2023

At first, Chi Xiaoman had wanted to tell Chen Yue, Chen Yue, it’s already so late, and you’re injured. Besides, I seem to have hurt my foot just now too, so why don’t we go home and rest early? We can come back another time when we have time.

Then she thought it over a little more. Chi Xiaoman had wanted to tell Chen Yue, It’s too late. If we hurry over now, Felicity Noodle Shop might not even be open. It’d be a waste of time to go all that way for nothing.

Be a little more sensible, Chi Xiaoman had wanted to say—Chen Yue, tonight is definitely going to hit the trending searches. No matter where we show up now, it won’t look good. The smartest thing would be for me to go find Shen Baozhi, you to go find her mom, and then we discuss a solution like adults.

But after thinking for a while, Chi Xiaoman said, “Okay.”

She told Chen Yue, “Let’s go see if Felicity Noodle Shop is open first.”

In the same consulting tone, she asked, “If it isn’t, can we eat something else?”

So Chen Yue looked at her and smiled. “Okay.”

Unlike the many smiles she wore on ordinary days, the smile on her face now wasn’t the kind of practiced courtesy she usually showed, nor was it the indulgence of an older person. It was relaxed, almost childlike.

Maybe it was because her eyes were still swollen and red.

She looked nothing like the usual Chen Yue.

Seeing her smile, Chi Xiaoman couldn’t help smiling too.

They said they were going for a drive, but in fact Chi Xiaoman wasn’t very familiar with Beijing’s roads either. They had meant to go to Felicity Noodle Shop, but after driving for half an hour, they still hadn’t found the way. Later, she didn’t know which street they’d ended up on, so she stopped the car, covered her face with her hand, and went into a twenty-four-hour convenience store.

When she came back to the car,

she brought Chen Yue a small cup of oden and a boiled egg wrapped in a plastic bag.

“Why did you buy oden too?” Chen Yue found it odd. “Aren’t we eating noodles later?”

“I bought it to make the minimum order.”

Chi Xiaoman explained, “The convenience store has a discount today if you spend enough.”

Looking at the way Chen Yue carefully held the oden cup with both hands, she couldn’t bring herself to say—

Because you missed your birthday, and then you ran into all that awful stuff today, and cried so much, and ended up in the hospital; I felt really sorry, and when I saw there was seaweed and tofu in the oden, the things you used to really like, I bought it.

That explanation probably wouldn’t have sounded lighthearted enough, and would most likely ruin Chen Yue’s mood at the moment. Chi Xiaoman didn’t want that. At least for these few hours, she wanted Chen Yue to be able to briefly forget about caring for other people’s feelings.

Just as she’d expected, Chen Yue laughed because she said “minimum order,” and in a soft voice, jokingly told her, “Big star, you’re so stingy.”

“No choice.” Chi Xiaoman said, “Even a big star can’t resist a discount.”

The smile in Chen Yue’s eyes spread completely.

“Eat quickly,” Chi Xiaoman urged her, and didn’t keep joking. “It won’t taste as good if it gets cold.”

“Okay.” Chen Yue agreed. She took the chopsticks Chi Xiaoman had already opened for her, picked up a piece of seaweed, and then hesitated.

Chi Xiaoman thought she was worried that eating this late would affect her on-camera appearance tomorrow. “Eat it without worrying. I’ll give the whole crew a day off tomorrow.”

“Hm?” Chen Yue sounded surprised, then curved her eyes with a smile. “So Director Xiaoman is this willful?”

“It’s not willful.”

Chi Xiaoman denied it, then looked at her and said softly, “You worked hard today, and I already shot a lot of good footage. Taking just one day off won’t delay things.”

Chen Yue’s movements stilled.

Even though Chi Xiaoman wasn’t sure if that meant she knew her well enough.

She thought—

At least in terms of professionalism and diligence, she hadn’t misunderstood Chen Yue too much.

