The next morning, Gu Yu was roused by the gentle morning light. Pushing open her door, she saw Jiang Bomu preparing breakfast.
The egg cracked against the edge of the pan, then slid into the sizzling heat. Tssss. A flip of the wrist. A brilliant, golden yellow.
“Smells amazing,” Gu Yu said, rubbing her stomach. “I’m hungry.”
“Xunxun’s up?” Jiang Bomu turned, a gentle smile on her face. “If you’re hungry, go brush your teeth and wash up. What are you standing there for?”
“Right away!”
Gu Yu bounced into the bathroom. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she couldn’t help but smile.
Everything was just like before.
Lin Sijia’s appearance had been nothing more than a small bump on the road while hiking a mountain. Just step over it, and you’d reach the summit, where you’d embrace the most beautiful twilight.
Filled with this hope, Gu Yu’s smile was still irrepressible when she sat down for breakfast.
“Stomach’s not hurting anymore?” Jiang Bomu bit into a piece of toast. “Why so happy?”
“Yep! I’m happy because my stomach doesn’t hurt,” Gu Yu beamed, simply echoing her words.
Jiang Bomu looked up at her, her gaze finding Gu Yu’s for a long, unbroken moment.
Gu Yu’s heart, now alert and lively, instantly started galloping. Why was she staring at her like that? Did she have something on her face?
She instinctively touched her cheek. Smooth and soft, just like a peeled egg. She felt a surge of self-appreciation.
“Your happiness,” Jiang Bomu began, her words slow and measured, “is truly a simple thing.”
Gu Yu slowly blinked. Was a pain-free stomach not cause for celebration? Although her happiness wasn’t actually from that, it was still a reason to celebrate, wasn’t it?
Gu Yu asked, “So, when do you feel happy?”
“Probably… when I bought my apartment.”
Jiang Bomu looked around. From the furniture down to the aromatherapy diffuser, she’d chosen everything herself. That day, she had truly felt happiness. Finally, a home that was hers.
Gu Yu said, helplessly, “That’s ages ago. What about recently?”
It took her a moment of thought to answer. “Yesterday, when filming wrapped, I suppose.”
To Gu Yu, these weren’t just fleeting happy moments anymore. They were proud milestones checked off a life list.
She thought a bit more. “What about the small joys? Like the moment the sun rises, a magnificent sunset glow, or finding a pretty wildflower by the roadside…”
Never. Not even once.
Jiang Bomu lowered her eyes, unwilling to continue this topic.
A beautiful day shouldn’t start on a lackluster note.
Just as she was about to change the subject, Gu Yu spoke up. “In a few days, I’ll take you to find some joy.”
She counted on her fingers, then gave a definite date: “…Four days from now.”
Jiang Bomu was curious. “Why specifically four days?”
“I’m on my period right now. Can’t bring my A-game,” Gu Yu answered matter-of-factly. “Shared joy is double joy.”
Jiang Bomu fell silent. An inexplicable panic fluttered in her heart. Was it what she thought she meant?
“Right, you don’t have any schedules in the next few days, do you?”
Gu Yu’s question pulled her back to reality. Jiang Bomu snapped out of it, shaking her head gently. Then hesitated, and nodded.
She couldn’t let their relationship spiral into an unmanageable abyss.
“So, do you or don’t you?” Gu Yu looked at her, puzzled. “Forget it. I’ll just ask Tao Tao.”
She was a celebrity, after all. It was normal to forget. Tao Tao would definitely know. She picked up her phone to unlock it.
“…No schedules.” Jiang Bomu bit her lip and warned her in a low voice, “Xunxun. Don’t do anything reckless.”
Their relationship could only be the most ordinary type, housemates at best, maybe friends.
Even if a small seed was sprouting in her heart, she was suppressing its growth, denying it every drop of rain or ray of sun.
“Huh? What did you say?” Gu Yu was on her phone and didn’t catch it. “Do what?”
