Chapter 53: The Caged Bird Infected with a Vicious Disease (8)

Bai Qian noticed Jian Wanqing’s surprised glance but didn’t return it. “Little Nian, introduce them.”

Yu Niannian spoke up right on cue, perfectly in sync. “They’re both my moms.”

The cluster of little girls around her froze for a moment.

Then they shrugged it off and kept chatting away.

“So how do you usually call your two moms? Both just ‘Mom’?”

“Probably Big Mom and Second Mom, right?”

Jian Wanqing’s heart, which she’d been holding high from all the tension, finally settled when she realized the girl hadn’t gotten drenched in the rain.

A flurry of questions shattered the moment. One little girl gaped, her eyes doubling in size. “Niannian, can girls have babies with girls? Your moms are amazing!”

The others immediately dissolved into laughter.

“You must’ve studied yourself stupid!”

“Duh, dummy!”

They bantered back and forth until the sports day finally kicked off.

Neither Jian Wanqing nor Bai Qian were exactly athletic types, but Yu Niannian didn’t care about winning or losing. She just loved being together with her family.

Even coming dead last in every event, her smile beamed brighter than ever.

Once sports day wrapped up, the three of them wandered around the school grounds.

Jian Wanqing had brought her Polaroid camera along. After snapping plenty of solo shots of today’s star, she spotted the artificial lake nearby—it made a perfect backdrop. She shooed Yu Niannian over and nudged Bai Qian along too.

“You two wait right there. I’ll grab someone to take a group photo of us.”

Right on cue, she spotted one of Yu Niannian’s friends approaching from a short distance away.

Jian Wanqing had picked up the girl’s name from the earlier chatter among the kids. She called out tentatively, “Little Tang, could you come over and take a picture for the three of us?”

Liu Yutang—who’d probably never been called that before—stared at her with barely a flicker of expression, then pointed at herself in the least confused way possible.

“Yeah, that’s you. Come take a family photo for us?”

The girl didn’t say a word, but she obediently walked over.

She didn’t bother posing them or coaxing smiles with something cheesy like “How sweet is the watermelon?” She simply raised the camera, stone-faced.

Before any of them could react, she’d already lowered it.

Yu Niannian walked over with a suspicious look and took the Polaroid from her hand. After a moment, the image sharpened into focus.

Jian Wanqing leaned in to see and let out an impressed sigh. “Wow, that’s a fantastic shot, Little Tang. You’re great at sports and photography too? You’re incredible.”

Liu Yutang murmured a flat “Thanks.”

Her cool, detached tone splashed over the warm vibe Jian Wanqing had been building like a bucket of ice water.

Yu Niannian was used to it by now. Worried the woman might take it personally, she quickly explained, “Auntie Jian, she just doesn’t talk much. It’s not about you—don’t let it get to you.”

Jian Wanqing smiled and ruffled the little girl’s hair. “No worries, I get it. Hey, I’ve got one last sheet of photo paper. Why don’t you and Little Tang stand right there? I’ll take a picture of you two together. You’re graduating next year, and who knows if you’ll end up at the same middle school. Might as well make some memories now.”

“Nah, no need. She doesn’t like having her picture taken. Last time a classmate brought a camera, she flat-out refused everyone. Just give me the camera, Auntie Jian. You and Godmother haven’t gotten one yet. I’ll take yours.”

“Oh? Doesn’t like photos, huh.” Jian Wanqing felt a twinge of regret but nodded understandingly. She handed over the camera. “Alright then, but you have to make me look good. I wanna use it as my phone wallpaper.”

Yu Niannian reached out with a grin to take it—but another hand got there first. Its owner said simply, “Take it.”

Jian Wanqing fiddled with angles until she found the perfect one, where the light hit just right and framed their outlines beautifully.

“Little Tang, this is a rare shot of you and Little Nian. Give us a smile.”

The stone-faced girl paused for several seconds before her lips curved in the faintest hint of one.

Jian Wanqing nailed the moment, pressing the shutter and capturing that fleeting warmth perfectly.

While they waited for the photo to develop, she remembered Yu Niannian’s earlier words and pulled out her phone, handing it over. “Okay, Little Nian, now take one of me and your godmother. Same deal—make it pretty.”

Jian Wanqing stood side by side with Bai Qian, the lake at their backs and her beloved right beside her.

The scent of the lake water mingled with the woman’s faint fragrance, filling her nostrils and easing the tension from her entire body.

Suddenly, Jian Wanqing turned toward Bai Qian.

She called out to her.

The woman tilted her head, her gaze as serene as a tranquil lake—deep and alluring. Slanting rays of light pierced the air, striking her exquisite profile and cleaving that lake-like depth in two.

As if bewitched, Jian Wanqing leaned in without thinking.

Her lips paused just a finger’s breadth from the other’s.

She snapped back to her senses. Their bodies were nearly pressed together, and she instinctively tried to pull away—

But an arm wrapped around her waist. Just as she had gripped the other’s hand moments before, Bai Qian took the initiative once more, pressing her lips to Jian Wanqing’s.

