Chapter 68

“Oh, no need to say more. I get it.”

Zhou An stared at her in shock. “What? You get it? You read it? You know Xu Zhou likes me?”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but Xu Zhou, seated in the back of the classroom, suddenly glanced their way. Zhou An clamped her mouth shut instantly.

Meng Bai couldn’t hold back a laugh. “You two are really something else.”

“Don’t laugh!” Zhou An said anxiously. “This isn’t the time to laugh—you should be shocked! Aren’t you stunned?!”

“Not really.” Meng Bai picked up her ballpoint pen and started doodling on a scrap of paper. After a moment, she glanced at Zhou An. “So, what did it feel like getting that love letter from Xu Zhou?”

Zhou An’s expression turned awkward. “Of course I was surprised. Why would she like me, anyway?”

“Because you’re pretty,” Meng Bai replied.

“You’re pretty too. Why doesn’t she like you?”

Meng Bai’s pen paused mid-stroke. “Don’t you think you should ask her that? How should I know?”

Zhou An looked troubled. “How could I ask her? I can’t even look her in the eye anymore. My heart’s pounding.”

With that, she sneaked another glance toward Xu Zhou—and jolted in her seat the next second.

“She’s still staring at us!!!!” Zhou An pitched forward, sprawling across her desk and peeking out with just her eyes. “What do I do? Tell me!”

Meng Bai remained perfectly calm. “So, what are your feelings for Xu Zhou?”

“Feelings? Before that letter, I always thought of her as a sister. I’ve been sleeping over at her place a lot lately.” A faint blush crept onto Zhou An’s cheeks. “Now everything feels… weird.”

Meng Bai’s lips curved up. “Weird how? Spill.”

“I can’t look at her. I feel so embarrassed.”

“Oh? Anything else?”

“And I don’t know how to handle it. I’ll even feel awkward talking to her after class.”

Meng Bai hadn’t expected Zhou An to be this rattled.

It wasn’t at all like she’d pictured.

“Do you want to date Xu Zhou?”

“No, no, no!” Zhou An shook her head wildly. “I don’t want to date anyone. And I don’t think that’s what she meant either.”

She sensed that Xu Zhou’s letter hadn’t been about pursuing a relationship. It was pure and innocent, just a heartfelt confession without any hidden agenda.

Meng Bai nodded lazily. “Got it. Then just pretend it never happened. You’re not dating anyway, so save it for after the College Entrance Exam.”

Zhou An peered past Meng Bai’s shoulder, her voice dropping even lower. “So, should I keep my distance from now on? Like, can I still sleep over at her house and stuff?”

“Hmm… yeah, I think you should.”

Zhou An nodded, half-understanding. “Do I need to reply to her?”

“That’s up to you.”

“Okay. I’ll think it over.”

From then on, Zhou An fell silent, lost in her own thoughts.

Meng Bai busied herself sorting through test papers and notes, too occupied to pay her any mind.

Morning self-study sped by. When the bell rang, Zhou An slipped a folded note into Meng Bai’s hand. “Pass this to her for me.”

Meng Bai raised an eyebrow. “When did you turn so bashful? This isn’t like you at all.”

Zhou An nodded with an awkward grin. “I’m embarrassed, okay? Really embarrassed. Just… give me a few days.”

Meng Bai had no idea what the note said. She called Xu Zhou out to the hallway and handed it over. Xu Zhou skimmed the contents, her face stiffening.

It was easy to imagine Zhou An hadn’t penned anything poetic.

“What did she write?” Meng Bai asked.

Xu Zhou’s eyes clouded with a quiet sadness, though it was hardly unexpected. She let out a resigned sigh. “What else? She doesn’t hate me, but she doesn’t have feelings for me. We’re still friends, but she won’t come over for homework help for a while. We’ll keep some distance.”

Meng Bai suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for her. “Don’t be sad. Zhou An, she—”

“I’m not sad,” Xu Zhou said. “She’s rejecting me outright. She’d never like me back.”

Those last words hung heavy with helplessness.

Seeing Xu Zhou’s downcast expression stirred Meng Bai’s curiosity. “Why do you like Zhou An, anyway?”

Even in her sorrow, Xu Zhou managed a small smile. “She’s a good person. Bright and sunny. She’s special to me.”