“…Nothing.” Jiang Bomu shook her head. In any case, when that day came, she would refuse without hesitation.
Because of that sentence, Jiang Bomu spent the entire day in a haze, thinking about how she would refuse when the time came. Even her digital oil painting couldn’t soothe her. Her brush soaked in color 11, but her eyes were on 07, and she painted over the space for 01.
By the time she tried to fix it, the paint was already dry. She scrambled to cover it with a thick layer of 01, barely managing to conceal the mistake.
“Sister, how can you be so unfocused?” Gu Yu looked at her oddly. “Is something on your mind?”
Was she thinking about Lin Sijia? The very thought soured the taste of the snacks Gu Yu was eating.
Jiang Bomu certainly wasn’t going to admit it. She rinsed her brush and said quietly, “No. I just misread the number.”
Hmph. Liar. Gu Yu pouted. She couldn’t even look her in the eye and say it.
“Xunxun, could you turn on the light?”
And now she’s changing the subject!
Gu Yu sighed. As much as she wanted to know why, she wasn’t willing to interrogate Jiang Bomu and make them both unhappy. Besides, she didn’t want to bring up Lin Sijia’s name again.
She got up and flipped the switch. The dim living room was instantly bright.
It had been sunny in the morning. But in the afternoon, the sky had suddenly filled with dark clouds. It might rain tonight.
To avoid getting caught in a downpour, they decided to head out at five—a short walk before going to the supermarket.
Unexpectedly, just past 4:30, a fine rain began to fall, like silk, like mist. It traced the glass windowpane with a clear sheen, while in the distance, the city’s outline blurred, lost in a vast expanse of water and haze.
Gu Yu didn’t like rainy days. She decided to bail. “Let’s go tomorrow instead.”
But Jiang Bomu was gazing out the window with keen interest. She even opened it, reaching her hand out into the soft breeze that carried the fine, icy rain to her palm and fingertips.
“Xunxun,” she said, looking back with a smile, “I think I understand what you meant by happiness. I think holding an umbrella and strolling side-by-side in the drizzle would be something romantic and joyful.”
Romantic.
That word captured Gu Yu’s mind completely. She pictured the scene Jiang Bomu described, and her heart fluttered.
“Okay. Let’s go do something romantic and joyful!”
Downstairs, Gu Yu insisted on holding the umbrella.
Jiang Bomu refused immediately. “I’m the older sister.”
“I don’t care if you’re my mom,” Gu Yu said, deftly snatching the handle. “Ever heard the story of Kong Rong giving up the pear? You have to let me hold the umbrella.”
Jiang Bomu was astonished. What kind of twisted logic was that?
They were at a stalemate. Then Jiang Bomu said, “You’re not as tall as me.”
Gu Yu froze. She wanted to scream like a poked panda. It was only a 2cm difference! And her shoes had a bit more lift—their heights were the same right now!
Whatever.
With one hand holding the umbrella and the other arm pulling Jiang Bomu close by the shoulder, she stepped into the rain.
Raindrops drummed on the umbrella, the sound crisp and insistent.
Jiang Bomu’s heartbeat was much the same. She turned her head slightly, glanced at Gu Yu, who was walking with serious determination, then quickly lowered her eyes, watching the small splashes of water blooming at their feet.
Their clothes brushed, their shoulders bumped. She realized the space under this umbrella was simply too small. Gu Yu’s presence filled it, relentlessly seeping into her senses, making her want to draw even closer.
Jiang Bomu bit her lip, even her breathing turning cautious.
She fixed her gaze straight ahead, but her eyes disobediently wandered to the hand holding the umbrella handle. Slender, defined knuckles, long jade-like fingers.
A thought unbidden intruded upon her mind—Perfect for joyful things.
Her face instantly flushed with heat. She averted her gaze a second before Gu Yu could notice.
The glow of a nearby streetlight was hazy, illuminating only a shallow puddle. The rain suppressed the dust, cleansing the entire city until it was fresh and new, vibrant and alive.
