This day, it was raining in Chongqing.
As soon as winter rain started, it got bitterly cold. With Christmas approaching, many shops around Liberation Monument had Santa Claus dolls displayed outside.
Many passing shop windows were plastered with Christmas trees, and roadside stalls were selling fresh flowers and beautifully wrapped peace apples.
Chongqing rarely saw snow. Jian Shichu had grown up in this city, but she had forgotten which year she last saw snow here.
A mall was holding an event with a snow machine, and snow drifted down from the sky, mixing with Chongqing’s cold wind to give off a bit of an idol drama vibe.
The scent in the bridal shop was unique, with each gown in its own special spot, like works of art. Jian Shichu looked—the one in the window display had already been taken down.
The sales consultant led the way ahead: “Miss, which gown catches your eye? I can help you try it on, or I can show you around. Our best gowns this year are all new Chinese-style. Would you like to take a look?”
Jian Shichu stopped in her tracks, glanced around, then unlocked her phone: “Do you have this gown?”
She had snapped a photo of it last night while Wen Zhixu was asleep, tilting her wrist to show it to the sales consultant.
The sales consultant smiled, meeting her gaze: “Miss, you have great taste. There’s only one left of this gown, and it was reserved by a gentleman the day before yesterday.”
“But we have other styles from the same designer.” The sales consultant took two steps forward, luring her over.
Jian Shichu’s brows furrowed slightly as she paused for a moment: “Can this one be custom-made?”
“I’m very sorry, ma’am. Thank you so much for your interest in our bridal shop. This gown is ready stock right now, and the design has seasonality and limited availability. We have many other unique styles—I can recommend some similar ones, or we can look for others that match your aesthetic together.”
Jian Shichu let out a long breath. Hearing that the gown was reserved made the window display suddenly seem dimmer.
After a good while, the sales consultant called out to her twice more, pulling her back to her senses.
“I’d like to ask—when is he coming to pick it up?” Jian Shichu’s voice carried a hint of hope.
The sales consultant clearly hesitated on that question, taking about five seconds before answering: “This gentleman is from out of town. He called our store, paid the deposit over the phone, and said he’d come pick it up on a business trip on the fifth of next month.”
Jian Shichu thought for a moment: “Okay, thank you.”
This year’s Spring Festival came early—January 20th was New Year’s Eve. After leaving the bridal shop, Jian Shichu glanced back once more, still holding onto some hope.
On the way home, Jian Shichu bought a bouquet of flowers, the same kind as those in the Beihai apartment back when they were students. Wen Zhixu liked the ice shard blue ones, that gradient edging into glass blue, glistening with water droplets like spilled glaze.
Lately, Wen Zhixu had been staying home writing her book, not going anywhere usually. Once she got into the zone, that was how it was.
She didn’t even notice Jian Shichu coming home until the roses were arranged in a vase on the bedroom desk.
“Where’d you get these?” Wen Zhixu closed her laptop and turned to look at her, a smile spilling from her lips.
Jian Shichu leaned against the desk and replied: “The flower shop. There were lots of flowers for sale today, more than usual, and the streets were packed with people too.”
After closing her laptop, Wen Zhixu stood up, flicked her fingertip, and a water droplet from the ice shard blue rose splashed onto the notebook.
“When are the streets not packed?” Wen Zhixu asked with a laugh.
Just then, her phone rang— a message from An Ran. Jian Shichu’s intake of breath was drowned out by the WeChat ‘ding-dong’. As the screen lit up, Wen Zhixu picked up the phone and glanced at it.
[An Ran: I’m downstairs. Come down quick.]
Wen Zhixu’s fingers tapped rapidly on the screen.
[Wen Zhixu: Be right there.]
“An Ran wants to hang out. I’m heading out.” Wen Zhixu turned, skirted past Jian Shichu, grabbed her coat from the rack, and flung it over her shoulders.
Jian Shichu turned to follow: “Where are you going?”
“Shopping with her.” Wen Zhixu answered without looking back, bending down to grab shoes from the cabinet and pushing her forefinger against them to slide them on.
“Oh, come back early.” Jian Shichu stood behind her, swallowing the words she wanted to say. Wen Zhixu casually acknowledged her twice, then ‘bang’—the door opened and slammed shut, letting a gust of wind into the house.
In that instant, the home fell quiet.
Wen Zhixu hadn’t grabbed a scarf. After pocketing her phone, she strode off, zipping her jacket all the way up and pulling her hood forward as she headed to the neighborhood gate.
A gray sedan with hazard lights on rolled down its window. After Wen Zhixu got in the passenger seat, she hit the window switch.
An Ran set down her phone and glanced sideways at her: “It’s Christmas today, and Liberation Monument is jammed solid like a red line. You sure know how to pick the day.”
“Christmas?” Wen Zhixu seemed to just realize it. Her mind suddenly flashed to what Jian Shichu had said earlier about the streets being extra packed—that was what she meant.
Only after realizing it did she start regretting her blunt response. Wen Zhixu said: “I scheduled it for today. I forgot it’s Christmas and traffic would be hell.”