Xu Zhou pursed her lips. “I can’t quite explain it. When I transferred in, no one would talk to me. People said I was standoffish. Zhou An was the only one who came over and chatted with me.”

It was true—Xu Zhou didn’t have the best social skills.

Her resting face was stern, and she rarely warmed to conversation. Over time, people stopped trying to befriend her.

She wasn’t problematic, just reserved and slow to open up.

So it made perfect sense that Zhou An’s cheerful, easygoing nature had drawn her in.

Xu Zhou sighed again. “I don’t know how it started. At first, I just thought Zhou An was interesting. I’d watch her during class when I had nothing else to do. It turned into a habit—I felt off if I didn’t see her for a day. I didn’t realize what it was until the day her dad tried to sell her off. It hurt so much I wanted to cry. The thought of her getting bullied… I’d grab a knife and go after Zhang Gou myself.”

She spoke calmly in recollection, but the emotion rang utterly genuine.

Adults always dismissed young love as impulsive, superficial, unrealistic.

But Meng Bai understood Xu Zhou’s feelings. They were pure—no elaborate reasons, no expectations of reciprocation. Just a simple, sincere affection that had bloomed naturally for Zhou An.

“So what now?” Meng Bai asked, unsure how to comfort her.

“Nothing. Days will go on as usual. It’s fine.”

Meng Bai hesitated, then added, “It’s okay. We’re still friends. If you need to talk, I’m here.”

Xu Zhou smiled and nodded. “I know. Her response was what I expected. I was too impulsive writing that letter.”

“Sigh.” Meng Bai leaned against the balcony railing, gazing across at the sports field. The unnamed grass on the lawn had withered to yellow, limp and unkempt, like the hair of a homeless man.

She had grown accustomed to this wild, unchecked growth and felt no discomfort from it at all.

Meng Bai suddenly felt a touch sentimental. She glanced around her; everything in her line of sight was so confined. The school was actually tiny—small enough that she could sprint a full lap around the playground in a couple of minutes.

“Xu Zhou, do you think you’ll ever come back here in ten years?”

“No.”

“Me neither.” Meng Bai paused, then amended her words: “Actually, maybe. If Miao Bai’s still around, I’d come back for sure.”

“Really? But ten years is forever.” Xu Zhou held up her hands to illustrate. “We’re eighteen now, and ten years is more than half our lives so far. Way too long.”

Meng Bai didn’t respond. Instead, she shot Xu Zhou a sidelong glance, her eyes suddenly sparkling. “Xu Zhou, I’m gonna tell you a secret. You and Zhou An are the only ones.”

“What?”

“Last night, I kissed Miao Bai.”

“Huh? No way, really?”

“Really.”

“You’re so brave.” Xu Zhou let out a low whistle. “I’m kinda scared of Miao Bai, to be honest. Her vibe is so intense—being near her makes me feel cold all over.”

“She’s not cold at all. She’s actually super nice.”

Xu Zhou tilted her head. “So, what’s the deal between you two now?”

“I don’t know. I haven’t dared to ask her.”

Just then, the bell rang, and students began trickling into the classroom.

Before they stepped inside, Xu Zhou turned to Meng Bai.

“Don’t worry. I think she likes you.”

Meng Bai wasn’t so sure. “Why do you say that? I’ve told her how I feel before, and she mostly turns me down.”

“But come on, think about who Miao Bai is. If she didn’t feel something for you, you wouldn’t even get within arm’s reach.”

Meng Bai froze for a second. Mulling it over, she realized Xu Zhou had a point.

“You’ve got the guts to kiss her but not to confess properly?”

