who’d escaped from Disney, both munching sandwiches while their bickering somehow felt utterly intimate.
Right in the middle of their squabble—
Chi Buyu suddenly sighed. “Forget it.”
Cui Qijin sensed something off. “Forget what?”
Chi Buyu glanced at her with exaggerated drama, propping her cheek on one hand as she chewed away. “You’re the one putting up with me.”
Cui Qijin knew Chi Buyu was off to the races again.
She set down her sandwich and crossed her arms. “How am I putting up with anything?”
Chi Buyu sighed dramatically.
“If I had any real skills, why else would you be dressed so beautifully and stuck eating nearly expired sandwiches on the roadside with me?”