“No worries. I was just afraid you’d get stuck and panic.” An Ran started the car, chin-jabbing at the seatbelt.
Wen Zhixu reacted, twisting slightly to pull it over—’click’, the buckle sounded just as the car pulled forward.
Wen Zhixu messaged Jian Shichu from the car.
[Wen Zhixu: Want strawberry cake?]
[Jian Shichu: Yes, forty inches worth.]
Cold sweat beaded on Wen Zhixu’s forehead. That message made her face drop—she knew Jian Shichu was joking, but joking like that meant she was really upset.
[Wen Zhixu: Okay, but I’m afraid I can’t find a forty-inch one. Doudou, how about two twenty-inch ones?]
[Wen Zhixu: If not, eight five-inch ones.]
Wen Zhixu didn’t know how to coax her, but she tried going along with Jian Shichu’s mood, even adding an emoji at the end.
[Jian Shichu: Fine fine, I’m not mad. One five-inch is enough. Come back soon.]
Jian Shichu always meant what she said and followed through—easy to coax, but only by Wen Zhixu.
An Ran glanced over and saw Wen Zhixu smiling at her screen, so she asked: “What’s got you so happy?”
“Nothing.” Wen Zhixu pressed the side button to lock the screen, pocketed her phone again, loosened her seatbelt, and tugged the zipper down at her collar.
An Ran said: “Buying a wedding gown to gift someone is pretty romantic. Did you take her measurements?”
Wen Zhixu replied: “Yeah, last night while she was asleep. 82, 59, 88.”
“Measuring her in her sleep—you’re resourceful.” An Ran kept her eyes on the road ahead. “How tall is she?”
“176 cm. Once it’s altered, An Ran, can I leave it at your place first? I’ll pick it up after the New Year.”
An Ran smiled: “Sure. But how are you gonna give it to her? Have her wear it? Or custom a box to pack it in?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet. My initial idea is a trip—what do you think?” Wen Zhixu looked at her excitedly. “I always feel like I’m no good at this stuff. Not very romantic, not great at dating.”
An Ran burst out laughing: “This is you not knowing how to date? You’re gifting her a wedding gown. A trip’s a great idea, but I think she’d prefer seeing you in the gown.”
“That day, the first time I saw that gown, I thought she’d like seeing me wear it—or maybe want to wear it for me to see. I concluded the former.” Wen Zhixu said it while recalling the scene.
“When we first met, I thought she was like me—not big on interacting with people. Turns out, no. She’s easy to get along with and pretty popular.” Wen Zhixu continued, “I remember her telling me that before I knew her, she’d been paying attention to me for a long time. So she’s always seeking common ground with me, or creating it if there isn’t any.
“That process makes her develop this protective instinct toward me, always clinging to the things I like. There are so many moments where she thinks she’s the one who turned me. She doesn’t say it, but I can feel it. Truth is, no—because I fell for her, I realized I like girls. Because of those moments, she subconsciously takes on more in life without realizing it, and that’s not good. There’s a saying that a wedding gown is every girl’s dream. She lives plainly like clear tea, her ideals are me, her dreams are me too. So with this gown, I want to tell her: the future is so long. We’re the same gender, so we’ll support each other. If we both can’t walk anymore, I don’t want her carrying me—we’ll just stand still, right there, and go nowhere.”
An Ran’s heart was deeply touched by these words. Wen Zhixu’s earnest recounting gave her a whole new understanding of the person before her.
Don’t take a relationship for granted, and don’t make the other truly shoulder more in love.
“Xiao Xu, I think I get why I had that feeling now.” An Ran let out a soft breath. “Some girls are only weak on the surface.”
An Ran chuckled lightly: “If it were me thinking of it, I probably wouldn’t come up with so much.”
Wen Zhixu hadn’t just come to understand this now. Several years ago, after breaking up with Jian Shichu, she had already realized that the word “love” was very heavy. Saying it aloud felt effortless and painless, but truly acting on its meaning—in one’s youth—meant expressing love in ways that hurt the other person.
It was only after growing up that she understood: those stubborn, tough words didn’t just wound the other party—they also hurt the youthful self who once yearned so fervently for love.
The sales consultant at the bridal shop had been waiting at the door ever since Wen Zhixu sent her message. The moment Wen Zhixu and An Ran stepped inside, the consultant served them freshly brewed tea.
Wen Zhixu had come with a specific goal in mind. Her gaze immediately locked onto the display window—the wedding dress was gone, replaced.
“Hello, I want this wedding dress.” Wen Zhixu pulled up the photo on her phone.
She handed it over. The sales consultant barely glanced at it before smiling back. “Miss Wen, this is the very last piece of this gown. A gentleman has already put down a deposit and will come pick it up after New Year’s. Just a moment ago, another young lady came by to ask about it too.”
Wen Zhixu glanced at An Ran. Hearing that the dress had been sold, An Ran asked, “Can’t it be custom-made anymore?”
The sales consultant shook her head and recited the standard lines to Wen Zhixu.
“Then… may I ask, what exact day is this gentleman coming?” Wen Zhixu still clung to a sliver of hope.
“The 5th.”
