“What are you staring at me for—” Li Hang stepped forward and gave her a playful flick on the forehead. “Don’t think just because you’re the birthday girl I won’t touch you.”
Song Jin twitched the corner of her mouth, dragged her aside, and questioned her in a voice only the two of them could hear: “Why did you go and tell her about my dream…”
“Tell her what?” Li Hang’s gaze went blank for two seconds. When she looked down and saw the bouquet in Song Jin’s hands, her eyes instantly cleared up: “Oh—!!”
“Stop ‘oh-ing,’ you’ll draw people over,” Song Jin said, quickly giving her a kick to silence her strange noises.
So, Li Hang hadn’t told her. She had thought of giving peach blossoms all on her own?
Song Jin gave Wen Yu a deep look, the emotions in her eyes dark and unreadable.
Seeing that the necessary procedures were finished, Song Jin took the plastic knife handed to her by Du Bing and sat in a chair to begin portioning the cake. Unfortunately, she couldn’t find the right angle; the cut lines were crooked and jagged, leaving the once-beautiful cake looking somewhat disastrous.
Song Jin gave an embarrassed, self-deprecating laugh: “Just make do with it, alright?” As she spoke, she pulled out paper plates from a stack to serve the pieces.
The cake used animal cream, and the moment it was cut, a rich milky fragrance wafted out. The top was adorned with bright, plump strawberries and a few scattered blueberries. In the very center sat a square white chocolate plaque, with “Happy Birthday, Song Xiaohua” written in melted dark chocolate.
—Song Xiaohua was Song Jin’s childhood nickname. It was likely that Li Hang had used it when ordering the cake to avoid attracting unwanted attention.
Song Jin distributed the pieces one by one. When it was Wen Yu’s turn, only the last two pieces remained. She glanced at them and eventually picked out the piece containing the only chocolate plaque for her.
If the fanfics were true, then she should actually quite like chocolate. It was just that after her debut, she had to strictly control her diet and never touched it again.
Wen Yu was also momentarily stunned. She spoke up, “Aren’t you eating it?” After all, from childhood to adulthood, the chocolate plaque was always the birthday person’s exclusive right.
“I don’t like white chocolate,” Song Jin lied, handing the cake over. The latter accepted it without a word and sat to the side eating quietly.
Song Jin felt that Wen Yu was truly a quiet person. Only when required by work or after a certain duration of interaction could she completely open up—though that “opening up” was still smaller than a fingernail.
By the time the gathering broke up, it was nearly 11:30 PM. Li Jiu was the first to give in, letting out a long yawn and saying she was going back to sleep: “I have to be at work at ten tomorrow morning; I really can’t stay up any longer.”
Chen Mingxi followed suit with a yawn: “Ha—I’ve got it worse, eight o’clock tomorrow. Sister Li, can’t we start a bit later?”
“Give it a rest, you talk as if you don’t usually stay up late anyway.” Li Hang scraped the last bit of cream off a paper plate like she was applying putty and popped it into her mouth. “Eight-thirty, and I really can’t push it back any further.”
“Scatter, scatter. Go back, shower, and go to bed.”
Knowing what Li Hang was planning to give, Du Bing had told the driver, Sister Wang, ahead of time that she didn’t need to pick them up tonight and that they would make their own way back.
Song Jin held the flowers in her left hand and swung her keys with her right, a garishly colored scarf wrapped around her neck as she strolled toward the stairs, her heart dancing with joy at the prospect of seeing her new vehicle.
That MV Agusta was primarily red, with the inner rings of the two tires being golden—a strikingly bright color scheme. Furthermore, it was equipped with a four-cylinder 998cc engine; the roar when revving the throttle sounded like a snarling beast. Song Jin couldn’t even imagine how dashing she would look once she mounted it.
She smoothly donned the safety helmet Du Bing had bought. The second before she was about to depart, she caught a glimpse of Wen Yu standing in the distance out of the corner of her eye.
Song Jin lightly squeezed the throttle, slowly inching over to Wen Yu’s side, and said, “Why haven’t you left yet? Where’s your car?”
