CS - 52

This year’s birthday was particularly important, so Lin He originally intended to make a big deal out of it for Lin Zhexia.

However, because of her agreement with Chi Yao, Lin Zhexia politely declined Lin He the day before her birthday: “You can celebrate with me in the morning. I’m going out with friends in the afternoon.”

Lin He didn’t mind and only playfully remarked, “You’ve really grown up. When you were little, you used to beg me to celebrate your birthday, but now you’d rather spend it with your friends.”

“No,” Lin Zhexia said, “I just promised my friends. I actually want to celebrate with you guys too.”

Wei Ping asked, “How many friends? Don’t stay out too late.”

In truth, Chi Yao was the only one.

But Lin Zhexia still said, “Three or four.”

After saying that, she didn’t even know why she felt the need to lie about this.

Ever since she started liking Chi Yao,

She subconsciously felt that going out alone with him seemed like a “bad” thing.

But compared to her birthday, she was more concerned about Chi Yao’s family situation. Though they hadn’t talked much about it that day, she had an indistinct premonition. She found it hard to describe, but she knew there was a peculiar connection between her and Chi Yao.

That night, Lin Zhexia couldn’t sleep—a rare occurrence.

With this uneasy feeling, she couldn’t help but think about whether Chi Yao’s family problems could be resolved smoothly.

Most likely not.

Chi Yao’s family was in business. If these people had come knocking, it definitely wasn’t over something trivial.

She recalled the phrase “pay back” from the phone call.

It was probably about money.

If they needed to raise funds, they might have to sell their house. And if they sold the house…

Lin Zhexia didn’t dare to think further.

Before today, she had never imagined that worse than her one-sided, somewhat uncontrollable relationship with Chi Yao—was the possibility that they might lose all connection entirely.

Before turning eighteen, she and Chi Yao were inseparable.

To the point that she almost forgot that apart from living close by and growing up together, they didn’t share any real substantial relationship.

They were childhood friends, brothers, and companions.

But even friendships could end.

Even if not now, perhaps later. If they ended up in different universities, pursued different careers, or if Chi Yao met someone he liked…

Besides these possibilities, countless other futures awaited.

After turning eighteen, as the world expanded, sooner or later, they would begin lives where they no longer had much to do with each other.

“Xia Xia, why is your light still on?” Lin He asked from outside the door. “Are you still awake?”

Lin Zhexia quickly turned off the light, plunging the room into darkness.

“I’m sleeping,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse. “I forgot to turn it off earlier. Goodnight, Mom.”

Lin Zhexia felt like crying.

But this emotion wasn’t entirely sadness.

She lay in bed, closed her eyes, and when she opened them the next morning, she officially turned eighteen.

Early in the morning, Wei Ping prepared a bowl of noodles for her and presented his carefully chosen gift: “My gift this time is really cool.”

Lin Zhexia unwrapped the package, and inside was no longer something pink or a fluffy ornament.

Instead, it was a pair of sunglasses.

Wei Ping explained in detail: “There’s a button here. Press it, and it will light up. Have you seen Detective Conan? If you want, you can mimic Conan’s hand gesture, and it will light up.”

Lin Zhexia: “….”

After a while, she said, “It’s really cool. Thank you, Uncle. I love it.”

Lin He’s gift was much more practical—a set of skincare products.

“To my eighteen-year-old girl,” she smiled and said, “Happy Birthday. Alright, finish breakfast and get ready. You’ll see your friends later.”

Lin Zhexia said another “thank you.” After eating, she returned to her room and carefully picked out her clothes.

Because she was going to meet Chi Yao, she realized while looking in the mirror after changing that she had unconsciously chosen a white long dress.

Wearing such a formal dress… wouldn’t it seem too deliberate?

Lin Zhexia stood in front of the mirror, debating with herself for a long time. In the end, she changed out of the dress and wore a T-shirt. However, while matching her outfit, she couldn’t resist adding a denim pleated skirt.

……

Anyway, the skirt looked quite casual.

It felt like she was secretly meeting Chi Yao.

