Chapter 69: Pomelo Not Bitter

Ming You took an afternoon nap to recharge her energy. Before heading out, she ate a bag of cookies and nuts that Gu Xirui had given her to tide her over, finally feeling alive again.

She opened her chat with Yan Ningxi, typed “It’s snowing here too,” and then deleted it.

What should she say? Was it time to surrender? This was the umpteenth time she had zoned out staring at Yan Ningxi’s avatar.

She needed to self-regulate, cool off, and take it in moderation.

Love couldn’t be forced or begged for. If the other person always held back, refusing to try, invest, or take action, what was the point of her persisting? After all, she no longer needed revenge as an excuse.

The only reason she clung to Yan Ningxi was because she liked her.

In the past, she had shamelessly pestered her because treating Yan Ningxi like a tool meant no consequences or talk of the future. But now her mindset had changed, her goals had changed, her desires had changed. Having developed these “delusions,” she could no longer be so shameless.

They were equals.

She wanted to pursue Yan Ningxi’s love on equal footing and find a way into her heart.

Heng Chuan’s group was busy with their respective tasks—adjusting equipment and rehearsing stage positions—to achieve the best possible effect under limited conditions.

Dinner was a boxed meal with two meats and one vegetable. Ming You had no idea if it tasted good; just looking at the colors made it hard for her to swallow.

It wasn’t that she was picky. She simply missed Yan Ningxi’s cooking. Only when eating Yan Ningxi’s food did she realize how wonderful daily meals could be.

For the first time, she understood what people meant by “the taste of home.”

What Yan Ningxi stir-fried was the taste of home.

After eight o’clock, she returned to the hotel. The bathroom was crude: the shower area and toilet were separated only by a tattered translucent curtain, the showerhead was broken, and there were unidentified stains on the white wall tiles.

It was a bit difficult for her to strip naked and shower in such a space.

After washing her face, brushing her teeth, and rinsing her feet, Ming You sat on the bed with a foggy head. She asked Gu Xirui for help: “Xirui, did you bring any painkillers? Cold medicine would work too.”

“You caught a cold?” Gu Xirui checked her forehead temperature. “Wait here. I’ll go to the front desk and borrow a thermometer.”

The hotel front desk said they didn’t have one. Gu Xirui asked several classmates, but none had brought one either, so she had to go out to a pharmacy to buy one.

“I’ll go with you. It’s an unfamiliar place. What if some pervert or drunk hassles the department flower who’s all helpless?” Lin Yiyang put on her coat. “I’ll grab some painkillers too, damn period.”

“There’s a pharmacy just two or three hundred meters downstairs. I can help you…” Earlier that day, Gu Xirui had noted the nearby stores.

“Cut the chatter. You coming or not?” Lin Yiyang pretended to be impatient and headed downstairs.

“Coming.” Gu Xirui helplessly followed behind Miss Lin.

…

In the room, the moment Gu Xirui left, Ming You felt nauseous again and rushed to the bathroom to vomit nonstop. She retched until stars burst in her vision and tears streamed out.

Her phone, placed on the sink, started ringing.

She flushed the vomit down the toilet, turned on the faucet, and cupped water to wash her face and rinse her mouth.

When she opened her phone, it was a message from the pinned contact.

【Yan Ningxi: You 】

She grabbed a few facial tissues to wipe her face clean, returned to the bed, and excitedly initiated a video call with eager anticipation. But it rang twice before being hung up.

Yan Ningxi was halfway there when a cold gust blew, but instead of sobering her up, it let a rampant “missing you” virus invade and take control of her brain.

While editing a text message, someone passing behind bumped her arm, and her thumb accidentally hit send.

Seeing the single “you” that had gone out, Yan Ningxi’s heart pounded with instant tension. Her first instinct was to unsend it, but it was already sent—unsending or not would leave a record either way.

The issue between them wasn’t about the content of the message anyway.

Good thing the phone screen hid her face, and she was just a few steps from the neighborhood gate. Otherwise, she might have panicked and bolted.

She figured Ming You would reply with a question mark or ask what she meant, but instead, Ming You directly called for a video chat.

Should she pick up?

It was dim all around with insufficient light, her expression tense, heart racing, and her mental state and appearance far from ideal—not suitable for video. She wanted Ming You to see her as flawless as possible.

After hanging up, she typed: 【In a bit.】

【Ming You: Oh.】

Whatever Yan Ningxi said, she would unconditionally obey and wait.

Three minutes, five minutes—no message or video from Yan Ningxi. Instead, Ming You endured another round of vomiting and diarrhea.

…

Gu Xirui returned to the room with a thermometer and some cold-prevention meds. Ming You’s face was pale as she curled up under the quilt, nearly passed out from exhaustion.