In essence, Chen Yue was the one who always kept herself tightly wound at work. A lot of Chi Xiaoman’s later behavior, the way she tried to seem mature, was really just her imitating Chen Yue.

“And I want to rest tomorrow too,” Chi Xiaoman said quietly. “I’m a little tired today too.”

As she spoke,

she was also very carefully peeling the shell off the boiled egg.

Chen Yue watched her hands.

After a quiet pause in the wind, as if thinking of something, she smiled softly after a long while. “Okay.”

The egg had just been taken out of the pot, so it was still a little hot. Chi Xiaoman could only peel a little at a time, then pause. Finally, after struggling to get the shell off, her fingers were so hot that she reflexively pinched her ears to cool them down.

Once her fingers weren’t so hot anymore,

she noticed Chen Yue looking at her, so she lowered her hands awkwardly and passed over the egg she’d peeled and wrapped back up in the plastic bag to warm against her lap. “Use it to soothe your eyes; otherwise they’ll feel awful tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Chen Yue said softly.

She took the egg and handed over the rest of the oden in her own hand.

Chi Xiaoman accepted it and saw that Chen Yue hadn’t eaten much. Worried, she looked at her a few more times.

“I left it for you,” Chen Yue said.

Chi Xiaoman froze.

Chen Yue didn’t look at her. She was rolling the peeled egg over her eyes. “Don’t you like the daikon and tofu skewers?”

Chi Xiaoman pulled herself back to the present and looked at the little cup of oden. She paused for a long time; it was actually hard not to think back.

In the past, oden had been a rare treat. The convenience store sold it at a premium, and even buying a few skewers wouldn’t fill you up. So they used to share it like this too. Only back then, she would hate to spend money on the things she liked and leave them all for Chen Yue. Chen Yue was the same.

Now they could both afford it. Oden was no longer special, yet the two of them still might not be able to finish a few skewers between them.

Chi Xiaoman stared blankly at the oden.

“Why aren’t you eating?” Chen Yue seemed to notice. After a moment, she asked, “Is it because I already ate it?”

“No.” Chi Xiaoman denied it, and to prove to Chen Yue that she wasn’t that picky, she picked up a piece of white radish and took a bite before mumbling, “I just feel like—”

“I seem like I’m not only able to buy the oden I want to eat, but could also buy the whole store.”

After swallowing the little bite of radish, Chi Xiaoman said softly,

“I’m actually pretty happy.”

Chen Yue looked at her with a gentle gaze. “Then eat more.”

“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman nodded.

After that, the two of them didn’t talk much either.

One sat quietly by the side, using the egg on her eyes; the other slowly worked through that little cup of oden.

Only when Chen Yue was soothing her eyes did Chi Xiaoman still fail to resist looking at her a few more times—

Maybe because since they’d reunited, Chen Yue had always presented herself to her as the mature, older one; always perfect, without flaws, seeming to have no emotions other than tolerance and gentleness.

Now she was beside her, awkwardly using a round egg to cool her eyes. It was rare to see.

Kind of cute.

In a sense, the shell around Chen Yue was actually thicker than the one around Chi Xiaoman. She just handled hers in a more mature way, and was better at hiding it, never letting anyone notice easily.

“What is it?” Probably because she noticed her gaze, Chen Yue stopped and looked at her.

“Nothing.” Chi Xiaoman shook her head.

She kept eating the radish.

And kept thinking—

She still hoped that one day, Chen Yue could openly show the self inside that shell to others the way she was doing tonight; when she wanted to go for a drive, she could go for a drive, when she wanted to eat noodles, she could eat noodles, when she wanted to cry, she wouldn’t have to hold it in, and when her eyes were red, no one would pretend not to see.

Even if the person buying her boiled eggs to soothe her eyes might not be Chi Xiaoman every time.

-

After they finished the oden,

Chi Xiaoman also used another egg to soothe her eyes for a while.

More than ten minutes later, they finally found Felicity Noodle Shop, only to see the shop’s dark shutter and signboard, along with a warm notice saying they would be on holiday starting today until November.