Before leaving, she sent Chi Yao a message: Wait for me at the entrance of the neighborhood later.

After thinking, she decided this message wasn’t precise enough.

• No, walk a bit farther.

• Let’s meet by the lake.

Chi Yao replied quickly.

• Are you treating this like an underground rendezvous?

Lin Zhexia: …

• I’m downstairs.

• Come down when you’re ready.

Lin Zhexia took a deep breath and then told Lin He and Wei Ping, “I’m heading out.”

When she went downstairs, she noticed Chi Yao was dressed formally too. He wasn’t wearing his usual T-shirts but had on a crisp white shirt, with the top two buttons undone. The ripped jeans he paired with it made the whole ensemble look clean yet rebellious.

Lin Zhexia ran over: “Where are you taking me?”

Chi Yao didn’t speak but instead looked at her first.

Lin Zhexia was wearing a short skirt today, her slender legs exposed. Her white socks bunched around her ankles. Without makeup, her hair loose, she looked exceptionally docile.

His throat moved slightly, and he shifted his gaze, saying after a moment, “You’ll find out when we get there.”

Lin Zhexia responded with an “oh” and followed behind Chi Yao. They went to the bus station and boarded a long-distance bus.

They sat in the back, and Lin Zhexia felt as if their “date” had suddenly turned into a “runaway.” Feeling nervous for some reason, she asked, “Is the place far?”

Chi Yao: “Not too bad. It’ll take over an hour.”

He added, “Sleep a bit, and we’ll be there.”

Lin Zhexia: “I just woke up. How could I possibly fall asleep? I’m not a pig.”

Knowing her too well, Chi Yao didn’t believe her: “Alright, don’t sleep later.”

After a while,

Lin Zhexia suddenly called him: “Chi Yao.”

“You’re not planning to kidnap me, are you?”

“…”

“It’s arranged with the butcher,” Chi Yao leaned back as he spoke. “Today, I’m taking you over to see how much someone like you could fetch.”

“…” Lin Zhexia mumbled, “You’re the pig.”

After a while, more people got on the bus.

The bus became noisy.

Chi Yao took out a pair of earphones, handing one to her before putting his on: “Want one?”

Lin Zhexia accepted.

She inserted the earphone into her ear; the long wire connected her to Chi Yao.

Her hands overlapped nervously on her skirt.

Though she said she couldn’t possibly fall asleep just after waking up, within half an hour, listening to the soothing music through the earphones, she fell asleep amidst the slight bumps of the bus.

Drowsily, she felt her head hit something hard.

But before she could fully wake up from the pain, something warm gently held her head, and she seemed to fall into a sea of clouds in her dream.

When she woke up again, she found her head resting on Chi Yao’s shoulder.

The distance between them was very close.

Looking up, she could see the youth’s neck and jawline.

After a moment, she heard Chi Yao’s voice: “Still saying you’re not a pig.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia straightened up: “…How did I end up leaning on you?”

Chi Yao glanced at her and said indifferently, “You leaned on me yourself.”

Lin Zhexia awkwardly responded with an “oh.”

The bus had been a bit bumpy earlier.

And she had fallen asleep, so tilting her head was normal.

Soon, the bus arrived at its destination. Looking out the window, Lin Zhexia realized they had left Cheng’an District and reached the outskirts of Lianyun City, a remote but beautiful area.

She vaguely remembered this place because Lin He and Wei Ping had mentioned it when discussing travel plans. Several times, Wei Ping wanted to bring them here, but they never had the chance.

Lin Zhexia got off the bus and discovered their destination was called “Luo Mountain Botanical Garden.”

“So this is your birthday gift for me, bringing me to experience nature,” Lin Zhexia was a bit surprised, as visiting such a place was reminiscent of a school spring outing. “Your thoughtful intention has reached me.”

But Chi Yao didn’t elaborate: “Your gift hasn’t arrived yet.”

“Time?”

Lin Zhexia thought touring the botanical garden was the birthday gift, but Chi Yao’s words confused her: “What gift? Why is there a specific time? Can’t you give it to me before then?”

Chi Yao didn’t say much and led her to check in.

