That feeling washed over her again, lifting her from the depths of despair to the heights of ecstasy. Only Miao Bai possessed that kind of allure.
Meng Bai hurriedly peered into the box to see what it held.
It was enormous, rivaling the large trunk she used for her books, and heavy as she dragged it out—heavy enough to suggest more than one gift inside.
Who could resist the thrill of unwrapping presents? Especially a surprise like this.
Her earlier melancholy evaporated in an instant.
Meng Bai carefully opened the cardboard box. At its center sat an exquisite cake, its rich buttercream scent drifting toward her.
The workmanship and intricate decorations were exceptionally refined.
Along the edges, she discovered a stack of over a dozen books, all brand new and still sealed.
The selection was delightfully random—novels, essays, poetry collections, everything under the sun.
In a small town like theirs, these were true treasures, rarities beyond measure.
Meng Bai counted them out one by one in excitement. My goodness, so many—over a dozen. Miao Bai must have spent a small fortune.
Was there more?
She dug deeper, and there it was.
Nestled neatly at the bottom was another box. She opened it and gasped—a camera!
Bronze-hued with a vintage design, it looked brand new and far from inexpensive.
Meng Bai’s mind short-circuited. She’d already considered the pocket watch a lavish gift, but a camera on top of that?
Miao Bai truly carried herself like a young heiress, showering gifts by the armload without a trace of reluctance.
Excitement mingled with a flicker of hesitation. Meng Bai felt she had nothing worthwhile to give in return.
She set the camera aside with care, then found herself at a loss. She’d never received so many presents at once, and words failed to capture the swirl of emotions.
And the cake—how could she possibly eat it all alone?
What time was it now?
Meng Bai recalled the pocket watch tucked under her pillow, fished it out, and checked: ten forty.
Her gaze drifted to the cake box, a sudden impulse stirring. She wanted to find Miao Bai and share it.
But wouldn’t that make her motives too obvious?
~~~
Sometimes desire overpowers every last scruple.
Deep into the night, as Meng Bai walked the rural path with the cake in hand, her heart hammered so fiercely she thought it might burst from her chest—the first time she’d ever felt quite like this.
Grass along the roadside whispered against her pant legs.
Excitement and anticipation consumed her, though she couldn’t pinpoint exactly why she was so elated.
Beneath the moonlight, the Old Courtyard appeared as quiet and forlorn as ever from a distance. But to Meng Bai, it was no longer a forsaken place.
She approached the gate and rapped lightly.
“Miao Bai, are you home?”
The night breeze rustled the walnut tree leaves overhead, their soft susurrus like music from the heavens slipping into her ears.
Meng Bai reflected that this was Miao Bai’s magic—everything touched by her became irresistible.
She called out again toward the door: “Want to share the cake? I can’t finish it by myself.”
In the moon’s glow, Meng Bai’s lone shadow stretched across the iron gate. Then, with a creak, that solitude split in two. Looking up, she saw Miao Bai standing in the courtyard.
So tall, her lithe frame clad in sharp black attire that evoked a queen of the night. One glimpse, and Meng Bai’s heart faltered.
Uniquely, irresistibly captivating.
“Ahem.” Meng Bai hesitated at the threshold, jiggling the cake instead. “Care for some?”
Miao Bai seemed lost in reverie, turning at the sound of her voice.
Their eyes met, and Miao Bai’s lips quirked upward. “Come in.”
The smile eased the tension in Meng Bai’s chest. She hurried forward. “What were you up to?”
“Daydreaming.” Miao Bai nodded toward the walnuts in the tree. “Three fell the whole evening.”
“Oh?” Meng Bai marveled at her tolerance for solitude. “Standing out here all that time—doesn’t it get boring?”
“When daydreaming is second nature, what’s the line between boredom and delight?” Miao Bai glanced at the cake. “You didn’t have any?”
“No, I got home and chatted with my parents. Just found your gifts—I love them.”
They stood close now, and as Meng Bai inhaled Miao Bai’s scent, realization dawned: this was what she’d craved all afternoon.
The pirate ship had been thrilling, the aerial bicycle exhilarating, the street food delectable. But none matched the anticipation of this.
She drank in every detail of Miao Bai—her eyes, her hair, her fragrance—unblinking.
Her throat grew parched, her cheeks warmed, and she remained unaware.
Miao Bai prompted, “Not here for cake?”
“Oh!” Meng Bai blinked back to the moment. “Where do we eat? Inside?”
Miao Bai pointed to the ground. “Right here.”
Here?
Fine.
Meng Bai crouched obediently and began unpacking the box.
Already slender, the pose accentuated the delicate curve of her spine beneath her thin T-shirt.
From Miao Bai’s vantage above, the sight stirred something subtle within her.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked.
“Huh?” Meng Bai looked up, the question striking her as odd. “No, not at all.”
“Good.”
Meng Bai ventured, “Should we light candles?”
“Yes.” Miao Bai knelt beside her. The cake’s buttercream aroma bloomed enticingly as they opened it.
Together they unpacked the candles—Miao Bai one side, Meng Bai the other.
“I’m eighteen—does that mean eighteen candles? Wait, are there even eighteen here?”
Miao Bai murmured, “There are.”
“Haha, it’ll cover the whole cake! What a chore!”
Yet their hands moved steadily, inserting from either side. Meng Bai’s fingers grazed Miao Bai’s several times—she admitted a touch of deliberation—but Miao Bai didn’t withdraw.
