Chapter 66: World Two [36]

The New Year’s Eve dinner for six made Grandma Shao’s holiday much livelier this year, and the Spring Festival Gala held a bit more anticipation than usual, all because of Yu Hongjun’s involvement.

Though the skits were still as boring and preachy as ever, the moment Yu Hongjun appeared on screen, microphone in hand, her voice filling the room, all six people in the living room turned their undivided attention to the TV.

Director Li even pulled out her phone to record a short clip, presumably to send it to Yu Hongjun.

“Hongjun sang beautifully,” Jiang Qingyi said, her face full of smiles. Ever since she learned that Mu Chengzong and his crew had been thrown in jail, her condition had visibly improved by the day.

“Of course, Sister Hong is a well-known veteran actress who’s conquered film, television, and music,” Director Li said with a laugh. “Everyone, look at the camera. I’ll take a group photo for Sister Hong.”

Hearing Director Li’s words, the five people on the sofa cooperatively faced the lens, smiles blooming on their faces.

Yu Hongjun’s performance was scheduled relatively early in the evening, airing around ten o’clock.

After listening to her and the other artists’ chorus together, Director Li and the other two took their leave first, planning to continue watching the Gala back home. That way, when they got tired, they could just roll over and go to sleep.

Grandma Shao was getting on in years. For an elderly person used to sleeping at nine and waking at five or six, still being out of bed at ten o’clock was practically pulling an all-nighter. So, after the guests left, it was almost time for her to rest.

“Grandma, leave everything else to us. When the time comes, we’ll remember to set off the fireworks,” Shao Qing said, supporting Grandma Shao on her arm as she escorted her to her room.

–

By half-past ten, the Gala had started its magic show, and the number of people on the living room sofa had shrunk from six to two.

“Jing Ke, can you spot the trick?” Shao Qing asked, watching the seemingly miraculous magic performance and unable to stop herself from glancing at Jing Ke.

“I can’t see any issues through the camera,” Jing Ke said, “but the principle is either an incredible sleight of hand, the use of specific props, or just the angle of presentation.”

As she spoke, Jing Ke held out her hands and performed the thumb-separation trick, the kind anyone with hands could literally do. “See? That’s a simple magic trick, too. The principle is easy to see, right?”

“But if a kid didn’t catch on, they’d probably think it’s magical, wouldn’t they?” Shao Qing’s gaze involuntarily fell on Jing Ke’s hands, her attention snagged by those long, well-defined fingers.

Could it also be an advantage of being mixed-race? Why do Jing Ke’s fingers look a centimeter longer than mine?

As soon as this question popped into her head, Shao Qing set out to find the answer with practical action.

She reached out and grasped Jing Ke’s wrist. Before Jing Ke could react, Shao Qing pressed her right hand against Jing Ke’s right hand. Aligning the bases of their palms, it was instantly clear that their fingertips didn’t line up.

“What’s up?” Jing Ke asked, looking at Shao Qing with a hint of confusion.

“Nothing, just wanted to see how much bigger your hand is than mine,” Shao Qing said, using her exceptionally sharp eyesight to gauge the distance.

There was a gap, but not by much – probably less than a centimeter, half a centimeter at most, she figured.

“Your fingertips seem a little cold. Should I turn up the heat?” Jing Ke asked, withdrawing her hand and instead wrapping it around Shao Qing’s fingertips.

“The heater’s already blasting. It’s just my constitution; my hands and feet don’t warm up easily in winter,” Shao Qing said, not pulling her hand away. She added, half-jokingly, “Just warm them up with your hands for a bit. They’ll get hot quickly.”

“Okay.” Jing Ke didn’t take it as a joke and soon cupped Shao Qing’s fingers in both hands. “Should you put your left hand in too? My hands are pretty warm.”

Shao Qing swallowed dryly and answered with feigned nonchalance, “Sure. I’ll trouble you to be a human hand-warmer, then.”

Once both hands were covered by Jing Ke’s, Shao Qing’s posture had to shift. Half her body turned, and her gaze settled on Jing Ke, no longer paying any attention to whatever program was playing on the Gala.

After about three minutes, Shao Qing felt her raised arms getting sore and couldn’t help but pull her hands out.

“Seems pretty warm now. Thanks,” Shao Qing said, directly stuffing her hands into her pockets.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Jing Ke’s lips. She just hummed softly in acknowledgment and turned her attention earnestly back to the Gala.

The Spring Festival Gala was, after all, a huge production meant for the entire nation. Although most of it was boring and cliché, the finale acts had some merit – at least they wouldn’t make someone instinctively pull out their phone to play games mid-show.