As she said this, she quite rakishly moved her long legs off the pegs to brace them against the ground. The overhead light hit her new bike perfectly—it was shiny, bright, and so handsome it was almost a crime.
But Wen Yu didn’t look up at all.
“The car is with my assistant, but something came up and she can’t make it over.” Wen Yu’s brows were slightly knit as her fingers flew across her screen, clearly anxious.
After a long moment, she finally put her phone down.
“How is it?”
“Not great. I’ll have to take a taxi back tonight.”
Now it was Song Jin’s turn to frown.
Taking a taxi alone this late at night wasn’t very safe.
She was about to suggest that the three of them call a car together, but before she could speak, Li Hang’s voice suddenly rang out behind them.
Li Hang had changed into a moon-white gauze dress paired with a rabbit fur shawl. She wore light makeup, and her hair had been specially curled; she looked exceptionally gentle.
No one knew just how long she had been eavesdropping. She gave Du Bing a subtle look and suggested, “How about this: I’ll take Du Bing back, and you take Little Wen? Anyway, the place I’m going is on the way to her house.”
“Aren’t you going on a date?” Song Jin gave her a strange look, but when her gaze shifted from Li Hang to Du Bing, the alarm bells in her head went off instantly: “You… you’re not trying to ruin my assistant, are they? My god, Li Hang, have some humanity…”
“Am I that kind of person…”
“Aren’t you exactly that kind of person…”
Li Hang really couldn’t help herself after hearing that and rolled her eyes at Song Jin.
However, Du Bing got off the bike smoothly, handing the helmet and a large pile of gifts to Wen Yu. She actually looked quite excited, affectionately hooking her arm into Li Hang’s to go sit in her hot hatch without even a backward glance.
Song Jin: “…”
Utterly classless!
She muttered curses as she turned her head back, but upon meeting Wen Yu’s face, she began to feel at a loss again. That weird sensation that bubbled up from her heart whenever the two were alone spread through her entire body. Song Jin cleared her throat awkwardly: “Get on.”
She’d just consider it thanks for Wen Yu spending the birthday with her.
“Okay,” Wen Yu nodded.
The night wind in Qing City was biting, especially when you were on an open-top motorcycle on the road. If not for the helmet shielding her, she would have swallowed a belly full of wind just by opening her mouth.
Even as it approached midnight, the roads were still busy with traffic and bright lights. The roadside snack stalls emitted the scent of smoke and life amidst steaming, grilling, and stir-frying; the rising white mist was swept away by the rapidly passing flow of cars.
Whether it was because she didn’t want to crush the flowers in her hand or for some other reason, Wen Yu, on the back seat, didn’t reach out to wrap her arms around Song Jin’s waist. Fearing that she would throw the other woman off if she went too fast, Song Jin could only force herself to keep the speed down, eventually driving at a pace no better than the electric scooters in the next lane.
The consequence of doing this was that the time it took to get home was stretched indefinitely, and the two had to maintain this posture for an unknown amount of time.
Most importantly, it was truly cold out here compared to indoors. Driving all the way back like this might lead to getting sick tomorrow.
Wen Yu was only wearing a thick sweatshirt; it was fine during the day, but not necessarily at night. Song Jin thought about it and, while waiting for a red light at an intersection, unwound the scarf from her neck. Without looking back, she handed it over by feel: “Put this on first. Don’t go catching a cold later and delaying work.”
“Eh? Aren’t you cold?” Wen Yu finally spoke her first sentence since getting on the bike. She instinctively reached out to take it, and the flowers in her arms shifted positions, being cradled in the crook of her arm.
Song Jin’s voice came from inside the helmet, sounding a bit muffled: “I’m fine. I’m more afraid of heat than cold.”
Song Jin gripped the handlebars with both hands, her eyes focused seriously on the road, but her mind had wandered elsewhere.
It was actually quite magical. A few days ago, the two of them were just ordinary rivals; although they had no contact in real life, as long as their names appeared together, the internet would erupt in a flurry of comparisons and insults.