Only when finished did she note: “No lighter…”
“Do we need one?” Miao Bai met her eyes, her gaze featherlight.
Before Meng Bai could respond, whoosh—the eighteen flames sprang to life, bathing their faces in warm light.
The flickering heat danced in the air, igniting something in Meng Bai’s heart as well.
She confessed to herself: the sudden brilliance left her flustered.
Perhaps afraid to meet Miao Bai’s eyes, her gaze shifted downward. “It’s so bright—blow it out quick. It’ll make you uncomfortable.”
“Happy birthday, Meng Bai.”
This was the third time Miao Bai had said those words to her today, each one pressing a heavier weight onto Meng Bai’s heart.
“Thank you, Miao Bai.”
The next second, Meng Bai blew out the candles anyway.
In that moment, the firelight had long since ceased to matter to her.
Once the candle flames died and darkness enveloped them, a brief silence settled in. After a long pause, Miao Bai finally spoke. “You didn’t make a wish.”
“Oh, I forgot!” Meng Bai hurriedly closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and sincerely repeated that wish.
It was simple: ten years from now, they would still celebrate birthdays together.
Zhou An, Xu Zhou, Meng Bai, and someone named Miao Bai.
Miao Bai had to be there. Without her, the wish wouldn’t truly come true.
Meng Bai opened her eyes. “Done. Let’s eat cake.”
The cake wasn’t large, but it was more than enough for two people. She cut the slice topped with fruit and offered it to Miao Bai, only to have it rejected the next instant. “Too sweet. You eat it. I’ll just take a small piece.”
“Oh, right—you don’t really like sweets.”
“Mm. Old folks are like that.”
“Pfft!!! Since when are you old?!” Meng Bai burst into laughter. “No pretty woman talks about herself that way!”
The words “pretty woman” had slipped out straight from her heart, unfiltered.
But once they were out, a flush of embarrassment crept over her, and Meng Bai found herself blushing at her own boldness.
“Pretty woman?” Miao Bai’s eyebrows arched slightly. “Where’s the pretty?”
“Every—” Meng Bai still picked out a generous chunk of fruit for her, murmuring, “Pretty everywhere.”
“Pretty everywhere, so… where, exactly?”
Meng Bai’s face burned crimson. She couldn’t fathom why Miao Bai was pressing the point when she already knew the answer. “Aiya, just eat the cake already! Quick! You have to eat the fruit too! I’ll eat some! We’ll eat together!”
It was her way of dodging the question.
Miao Bai, tactful as ever, let it drop.
Tired of squatting, Meng Bai simply sat down. The courtyard was pitch black, the only light coming from the moon overhead. She scooped up a spoonful of cake and popped it into her mouth—a cream flavor she’d never tried before.
“Where’d you get this cake? It’s delicious.”
“Bought it in town.”
“That cake shop? Doesn’t taste like their usual stuff.”
“I told the boss to bring in some new stock from the city.”
Meng Bai suddenly recalled what Meng Xingzhong had mentioned. He’d said that when he went to buy cake that afternoon, the boss had gone off to the city for supplies.
So this was the new stock.
All at once, she saw Miao Bai as someone profoundly refined, insisting even on a cake that stood apart from the ordinary.
“So the cake shop owner saw you?”
Miao Bai nodded. “Yeah. He thought I looked unfamiliar and asked if I was from out of town. I said yes.”
Meng Bai found it bitterly ironic. When the “lunatic” whom everyone scorned stepped into the public eye, no one even recognized the real person behind the label.
Miao Bai, born and bred right here, dismissed as an outsider. It was absurd.
But she kept those thoughts to herself, unwilling to spoil the mood by voicing them. For now, all she wanted was to shower Miao Bai with praise.
“The cake is amazing. I love the books you bought, and the camera—I still don’t even know how to use it. Everything about it is perfect; it’s just so expensive. You’re incredible, so capable… I don’t know how I could ever repay you.” Meng Bai’s voice trailed off softer and softer until it was barely more than a mosquito’s hum. “And it makes me feel so… ordinary.”
“You don’t need to repay me for anything.” Miao Bai found Meng Bai’s fretting peculiar—what was there to overthink? “Just be happy. That’s enough.”
“I am happy.” Meng Bai’s voice grew even quieter. “But you’re just… too good.”
Shyness hung thick in the air, her words light as a teasing scratch.
Miao Bai heard them all the same.
The unguarded response gave her pause, the deeper implication dawning on her only after the fact.
“Meng Bai, there’s something we need to discuss—properly.” Miao Bai set her cake aside, her eyes holding an unfathomable glint.
Meng Bai’s heart clenched. “What is it?”
“I’m not one to beat around the bush, so I’ll say it straight: I will disappear.” Miao Bai’s expression grew utterly grave. “I’m not telling you that you’re wrong, or that those feelings of yours are mistaken. I respect what you feel. But I need you to understand this: when I vanish from this world, it will be without a sound, leaving behind less trace than a flower by the roadside.”
Her calm demeanor only amplified the thunderous impact of those dispassionate words.
“So what?”
Miao Bai’s tone remained even. “So think of it this way: your love is real, but I am not. You might see me as perfect, but I’m something ethereal, insubstantial. Pouring such deep emotions into me… it isn’t worth it.”
Meng Bai’s heart seized, the words bursting from her lips. “It is worth it.”
“Is it?” Ripples of emotion stirred in Miao Bai’s eyes as she studied Meng Bai’s face intently, then pressed: “Alright, then. Tell me now—what is it you like about me? What makes me worth it?”