Seeing the hosts all come out on stage, Jing Ke and Shao Qing knew the countdown was about to begin. In unison, they grabbed their coats and started putting them on, waiting for the final thirty-second countdown.

Five, four, three, two, one.

“Happy New Year!” Jing Ke and Shao Qing immediately turned to the person beside them. When amber eyes met dark irises, laughter spilled from both their gazes.

“Quick, quick, let’s go set off the firecrackers. You didn’t lose the lighter, did you?” Shao Qing asked.

Mianyang was a bit different from other first-tier cities. Its policies were relatively people-friendly, only banning the random setting off of fireworks and firecrackers within the main urban area. The relatively sparsely populated urban-rural fringe area where they were wasn’t covered by the ban.

“It’s in my pocket. I bought windproof lighters,” Jing Ke said, pulling the lighter she’d kept in her coat pocket all along out. “What color do you want, red or green?”

“Red. I’m going to light the big firework,” Shao Qing said, putting the fuzzy hat that was on the table onto her head. She then picked up the other one and handed it to Jing Ke. “Hat. Don’t forget.”

“Okay.” Jing Ke put the hat on too and zipped her jacket all the way up to her chin, aiming for an airtight seal.

The moment they opened the main door, a biting northwest wind blasted them, making both of them shiver violently as they stepped out from the warm indoors.

“Don’t light the hundred-thousand-firecracker string of Big Red yet,” Shao Qing reminded again, then jogged over to the large firework, puffing out white mist. Sniffling, she lit the fuse.

They’d driven out to buy these firecrackers and fireworks themselves after returning, filling an entire trunk. The most expensive one cost nearly three thousand yuan and was said to explode into an enormous bloom in the sky when lit.

Once she was sure the fuse was sparking and fizzing, Shao Qing sprinted back, covering her ears as she waited for the firework to shoot into the sky and burst.

Whoosh—

Boom!

A firework costing nearly two hundred bucks a shot was truly no joke. When it exploded, half the sky lit up, and the sparks lingered in the air for several seconds longer than ordinary small fireworks.

“It’s so beautiful,” Shao Qing breathed, tilting her head to look at the sky. She wanted to pull out her phone to take a picture, but she was also a little afraid of the loud booms from the exploding fireworks.

Jing Ke saw Shao Qing’s dilemma. She reached out and placed her hands over Shao Qing’s ears, her direct action freeing up Shao Qing’s hands.

“Thanks,” Shao Qing sniffled, pulling out her phone from her pocket and snapping several photos of the fireworks, head still tilted up.

“Want to take a picture together?” Shao Qing asked, worried Jing Ke couldn’t hear her clearly and raising her volume.

Jing Ke smiled at the question and leaned close to Shao Qing’s ear, agreeing in a slightly louder voice than usual. “Sure. I’ll be troubling you, Teacher Shao.”

Shao Qing’s photography skills were good. As the very last firework burst in the sky, she chose a perfect angle, and the first group photo of the new year was freshly taken.

The photo’s background featured not only the large firework Shao Qing had lit, but also the constant blooms from up the street and far in the distance, all appearing in the frame together. It was brimming with the lively atmosphere of the holiday.

After stuffing her phone back into her pocket, Shao Qing took a step back and turned her attention to Jing Ke. “I’ll leave the hundred-thousand-firecracker string of Big Red to you. The fuse on this one isn’t very long. Remember to run the moment you light it. Don’t hesitate.”

“Okay. You stand farther away first. I heard this Big Red thing can sometimes shoot out little firecracker bits when it’s lit,” Jing Ke said, gripping the green windproof lighter in her hand.

Shao Qing didn’t bother with false modesty at this moment and immediately retreated three steps, half her body already back inside the living room.

Jing Ke cupped her hands together and blew on them for warmth, then jogged over to spread the hundred-thousand-string of Big Red flat on the open ground.

“Cover your ears well. I’m lighting it now,” Jing Ke called, waving at Shao Qing. Only after seeing her raise her hands to cover her ears did Jing Ke crouch down and light the fuse.

The fuse of the hundred-thousand-string didn’t look short, but the speed at which it burned upon meeting open flame wasn’t slow at all.

Jing Ke’s reaction was already fast, but the deafening crackle of firecrackers started when she’d only taken two running steps, forcing her to run while covering her ears.

Shao Qing watched nervously. Seeing Jing Ke running towards her, she sidestepped to make room, hunching her neck slightly as she watched the unending flashes of firelight erupting continuously on the front yard’s open ground.

Only when the fiery light completely died out did Shao Qing slowly lower her hands and turn her head to look at Jing Ke.