Chi Xiaoman felt annoyed. “Was it because I took too long on the way?”

“No.” Chen Yue shook her head. Her gaze on Chi Xiaoman remained soft. “Actually, the oden was delicious too.”

“We can come eat here again next time,” Chi Xiaoman said with a wrinkled face.

But who knew whether there would really be another chance; after a while, the Beijing scenes would be finished, and they’d have to move to Guizhou to shoot the road-trip portion.

After a quiet moment,

Chi Xiaoman lit up her screen and looked at the time.

Chen Yue’s birthday really had already passed.

But after racking her brains for a while, she still said to Chen Yue, “I think I left something on set. Can we stop by today’s set first and then go back? Is that okay?”

“Okay.”

Chen Yue almost never objected to accommodating other people.

Chi Xiaoman still felt guilty about it, even though this was her own suggestion.

“It won’t take too long,” she quickly explained to Chen Yue. “We’ll go back right after I get it.”

“Okay,” Chen Yue said gently.

“Or do you want to keep driving around for a bit?” Chi Xiaoman hesitated.

“Let’s go get your thing first.”

After eating oden, after soothing her eyes, after going for a drive, Chen Yue seemed to become that mature, tolerant older person again.

She thought for a moment,

“And it’s already very late today; you should rest early too.”

After saying that, she slowly smiled at Chi Xiaoman, as if joking. “Director Xiaoman, thanks for the oden. I ate very happily.”

For some reason,

hearing Chen Yue rationally find reasons for her,

Chi Xiaoman instead felt sad.

But there really wasn’t any other way.

Because although she had decided to take tomorrow off, tonight’s matter couldn’t really be left unresolved, and it was even less possible not to go tell Shen Baozhi in advance.

Maybe adult freedom was just going for a short drive and then eating a small cup of oden.

Chi Xiaoman silently drove back to today’s set.

It was very late, and the set had already wrapped. The roadside was lit by streetlights, making everything look bright. There were also many people standing outside the station; whether because they’d heard about tonight’s incident, quite a few were still waiting around the set.

Chi Xiaoman parked the car farther away. She didn’t want Chen Yue to be questioned, so she said,

“I can go by myself. You wait in the car for a bit; I’ll be right back.”

“Can you go alone?” Chen Yue was a little worried.

“Of course.”

Chi Xiaoman pushed open the car door and smiled at her in the wind. “Don’t worry, I’m very good at handling situations like this.”

That was true.

Because in the videos Chen Yue had watched, a clear and complete record of a specific timeline was preserved—

At first, the Chi Xiaoman who had to fight alone, who could barely stand steady when she was being shoved around and looked a little flustered, gradually became the big star who was later surrounded by people but still smiled at the camera and handled all kinds of problems and details with ease.

It was just that Chen Yue had always only seen it in videos before, and had always guessed what the real Chi Xiaoman behind those videos was like—tired, panicked, or afraid.

Now she had the chance to truly watch her from behind.

So she wanted to watch a little longer.

By the time Chi Xiaoman walked away, her narrow shoulders shrinking smaller and smaller beneath the streetlights.

Chen Yue opened the car door and got out.

She realized that Chi Xiaoman’s walking seemed off too.

Like something hurt.

But she was still forcing it.

Chen Yue felt worried, but her own sprained foot made her walk very slowly; thinking that chasing after her might draw even more attention, she had no choice but to stop across the street and quietly watch her back.

Chi Xiaoman turned behind a car, arms wrapped around herself; beneath her thin knit cardigan, the corner of her T-shirt was lifted by the wind.

Chen Yue also stood across the street, following her direction under the streetlights, walking forward very slowly.

Until Chi Xiaoman’s figure completely disappeared across the street.

Chen Yue stopped.

She was still staring at the car where Chi Xiaoman had disappeared.

For a long time.

Then she heard someone nearby call her in confusion,

“Chen Yue?”

