Chapter 53: “In the Name of a Lover” Part 2

The woman must have devoured countless old films and dramas to lace every line with such poetic flair.

Fu Tingli found the lovers endlessly amusing and couldn’t help picturing them scrapping on that balcony.

She burst out laughing.

Kong Liyuan, her hand still braced at Fu Tingli’s lower back, laughed along with her.

Once the laughter subsided, Fu Tingli straightened up and turned her gaze back to Zhu Muzi, declaring with relish, “It counts, of course it does.”

~~~

“Just missing one Nicole.”

By the time they reached the bustling heart of town, swallowed up by the crowd, Zhu Muzi suddenly belted it out.

Their car was parked under that empty suspension bridge. The town was in full swing for the annual Town Celebration Day parade, a raucous, jam-packed spectacle of flower-decked floats.

The throng surged everywhere, faces smeared with garish paints like some interdimensional meetup. The air felt thin, bubbling with voices.

Or like a vibrant seascape, every person a frothing wavelet, shimmering in the sun.

Zhu Muzi and Zhu Manda had been swept farther apart by the press, forced to shout over the din.

Fu Tingli, leaning on her crutches, moved slowly and awkwardly. Kong Liyuan kept a watchful eye, ready to steady her if the crowd jostled too hard.

“Nicole?”

Fu Tingli gripped her crutches, inching through the dense mass of bodies. “Nicole’s got an overseas exhibit right now. Probably can’t make it.”

“I forgot you two still keep in touch.” Kong Liyuan’s voice cut clearly through the clamor.

“Would you be bummed she’s not here?” Fu Tingli asked.

Kong Liyuan smiled. “Why would I be?”

“She still owes you a pack of smokes.” Fu Tingli remembered it crystal clear.

—Back when they’d sped away from that pack of blond thugs on the wide road, Nicole had thanked Kong Liyuan, who replied, “Buy me a pack next time we meet.”

Before that: face masks, a water truck, body paint turning to translucent red rivulets as they shared a third kiss. Impossible to forget.

It all felt like yesterday, vivid as ever.

“Can’t be helped.” In the dappled light and shadow, Fu Tingli saw the woman smiling at her. “Guess it’ll have to stay on her tab for now.”

Fu Tingli smiled back. Amid the rowdy chaos, she moved the slowest but laughed the brightest, the freest.

“I’ll remind her to settle up.”

Her words barely landed when Zhu Muzi’s shout pierced the babble between them.

“Damn! Thief!”

In the sea of blond, blue-eyed Americans, Fu Tingli and Kong Liyuan snapped to attention at the Chinese.

Fu Tingli looked up in confusion, locking eyes with the fuming Zhu Muzi. She caught a dark blur dart past them, barreling into the oncoming crowd.

He flashed them a grin, blond hair whipping, blew a cocky whistle.

Then vanished into the masses without a backward glance.

Kong Liyuan narrowed her eyes, patted her jeans pocket, and said coolly, “My phone and wallet are gone.”

“That bastard! Stealing during Town Celebration Day? I’m never coming back to this crap again—it’s never peaceful!”

Zhu Muzi shoved her way over, panting as she vented.

Zhu Manda, who’d been right beside her moments ago, was nowhere in sight—off chasing the thief, no doubt.

“What now?” Fu Tingli asked, worried.

“No way I’m letting this slide.” Zhu Muzi growled like a general issuing orders. “We give chase!”

Another pursuit was about to kick off. Fu Tingli glanced at Kong Liyuan, then at her own casted leg. No chance she’d join in.

She felt a twinge of regret.

She stepped back. “You guys go—”

Before she could finish, her crutches were snatched away. Her unbalanced body lifted into the air.

In that heart-stopping instant, cool, soft palms cradled her lower back.

When she came to her senses, Kong Liyuan’s sultry, dazzling smile met her eyes. The wooden crutches lay beside her, neatly placed.

And those clear words: “If we’re chasing, we’re doing it together!”

In a flash, Kong Liyuan was gone from her sight—but still gripped her hand tight. She vaulted onto the float behind Fu Tingli, her hair flickering like the shifting lights.

The thrill lingered.

Fu Tingli was still piecing together her surroundings when Zhu Muzi shoved her guitar case into her arms, then leaped up behind as well. Her excited voice rang out.

