Chapter 50: Indulgence

Those words seemed to carry their own echo, looping endlessly through the living room.

For a split second, Jiang Bomu’s mind went blank.

This was what she had always wanted. But upon learning the final deadline, all she felt was a spreading reluctance, aching and swelling inside her.

They said five days. But tomorrow she still had to attend an event. The time they could truly spend together was already running short.

The hand picking up food paused for only a moment before recovering its usual rhythm. It was just that today’s cooking was truly terrible; every bite tasted like wax.

Jiang Bomu lowered her eyes, mechanically chewing her food. She forced herself to swallow, finally lifting her gaze to plaster on a smile. “Xunxun, you’ll finally get to see your mom and dad.”

As an actress, she could easily perform the most sincere-looking smile.

That smile stung Gu Yu’s eyes. She gave a soft “Mm,” and looked down to reply to her mom.

[Of course I’m surprised! I’ve missed you guys so much! hugs.jpg]

She put her phone away. Her own face reflected on the dark screen. Even though she’d been talking playfully, her expression was far from happy. Her gaze was calm, the corners of her mouth downturned, as if someone owed her eight million.

“Eat your food,” Jiang Bomu prompted.

Gu Yu met her gaze and asked, “Will you… miss me?”

“Of course I will,” Jiang Bomu said gently. “If you have time, you’re always welcome to come visit.”

Such formal words.

Gu Yu pressed her lips together and asked again, “Is there anything else you want to say to me?”

Jiang Bomu stared at her for a couple of seconds before letting out a soft laugh. “Xunxun, there are still five days left. We can talk then. Why get all sentimental now?”

That was true. Gu Yu’s expression softened. If she started worrying about things way in advance, these five days would be miserable. Why borrow trouble?

She’d been obsessing over a tiny detail. Gu Yu picked up her chopsticks, choosing the stir-fried pork with peppers which looked the most appetizing. “I love this dish,” she said with a smile. “It’s just a little spicy.”

She didn’t bring it up again, trying her best to act as they always had.

“Then have a glass of milk,” Jiang Bomu stood up. “Perfect, I haven’t had one today either.”

Gu Yu made a face, reluctant. “I’ve been drinking this for over a month straight!”

“And you’ll keep drinking it from now on. Remember to buy a carton of milk for your dorm when you’re back at school.”

Jiang Bomu’s voice drifted over, mixing with the sound of water washing a cup. Gu Yu felt a bit lost. In a few days, she wouldn’t hear those words anymore. No one would be reminding her to drink milk.

Without thinking, she stepped forward and hugged that gentle, soft silhouette.

“Being cute won’t work on me,” Jiang Bomu smiled. “From now on, you have to send me a daily video of you drinking milk, or else I’ll…”

Seeing her fail to come up with a threat, Gu Yu taunted, “Or else what? Come to my school in person?”

At that, both fell into a brief silence. They both knew it. Jiang Bomu’s special status meant she couldn’t go there.

And besides, Gu Yu thought self-deprecatingly, she doesn’t even like me. Even if she weren’t a celebrity, she wouldn’t take the initiative to see me.

“It’s not impossible,” Jiang Bomu said quietly.

Even though she knew it was just a throwaway line, Gu Yu felt a little flutter of joy. “Great,” she grinned. “Then I won’t drink it every day, so you have to come find me.”

The afternoon sun was warm. After lunch, Jiang Bomu decided against reading the script, and Gu Yu didn’t feel like painting either. They discussed what to do to pass the day.

“Want to go out and have fun?” Jiang Bomu asked.

Gu Yu glanced at the blazing sun outside and immediately vetoed that idea. Her eyes swept over to the digital oil painting. A careful look showed only two colors remained to finish it.

But she didn’t feel like working on it. There were still five days; she’d definitely finish before she left.

Jiang Bomu sighed, resigned. “Even lazier than Wan An.”

“I’m just tired!” Gu Yu declared, utterly shameless.

“Fine. Next time, then.”

The moment the words left her mouth, Gu Yu excitedly proposed, “Let’s watch a movie! There’s one I want to see.”

“Which one?”

“Midsummer Youth.”

Jiang Bomu paused, her expression turning slightly unnatural. “Let’s pick a different one.”

She often watched her old TV shows and movies, but she rarely revisited this, her debut film, for one simple reason: Lin Sijia.