“Jing Ke,” Shao Qing asked, “do you have any wishes for the new year?”

“Wishes?” Jing Ke blinked, and her amber eyes glittered with countless points of light, just like the fireworks still endlessly blooming in the sky.

“Yes, New Year’s wishes,” Shao Qing nodded.

“I hope… that you, Shao Qing, will get better and better, that everything goes smoothly for you, that you’re safe, healthy, and that all things go as you wish,” Jing Ke said with a smile, reaching out to brush off some firecracker debris that had landed on Shao Qing’s shoulder.

“What about you? Do you have any New Year’s wishes?” Jing Ke looked at Shao Qing with curved eyes, her valiant features seemingly etched entirely with the word ‘gentleness.’

“Me? I, probably…” Shao Qing blinked. A nameless impulse surged into her mind. “I think, I want…”

“Want what?” Jing Ke asked.

“I want someone I can trust and occasionally lean on to stay with me forever.” With the atmosphere set like this, Shao Qing was direct for once. “Jing Ke, do you think my wish can come true?”

Shao Qing looked at Jing Ke, and in those amber eyes, she saw her own reflection staring back.

“Of course it can. I’ll always be by your side,” Jing Ke smiled, seemingly not grasping the deeper meaning. “I can let you lean on me occasionally. If you trust me enough, then I can make your New Year’s wish come true.”

Shao Qing pressed her lips together. The still-open door let cold air stream continuously inside, making her exhale a visible puff of white breath.

“Jing Ke, do you think I don’t trust you enough?” Shao Qing asked with a smile. “I’ve already brought you home for the New Year. That’s not a privilege ordinary friends get. Very few people know where I spend my New Year.”

“If that’s the case, I’ll make your New Year’s wish come true,” Jing Ke said, then paused. As if thinking of something, she quickly added another line.

“As long as you’re willing, I can be the good friend you can rely on and trust for a lifetime.” Looking at Shao Qing’s features, as bright and striking as ever, Jing Ke spoke each word deliberately, simultaneously warning herself in her heart.

Shao Qing is just Shao Qing. Our relationship is currently collaborators and friends on good terms. When necessary, I must maintain a certain distance. I can’t confuse the existence of two people because of certain memories.

“A good friend?” Shao Qing froze for a moment, then couldn’t help repeating it. “A good friend? You want to stay by my side as a good friend?”

Jing Ke’s throat tightened. She asked tentatively, “What’s wrong? Am I not your good friend?”

“You are. Of course you’re my good friend,” Shao Qing said, “but…” She couldn’t help pressing her tongue against her palate, debating whether she should say those words now.

Jing Ke looked at Shao Qing, patiently waiting for her to make her choice.

Remembering the New Year’s wish Jing Ke had just voiced, that familiar impulse appeared again, and Shao Qing made her decision. “But do you only want to be good friends with me? Don’t you want a different kind of relationship with me, to have an identity other than just a friend?”

“Like what?” Jing Ke was a little unsure of where this was going.

Jing Ke could recognize she was developing some unusual feelings for Shao Qing. But she couldn’t tell if those feelings were purely for Shao Qing herself, or if, because of that extra set of memories, she had transferred some of her feelings for Shang Siyu onto her.

If it was the former, that was fine. But if it was the latter… it seemed unfair to everyone involved.

Unable to figure it out, Jing Ke resorted to a somewhat clumsy method: be good to Shao Qing while constantly reminding herself to keep a distance, and hand more of the initiative to Shao Qing.

Because Shao Qing had no confusing feelings to mix up. The decision she made would certainly be clearer and more accurate than her own.

“Like… a girlfriend, how about that? That way, absolutely no one would dare try to stir up rumors with me,” Shao Qing said.

So many hints and suggestive words had already been spoken; if she chickened out at the very last step, wouldn’t that make her a coward?

“Disclaimer: I’m not using this reason to force you into a relationship with me. I just think you’re pretty good, and I feel comfortable being with you,” Shao Qing added. “You cook pretty well, and I like eating good food, so we’re quite compatible, right?”

Jing Ke licked her somewhat chilled lips. “Then what kind of girlfriend do you want? Do I just need to maintain the status quo? Or do I need to make some slight changes?”

Hearing Jing Ke’s question, Shao Qing couldn’t help but frown. What kind of answer was that? Was Jing Ke agreeing or not?

“I need a friend who also likes me, thinks I’m great, and is willing to be with me for life,” Shao Qing said, throwing the question back at Jing Ke. “Jing Ke, are you willing to become that person, and then be with me?”

Shao Qing took the initiative to step forward, stopping only when the tip of her nose was almost touching Jing Ke’s lips.