Xunxun:
Greetings upon opening this letter.
This past month, I have been constantly pondering how to explain to you the questions you once asked. Simultaneously, I’ve been reflecting on why, back then, I said nothing at all, always silent or evasive.
Perhaps it was precisely because of my silence and evasion that I pushed you further and further away. I have been thinking all along: how exactly can I mend the rifts between us.
That day, when you asked me why I don’t turn off all the lights, I was already prepared to tell you, haltingly. But you said you would wait until I was completely past this matter before telling you, and that you would never rush me—so understanding, so considerate.
What you don’t know is that after you fell asleep, I began phrasing my words, weighing every single one until two in the morning. It’s just that I am only giving you this letter today.
I know you prefer to talk things out face-to-face, but I have always been clumsy with words. I cannot speak eloquently, nor can I calmly recount all these past events. Please forgive me for ultimately telling you in this old-fashioned way. Are you still willing to hear my story?
It seems that from the age of three, I began sleeping on my own. Lights off, door closed, windows shut—I’d sleep soundly until dawn.
Until I was fourteen. Jiang Wende, the man who is nominally my father, came home drunk one night and was on the phone with some boss. Paying debts is only right and proper, but Jiang Wende had no money. He begged for a few more days’ grace. The boss said he could buy my first night, and the old debts would be wiped clean…
Reading up to this point, Gu Yu’s grip instinctively tightened on the thin stationery, crumpling it terribly. She felt it was hard to breathe. She had thought Jiang Bomu was simply afraid of ghosts, or perhaps had seen something she shouldn’t have that left a shadow. She never imagined this would be the reason.
Gu Yu couldn’t help but wonder: if her fourteen-year-old self had encountered such a thing… She shivered, not daring to think any deeper.
How helpless must Jiang Bomu have been back then?
After calming her emotions for a while, Gu Yu continued reading and breathed a sigh of relief. Jiang Wende had still been a halfway decent father, at least not agreeing to such a vile thing.
She hadn’t expected the very next line to be Jiang Wende saying, “Let me keep her for two more years.”
That beast!
Gu Yu closed her eyes, her hands clenched tightly into fists. Jiang Wende was ten times more disgusting than that boss. And because of that unseverable bond of blood, Jiang Bomu must have felt a hundred times more heartache.
The back of her hand was suddenly licked. Gu Yu opened her tear-filled eyes and looked at Wan An. It tilted its head, studying her with curiosity, and then licked her again with its pink little tongue.
“Wan An, be good,” Gu Yu scooped it into her arms. “Read the letter with Mama.”
Wan An’s soft purring helped Gu Yu relax a little. She lowered her eyes, her gaze falling back onto the letter paper.
So, from that night on, I didn’t dare turn the lights off to sleep. A state of light sleep makes me feel more at ease.
After two years of living in constant fear, I welcomed my sixteenth birthday. I used the pocket money I’d painstakingly saved up to buy a small cake. After lighting the candle, the wish I made was to safely make it through my sixteenth year.
I don’t know whether Jiang Wende forgot about that matter, or whether his conscience stirred. In any case, my sixteenth year was so uneventful it wasn’t worth mentioning. But I was still alive and well—that was the most grateful thing of all.
This incident is my shadow, but it will not be my lifelong shadow. Sooner or later, I will turn off the lights to sleep. I definitely will.
So, Xunxun, when you read this part, please don’t cry.
But Gu Yu was already crying uncontrollably.
Wan An watched its owner with curiosity, its green eyes quiet and gentle, yet the scene reflected in its pupils was oppressive to the extreme. It didn’t understand what its owner was doing. A bird chirped outside the window, and it immediately pricked up its ears, tilting its head away, leaving only the warm, gentle sunlight in its eyes.
The sunlight falling on the sofa shifted a few inches. Gu Yu finally managed to gather her emotions. Red-eyed, she sat curled up on the soft sofa, hugging her knees. Besides the ache of heartache, only regret remained.
She couldn’t even begin to imagine the state of mind Jiang Bomu had been in while writing this letter. Her mind was filled with images of her own repeated pushing. Back then, she had thought that saying everything openly was best for them both, so she stubbornly insisted, demanding answers no matter what.
But what she hadn’t realized was that every single answer was a scar on Jiang Bomu’s heart. Each time it was torn open was a bloody wound, one that took a very, very long time to grow new flesh.
The letter ended here. Gu Yu didn’t dare read it a second time. She carefully slipped the stationery back into the envelope, then picked up the koi fish wax seal stamp.
To preserve the shape of the koi as much as possible, she had spent ten minutes just opening the letter. In the end, the koi was perfectly intact, but the letter paper had been crumpled and dampened by her.
Holding the koi, she opened her phone, tapped on Jiang Bomu’s chat window, but didn’t know what to say.
Their last exchange was half an hour ago, when she had reported she’d arrived safely, then cheekily asked: [Did you actually write me a love letter?]
Jiang Bomu had said: [Something like that.]
It was nothing like that.
Gu Yu let out a long sigh, then simply called her. But no one answered; Jiang Bomu was likely filming.
When Jiang Bomu finally returned the call, it was already dusk.
The moment the call connected, both fell silent.
Gu Yu didn’t know how to begin. Merely thinking a little about the contents of that letter made her eyes redden again. Complex emotions drove her to speak, her voice choked with sobs: “Sister…”
“Why are you still crying?” Jiang Bomu was smiling, her tone light and breezy. “It’s all in the past. I don’t mind it anymore.”
Gu Yu lowered her eyes and said softly, “You’re lying.” If she truly didn’t mind, she would have spoken about it when Gu Yu asked a few days ago.
