Chapter 43: Ah Huan, I Think… I Like Girls Too. Part 1

“It’s been such a long day. Do I really have to see the gift today? I’m worried I’ll fall asleep while waiting for it,” Su Ye muttered.

Yue Chengqi smiled. “It won’t take long. Just wait under the lamp for a bit.”

“Under the lamp? You stinky Yue Huan, you just want me to be a gift for the mosquitoes!”

Yue Chengqi chuckled. “Just bear with it for a second. Or you could go watch TV with Sister Wanjia for a while?”

“No, Zhang Mingfang is definitely there. I don’t want to see her.”

“Then wait for me. It’ll be fast.”

As she spoke, Yue Chengqi walked toward a rope hanging in the corner.

Su Ye had noticed these two ropes tied to the tree branches in the corner of the yard as soon as they returned from the provincial capital. However, they had been so busy lately that they only noticed the broken door hinge two days ago and fixed it yesterday; no one had the energy to worry about two ropes.

“What are you doing?”

“You’ll see in a moment.”

Yue Chengqi brought out a wooden board she had pre-drilled. She tied it up with practiced ease, tested it with a couple of solid kicks to ensure it was sturdy, and finally relaxed. She patted the board. “Come here.”

Su Ye approached slowly. “This is…”

Yue Chengqi grinned. “A swing! Don’t worry, it’s very strong.”

Yue Chengqi sat on it first, swinging back and forth a few times to prove its stability. Her smile deepened.

So, history really can be changed.

In her memory, there had always been a swing here. The patterns on that wooden board had been etched into her mind after years of tracing them with her paintbrush. When she was picking out materials this time, she had deliberately avoided that specific type of wood.

Now, both the creator of the swing and the materials used had been changed by her! This proved that nothing was set in stone. She could definitely change more—including Lin Wanjia’s future.

Yue Chengqi stood up and helped the teary-eyed girl onto the swing. She leaned over to wipe away Su Ye’s tears. “You haven’t cried in days. No crying today either!”

Su Ye pouted and sniffled. “I can’t help it.”

In all her years, this was the first time someone had prepared a gift for her with such care—and such a wonderful gift at that.

Su Ye looked down at the board and patted it. “This must have been a lot of trouble, right?”

It went without saying. The thick branches were high up; just climbing them would be exhausting, and using a ladder was dangerous. Lin Wanjia couldn’t have helped her much either.

After returning from the market every day, Yue Chengqi was usually too tired to even shower, yet she had spent her energy tying these thick ropes and drilling holes…

Su Ye looked at the rough holes between her fingers and looked up at the layers of knots tied for safety. Her lower lip trembled as more tears welled up.

“It’s so beautiful… Ah Huan… it’s really so beautiful…”

She was choking up so much she didn’t know what else to say, only able to repeat that sentence over and over.

Yue Chengqi followed her gaze upward. Moonlight filtered through the canopy of the large tree, scattering starlight across the ground. She said softly, “Yeah, it really is beautiful here.”

In the original timeline, even when the courtyard walls were torn down, this spot remained. This tree stood until the final demolition, and that decaying swing had stayed until then too, even when it had become so fragile that the slightest touch would turn the wood to dust.

But now, this swing was here. It was new. And it was something she had changed.

Yue Chengqi’s mood lightened. Her tone turned cheerful as she said, “Sit tight, I’ll push you.”

“No.” Su Ye gripped the ropes. “Don’t push. You sit here too.”

“Let’s swing first. It’s a swing! It’s no fun if it doesn’t move.”

But the girl was stubborn, staring at Yue Chengqi with a held breath until Yue Chengqi gave in with a fond smile. She sat down beside her, the two of them squeezed together on the small wooden board.

It was July, and the weather was still sweltering. Even at night, the breeze carried a hint of restlessness. Through their thin summer clothes, their young bodies were pressed tightly together. It was hot, but it was also… peaceful.

Su Ye tilted her head, leaning it directly on Yue Chengqi’s shoulder. “Okay, swing now.”

The swing began to sway slightly. Their toes brushed against the weeds and bricks on the ground, kicking a loose brick that made a soft clinking sound—a nocturnal melody that, combined with the chirping of cicadas, composed the unique tranquility of a small town night.

