The summer sun was always too harsh to look at directly.
Gu Yu found herself turned 180 degrees by Jiang Bomu, who steadied her by the shoulders. Instinctively, she kept her eyes lowered. She picked up the pendant to examine it carefully, not even daring to look up.
The twilight sky she admired seemed to have been touched by a spell. Suddenly, it blazed even more brilliantly than the sun’s rays.
“It seems my taste isn’t bad.”
The voice across from her carried a smile. Gu Yu smiled back brightly, but she still didn’t dare raise her eyes. She was afraid the other woman would see the delight in them.
Pressing down her surging heartbeat, Gu Yu asked softly, “Sister, why are you giving me a present all of a sudden?”
This was the second gift. The first was a welcome present. What was this one for?
“It just felt like it suited you,” Jiang Bomu said, her gaze traveling over Gu Yu. “So I bought it.”
Her cousin, Bo Shiyue, was the Design Director at Zhenyan Jewelry. Every piece she personally designed was one-of-a-kind in the world, making them nearly impossible to get. But there was no need to tell Gu Yu that; Jiang Bomu didn’t elaborate.
A gift conveys a sentiment. Knowing its monetary value would only burden the recipient.
Gu Yu could barely contain her bubbling joy. She lowered her head to wash her hands and said, “I also have a gift for you. I’ll go get it!”
Once the door to her room was closed, she finally let her smile bloom wide. A look of pure happiness crept up, feature by feature, until her brows and the corners of her eyes were bathed in a gentle spring breeze.
She sat in front of her vanity mirror and studied the pendant. Two small fish swam and circled each other, shaped like the letter “Y”.
Gu Yu blinked. Jiang Bomu was truly thoughtful in her gift-giving. It was almost as if this were tailored specifically for her.
After confirming she wouldn’t show any more giddy delight, Gu Yu carefully picked up the sheet of paper and walked out of the guest bedroom.
She spread the paper out on the long table and asked, her smile radiant, “Besides testing my cooking, how about testing my painting skills too?”
Jiang Bomu approached. She looked at the painting, astonished.
She was wearing the same dress from yesterday, sitting on a swing, gently leaning against ropes entwined with flowering vines. Her sleeping face was serene and peaceful. The hem of her skirt spread out into a path of flowers. Behind her, vast expanses of sunset clouds.
Jiang Bomu traced her fingers over the oil-painting-like texture of her own portrait.
Every time she attended an event, fans would create artwork. She’d seen it before, but always through a phone screen. It was never as moving as this, something that made her very soul tremble.
“Thank you…” she said softly, afraid of waking the sleeping person in the picture. “I love it.”
Gu Yu felt a little embarrassed, though. “I originally wanted to wait until the frame arrived before giving it to you. Just this one sheet of paper seems so hastily done.”
“Hastily done?” Jiang Bomu looked up and smiled. “It’s clearly a sentiment to be cherished most dearly.”
After receiving such heartfelt praise, Gu Yu floated on air back to her noodle-cooking. She followed the steps strictly, but in the end, she still messed up when adding the seasonings. She’d added far too much soy sauce. It looked like a gruesome crime scene. A complete disaster.
Gu Yu: “…Maybe we really should order takeout.”
Jiang Bomu said nothing. She just stared quietly at that pot of dark cuisine. The next moment, she picked up a bowl and encouraged, “It’s fine. Getting this far is already great.”
Gu Yu watched with her own eyes as Jiang Bomu chewed several times, swallowed without a change in expression, and then took another bite.
Every move the beauty made was pleasing to the eye, as if she were savoring a rare delicacy. Unfortunately, it was just a bowl of blackish soup with noodles.
Gu Yu silently filled a bowl for herself too. After psyching herself up, she took a bite. Unexpectedly, the taste was surprisingly not bad. Her eyes lit up. If she just used less soy sauce, this bowl of noodles would definitely be perfect—in color, smell, and taste!
Jiang Bomu looked up with a smile. “Congratulations. Your poached egg noodles have officially passed the test.”
“It’s all thanks to Sister’s teaching,” Gu Yu grinned sweetly, then made a firm resolution. “Next time, I’ll definitely make a perfect bowl for you to try!”
“Alright.”