Chen Yue turned around, only then realizing she had unknowingly walked to the other side of the set. By the roadside, there was a girl with a backpack, who had originally been squatting on the ground. After seeing her, the girl stood up hesitantly; maybe because she thought about what happened today, she didn’t get too close.

“Are you okay?”

She looked familiar.

“I’m fine,” Chen Yue said politely.

“That’s good.” The girl patted her chest. “Thank goodness you’re okay; otherwise she’d get scolded again.”

Chen Yue remembered—this might be Chi Xiaoman’s fan. The reason she looked familiar might be because she had been one of the people who gave her hot chocolate at the airport last time.

“Does she get scolded often?” Chen Yue knew she was asking an obvious question.

“Kinda, I guess,” the girl’s answer was a little vague, as if she didn’t want Chen Yue to think working with Chi Xiaoman would bring her a lot of controversy too. “But she’s really nice; don’t let other people’s words affect you.”

“I know.” Chen Yue lowered her eyes.

And because of that, she thought—

This might be her chance to understand Chi Xiaoman a little more. She had many questions she wanted to ask, such as—

Why was Chi Xiaoman always getting scolded? Why did you all still like her even though so many people scolded her? Why did what happened today happen? What exactly had happened to Chi Xiaoman over these past few years?

But these questions didn’t seem to mean much.

And the girl looked at her for a while; perhaps because she thought Chen Yue was easy to talk to, she spoke on her own, “But don’t feel sorry for her just because of what other people say all the time.”

Chen Yue froze.

And the girl smiled, rubbing her palms together familiarly in front of her.

“Because we don’t feel sorry for her.”

“She told us not to feel sorry for her.”

“She said she has a lot of money now, and that she’s living very happily. She also told us that if we run into anything we can’t solve, we can come to her. It’s not empty talk; she really has helped us solve things many times.”

Maybe afraid Chen Yue would think she had a fan filter for her idol, the girl tried hard to explain,

“Like, I used to be studying for civil service exams, and I thought it was really hard, that life was hopeless and all that, so I just went crazy in her DMs. I didn’t expect her to reply.”

“But she did.”

“She wrote me a really, really long message, telling me it was okay to feel lost in my twenties, and it was okay to be gentler with myself. She also said that no matter what the people around me were doing, no matter how smooth other people’s roads were, I’d still find my own path.”

“The process would be hard too, but the final result would definitely be better than I imagined. And she promised that if I was over thirty and still didn’t feel any better, I could just come back to her.”

That really was something Chi Xiaoman would say.

Chen Yue slowly nodded. Maybe if someone else heard it, they’d think Chi Xiaoman was just managing her image, and they’d also think this girl had a very thick filter for the person she liked. But Chen Yue knew Chi Xiaoman was exactly the kind of person who, if she received a drop of love, would want to give back a whole river.

Then the girl said proudly to her, “So this year, at twenty-three, I’m an honorable stand-up comedian now!”

Chen Yue was stunned for a few seconds, then laughed into the wind. “Congratulations.”

“Hehe.” The girl grinned.

Then, as if remembering something, she looked sad and pouted before saying,

“It’s not just me. In the group I’m in, there was a baby who got sick and didn’t have money for treatment, and her mom posted in the group asking for help.”

“At first, all of us donated a little. But it still wasn’t enough. Later, some alt account came along and donated a huge amount of money, and the name was super old-fashioned too—something like Rainbow Sister.”

“We even wondered who was that rich and that dumb, not even afraid of being scammed. It wasn’t until a long time later that we realized it was Xiaoman herself.”

“But thinking about it, it makes sense; besides her, no one else would be both rich and that dumb.”

It sounded like a complaint, but the corners of her eyes were also turning red because of it.

Chen Yue looked at her gently for a while, then found a bit of tissue on herself and handed it over.

The girl took it without ceremony. “Thanks.”

She wiped her tears.

“But she never lets us tell anyone else about these things, and she says if we do, then we’re not allowed to like her anymore.”