Meng Bai straightened up. “It’s not that I’m scared.”

~~~

Life plodded on unchanged, school days blending into one monotonous blur. The countdown scrawled on the blackboard ticked down relentlessly, while classes slipped by in a haze of dozing off and forcing oneself to stay awake.

After the afternoon bell, Xu Zhou slung her bag over her shoulder and bolted, clearly not wanting to impose on Zhou An.

Meng Bai packed up slowly, then tugged Zhou An along to town to buy some flowers.

Zhou An grinned teasingly. “Look at you, turning into a total romantic.”

Meng Bai beamed back. “Gotta make it special, right? Ceremony and all.”

Zhou An laughed. “I’m the opposite—no romance in me. I’d be the type to just pluck a couple wildflowers from the roadside for my girlfriend.”

Meng Bai shot back playfully. “Hey, wildflowers count.”

Buying flowers turned out to be quite the ordeal for them.

Folks in town had zero concept of romance like that—they bought vegetables, not bouquets. Giving flowers? That was seen as overly dramatic, pretentious even. A flower shop wouldn’t last a week here.

Meng Bai couldn’t have cared less.

She and Zhou An headed to a local flower farmer’s plot and picked out several stunning lilies, paying with pocket money she’d scrimped together over two weeks.

Next stop: the stationery shop for wrapping paper. Meng Bai crouched on the ground, meticulously bundling the stems, while Zhou An passed her the tape.

Working together, they ended up with something that actually looked professional.

“How’s it turn out?” Meng Bai asked, holding up the finished bouquet and giving it a little shake.

“Beautiful!” Zhou An was practically buzzing with excitement, more than Meng Bai herself. “Okay, so what’s your plan? What are you gonna say? I’m getting nervous just thinking about it.”

Meng Bai was even more jittery. “No clue yet. I’ll hand her the flowers first, then just… see where it goes.”

Zhou An prompted, “Like, ‘I love you. Will you be my girlfriend?’ That kind of thing?”

“No way.” Meng Bai wrinkled her nose. “Miao Bai wouldn’t go for something so cheesy.”

It was too formulaic, zero sincerity—like lines straight out of a bad TV drama.

“It’s getting dark. Let’s head out—you carry the flowers for me.” Meng Bai swung onto her bicycle. “Hop on, quick.”

The pitchier the night got, the faster Meng Bai pedaled.

She hadn’t come home last night, so Lin Li was surely waiting up for her. But Miao Bai’s place came first.

Time was of the essence.

No streetlights out here—just inky blackness, navigating purely from memory. Good thing Meng Bai knew the route like the back of her hand; she flew along it.

Zhou An called out, “Slow down! Slow down—you don’t have to rush like this!”

“I’m rushing like crazy. How could I not be, for a confession? What kind of fool would I be?”

Zhou An groaned. “Ugh, you’re shaking the flowers right off!”

“Hold them steady—no dropping!”

Zhou An grumbled in protest. “I’m helping you confess, and you’re still bossing me around?”

Meng Bai laughed. “Sorry, sorry—you’re the best. I’ve got it figured out now, what I’ll say to her.”

A few minutes later, with a sharp squeak of brakes, Meng Bai skidded to a halt right at the gate of the Old Courtyard.

Zhou An hopped off and stamped her feet, whispering, “Brr, it’s freezing here.”

“Freezing? Doesn’t feel that way to me.” Meng Bai propped the bike up. “Hand me the flowers, then wait here a sec?”

“Sure, but hurry. This place gives me the creeps.”

It was so dark, just this solitary old mansion looming amid wild trees and empty fields—straight-up eerie. Zhou An couldn’t imagine how Meng Bai mustered the nerve to bike out here at night.

The whole scene screamed one word: haunted.

Clutching the bouquet, Meng Bai bounded up the steps and rapped lightly on the door. “Miao Bai—”

She gave the gate a push; it swung open, unlocked as always.

From behind her, Zhou An piped up. “Eek! I’m seriously freaked out. Mind if I come in too? You do your thing—I’ll just be invisible.”

Meng Bai paused. “…”

And so they both stepped into the courtyard. It was still shrouded in darkness, the walnut tree’s leaves rustling softly in the breeze, whispering against one another.

Meng Bai called out into the shadows. “Miao Bai? Zhou An’s with me—she was scared of the dark outside, so we came in together.”

A sudden whoosh of wind swept through.

And just like that, the courtyard blazed with light.

Not from candles or lamps, but from the walnut tree itself. Its leaves glowed with a soft golden hue, clusters shimmering like pure gold, bathing everything in a warm glow.