“I bought a thermometer. Measure your temperature first, then we’ll see about fever reducers.” Gu Xirui pulled the uncrushed half of the quilt over Ming You and shook the thermometer down to 35°C. “Tuck it under your arm.”

As Ming You placed the thermometer, she said, “Vomiting and diarrhea—the symptoms point to acute gastroenteritis.”

“Ah? Then let’s go to the hospital.” Gu Xirui had never had it, but her brother had once: nonstop vomiting and diarrhea for three days, loss of appetite, and he dropped five kilos in a week.

“No hospital. Meds will do.” Ming You hated hospitals the most. “Xirui, could you trouble yourself to buy some targeted meds? The pharmacy should have them. Give me the painkillers and fever reducers first. Thanks.”

“Sure, I’ll go.”

Gu Xirui called Lin Yiyang. “Lin Yiyang, come help quick.”

Lin Yiyang’s butt hadn’t even warmed her seat when she heard the out-of-the-blue request over the phone. Puzzled, she headed to Gu Xirui’s room. “What is it?”

“Ming You’s sick—acute gastroenteritis.” Gu Xirui handed her a box of meds. “Give her one of these. Take that white thermos to the front desk drinking fountain, fill it with hot water, mix in some mineral water, and have her take the meds with it.”

“…”

“I still need to buy meds for the gastroenteritis.” Seeing Lin Yiyang staring blankly at the box, she added, “Hey, you listening?”

“Listening, listening. You sure no hospital?” Acute sounded serious.

“She…” Gu Xirui hesitated. “For now, just this. Go get the water quick.”

One went to buy meds, the other to administer them.

Ming You’s eyelids were heavy; after taking the meds, all she wanted was sleep.

Hours of travel fatigue that morning, carsickness and lowered immunity, plus hours of hard work afternoon and evening on an empty stomach.

When Gu Xirui got back with the meds, Ming You had burrowed into the quilt, and Lin Yiyang was sitting on the edge of her bed scrolling her phone. The thermos and med boxes were on the bedside table.

“Did you take out the thermometer? What’s the temp?”

“Thermometer?” Lin Yiyang looked baffled. “Where? I didn’t see it.”

“…”

Gu Xirui carefully lifted the corner of the quilt but had no idea if Ming You had it under her left or right arm. How to check? She couldn’t just grope both sides.

She patted Ming You’s shoulder. “Ming You, let me see the thermometer. You need to take these two meds before sleeping too.”

The side-sleeper flipped onto her back, eyes closed, and removed the thermometer from under her arm.

“37.3°C, low fever. Not too bad.” Gu Xirui checked it, handed over the meds and water together. Knowing she couldn’t persuade her to go to the hospital, she didn’t push.

As Ming You was taking the meds, her phone under the pillow rang.

Drowsy the second before, she tapped the green button on the screen. The next second, her eyes flew open as she hit the side power button, choking on the water still in her mouth.

“Cough, cough.” The violent coughing hurt from her head down to her throat and stomach.

Ignoring the phone, Ming You spent a few more minutes in the bathroom before coming out. The moment she touched the bed, she pulled the covers over her head—her fingers and toes all limp.

【Yan Ningxi: What’s wrong with you?】

【Yan Ningxi: Reply.】

She had only caught a rough glimpse: messy hair, deeply furrowed brows, hazy eyes, haggard face—enough to set Yan Ningxi’s heart ablaze with anxiety.

Ming You groped for her phone, eyes throbbing with pain. She read the messages and typed back: 【Sleepy. Talk tomorrow. Goodnight.】

She switched to the emoji interface and tapped [heart] several times to send.

By past ten, Lin Yiyang checked the time. “Gu Xirui, if she gets worse tonight, call me. Heading back to my room.”

Gu Xirui nodded. “Okay. Thanks for tonight.”

…

After seeing Lin Yiyang off and locking the door, confirming Ming You was settled and no longer coughing, Gu Xirui finally started washing up.

Ten-odd minutes later, she finished tidying up. Before bed, she plugged in her phone to charge and picked up Ming You’s to charge it too. The moment she did, an incoming voice call popped up on the screen.

Startled, her right hand instinctively swiped to answer.

Glancing at the soundly sleeping Ming You, Gu Xirui’s intuition told her this Yan Ningxi was someone important. She’d play it as a mispick, see who it was, and decide whether to say one sentence, two, or three. Worst case, apologize to Miss Ming tomorrow.

She took the phone and tiptoed into the bathroom before speaking. “Hello?”

Hearing the unfamiliar voice, Yan Ningxi paused briefly before saying, “Hello. I’m looking for Ming You.”

“Ming You? She’s asleep.” Gu Xirui was still pondering how to fish for info. “May I ask who…”

“Are you Gu Xirui?”

“Uh? Oh, yes, that’s me. Gu Xirui, Ming You’s classmate.” Just as she suspected. “Sis knows me?”