“Because she said—”

“She doesn’t need it now, and she’ll never need to use our pain to build up her own image.”

“She hopes we can live our own lives well, and that when we occasionally think of her, it’ll be in a way that makes us feel the things she gave us were happiness and health; that’ll be enough.”

“So I don’t feel sorry for her.”

It was hard to say how much these words stirred Chen Yue’s emotions. But in the end, she didn’t ask the girl the answer she had wanted for so many years.

Because this was already enough.

And the girl, who had been squatting across from the set because she was worried about tonight’s incident, generously told Chen Yue all this, but she still didn’t keep squatting by her side.

She didn’t wait for Chi Xiaoman to come over.

After she finished speaking, she confirmed with Chen Yue that this hadn’t made her biased against Chi Xiaoman, and also confirmed that nothing had happened after Chi Xiaoman ran out from the set earlier. Then she left, relieved.

Only before leaving,

Chen Yue heard several girls behind her call out together,

“Zheng Kexin! Who are you talking to?”

So the girl called Zheng Kexin raised a hand high and answered in a bright voice, “Coming!”

Then, as if remembering something, she turned back and handed Chen Yue something, saying very familiarly,

“Teacher Chen, you’ve worked hard today. And I just checked the trending searches; I heard your birthday is almost here, but I didn’t prepare any gift for you. Just make do with this.”

Chen Yue smiled. “Okay.”

She put away what Zheng Kexin had handed her.

Then she watched the excellent twenty-three-year-old stand-up comedian Zheng Kexin bounce away out of sight.

After a long time,

Chen Yue only then vaguely remembered—

Ten years ago, at Felicity Noodle Shop, they had auditioned for the first time. Lang Lang had held up an old DV camera, and Chi Xiaoman had smiled at her in front of her.

There had also been a girl named Zheng Kexin, muttering to ask whether their film could be called The Neon of Zheng Kexin.

Would it be the same Zheng Kexin?

Chen Yue was willing to believe it was.

-

She didn’t keep waiting across the street.

Chen Yue watched this group of chattering girls leave, then turned and walked toward where she had parked the car.

She hadn’t gone far.

She saw Chi Xiaoman walking toward her.

The thing she’d gone to get seemed to already be in hand; Chi Xiaoman now had empty hands. When she saw Chen Yue, she let out a breath of relief, probably because seeing she hadn’t waited in the car made her think Chen Yue had run into someone bad.

But when she came closer,

Chi Xiaoman didn’t scold her for wandering around either.

Instead, she stopped awkwardly. Only after Chen Yue was beside her did she ask softly, “Chen Yue, where did you go just now?”

“It was too stuffy in the car,” Chen Yue chose to lie. “I got out for some air.”

Because she couldn’t say—Xiaoman, I was really worried about you, and couldn’t bear to leave you alone dealing with those things, so I kept following behind you. Because she thought—maybe it was because she always appeared before Chi Xiaoman as the older one that Chi Xiaoman carried too much pressure whenever she faced her.

Worrying about her, fretting over her, feeling sorry for her, missing her… it all sounded lovely, but in truth it might only be another kind of condescension.

Because she was always looking at her through the filter of the past, she had never truly seen the Chi Xiaoman of the present.

“But I just ran into a girl.”

Under the yellow streetlights, Chen Yue looked at their shadows walking side by side and said slowly.

“What girl?” Chi Xiaoman was very alert, as if afraid she’d get hurt again.

“She looked like your fan. She came over because she was worried about you and asked me if you were okay.”

Chen Yue said,

“She gave me a gift, but now I want to pass it on to you.”

“A gift?” Chi Xiaoman seemed confused.

But she still reacted instinctively. “Why would your gift be passed to me?”

Chen Yue smiled.

She didn’t say much.

She just quietly took the thing out of her pocket.

And handed it to Chi Xiaoman.

“Because I think this is what she wanted you to see,” Chen Yue said softly.