Under the bright afternoon sun, the botanical garden was vast—it seemed like a full day wouldn’t be enough to explore it all.

From the entrance, the entire path was filled with large patches of hydrangeas. Next to the blue-purple hydrangeas stood a sign introducing them, with three words written on it: “Endless Summer.”

Although this activity resembled a spring outing, Lin Zhexia enjoyed it immensely. Everything here represented “summer.”

A garden filled with plants that only bloom in summer.

While crouching to closely examine the hydrangeas, Lin Zhexia sensed a gaze. She sharply turned around to see Chi Yao taking photos with his phone.

“What are you photographing?”

Chi Yao lowered his phone: “Scenic shots.”

Lin Zhexia, worried he had captured her and possibly unflatteringly, anxiously said, “I don’t believe you. You’re standing so far away; you must have captured a lot. Let me see if you’ve taken an ugly picture of me.”

Like the time on the sofa, Chi Yao raised his phone high: “Come and get it yourself.”

Lin Zhexia tiptoed beside him, trying to reach it.

Since there were other tourists behind them, they couldn’t stand there indefinitely, so she bounced around as she moved. With rabbit ears on her head, she would have truly become a rabbit.

Fortunately, she had a short memory. Seeing something new distracted her from the earlier photo incident.

Ahead was a towering ancient tree, similar to the ones she saw at the temple, though likely of a different species. Most importantly—the tree was covered with red wishing ribbons.

These ribbons dyed the entire tree red, a passionate and vibrant sight, adorned with countless wishes.

Perhaps, many of the wishes hanging there years ago had quietly come true.

A thought faintly emerged in Lin Zhexia’s mind.

Before she could fully contemplate it, the next second, the thought came true.

Chi Yao, after scanning the code, walked toward her with two red wishing ribbons: “Come here.”

“Make a wish.”

Lin Zhexia was momentarily stunned.

Chi Yao added, “Your birthday wish.”

This eighteenth year, the ways she and Chi Yao made their birthday wishes were unique. Chi Yao had wished in the pouring rain by candlelight, while she… she looked up at the ancient tree, seeing the vibrant sunlight and red ribbons.

Her eighteenth-year wish would forever hang in this passionate summer.

Because wishes shouldn’t be seen by others, Lin Zhexia deliberately kept her distance from Chi Yao while writing her wish.

Holding the pen, she thought for a long time. Finally, after glancing around, she secretly wrote two characters: Chi Yao.

Stroke by stroke.

She wrote it very seriously.

Even though she knew that this was a wish that could never come true in her lifetime.

Every year on her birthday, she made many wishes.

When she was little, she wished to grow taller the next year, taller than Chi Yao.

After realizing growing taller was hopeless, the next year she changed her wish: I hope I score better than Chi Yao on the final exam so he can’t call me an idiot anymore.

Of course, that wish didn’t come true either.

……

There were many such wishes—countless ones that ended without resolution.

In the end, most birthday wishes didn’t have an ending.

So there was nothing wrong with writing these two characters this year.

After all, hanging these two characters here, mixing them among countless other wishing ribbons, occasionally glimpsed by passing tourists—it was the only way outsiders could know about her feelings for Chi Yao.

“Done.” Lin Zhexia capped the pen.

Then she hid the wishing ribbon behind her back, fearing Chi Yao might see it.

To divert attention, she cleared her throat and asked, “What did you write?”

But Chi Yao calmly held his ribbon in his hand, concealing the written part: “Want to see?”

Lin Zhexia nodded.

Chi Yao smirked slightly: “No.”

“…”

“Today’s my birthday,” Lin Zhexia said, “I should be the big brother for a day.”

Chi Yao thought for a moment, seemingly agreeing with her request: “Then ask again.”

Lin Zhexia: “What did you write? Let me see.”

Chi Yao repeated his answer: “Big brother, no.”

Lin Zhexia: “….”

Was this what she meant by being the big brother?

Did he just add “big brother” before the words “no”?

Chi Yao turned the conversation back on her, glancing at the ribbon in her hand a few times, and countered: “What did you write?”