After lunch, Jiang Bomu had planned on taking a nap. After all, she’d been traveling for two days. The strings in her heart were constantly taut, without a moment’s peace.
On the way home, she had felt drowsy and had forced herself to stay awake. She hadn’t expected the drowsiness to dissipate after eating. So instead of going to her room, she went to work on her digital oil painting.
Naturally, Gu Yu kept her company, conveniently asking when she planned to start learning to paint properly.
Jiang Bomu was seriously filling in areas with bright yellow paint. “Tomorrow,” she said.
Her brain felt like mush today. She definitely wouldn’t learn anything. Besides, she also wanted to have a good rest.
Gu Yu nodded. The two continued painting.
But it felt a little too quiet. Gu Yu took out her phone, scrolled a bit, and randomly chose a song to play. A melodious tune flowed out, followed by the slightly melancholic voice of a female singer, pouring her heart out:
“I asked why / That girl sent you a text / And why you / just bowed your head in silence without an explanation…”
Gu Yu hummed along softly. The tedious task of color-filling suddenly became lively and interesting.
Jiang Bomu listened quietly until the song ended. In the gap before the next one, she set down her brush and asked, “Want to watch a movie?”
The movie-watching she meant wasn’t at a cinema, but at home. To the left of the bathroom was a small room she had converted into a screening room. Aside from a projector and a screen, there was only a loveseat and a small night light. Utterly simple, but full of atmosphere.
Gu Yu looked around, then sat on the inner side of the loveseat. Jiang Bomu settled down beside her. The sensual scent of tuberose flowers drifted faintly around her nose, colliding with her heart. The atmosphere turned inexplicably ambiguous.
The film suddenly started playing. The SARFT’s opening theme music was extremely loud, instantly dispelling a lot of the romantic tension. Gu Yu kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, landing her gaze on the screen.
This film was quite old. She wasn’t a big fan of old movies. Taking advantage of the dim space, she boldly sneaked a glance at the person beside her. She was watching intently and focused. The moving images from the movie shrank into a tiny, colorful cluster in her pupils—like an ever-changing, extremely beautiful twilight.
Her lashes fluttered gently, her dense, long eyelashes casting a small shadow downward. Then, in a flash, that twilight bloomed again, never stopping.
Afraid she’d be caught looking like a starry-eyed fool, Gu Yu pulled her gaze away. She leaned back against the soft sofa, toying with her pendant. Her wandering gaze then fell on Jiang Bomu’s slender, straight back. Her shoulder blades subtly protruded, like wings poised for flight.
The posture of a female star is truly elegant and captivating, she marveled, allowing herself to boldly stare. On a whim, she reached out and rested her arm along the back of the sofa.
If the screen had eyes, it would surely mistake them for lovers embracing.
Gu Yu’s heart was filled with a secret, giddy joy. She was just about to lean a little closer to the right when Jiang Bomu suddenly moved. Gu Yu froze instantly. But it turned out she’d only lowered her head; she hadn’t noticed her little maneuver at all.
Gu Yu relaxed, then silently mocked herself for being so paranoid. She stayed still and seriously tried to focus on the movie. She’d definitely have to chat with Jiang Bomu about it afterwards—she needed something insightful to say.
A few minutes later, Jiang Bomu moved again. Her gracefully curved neck dipped lower and lower, bending into a pitiful arc. The next second, she pitched forward.
Gu Yu had half-expected it. Quick as a flash, she caught her. She turned her head to look. Her eyes were tightly shut. Twilight had melted into night.
She really was asleep.
Gu Yu breathed a quiet sigh of relief. Thank goodness she had caught her in time. She gently settled Jiang Bomu’s head against her shoulder. The floral scent filled her nostrils.
She tilted her face again, this time just slightly, to study the sleeping beauty. A sense of satisfaction filled her heart. The embrace she’d only imagined had come true so easily.
But it still wasn’t enough.
Perhaps the darkness nourished desire and courage. For two seconds, Gu Yu stared fixedly at the alluring tip of the beauty’s nose. As if bewitched, she leaned in and kissed it softly.
The projector was still diligently working, mechanically playing out the clichéd scenes of the movie.
The two people embracing on the sofa were a picture far more worth recording than any film.