“We seem to need quite a few things today,” Gu Yu mused aloud. “The kitchen’s almost empty, and we’re running low on snacks. How about we just walk for a bit and head back? We can go to the supermarket tomorrow.”
But Jiang Bomu had one item on her mind and was adamant. “We have to go.”
“Is there something you absolutely need to buy?” Gu Yu was puzzled. The ingredients in the fridge could make do for two meals. Snacks weren’t essential. She couldn’t think of anything that important.
“That… that thing of yours,” Jiang Bomu murmured, struggling. “We need to buy some.”
Understanding dawned. Gu Yu asked, “Pads?”
“…Mhm.”
How could she still be so shy about it? Gu Yu sighed.
Entering the supermarket, she glanced back at the rain. It seemed to be getting heavier.
Jiang Bomu brushed the small drops of water from her arm and looked up, only to notice that Gu Yu’s left shoulder was completely soaked. The pure white T-shirt was darkened, clinging tightly to her skin.
“Xunxun! Why don’t you take better care of yourself?!” She was suddenly angry. “You’re still on your period!”
It was also her own fault for not noticing sooner. Guilt and regret flooded Jiang Bomu.
But Gu Yu was utterly unbothered. She blinked, her face brightening. “You can finally say ‘period’ without being squeamish!”
Jiang Bomu froze. She almost laughed despite her anger. This was the moment she chose to focus on that?
She dragged Gu Yu over to buy a towel and draped it gently over the wet shoulder to soak up the rainwater. Her expression, however, was nowhere near as gentle. Her lips were pressed tightly into a straight line.
Bringing Gu Yu to the supermarket in the rain had been a mistake, and she regretted it now. What if, on top of her period, she caught a cold or her stomach started hurting again?
“It’s nothing,” Gu Yu consoled her. “I’ve got a strong constitution. You don’t need to be so delicate with me. I could thrive on scraps and gruel.”
After buying their things, Jiang Bomu didn’t waste another second. She paid and pulled Gu Yu outside, intending to hail a taxi.
But the rain made transportation difficult. So many people were stuck at the supermarket. They waited, but no taxi came.
Gu Yu proposed, “Let’s just walk back. It’s just a short way.”
Jiang Bomu could only agree, already planning to force two bowls of ginger soup down Gu Yu’s throat the moment they got home.
The journey back wasn’t as relaxed and pleasant as the way there. Worried the rain would worsen, Jiang Bomu walked swiftly and urgently. Gu Yu could barely keep up. The wind and rain howled in her ears, but the splashing footsteps were especially cheerful.
She shouted over the storm, “Jiang Bomu, are you happy?!”
“Are you still being silly at a time like this?”
Jiang Bomu pretended to be stern, but couldn’t hold back her smile. She answered the childish question anyway. “Mhm. I’m very happy.”
Gu Yu called out again, drawing out the words: “What did you say? I can’t hear you—”
The driving rain isolated the people around them. Under the umbrella, drafts blew in from all sides, yet it formed a separate, private space.
In all the world, between heaven and earth, there was only Gu Yu and Jiang Bomu.
So Gu Yu could throw all caution to the wind and cry out: “I’m very happy!”
She’d never been this happy.
And all of it had been given to her by Jiang Bomu.
Jiang Bomu took a deep breath. “Thank you, Xunxun.” Her voice was sincere.
“Thank me for what?” Gu Yu blinked.
Jiang Bomu stopped walking.
Bewildered, Gu Yu stopped as well.
The next second, a warm body embraced her. Arms wrapped tightly around her neck. A fragrant softness filled her arms.
The person in her arms nuzzled against her ear with a soft cheek, speaking softly amid the deafening symphony of rain and heartbeats. “Thank you… for sharing your happiness with me.”
Such small, trivial happiness. Yet it was so utterly captivating.
Just like Gu Yu’s presence.