“We weren’t about to leave you behind! Hold on tight!”

With that, their mad dash truly began.

Fu Tingli realized she was perched backward on a flower-laden float. The roadside vendor who’d been beside them moments ago now receded into the distance, his grinning face fading. As he slipped into the crowd, he pocketed his stack of bills and waved them off.

They’d commandeered the vendor’s float!

It charged against the flow of the parade, countless eyes turning their way—shock, surprise, envy, you name it. Some even whipped out phones to film the bizarre spectacle.

This parade seemed even grander than the last.

Fu Tingli was surrounded by vibrant blooming flowers, their rich fragrance filling her nostrils. A heavy cast weighed down her leg, a pair of crutches lay beside her, and she clutched Zhu Muzi’s guitar case in her arms.

Everything rushed past in a dizzying blur, tumbling right under her eyelids.

The crowd and other parade floats sped ahead of her, kaleidoscopic scenes flashing by like a lantern show. Upbeat music swirled in the air, pounding against her ears and swelling her exhausted body.

It was like a movie playing out before her eyes, the shot stretched impossibly long, pulling her under along this stretch of road.

The float jostled along, and she watched it all sway and recede before her in a daze—like phantoms, like bubbles.

More like a dream that wasn’t quite real.

Only the woman sitting behind her felt utterly real, her hand clasped firmly in Fu Tingli’s. Their palms were both warm where they pressed together, fingers intertwined.

A massive gust whipped the flowers into a rustling frenzy, surging into a sea of petals. Kong Liyuan’s hair drifted from behind her to brush across Fu Tingli’s face, gusting wildly against her cheeks.

She breathed in the scent of her hair, held her hand tight, and pressed close against her back through the thin fabric of her clothes. In the midst of this earth-shaking chase, it was as if their very bones were slowly, resiliently fusing together.

In that moment, she knew they could go on like this forever.

Even without knowing the endpoint, even through a path of dazzling strangeness, they could still plunge madly into the deepest core of each other’s lives.

The float cut against the flow of the crowd, brushing past someone riding a bicycle with a basket full of California lupine. The rider’s face twisted in confusion for an instant, then they raised a hand and waved at her.

It glided under the enormous Buzz Lightyear float, where blue-green lights and shadows engulfed them like a sea of exotic cocktails. Even if it meant utter ruin, they welcomed it with delight.

In a hazy daze, she caught a bold shout of “Hey!” from an energetic brunette girl, paired with a radiant smile.

Fu Tingli returned a soft smile of her own.

Then she felt that cool palm grip her tighter, as if displeased by her smile for the other girl—as if determined to strip it away and weave it fully into her own life.

Their shaky float jostled and shoved its way out of the parade line.

The streets were wide yet crowded, the crooning love songs from corner restaurants mingling with the fading parade music.

She couldn’t tell if it was Chinese or English, male or female voices, or even make out the original melodies.

Tonight’s California felt especially intoxicatingly chaotic, everything whispering of grand, tumultuous romance.

Following the location pings from Zhu Muzi and Zhu Manda, they barreled straight out of the town center. The road ahead stretched broad and dimly lit, a dark huddle of shadows visible in the distance—though she couldn’t tell how many people were there.

But from afar, she could hear the thief, gasping for breath and cursing breathlessly: “Crazy bitches.”

Later, Zhu Muzi would comment on the whole affair—if that thief had targeted any other group, he wouldn’t have been so unlucky. Who asked him to cross paths with these crazy women, right when they needed exactly this kind of thrill?

But in the moment, when Zhu Muzi heard “crazy bitches,” she exploded. She leaped straight off the still-rocking float and charged right toward them.