And now, the two people at the center of the controversy had celebrated a birthday together, and now one was sitting on the back seat of the other, heading home together.
Strange, truly strange.
She had bad timing; when she drove to the next intersection, she hit another red light. Song Jin slowly squeezed the brake. Despite this, Wen Yu still leaned forward due to inertia, her helmet bumping none too gently against the back of Song Jin’s head with a crisp clack.
“Sss—Sorry…” Wen Yu straightened up, instinctively wanting to move back, but she forgot that this sportbike didn’t have a top box and had no concept of the bike’s frame. She was already sitting high up, and moving now almost made her fall backward. Luckily, Song Jin’s reactions were fast; sensing Wen Yu’s instability, she immediately reached back and pulled her forward.
Wen Yu bumped into Song Jin’s back with the flowers between them, her right hand instinctively wrapping around Song Jin’s waist. The two helmets bumped together again. She hurriedly tried to let go, only to hear a laugh from the front: “It’s fine, it’s fine. Don’t move around for now. It’s almost green; that’s not safe.”
She spoke casually, as if she were used to such situations.
“Mmh…” Wen Yu gave a low, monosyllabic response.
But she seemed too embarrassed to hold her; the arm wrapped around Song Jin’s waist was only loosely looped there, the strength even lighter than her previous instinctive reaction.
“Do you get motion sickness?”
Song Jin asked out of the blue. Wen Yu was a bit confused but answered honestly: “I don’t.”
Song Jin understood; there was no need to be so cautious then. Seeing the traffic light countdown nearing its end, she revved the engine. The moment the light turned green, she flew forward, startling Wen Yu into tightening her grip. This time, she was truly pressed against Song Jin.
“Hold on tight. I won’t pay for it if you break a bone—”
Her voice was swept into Wen Yu’s ears before being swallowed by the roar of the engine.
With one hand holding the flowers, Wen Yu used her other hand to cling tightly to Song Jin amidst the constant acceleration. She leaned her head against Song Jin’s back shoulder, the rapidly flickering street scenes making her feel somewhat dazed.
Song Jin finished the final stretch of the road in less than ten minutes. If she hadn’t been worried about the safety of carrying a passenger, she could have gone even faster.
She could be reckless on her own, but she couldn’t bring danger to others.
The MV Agusta slowly rolled into the garage. After getting off, Wen Yu’s legs were a bit soft; she nearly slid down along the side of the bike.
Once she regained her composure, she first handed the flowers to Song Jin, then unwound the scarf from her neck layer by layer, draping it over Song Jin’s extended arm. Finally, she took the other items hanging from the front of the bike: “Hard work. I’ll help you carry these for now.”
Song Jin looked down, amused by her own posture; it felt like she was about to go offer a Hada (ceremonial scarf) in the next second.
“Alright then, thank you.”
The elevator doors slowly closed, rising until the 11th floor before opening with a ding. Song Jin helped take all the items from Wen Yu’s hands. After saying goodbye, she went upstairs.
She set the items on the shoe cabinet and pulled the keys from her pocket. Opening the door, turning on the lights, grabbing the things, and closing the door—the movements were all done in one smooth motion. As soon as she entered, she caught sight of that wilted bouquet of jasmine in the living room. After a thought, she replaced them with the peach branches Wen Yu had given her.
Song Jin flopped onto the sofa and habitually lit up her screen to start scrolling through her Moments.
Li Hang had uploaded photos from tonight’s birthday celebration to her private WeChat account; no one knew when they had been taken.
Song Jin clicked through them one by one, her thumb sliding right. When she hit one particular photo, she froze.
The background of the photo was very dark; the only light source was the candles on the cake. Song Jin stood on the far left of the frame with her eyes closed, making a wish, while Wen Yu stood opposite her holding the birthday cake. Perhaps the candlelight was too gentle, making the gaze she used to look at her appear much softer than usual.
Song Jin was silent for a moment, then pressed save.