“I do. She’s mentioned you—a department flower bestie from college you two are always with. I’ve seen your photo together. A very pretty girl.”

“Ah?” She hadn’t expected Ming You to have introduced her to this sister, let alone get complimented. “Thanks, sis. I think… maybe… I might’ve seen your photo too. A while back, she asked me to photoshop one for her…”

“If it’s the one with a woman photoshopped in the middle, the one on the side is me.”

“Yes, that’s the one! Sis, you’re pretty too.”

“Thanks.” Now that they knew each other, time for the main topic. “Could you tell me how she’s doing right now?”

“If you’re asking, sis, sure. It’s a school rural outreach activity today. We took a five-plus-hour bus ride. She barely ate breakfast, lunch, or dinner. She felt off on the bus during the day, took an afternoon nap for a bit of rest, then stayed busy with stage setup and rehearsals. By evening back at the hotel, vomiting and diarrhea hit—symptoms of acute gastroenteritis. Just took her temp: slight fever. She insists no hospital. But don’t worry—I asked the pharmacist and bought targeted meds for her to take. If she’s not better when she wakes tomorrow, I’ll take her to a clinic or hospital.”

Gu Xirui recounted Ming You’s entire day from morning to night in full detail. Yan Ningxi could only turn her worries into a thank-you.

“Thanks for taking care of her.”

“No need. We’re good friends. Sis, don’t worry too much.”

After the call, Yan Ningxi searched online about acute gastroenteritis. Per the net, mild cases cleared up in two or three days with meds; severe ones in a week.

Slightly relieved, she took a sip of hot water. She didn’t actually have a habit of using thermoses—just regular cups, drink immediately after filling. This thermos was a Teacher’s Day gift from students that Ming You had dug out.

They had shared it while up the mountain; after coming down, she’d been using it every night too. Not for the insulation, but because it was part of her sweet dreams with her.

The dream had ended too soon and too abruptly; she hadn’t had time to savor it. Looking at the empty vase—no flowers last week, none this week. Would there be any next week?

【Yan Ningxi: Goodnight.】

【Yan Ningxi: Message me when you wake up. Take good care of yourself.】

…

Ming You went to sleep early and woke early too.

A little past six in the morning, amid the muffled whir of the air conditioner, Ming You opened her eyes. The faint morning light filtering through the curtains allowed her to see.

Her phone was charging.

She unplugged the data cable and saw the chat history with Yan Ningxi and unread messages, roughly recalling last night’s events.

It was still too early; she was afraid of waking Yan Ningxi with a message.

With a whirlwind of thoughts keeping her from sleep, she logged into her QQ Space and wrote a journal entry titled “Pomelo Not Bitter,” set to visible only to herself.

December 31st—snowing, in the guesthouse, countryside assignment underway.

Today is the first day of the New Year’s holiday, and also the last day of the first year I’ve known you. Yet here we are, each in our own corner of the world.

I’ve fallen sick again.

This time, you’re not by my side.

Yesterday was awful—I spent the whole day in a haze. I wanted you to hold me in your arms, to act spoiled with you, to eat the meals you cook, to fall asleep wrapped in your embrace. I wanted to shrink down so small that I could hide away in your pocket.

That way, no matter where you went, I could tag along anytime, anywhere.

People have gotten so used to sharing the good news but keeping the bad to themselves. And this little bit of bad—me being sick—isn’t even worth mentioning, so I don’t want you to know.

If this were a month ago, I’d have made sure you saw me like this. So you’d pity me, worry over me, take care of me, and go soft on me.

But now? I don’t want any of it.

Last time at the hotel, you said you’d make the same choice as me. I couldn’t help but wonder in secret—if I weren’t lying here in this guesthouse bed right now, but in a hospital instead, would you really do it?

Acute gastroenteritis.

Or no—a stage accident, bad enough to break an arm or a leg. Would you come?

If not, I’d be heartbroken, but I’d understand.

If yes, I’d be thrilled, but I’d ache for you too.

Yan Ningxi, if someday down the line you find out I used to like Teacher He—that I approached you and chased after you just to get revenge on him—how mad would you get? Mad enough to hit me and yell at me? Or so furious you’d lose all hope?

Hit me, yell at me! That way, once you’ve let it all out, I can soothe you.

Yan Ningxi, “I like you” isn’t just words. The way I like you is the kind where I want to stay by your side for a hundred years, even when we’re both old and gray, with hair as white as snow—I’d still be there with you, basking in the sunlight.

Winter snow scenes are beautiful, but turning white-haired overnight is too short-lived, not romantic at all. I want to wander ten thousand miles with you, hand in hand through the long years. Do I have that honor?

On fine days, the daylily courtyard stays small; in the west wind, oranges and pomelos grow lush and long. The pomelo—that’s you and me.