“Miss Jian, congratulations. You’re official now.”

The kiss wasn’t passionate.

It was just a light brush against her lips before the hand at her waist let go.

Yu Niannian caught the exact moment of their kiss.

She didn’t mind them flaunting their affection in front of her—in fact, she felt a touch of relief. After so long, she was finally witnessing it firsthand.

Jian Wanqing paid no attention to the photo anymore. In disbelief, she clutched Bai Qian’s hand and pressed her urgently. “I didn’t mishear you, right? You agreed to date me? Bai Qian! Right? Right?”

Her voice wasn’t quiet—at the very least, Yu Niannian heard it clearly.

Hesitating, she asked, “Auntie Jian, did you just say Godma agreed to date you?”

Jian Wanqing’s expression changed. This situation felt even more terrifying than the last time.

In a panic, she tugged at the woman’s hand and finally heard her reply. “Little Nian, you misheard me.”

Jian Wanqing: ?

No fib this time?

Yu Niannian locked eyes with her dear godma for two seconds, then innocently chose to believe her.

“Should we head home? Godma, I want bullfrog for dinner. Can we go get some?”

Bai Qian replied, “Sure, but we need to stop by the hospital first.”

Resigned, the girl who knew she couldn’t refuse anymore squeezed between the two of them. She took one hand from each and glanced back at Liu Yutang, who was still standing there. “I’m heading home. You should too.”

“Call her over and give her a ride,” Bai Qian said.

“No need. Her house is right by the school—it’s in the school district.”

“…”

Yu Niannian pulled her two guardians along for a short distance before hesitating and turning back again. Her gaze met Liu Yutang’s.

It was like warm sunlight falling on a stone. Even facing her only friend, the girl’s expression showed no change.

“Do you want to come with us for bullfrog?”

…

Because there was an extra person in the car, Jian Wanqing—who usually sat in the back with Yu Niannian—ended up in the passenger seat for once.

A little while after they set off, Jian Wanqing glanced up at the rearview mirror. The two girls, worn out from all the activity, had snuggled together and fallen asleep.

With the little one unable to hear, she finally had the chance to voice the question that had been weighing on her the entire ride.

“Bai Qian, when did you fall for me? Don’t tell me it was the first day we met—that would explain why you kissed me first and chased after me when I was leaving. Since you’re so—”

“Sorry, you’re overthinking it.”

Interrupted, Jian Wanqing’s words caught in her throat. A few seconds later, she found her voice again. “Then when did you fall for me?”

“I don’t know.” When it came to matters of the heart, the outcome mattered more than the exact moment it began.

“You don’t know?! How could you not know!”

Jian Wanqing felt aggrieved for only a moment before coming up with an excuse for her. “I guess you like me so much that you can’t even remember when it started. Oh right, I haven’t changed my wallpaper yet. Bai Qian, give me your phone. I’ll set your wallpaper too.”

“It’s in my pocket. Help yourself.”

“What’s the password? My birthday? Or the day we met? Guess what mine is. I’ve changed it a bunch of times up to now—do you know why?”

Bai Qian’s eyelid twitched. She started to stop her, but it was too late. Without a hint of embarrassment, the woman answered her own question. “I change it every time we do it. What’s the date today? I’ll have to update it later. This might get troublesome, though—could end up changing it every day from now on. Better to keep it simple. Let’s do couple passwords. You use my birthday, and I’ll use yours.”

As she spoke, the woman tapped in the numbers. “I still suspect you liked me from the very first day we met—you just hadn’t realized it yourself. Otherwise, you only saw my ID that one night. How could you possibly remember my birthday so clearly…?”

Bai Qian knew exactly why Jian Wanqing had suddenly fallen silent. Just as the woman’s face drained of color and she was about to voice her grievances, Bai Qian spoke up in time. “The password is six zeros.”

Jian Wanqing’s aggrieved words caught in her throat. She quietly unlocked the phone before saying, “Starting today, change it to my birthday. You don’t know when my birthday is, do you? It’s actually easy to remember—”

“April first. April Fool’s Day.”

Bai Qian had long since etched that date into the depths of her heart. In the original plot, it was the very day the female protagonist received her diagnosis of a sexually transmitted disease—her birthday, of all days.

—Heaven itself seemed determined never to treat her kindly, going so far as to mark her most important day with the most absurd and laughable one imaginable.

Jian Wanqing’s fingertips paused mid-motion. The brightness in her eyes dimmed, as if dusted over with ash.

The woman’s voice no longer carried its earlier cheer. “Actually, I used to hate April Fool’s Day more than anything.”

But then she suddenly smiled. “Now, though… is it because of you? Those words don’t sound anywhere near as hateful anymore.”

“They won’t be hateful anymore.”

“Hm?”

Bai Qian, who had pulled the car over to the roadside, turned her head. The hand gripping the steering wheel reached toward Jian Wanqing’s face.

Her fingertip glided across the corner of the woman’s eye, brushing away a cool teardrop.

“Future April Fool’s Days will have more than just me—they’ll have Little Nian too. You won’t be alone anymore.”