Across the dim yellow light, her gaze landed on Chi Xiaoman.

And she clearly saw Chi Xiaoman take the hand banner she handed over in a daze, slowly unfold it, and go from surprise to blankness to a gradually reddening ring around the eyes.

Because on that banner, it simply read—

Xiaoman, Xiaoman, you’re the best!

Xiaoman, Xiaoman, you’re the sweetest!

Xiaoman, Xiaoman, you’re the one and only radiance in all the worlds!

In the confused autumn night, the two of them stood on the street across from the set. They both knew tomorrow might bring a lot of ugly words, but they still went ahead and, indulgently or perhaps simply allowing indulgence, ate oden. Chi Xiaoman stood there for a long time, her eyes slowly turning red.

Chen Yue looked at her for a long time too.

Only then, in a daze, did she realize she had actually been wrong all along, and because of that, she felt deeply ashamed—because they had reunited for a long time, but she had always seen Chi Xiaoman as fragile, timid, and not strong enough; she had defined her as a performer hiding in a glass jar, performing happiness for her.

But Chi Xiaoman had never shed tears when she herself was hurt.

She only cried when she felt tolerance and love.

There was no such thing as a past Chi Xiaoman and a present Chi Xiaoman.

From beginning to end, there had only ever been one Chi Xiaoman.

Only the part Chen Yue had overlooked.

Only the Chi Xiaoman you could see if you didn’t look down on her.

And Chen Yue felt deeply guilty that it had taken her so long to discover her own condescension.

Chen Yue wanted to hand her tissue, but found that the last bit she had was already given to the girl just now.

But Chi Xiaoman didn’t cry for very long either.

She tilted her head back, pressed her red, swollen eye corners with her fingers, slowly calmed down, and sniffled. “Looks like I’ll have to use three very expensive face masks when I get back.”

Chen Yue smiled. “Mm, the big star is amazing, even if she uses three expensive face masks in a row.”

She didn’t joke often.

It didn’t sound very funny.

But Chi Xiaoman still cooperated and smiled, then after a moment of silence, said softly again, “Chen Yue, I really need to make this movie well.”

“When have you ever not thought that?” Chen Yue felt that the way the tip of her nose had gone red was very cute.

Chi Xiaoman was silent for a few seconds because of her question, then said quietly, “That’s true.”

“Then Director Xiaoman.” Chen Yue called her, then asked, “Are you still taking tomorrow off?”

“There’s no need to rush that much.” Chi Xiaoman objected, then pinched her ear and slowly added, “And you didn’t get enough rest today either.”

By “today,” she actually meant before midnight.

“Not really.”

Chen Yue said, her voice softened by the wind, “Actually, being able to go for a drive like we just did made me really happy.”

“Hm?” Chi Xiaoman might not have heard her. “What did you say?”

“Nothing.” Chen Yue shook her head.

“Alright.” Chi Xiaoman didn’t press.

Because they had already slowly reached the front of the car.

The red sports car was parked quietly in the shadow by the roadside.

Maybe because she was worried Chen Yue’s leg would be inconvenient, Chi Xiaoman went around first to open the door for her.

Chen Yue sat inside.

Watching Chi Xiaoman come around the front of the car, she again felt that Chi Xiaoman’s walking was a little off.

Once Chi Xiaoman got into the car,

she couldn’t help asking, “What’s wrong with your leg?”

“Huh?” Chi Xiaoman blinked a beat late in response, but still answered honestly,

“I accidentally bumped it a little while walking earlier. It should be fine.”

Chen Yue looked at her.

Chi Xiaoman stressed, “It’s really fine; I’ll just spray some medicine on it when we get back.”

When she spoke, there was still a slight nasal tone to her voice. Her voice in the wind was soft, like she was being coquettish. “Don’t worry, I’m bouncing around just fine.”

Chen Yue’s resolve was therefore worn down.

After a brief pause, “Chi Xiaoman—”

She used her full name.