“If only I had noticed sooner,” Gu Yu murmured. “Why didn’t I see any of it, always insisting on my own way?”
“Xunxun, don’t feel sorry about this,” Jiang Bomu’s voice was gentle and slow. “I was the one struggling with myself. It’s got nothing to do with you, understand?”
“But…”
“No buts,” Jiang Bomu cut her off, seemingly choosing her words. “You wanted to know my past. That’s perfectly normal; it’s something everyone does before getting into a relationship. The fact you wanted to understand me made me very happy. But back then, I didn’t dare admit my feelings for you, nor did I dare speak of these things. Put yourself in my shoes: if I were you, I would have been angry too. How could there be someone as strange as me in this world?”
She was always so gentle. Even with shadows left in her heart, she still faced the sun.
Gu Yu gripped her phone tighter and said softly, “I was also wrong. I was too impatient, always pushing you to say things you didn’t want to. We’d only known each other for a month back then. What right did I have to act that way?”
She apologized earnestly, “Sister, I’m sorry.”
This was the first time they had calmly, openly, and honestly discussed this matter. Except for the matter of selling her body to pay debts, which still weighed on Gu Yu’s heart like a massive stone, the final outcome could be considered pleasant.
After exchanging a few words of concern, Gu Yu detected the fatigue in her voice and obediently ended the call.
She sat in a daze for a while, then a knock came at the door.
Gu Yu went to open it. Sure enough, it was Sister Xia Li, just home from work. Having traveled and rushed around all day, Gu Yu didn’t want to move a muscle; she’d asked Sister Xia Li to bring her dinner.
“Thanks, Sister Xia Li,” Gu Yu invited her in. “Want to eat together?”
“No, I’m on a diet these days.”
Xia Li smiled as she picked up Wan An. She was about to teasingly comment on the increasingly chubby little piggy cat when she suddenly noticed Gu Yu’s expression was off. Raising an eyebrow, she asked, “Did you break up with Miss Jiang? Why so listless?”
“N—” Gu Yu just started the word when she realized the implication and hurriedly explained, “We haven’t even started dating yet.”
Xia Li looked even more delighted upon hearing this. “Really? Then I can swoop in and steal the opportunity.”
Gu Yu: “…”
“Just a joke,” Xia Li shrugged nonchalantly, grinning. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”
Xia Li had always been someone who could pick things up and put them down with ease. Gu Yu envied her carefree, free-spirited nature the most. Her being able to joke like this meant she was truly, rapidly moving on.
Gu Yu was very glad she hadn’t lost a confidante over matters of the heart. And regarding Jiang Bomu, she had been wanting to find someone to confide in anyway.
After gathering her thoughts for a moment, she asked, “Sister Xia Li, do you know any… street thugs?”
Xia Li stared at her as if she’d seen a ghost. Only after a long pause did she murmur, “Years apart, and my sweet little Xunxun has actually gone bad.”
“No!” Gu Yu hurriedly explained, “It’s just that someone has been harassing Jiang Bomu constantly. I want to teach him a lesson.”
Though she’d concealed part of the truth, it was more or less the same. Jiang Wende had been asking for money all along—that was one thing. To Jiang Bomu, that money was probably just a drop in the bucket. Paying off a disgusting drunkard for some peace and quiet was fine for both sides.
But what he had done in the past was unforgivable. The moment Gu Yu thought of Jiang Wende still dressing up like a decent human being, swaggering around scamming people—maybe even having forgotten what he’d done—she was filled with rage.
Sure, beating him up wouldn’t change much, but at least it would vent some spleen.
Jiang Bomu didn’t want to touch filth, so she would dirty her own hands in her stead.
Seeing it was for Jiang Bomu, Xia Li breathed a sigh of relief but disagreed. “Xunxun, if Jiang Bomu were an ordinary person, forget it. I could help you pull it off flawlessly. But she is a star. If the person who gets beaten takes this to the internet, and firmly insists that Jiang Bomu hired people—what will you have her do?”
Gu Yu froze. She had only been busy imagining the satisfying sight of Jiang Wende getting beaten bloody, without thinking of the consequences at all. Reminded by Xia Li, she immediately realized how improper it was.
“But,” Gu Yu said unwillingly, “do we just let him keep harassing her?”
“It’s not like there’s only one method,” Xia Li poked her forehead. “Put that rusty little brain of yours—the one that’s been rusting since university—to good use.”
Gu Yu: “…”
After Xia Li left, Gu Yu ate her dinner while racking her brains, but after days of thought, she still couldn’t come up with a way to keep Jiang Bomu completely clean in the matter.
Gu Yu sank into deep thought. Was it really true, as the internet said, that the third year of high school was the peak of a person’s IQ?
One day, after class, on her way home, Gu Yu was in the middle of pondering whether she’d actually gotten dumber, when the security guard uncle’s loud yell snapped her awake.
“Got a package for you!”
Gu Yu paused. She hadn’t ordered anything recently. Could her memory be deteriorating too? With a grave expression, she searched through her major shopping apps. She breathed a sigh of relief, but then felt curious. So, where did this package come from?
Arriving home, she carefully opened the package and froze on the spot.
It was actually a letter. The signature was her familiar, elegant, and neat handwriting—Mu.
At the same time, she received a new message on WeChat.
Jiang Bomu: [I saw you signed for the package and remembered I forgot to tell you, I sent it.]
[Xunxun, all the things you asked me about before, I will tell you the answers in this way, one by one. When you’ve finished reading them all… will we be together?]
