Xunxun:
I hope this letter finds you well.
Before writing this letter, I hesitated for a long time before putting pen to paper. The reason being, I always felt a bit embarrassed discussing this with you, but I don’t want any lingering unease between us, so I wrote it out anyway. I hope you read it with a pleasant heart.
Lin Sijia and I met during the movie “Midsummer Youth.” While filming, I developed a fondness for her. I thought she felt the same way, but she was just using it to generate buzz, which is why we later fell out on bad terms.
My feelings ran too deep, and her acting was too good. The time in between was indeed something I reminisced about for a few years. After I truly let go, I realized it was nothing more than that.
As for why I eventually let go, it was because she went behind my back and got involved with a man. The specific details are inconvenient to elaborate on here; if you want to know, I’ll tell you in person when we meet.
There’s actually one thing I’ve never told you: you and Lin Sijia are quite alike. Not in looks, but in personality and manner of speaking. During those first few days of our co-habitation, you constantly reminded me of her.
But you are also different from her. Everything about her that resembled you was part of her public persona in the entertainment industry: pretending to be sunny and cheerful, pretending to like girls. Her expressions were like a pre-programmed AI, every word requiring painstaking consideration. But you were born this way, needing no pretense.
It suddenly reminds me of that day four years ago. At the same moment you started liking me, I was also genuinely happy from the bottom of my heart. It was the first time in two years I had smiled sincerely.
Those two years, I had fallen into a strange loop, feeling the entertainment circle was too dark, that perhaps I couldn’t hold onto my true self. So the thought of quitting the industry arose. But your appearance made me feel I could keep persevering, and I persisted right up until today. To be immodest, my star path is wide open.
To a certain extent, you healed me.
As for exactly what I was thinking back then, I’ve already forgotten. But I’ve always remembered you, remembered that evening, the silhouette of you in a blue princess dress, running under the setting sun.
You don’t need to mind it. It really wasn’t ridiculous; rather, it was beautiful, like Cinderella. You handed the glass slipper to me, allowing me to regain my courage and conviction.
Xunxun, this is the last letter I’m sending you. Barring any surprises, you should receive it on the day the movie wraps. It’s getting colder and colder in Jinling, but the thought of seeing you soon warms my heart.
After finishing the letter, Gu Yu quietly set it down. Why did she have to bring up that four-year-old memory again? Now, her mind was filled with images of herself dashing like a maniac right under Jiang Bomu’s nose. She screamed and covered her face, collapsing onto the sofa. She was utterly mortified!
As for Lin Sijia, she didn’t take it to heart at all. That was already in the past. As long as she didn’t come to bother them, Gu Yu was very amiable.
But today indeed was the wrap-up day for the movie. Gu Yu had just seen it on Weibo’s Hot Search, and then the courier called her. The timing was pretty precise.
However, she remembered Jiang Bomu saying that after writing the last letter, they would get together. But she flipped through everything that had arrived multiple times, finding no sign of any confession, not even a hint.
Gu Yu exhaled softly. Good thing she hadn’t said anything, or else she would’ve turned her down. Without any sense of ceremony, don’t even think about getting her to agree to be together.
After safely storing the letter, she sent Jiang Bomu a WeChat message: 【Classmate Little Ai, happy wrap-up!】
Predictably, she received no reply.
She was probably having dinner with the crew right now. After dinner, there would be plenty more to keep her busy. As a considerate future girlfriend, Gu Yu didn’t launch a barrage of calls and instead headed out for class.
That evening, Jiang Bomu called her.
Gu Yu had just come out of her club activity. Hit by the raging cold wind, she immediately shivered, her voice trembling when she answered the phone.
“Didn’t you wear enough clothes?” Jiang Bomu asked with concern. “You haven’t caught a cold, have you?”
Gu Yu sniffed and smiled: “Of course not, I just left the Drama Club, and it’s freezing outside. Classmate Little Ai, are you done with everything?”
“Mm. Planning to head back to Yuning the day after tomorrow.”
Gu Yu sighed: “And you’re not even coming to see me.”
Jiang Bomu laughed despite herself: “I’d love to. Do you have the time?”
New Year’s Day was around the corner. The school had a gala, and the Drama Club was participating, meaning they were practicing overtime recently. Even if Gu Yu had the heart, she simply had no time to spend with her.
“I’m starting to regret joining,” Gu Yu pouted and kicked at a pile of snow, watching the flakes scatter up. “I forgot your movie was wrapping around now.”
“It’s fine. We can meet again during winter break.”
After New Year’s, Gu Yu would have to start preparing for her final exams, while Jiang Bomu had various schedules to complete, flying back and forth across the country. Neither of them would have time to meet.
Pausing, Jiang Bomu said: “Xunxun, even if you had remembered my wrap-up, don’t give up the chance to perform for my sake. This is part of your university life; once it’s gone, it won’t come back. And I will always be waiting for you right here.”
“I know,” Gu Yu said in an easy tone. “Actually, I only regret it a teensy bit, but of course, in front of you, I have to act like I really, really regret it.”
Jiang Bomu smiled softly: “So you wanted me to coax you. Too bad I only know how to lecture. I promise to coax you next time.”
The female voice on the phone was gentle, and Gu Yu’s heart felt sweet. She stayed on the call the whole way home.
“Check that the doors and windows are closed tightly,” Jiang Bomu worriedly reminded. “Remember to lock up.”
Following her instructions while checking, Gu Yu said helplessly: “Even my mom isn’t this worried about it.”