“By the way,” Yue Chengqi said, “Do you know the three types of insects you shouldn’t touch at night?”

Su Ye closed her eyes in resignation. “Enough. I don’t want to hear it.”

What is this ‘King of Cold Jokes’ trying to do now! No cold jokes tonight!

The rejected Yue Chengqi could only give a soft “oh.” She gripped the rope and, following the night breeze, began to softly hum a tune from the future—

“Quickly wipe away your tears… Look how beautiful the night-blooming cereus is… Passing through the human world… Is but a fleeting moment…” (1)

Su Ye whispered, “That sounds a bit sad.”

“It’s clearly about being open-minded and detached!” Yue Chengqi countered. Hey, this person…

“But when can a person truly be detached?” Su Ye leaned against her, looking up at the star-studded sky. “I only began to understand that word a little bit tonight.”

“I hated Mama Mingyue because she never hugged us, never smiled at us, and never let us hug each other. She never played favorites. She would coldly watch us snatch food from each other and fight. She would only intervene right before blood was drawn.”

Su Ye’s voice lowered as she told her story—

“The day I left the orphanage, it was because a family had come. She pushed another younger sister forward but wouldn’t push me. She said I didn’t know how to love, didn’t know how to smile, and didn’t know how to flatter people. She said my grades were so poor that no one would ever adopt me in my entire life.”

“Even when I wanted to leave, she said I’d never amount to anything. I told her I’d make a name for myself in five years and show her.”

Yue Chengqi’s heart sank. Her breathing slowed.

Su Ye shook her arm. “It’s okay. You don’t need to hold your breath to listen to a story.”

“What happened later?”

“Later, that night, I packed all my belongings—which were just two sets of clothes. I threw away my textbooks and climbed over the wall to leave the orphanage. But I really didn’t know where to go. I only ever went between the orphanage and the school; I didn’t even know where the road to the city center was. I kept walking further and further until I ended up downstream by the river.”

“That’s where I met Sister Wanjia.”

“She took me home, gave me a place to live, and even spent two thousand yuan on adoption fees to give me my freedom… It was then that I gradually understood why Mama Mingyue did what she did.”

Su Ye lowered her eyes slightly. “Because children from an orphanage must be determined to leave it. They must be determined to love their adoptive parents. Just like you can’t let wild animals trust humans, children from an orphanage cannot trust their ‘mothers’ there.”

“…”

Yue Chengqi didn’t know what to say. She could only reach out and gently rub Su Ye’s head. A thousand words condensed into one sentence: “It’s all in the past. Thank goodness it’s all in the past.”

“And yet, she is still your mother. You’re still willing to call her ‘Mama,’ aren’t you?”

“Because it doesn’t matter anymore. Whatever. Everything is in the past anyway. Understanding doesn’t mean forgiveness, and forgiveness doesn’t mean I like her. Right now… I just understand her.”

Yue Chengqi pulled her into a tighter embrace.

Su Ye suddenly seemed to remember something. “Wait! We agreed you’d share your story too. Why did it turn into me talking?”

Yue Chengqi smiled. “My story isn’t as interesting. Just an ignorant little girl who always wanted to go against her mother.”

“My dad passed away early. I think I was eight, back in 2008. He went with his team for disaster relief, but he stayed there forever.”

Su Ye hugged her tight. “Didn’t anyone stop him?”

“They did. Many people tried. But it was no use, he insisted on going…”

Yue Chengqi’s teeth grazed her lip. She suddenly remembered something.

In the original timeline, the person who tried hardest to stop him was Su Ye. She had traveled back from the provincial capital in a torrential rain, saying that if Cheng Pingshan didn’t go, she would donate another 200,000 yuan to the disaster area, even though she had already donated 200,000 yuan worth of supplies. But she still couldn’t stop Cheng Pingshan, who was determined to serve the people. Just as no one could have predicted that a small village would be hit by a sudden mudslide…

Sure enough, in the next second, Su Ye asked curiously, “Which day was it? I’ll see if I can stop him.”

Why is it like this?

