Yun Yueqin noticed and sighed softly. She stroked Yun Chun’s head, her voice gentling. “If Mom buys you a bicycle, will you only ride it for a few exciting days—whether you learn or not—and then give up? Or will you keep riding it forever?”
Yun Chun whispered, “Of course I’d ride it forever…”
Yun Yueqin pressed on. “If you can’t learn right away, will you keep trying? Never give up?”
Yun Chun nodded. “Mm-hmm.”
Yun Yueqin stood up. “Mom understands. I’ll go start dinner now. You do your homework first, okay?”
Yun Yueqin hadn’t promised to buy it or not, but Yun Chun didn’t dare ask again. She always obeyed her mother and never threw tantrums or cried for things. Her temperament was so gentle that she could only nod glumly. “Okay.”
No one mentioned the bicycle for the next few days.
Yun Chun knew their family wasn’t well-off; they couldn’t have whatever they wanted. Even so, as a child, though she understood this in theory, she still sulked inwardly.
On those trips to and from school, she took huge strides, walking as fast as she could, as if that might match the speed of a bike.
But the next time she saw Lu Qingxue whiz past on her bicycle, Yun Chun realized that no matter how big her steps or how hard she tried, she could never catch up to two wheels.
Unless those wheels stopped spinning, the front tire veered slightly off a straight path, the axle ceased its squeaking, and the rider stopped chatting with her classmates…
Otherwise, the cyclist wouldn’t notice her, and Yun Chun’s gaze would never quite catch Lu Qingxue’s back.
On the crowded concrete path surging with people, Lu Qingxue pulled her bike to the side. Gripping the handlebars with both hands, she turned to look behind her.
Even amid the throng, Lu Qingxue spotted Yun Chun at once.
The little one looked so stubborn, her eyes the only thing sparkling brightly. As Lu Qingxue rode by, she caught a glimpse by chance and instinctively hit the brakes.
Turning her head, she saw those two dark, shiny eyes. Lu Qingxue smiled. “Come here. Let your big sister give you a ride.”
The narrow road buzzed with noise, but Yun Chun heard Lu Qingxue’s words clearly.
Maybe because Lu Qingxue had been looking right at her while she spoke, and at that moment, Yun Chun’s world was filled with Lu Qingxue. Amid the surging crowd, their eyes locked, hearts connected.
When gazes hold firm, even the faintest words can be read from moving lips.
Yun Chun gripped her backpack strap and wove through the flow of people to Lu Qingxue’s bike. Tilting her head up at the girl on it, she asked uncertainly, “Can you really give me a ride?”
Lu Qingxue wore her hair in a ponytail with a light fringe of bangs. Hearing the question, she grinned. “As long as you don’t think I’ll kidnap you, hop on boldly.”
Yun Chun shot back, “You wouldn’t kidnap me. If you did, I’d tell my mom on you.”
Elementary schoolers loved that kind of threat: tell the teacher at school, tell Mom anywhere else.
But at Lu Qingxue’s age, did such words hold any fear? They just sounded cute coming from Yun Chun.
Lu Qingxue laughed, chuckling heartily, utterly unthreatened. “What if I did kidnap you?”
Yun Chun replied, “Then you’d have to take care of me.”
Lu Qingxue’s eyes curved in amusement. She didn’t tease about kidnapping anymore and instead glanced at the back seat. “Can you climb on by yourself? Or does your big sister need to lift you?”
Yun Chun hesitated.
Not about whether she could get on the bike, but whether she should let Lu Qingxue give her a ride. After all, the last time they’d spoken, Yun Chun had been chased by a dog and ended up crying in Lu Qingxue’s arms.
Kids that age didn’t feel embarrassed by such things; they just thought they weren’t close enough for it to feel right—riding with Lu Qingxue might make her shy.
But that childish shyness couldn’t hold back the thrill bubbling in her heart.
After just two seconds, she said, “I can!”
Embarrassment be damned—she wanted to feel the speed of a bicycle.
Though Yun Chun answered without hesitation, it was her first time on a bike. Her movements were clumsy as she instinctively grabbed Lu Qingxue’s shirt at the waist for support. With a heave, she clambered onto the back seat.
Once seated, Yun Chun meant to let go, but Lu Qingxue said, “Hold on tight to me, or you’ll fall off and land right on your butt—that hurts.”
Hearing that, Yun Chun kept her grip firm.
Lu Qingxue glanced down at the two little fists now bunched at her waist like steamed buns. Her eyes crinkled with a smile, and she said softly, “Sit steady now. I’m pedaling off.”
Yun Chun replied, “…I’m ready.”
Yun Chun still remembered it vividly: sitting on the back seat, Lu Qingxue’s back right in front of her—so close it filled her vision. Staring straight ahead meant her eyes would be full of Lu Qingxue in her school uniform.
She’d seen the uniform plenty, so she tilted her head up a bit, fixing her gaze on the back of Lu Qingxue’s head. There was the ponytail, the end swaying back and forth like a cat toy. Yun Chun didn’t know what a cat toy was back then, but watching it, she couldn’t resist reaching out to grab that swinging braid tip.
That would be rude, though.
Yet Yun Chun reached out anyway. In that instant, impulse took over.
Halfway there, her hand veered, scratching her cheek instead. Then she grabbed Lu Qingxue’s shirt again.
Because the moment she let go, Lu Qingxue sensed it and said, “Kiddo, hold on tight to me.”