She had moved here months ago. Aside from a few concerned questions at the very beginning, her parents had completely forgotten she was living alone. Occasionally, they’d even tell her to get along well with her roommate. It was truly the height of absurdity.
“So Xunxun thinks I’m being annoying,” Jiang Bomu sighed dramatically. “Then I won’t say it anymore in the future.”
“No, don’t,” Gu Yu instinctively acted coquettish. “I have a bad memory and need Sister to remind me all the time.”
Jiang Bomu imagined her expression, her heart softening into a puddle of water, finally washing away all the melancholy feelings from the movie wrap. Right now, she just wanted to hold her, but that couldn’t happen for now. She could only enable the video call and say: “Let me see you.”
Gu Yu glanced in the mirror first before turning on the camera. She cupped her face and smiled at her: “Classmate Little Ai.”
“I’m here,” Jiang Bomu played along. “What service would Miss Xunxun like me to provide?”
Gu Yu thought for a moment: “First, compliment me.”
Jiang Bomu said without hesitation: “Cinderella, who is beautiful and kind-hearted.”
“Does that make you my Fairy Godmother?”
“I’m the pumpkin carriage, carrying you rushing towards Yuning to meet me.”
Gu Yu had never expected her to say something like that and burst out laughing: “Sister, why do I feel like you’re even more childish than I am now?”
Jiang Bomu had that feeling too. Every time she was with Gu Yu, she felt ten years younger, even younger than Gu Yu. All sorts of whimsical thoughts could be spoken without hesitation. Although somewhat shy, it was more of a release. She was being herself.
“You don’t like it?”
Of course Gu Yu liked it. “I want you to be this happy every day.”
Best to forget those shadows entirely and forever be filled with childlike innocence.
But shadows aren’t so simple to erase from the heart. For now, she didn’t yet know how to teach Jiang Wende a lesson, but she knew the diary had to be retrieved first.
In her spare time, she had constantly been thinking about this problem. After mulling it over, it still came down to stealing it. Gentleman’s agreements were useless against such a scoundrel; they would only make him defensive and hide the diary deeper.
But thinking about it so much now was pointless. She hadn’t returned to Yuning yet; she couldn’t put any plan into action.
After hanging up, Gu Yu washed up and quickly fell asleep. The next day, she plunged back into the cycle of classes and play rehearsals.
On the eve of New Year’s Day, the school held its gala. The Drama Club’s performance was a resounding success, even winning second place in the evaluations. Gu Yu used the prize money to treat all the club members to a big meal.
Once the lively New Year’s celebrations passed, the atmosphere at school grew increasingly solemn. There were still two weeks until exam week. Whether honor students or last-minute crammers, everyone started studying hard. Gu Yu was naturally no exception, hugging her textbooks every day and refusing to let go.
She majored in oil painting; painting itself was no problem, but she also had to study theoretical foundations, plus mandatory courses like Mao Zedong Thought. There was no small amount of material to memorize. Gu Yu’s memory indeed wasn’t great; she’d memorize the later parts and forget the earlier ones.
As exam week approached, she grew more nervous. Even her phone calls became her reciting lessons to Jiang Bomu.
Although she had graduated many years ago, being a graduate of a teacher education program, Jiang Bomu was very strict with her “student” Gu Yu. With a cold face, her expression stern, she had an air quite like Bo Shiyue. But they were cousins, so it wasn’t surprising they looked somewhat similar.
“Xunxun, zoning out again?”
How was she always found out? Gu Yu lowered her head in frustration. Though she’d already forgotten where she was in the recitation, she brazenly picked a random passage and started reciting, trying to bluff her way through.
“Three days left,” Jiang Bomu sighed. “Xunxun, at this rate, you’re going to fail.”
“If I fail, it’s your fault,” Gu Yu immediately shifted the blame. “I didn’t fail a single course in the past two years, and I even got a scholarship.”
Jiang Bomu: “…Then what’s the issue this time?”
“Probably because there’s no reward,” Gu Yu propped her chin on her hands. “It’s so boring this way.”
“What kind of reward do you want?”
Gu Yu instantly sat up straight and spoke with great enthusiasm: “For example, every time I memorize a passage, you kiss me.”
This was clearly a reward she had long thought out. Jiang Bomu raised an eyebrow: “And the punishment?”
Gu Yu hadn’t thought about that at all. After hesitating for a moment, her eyes brightened: “If I fail to memorize it, I kiss you once?”
Jiang Bomu was speechless, so she came up with a punishment herself: “If you fail to memorize it, that’s one less kiss.”
Gu Yu reluctantly agreed. But thinking that as long as she memorized it she’d get kisses, she immediately felt energized. She concentrated and silently read the material to be memorized a few times, then said radiantly: “I’ve got it!”
Before Jiang Bomu could even quiz her, she recited it perfectly verbatim. After finishing, she wrote a “k” in her notebook. Jiang Bomu was puzzled; shouldn’t she be writing tally marks? What did this letter mean?
But time was short and the task heavy. Seeing Gu Yu start silently reciting again, she didn’t ask. A while later, Gu Yu wrote three more letters, and Jiang Bomu finally understood.
k-i-s-s.
Jiang Bomu truly had no idea what to say. She could only pretend she hadn’t seen it, though the smile on her lips couldn’t be hidden. Where did she get so many sly ideas?
After the exams, Gu Yu counted them up. A total of 39 kisses. She quickly calculated: “That’s a total of 156 kisses. No backing out, Classmate Little Ai.”
“No backing out.”
Jiang Bomu asked softly: “So when is my family’s Xunxun coming back, so I can fulfill my promise?”
“Soon,” Gu Yu beamed. “See you tomorrow!”