She was afraid that re-watching it would make her miss the past, make her foolishly seek Lin Sijia out again. But it seemed that wouldn’t happen now; all she felt for Lin Sijia was disgust.

Thinking of this, she changed her mind. “Alright, let’s watch that one.”

Gu Yu raised an eyebrow. Why had she changed her mind so fast?

But she didn’t feel like probing. From her past experience, Jiang Bomu wouldn’t tell her anyway. Why embarrass herself?

Gu Yu walked into the pitch-dark home theater room, switched on the floor lamp, and searched for the film. Jiang Bomu walked in holding Wan An and closed the door behind her.

Wan An had never been in here before. It jumped down from Jiang Bomu’s arms and began inspecting its new territory, sniffing here and there, before clumsily hopping onto the sofa and settling right between the two of them.

“You really know how to be fair,” Jiang Bomu tapped its little nose. “Come on, which mommy do you love most?”

Gu Yu laughed at her question, hitting the play button. “You’re just making things hard for Wan An.”

Wan An cooperated with a little “meow.” Its pitiful, thin mewl was drowned out by the deafening SARFT intro music. Then came the sound of wind through wheat fields and the recitation of texts, blending together, pulling Gu Yu’s thoughts back seven years.

“I still remember the first time I watched this movie. I was so little, I didn’t really get anything besides knowing it was an arthouse film.”

Jiang Bomu asked, “Anything else?”

“It was only when I grew up that I realized it’s a GL film,” Gu Yu said cheekily. “My grandma’s taste was pretty progressive.”

Jiang Bomu shook her head. “I don’t think Grandma Qiao meant it that way.”

She remembered Grandma Qiao telling her that this movie was based on her own school days, just about the friendship between the two female leads. Anything else was just viewers’ imaginations running wild.

Gu Yu was surprised. “But you and Lin Sijia come across so gay in it.”

She paused, thinking it was bad to use real names, and quickly switched to the movie names. “Qiao Hui and Chen Wanzhen; they’re really gay.”

Jiang Bomu had played Chen Wanzhen—or rather, Grandma’s friend.

“Probably because I’m not straight,” Jiang Bomu said. “I got too deep into the role.”

“Clearly, Lin Sijia tricked you,” Gu Yu said, feeling indignant on her behalf.

Jiang Bomu looked nostalgically at the screen showing her seven-year-younger self. “It’s all in the past now,” she said, calmly.

“But I still want to know why you two had a falling out,” Gu Yu asked. “Was it because you confessed and got rejected?”

The moment she asked, she realized she was just embarrassing herself again. Jiang Bomu definitely wouldn’t—

“No.”

Huh? She actually answered this time? Gu Yu quickly threw out a few more guesses, but Jiang Bomu denied them all, trying to change the subject. “Just watch the movie properly.”

She was so quick to deny, so why not just say the reason? It had been so long. Why keep it a secret? Gu Yu grumbled internally but didn’t dare say it out loud.

She huffed. “Are you afraid I’ll find out and sell the story to the paparazzi?”

“There’s certainly a chance,” Jiang Bomu said airily. “So I plan to take it to my grave.”

Gu Yu: “…”

Halfway through, she yawned and leaned against Jiang Bomu’s shoulder to keep watching.

Jiang Bomu asked, bewildered, “Is this movie so boring?”

“No,” Gu Yu said, reaching an arm around her. “Just wanted an excuse to hold you.”

Jiang Bomu was thrown off by her blunt words and sudden physical contact. She didn’t respond, focusing intently on the movie instead. She hadn’t expected Gu Yu’s next sentence to leave her even more flustered.

“Actually, last time we watched a movie, I stole a kiss while you were asleep. Not on the lips, though. On the tip of your nose.”

When was that last movie night? She’d liked her even then?

Jiang Bomu was a bit at a loss. The music conveniently swelled. She pretended not to hear, staring fixedly at the screen, but the scenes passed by in a blur; she absorbed nothing.

She held on until the film ended. As she was about to wake Gu Yu, she looked down to see her eyes closed, her even, warm breath fanning against her neck.

She suddenly understood a little why Gu Yu had stolen that kiss.

The dim room, the lingering melody, their interweaving breaths, lips so close—everything was conducive to emotion.

So, could she allow herself this one indulgence?

Jiang Bomu gazed at Gu Yu. Gently, with restraint, she gave her a kiss, then immediately turned her face away, her expression filled with regret.

In a place she couldn’t see, the “sleeping” Gu Yu curled her lips into a smile.