Yun Chun felt caught in mischief, flustered. She clutched the shirt anew and didn’t dare look up at that swinging braid anymore. Instead, she shrank behind Lu Qingxue, turning her head to watch the roadside.
She’d walked this road home from school countless times, but this was the first time feeling it from a bike seat.
It was so different.
Even the clouds felt different.
That day’s sunset was beautiful, all pink. It didn’t just tint half the sky above the distant mountain peaks; great swaths of pink floated over the fields nearby too. The lush green crops below seemed brushed with pink by some colorful pen. A breeze stirred the green leaves, shaking loose flecks of pink.
Yun Chun knew those clouds tasted sweet. She’d tried them.
No longer daring to eye the braid, her attention scattered. She felt the wind rushing past. In childlike wonder, Yun Chun parted her lips slightly, tasting the wind.
The breeze carried a sweet, fresh scent. The first taste told her—the wind had blown peach-colored clouds from the high sky right into her mouth.
But later, when she was a bit older and riding her own bike to school under a similar pink sky, with a gentle breeze blowing, she tried it again, lips parting just so.
Nothing. No flavor at all.
It dawned on her slowly: the sweetness that day hadn’t come from pink clouds.
It was Lu Qingxue.
The sweetness from Lu Qingxue herself.
Lu Qingxue was sweet.
…
Why did she remember that day so clearly?
Because when Lu Qingxue dropped her off at home that day, the first thing Yun Chun did upon bursting through the door was muster her courage and tell Yun Yueqin, “Mom… I still want a bicycle…”
She wanted to go faster on the road too.
It felt like hunching her shoulders and stomping the pedal hard—after the wheels spun a few turns, she’d grow up in an instant.
Yun Yueqin didn’t say a word in response. Instead, she took Yun Chun’s backpack off and set it aside. While asking how she’d gotten home so early that day, she led her out to the courtyard.
Yun Chun said Lu Qingxue had brought her back—and emphasized that it was by bike, how fast it was. She’d meant to bring up the bicycle again, but as she turned, she spotted a brand-new bicycle parked in the courtyard.
In her rush inside, she’d completely overlooked it.
Seeing it now, she froze, utterly stunned.
Yun Yueqin smiled and patted her back, nudging her forward. “Do you like this one? It’s the most suitable bike in the shop for you to ride, Mom thinks. It looks the best.”
Yun Chun barely glanced at the bicycle before whipping around to hug Yun Yueqin’s legs. She bounced up and down in excitement. “I love it! Thank you, Mom!”
Yun Yueqin laughed and ruffled Yun Chun’s hair. “Want to take it for a test ride?”
Yun Chun nodded vigorously. “Yes!”
With that, Yun Yueqin began teaching her daughter how to ride. Back then, the lanes between the neighborhood houses were unpaved, littered with gravel. Only the main road had a thin layer of cement.
That’s where they practiced.
As evening fell, the road bustled with people coming and going. Children streaming back from school trickled into the village one by one. They all spotted Yun Chun on the main road—and the bicycle she was riding.
That day, Yun Chun’s wish didn’t just come true. Her bike soon drew a crowd of kids her age, who gaped and chattered with awe. “Wow!” “Holy crap!” “Your mom’s the best!”
For the first time, young Yun Chun savored the thrill of admiration. A flicker of vanity warmed her little heart, thoroughly satisfied.
From then on, she listened to Yun Yueqin even more obediently. Mom loved her deeply—Yun Chun knew that much.
Only now, reflecting on it all, did she realize her first bike lesson had stemmed from Lu Qingxue.
A subtle warmth stirred in Yun Chun’s chest.
She had thought her only link to Lu Qingxue was that lost lollipop.
But no…
She had simply forgotten their other, brighter moments together.
Perhaps the lollipop lingered as a regret, while these other memories were quiet fulfillments.
What you gain slips away so easily from the mind. But what wounds you? It dances and leaps, etching itself ever deeper.
And besides—she had never dwelled on them before.
Without this chance reunion with Lu Qingxue, those memories of her would have eventually been buried under the snow piling up in her thoughts.
Even if one surfaced now and then, she would give it no more than a fleeting pause. Oh, right—we crossed paths once.
That was it. Nothing more.
But surely Lu Qingxue had forgotten too?
Or maybe Lu Qingxue had never committed it to memory at all. After all, how could she know? On some ordinary school day, as she pedaled home like always, a little girl trudging along the roadside had caught sight of her—and been struck with the burning urge to learn how to ride.
Riding Lu Qingxue home that day had been utterly routine for her.
Routine moments like that fade into nothing.
Yun Chun remembered because that day had been anything but routine for her.
She had felt her mother’s love. She had tasted the flavor of pure bliss.
~~~
On the bike ride over, Yun Chun had spotted an electric scooter ferrying a passenger. When her eyes landed on the person in the back seat, the words popped into her head unbidden: Kid, hold on tight to me.
Wenwen noticed her smile, too—and it came from Yun Chun recalling that awkward moment from childhood. Back then, she’d desperately wanted to grab Lu Qingxue’s braid, convinced for a heartbeat that she’d been caught.
As a child, it had mortified her. Now? It just struck her as funny.
Yun Chun’s lips quirked upward. She replied with genuine cheer, “Nothing much. I’m just in a good mood.”
With that, she strode ahead.
Wenwen trailed behind, eyeing her friend’s retreating figure with puzzlement. No paycheck yet, though…
Yet Yun Chun’s sunny mood held for barely three hours. The instant she laid eyes on Li Gaoxuan, it evaporated.
Li Gaoxuan—the man who had blacklisted her.