Su Ye nudged her. “Say something!”

Yue Chengqi lowered her gaze. “May 20, 2008.” She suddenly flashed a bright smile. “I’ll count on you then, Auntie Su Ye.”

Please, let everything happening now be a coincidence. Let her struggle once. Let her… let her succeed once.

The young girl, unable to read minds, simply patted her chest. “Leave it to me! Don’t worry, don’t worry.”

“And then? What happened after?”

“Later…”

Later, as Yue Chengqi grew older, the pressures of life and work ground Yue Wenfeng down into a different person. But Yue Chengqi didn’t want to use those harsh words to describe her mother. She just curled her lip and said softly, “Later, she lived in a lot of pain.”

The pain was so great that she couldn’t control her emotions in front of her daughter. She poured all her feelings onto Yue Chengqi, unable to accept even the slightest hint of deviation. This situation worsened in high school; one night, she even hit Yue Chengqi just for coming home ten minutes late.

She cried while hitting her, begging her never to be late again, begging her not to make her worry.

The young Yue Chengqi hadn’t understood why Yue Wenfeng had become like that. She tried to hug her, only to be pushed away repeatedly. She tried to reject her, only to be pulled back every time.

Their lives had been ground into a mess by the world.

It wasn’t until she applied for university that Yue Chengqi ignored everyone’s objections and chose a school in Ye City, flying there alone. With distance between them, their relationship actually softened. Yue Wenfeng began to care for her again, giving her warmth…

Yue Chengqi let out a long breath. “That’s roughly it. What do you think?”

Su Ye sniffled, leaning on her shoulder and looking up at the tree canopy. She said muffledly, “Your mother and I are friends, right? I’ll take her out to play more often. Ah Huan, you don’t hate your mother, do you?”

“I don’t hate her. I just… don’t really want to see her.”

Yue Chengqi thought to herself that Yue Wenfeng was actually very outstanding. She was devoted to her work, upright and incorruptible, and she had built up the business environment of An City with her own shoulders. It was just that life was unpredictable. Life grinds everyone down, including this woman who was so excellent she provoked the heavens’ jealousy.

She just hadn’t balanced her work and life well. But it wasn’t her fault. She had tried her best, but reality was too cruel. Countless accidents had worn her down until she became that way.

So Yue Chengqi didn’t hate her; she even admired her. But in the role of a daughter to a mother, she wasn’t that eager to see her.

Relationships between people were just that… hard to understand.

If only Yue Wenfeng could have stayed devoted to her work forever, never changing, never ground down by life.

Su Ye breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good then. After all, it wasn’t her fault, and it wasn’t yours. You still have to live your life… But since you’re here now, what about your mother in 2023?”

“…I don’t know. I’ll take it one step at a time. I… forget it, let’s just look at the stars.”

Su Ye gave a soft “oh” and couldn’t help but yawn. Leaning on Yue Chengqi’s shoulder, she whispered, “If only there was a hammock here.”

“The branches are too small. But you can lean on me; you won’t fall.”

Su Ye hugged her tighter, feeling much softer.

Yue Chengqi pushed off with one leg while the other was slightly curled, and they began to swing gently.

The night breeze carried the sound of cicadas, bringing a sense of fragmented peace.

She suddenly felt like singing softly—

“I hear raindrops falling on the green grass… I hear the distant school bell ringing… But I don’t hear your voice… Earnestly… calling my name…” (2)

“Ah Huan.” The girl who was drifting off to sleep suddenly called her name, interrupting her singing.

Yue Chengqi paused and asked softly, “What is it?”

The girl murmured, “I think… I like girls too.“

It was like a massive hammer smashing through all of Yue Chengqi’s composure. Her lips trembled for a long time before she found the strength to ask back—

“Who is it?”

*

The only answers she received were the night breeze, the cicadas, and the faint sound of a TV program from the neighboring yard. The female host—who in Yue Chengqi’s time had long since moved to a different industry—was still a bit green, her voice youthful as she thanked the audience for watching.

The person who would later become a top-tier GL icon with her hadn’t yet transferred from the local station; she wasn’t yet the “Big Sister” figure, but just a green newcomer.