Zhou An craned her neck upward, awestruck. “Holy crap—she can make the leaves light up.”

Meng Bai tamped down her thrill and turned to Zhou An. “She doesn’t usually bother with lights. Doesn’t like them.”

“Oh, got it. Well, turn it off then—I’m okay now.”

“It’s fine.”

Miao Bai’s voice drifted over.

They turned to see her standing on the front steps, descending slowly. She wore a long white cheongsam that softened her usual austerity compared to black, making her seem far gentler than usual.

Zhou An smiled and waved. “Evening, Miao Bai.”

“Hello.”

Meng Bai hid the flowers behind her back and greeted her as well. “We’re a little late.”

“It is pretty late—almost seven thirty.” Miao Bai stepped up to Meng Bai, her voice clear and bright. “You need to head home early tonight. You didn’t come back yesterday.”

“I know. I just came to give you something. I’ll leave right after.” Meng Bai turned to glance at Zhou An and winked. “Zhou An, turn around. No peeking. And cover your ears—no listening.”

Zhou An nodded with a grin. “Alright, alright. I won’t listen. I won’t look. Happy now?”

The corners of Miao Bai’s lips curved up slightly. She seemed to know what Meng Bai was up to, but she said nothing. She was waiting for Meng Bai to speak.

Zhou An obediently turned around and covered her ears.

Only then did Meng Bai look up at Miao Bai. Their gazes met, and Meng Bai suddenly felt a bit shy.

She scrambled for something to say. “I had no idea you could make the leaves light up like that.”

“The leaves aren’t actually lit,” Miao Bai said. “I cast an illusion on the two of you. It’s pitch black all around right now.”

“Ah—so can you see me clearly? It’s important to me.”

Miao Bai nodded. “Of course.”

“Then can you cast the same illusion on yourself? I think the golden leaves make for a nice atmosphere.”

Light danced in the depths of Miao Bai’s dark pupils.

“Alright. So what do you want to do?”

“I want to give you a bouquet.” Meng Bai glanced up at the walnut tree. Beneath its shining leaves, everything had turned to gold, as if they were standing in sunlight. She felt warm all over.

“What kind of flowers?”

“Lilies.” Meng Bai brought the bouquet out from behind her back and held it out to Miao Bai. “Zhou An came with me to buy them. We took our time picking them out—they’re super fragrant and fresh.”

She pointed to the wrapping. “As for this kinda clumsy packaging, I did it myself. I rode my bike too fast on the way over, so it got a little wrinkled. But I think it still looks pretty good.”

Miao Bai took the flowers and nodded. “Mm. It does look good.”

“I didn’t count how many there are. I don’t even know what the number’s supposed to mean.”

A smile bloomed on Miao Bai’s lips. “Mm. And then?”

“Well, this bouquet is just the right size anyway. But looks aren’t everything—do you like it?”

Miao Bai gazed at Meng Bai without blinking, light shining in her eyes. “I like it.”

“Good. I’m glad you like it.” Meng Bai was a little nervous. She clenched her hands into fists behind her back, giving herself a silent pep talk.

She took a deep breath and looked Miao Bai straight in the eye, her expression and tone utterly earnest. “So… from now on, every autumn, how about I give you a bouquet of lilies just like this?”

“Every autumn?”

“Yeah. Every single autumn. One bouquet each time. Every year.” Meng Bai pressed her lips together. “What do you think?”

The girl before her was so sincere, her clear eyes brimming with hope.

There was no greed in that longing, and from those few simple words, Miao Bai sensed something truly beautiful.

Suddenly, the fragrance of the flowers in her hands felt overwhelmingly rich. It seeped into her heart, planting a seed there that sprouted and grew at an astonishing speed, blooming into a flower that would never wilt.

It was a unique fragrance—one that belonged to Meng Bai.

“Okay, Miao Bai? Every autumn.” Meng Bai repeated softly.

That gentle voice tugged at Miao Bai’s ears. In that instant, the withered, decaying scent of autumn finally broke through the soil, taking on a whole new aroma.

A subtle feeling washed over Miao Bai’s heart. For the first time, she found herself looking forward to next autumn… or the one after that.

In that moment, Miao Bai’s mind went blank.

She forgot that she would one day vanish from this world. She brushed aside those gaps that weren’t truly important.

So Miao Bai nodded and said, “Okay.”

Meng Bai broke into a radiant smile, beaming with joy. “Really?”

Miao Bai cradled the flowers to her chest and nodded. “Really.”