As soon as she spoke, Chi Xiaoman seemed to want to change the subject. She pointed across the street with an oddly lively “eh?” and then quietly called to her, “Chen Yue, look at that. What’s over there?”

Chen Yue had no choice.

She cooperatively looked for a while—

A utility pole by the roadside, and there weren’t even any cat or dog lost-pet flyers she recognized posted on it.

Then she turned back, patiently trying to make Chi Xiaoman stop pretending.

But unexpectedly, she heard a click in the next second, and then discovered—

Between her eyes and Chi Xiaoman’s eyes, there was a flickering flame swaying in the wind.

Chen Yue froze.

And Chi Xiaoman had probably been watching her reaction all along. Seeing her stunned expression, she let out a relieved breath and pushed the cake in her hand forward a little.

“Baozhi told me you don’t like cake anymore. So I didn’t buy one. But today… yesterday, the cake shop had a discount.”

“It’s true.” She stressed it. “And I wanted to eat some myself too. So I thought I’d buy one and try it. If you don’t want any, I can eat it myself and it won’t go to waste.”

“But if you do want some—”

“Even if it’s for some reason you don’t want to eat it in front of other people, it’s your birthday, so you should still eat a little cake.”

The flame and the streetlights flickered together. It was a very ordinary birthday cake design, white cream and a chocolate shell. On top stood a wobbly multicolored candle; the flame it gave off was colorful, like neon.

Chi Xiaoman’s young face was lit until it looked slightly blurred. “Although it’s already very late now, but…”

As if she felt she should smile, she smiled at her. Under the firelight, her smile looked unchanged from ten years ago, still full of cuteness and awkwardness,

“Chen Yue, happy birthday.”

It reminded Chen Yue of a long time ago, when she would suddenly find a very precious, very large cake Chi Xiaoman had secretly saved money to buy from home, and while loudly singing the birthday song, she would carefully carry the cake over and celebrate Chen Yue’s birthday.

Now, she was also holding a very precious, secretly hidden cake. It was still a very big one. Whether she had money or not, she would never let Chen Yue eat a small cake.

Because Chi Xiaoman had said—if the birthday cake is too small, the birthday wish will be hard to come true.

“Make a wish,” Chi Xiaoman said, bringing the cake a little closer. As if being watched for too long, her expression had become a little unnatural, so she hid her face behind the firelight a little.

After dodging for a few moments,

she seemed to remember something, and leaned out again to add in time,

“Make three.”

Chen Yue really wanted to keep her eyes open like this, looking at the precious Chi Xiaoman before her, and never close them.

But because she was greedy too, and because she really did have wishes to make.

Chen Yue obediently closed her eyes.

In the silence of Chi Xiaoman’s breathing, she put her hands together and very slowly made three wishes.

The first wish.

She hoped that one day, Chi Xiaoman could calmly accept kindness and love, and would no longer get teary-eyed in moments like this, feeling that she didn’t deserve good things, or not daring to have them.

The second wish.

She hoped that everyone in this world would love Chi Xiaoman. She hoped Chi Xiaoman would always get the best and most precious things.

“Chen Yue.” Chi Xiaoman suddenly interrupted her.

She seemed to be worrying about her wishes, or perhaps she mistook Chen Yue for someone who would never be selfish, or maybe she suddenly remembered the birthday wishes she’d made a long time ago. “Birthday wishes are supposed to be for yourself; don’t make them for kittens and puppies and things like that.”

Chen Yue therefore smiled.

“Don’t open your eyes.”

Chi Xiaoman reminded her in time, “If you make a wish with your eyes open, it won’t come true.”

Chen Yue didn’t open her eyes, and said softly, “Okay.”

Then, continuing in the dark world, she thought for a long time, and finally set aside Chi Xiaoman’s wishes and made the third wish purely for herself—

She hoped that on her next birthday, Chi Xiaoman would still be by her side.

[Author’s Note]

Updated Little Neon on time on its forty-fourth day [sunglasses][sunglasses]