Fu Tingli faced away from the shadowy clump and craned her neck for a glimpse. All she caught was Zhu Muzi’s hair flying wildly like claws outstretched.

A laugh bubbled up from her, her eyes crinkling.

Who would have thought a wobbly parade float would turn into a battering ram under their control?

All for chasing down a petty thief.

Now it slowed to a leisurely stop, and Fu Tingli still felt off-balance.

Kong Liyuan’s hair lingered against her cheek like the scattered petals whipping around, pricking at the nape of her neck—as if it had taken root there, churning up her heart and lungs.

It left her unable to calm down, unable to find peace.

“Kong Liyuan.”

Suddenly, she felt that if someone tossed a spark her way right now, she would ignite uncontrollably.

She hugged the guitar case tighter, murmuring almost to herself,

“I feel like we’re still missing something.”

The wind died in that instant, leaving only her uneven breaths and Kong Liyuan’s soft laughter from behind.

The road stretched wide and empty ahead of Fu Tingli, a water truck rumbling faintly into view. Mist trailed through the distant air, on the verge of enveloping them.

“You’re right. We’re missing something.”

Kong Liyuan said it with a smile.

Just before the water truck drew near, and before Zhu Muzi’s distant cursing grew louder.

The hair pressed against Fu Tingli’s back suddenly lifted, scattering wildly in all directions.

Then the space behind her emptied out, the float growing lighter at that end.

Fu Tingli glanced to her right.

There stood Kong Liyuan, who had stepped off the float. She paused at its side, gazing at Fu Tingli with those deep, affectionate eyes, the drifting flowers mirrored in their depths.

Fu Tingli sat on the float, her lithe waist braced against its edge.

Kong Liyuan leaned against the float’s side, bending slightly at the waist to watch her.

It was as if they were both submerged in the float together, their locked gazes filled with unwavering resolve.

Zhu Muzi’s voice drifted over from afar. “Hold up, those two look suspicious already. Who knows what they’ll get up to taking advantage of this.”

Someone replied to Zhu Muzi, but Fu Tingli naturally didn’t catch it. In her haze, she thought once more—fate really was wondrous. Nothing had changed; it was just like five years ago.

“They’re saying we’ll take advantage and do something,” Fu Tingli shared this hard-won moment of fate with Kong Liyuan.

Kong Liyuan just chuckled softly. “Aren’t we?”

“What about your phone and wallet?”

“Forget them.”

The wind tousled their hair into wild disarray. The water truck rolled by, sprinkling mist, scattering petals in its wake. The fog turned everything beyond them into hazy phantoms.

Unspoken, they both recalled the same thing.

Without hesitation, Fu Tingli’s eyes curved into a smile as she tossed Zhu Muzi’s guitar case amid the still-trembling flower bundles.

The dampened face scarf was finally peeled away, its lurid vibrance intensified. The woman pressed it gently to Fu Tingli’s cheekbone with cool fingertips.

The scarf blurred their faces.

It blocked the familiar gazes from afar—shock or relief—and erased the five years of wandering hardship.

Everything before them dissolved into dreamy shadows.

Kong Liyuan cupped her face through the thin scarf. The fingers against her cheekbone were cool, trembling faintly, even quivering. A droplet clung to her lashes, trailing down in a line.

Fu Tingli tilted her head back, pressing her nose bridge to Kong Liyuan’s face. She caught the drop, letting it slide into her own lips.

The water was salty, like seawater—or like Kong Liyuan melted into liquid form.

It flowed slowly and lingeringly through her, back into Kong Liyuan’s mouth, seeping deep into her heart and lungs.

From then on, it would haunt her dreams, impossible to forget.

Later, whenever Kong Liyuan looked at her with that gaze, she no longer felt confusion or complexity. She would only remember this summer night, everything hazy and tender.

Just like a fire ignited by water.

No matter how fiercely it burned, some essences could never be consumed—crooning love songs, dampened petals, lingering mist, the wet scarf against her face, Kong Liyuan’s hair.

And their first kiss, in the name of a lover.