……

Lin Zhexia decided to end the topic: “I think we shouldn’t be too curious about each other’s wishes.”

With that, she walked past him and found an inconspicuous corner to hang her ribbon.

From across the way, Chi Yao asked her, “Can you reach it?”

Lin Zhexia tiptoed, afraid he’d come over to help, hastily hung her ribbon behind someone else’s, ensuring it was completely hidden: “Of course I can reach it.”

The two wandered around the botanical garden for half the day, and soon it grew dark. The places where they had hung their ribbons earlier lit up with small lights one by one.

Lin Zhexia remembered Chi Yao mentioning a “gift” when he brought her into the garden, so she couldn’t help but ask, “Where’s my gift? It’s not just the wishing ribbon, is it? But wishing ribbons don’t need a time limit; you can hang them anytime…”

As she spoke, she noticed that the place Chi Yao was leading her now was a secluded path that no one passed through.

Unlike the paved stone paths in other parts of the botanical garden, this deep, hidden path looked very mysterious, devoid of any pedestrians, like some dangerous yet intriguing entrance.

Lin Zhexia was about to say, “You’re not really going to sell me, are you?” but before the words left her mouth, Chi Yao, walking ahead, reached a hand back to her to ensure she wouldn’t get lost.

Lin Zhexia hesitated for a moment, then lightly grabbed his sleeve.

Then, as if sleepwalking, she let the boy in front lead her down this path.

Suddenly, the view opened up.

Beyond this path lay a vast grove hidden deep within the botanical garden. Towering trees surrounded by shrubs gave the appearance of a small forest. As Chi Yao led her into it, the darkness was dispelled by countless points of glowing light. The entire “forest” suddenly lit up, filled with thousands of fireflies hovering low in the air.

It was like a sea formed by fireflies.

A grand sea of fireflies on a midsummer night.

Lin Zhexia felt as though she were amidst a starry sky, the whole world illuminated at this moment.

In this “sea of stars,” Chi Yao’s voice softened as he said to her, “Happy Birthday.”

Lin Zhexia felt that Chi Yao had spent the entire day collecting all the beauties of summer for her.

This birthday gift far exceeded her expectations.

“Thank you,” she said, “How did you think to bring me here?”

“I did some research.”

Chi Yao added, “I also asked Xu Ting; he said he’d been here before.”

Lin Zhexia responded with an “Oh”: “This place is really beautiful.”

Then the two stood quietly in this sea of glowing lights.

The world became very quiet, so quiet that Lin Zhexia faintly felt something else was about to happen.

That peculiar premonition between her and Chi Yao returned at this moment.

Just as Chi Yao was about to say something, Lin Zhexia, standing in this sea of glowing lights, interrupted him: “Chi Yao.”

She looked at him earnestly and asked, “Are you leaving?”

“Are you going to Jing City…” Once she started this topic, the following words came out more smoothly, “…to be with Uncle and Auntie?”

Chi Yao was looking down at her.

It felt like a long time passed before she heard Chi Yao hum in response.

So this was eighteen.

She and Chi Yao couldn’t continue living together like this indefinitely.

Unknowingly, the fork in fate’s road had arrived at the time for parting.

Chi Yao originally didn’t know how to say it. In his mind, Lin Zhexia might cry, might sob like she did in middle school, asking him not to go.

After all, this coward feared nothing more than separation.

But what he hadn’t expected was Lin Zhexia’s calm demeanor.

She even showed a somewhat immature resilience.

“I guessed,” Lin Zhexia told him, “Am I very smart?”

Chi Yao hummed again, his tone unusually gentle: “You’re the smartest coward in the world.”

“I’m not a coward anymore.”

Not anymore.

And it was because of him that she had become brave.

She just hadn’t expected that the brave Lin Zhexia would face the day of bravely saying goodbye to Chi Yao.

“There’s been a bit of a problem with the capital chain in Jing City; we plan to sell the house first,” Chi Yao explained briefly, “My mom’s in the hospital and will have surgery next month. I need to go take care of her.”

“Auntie’s sick? Is it serious?” she asked.

“The surgery has some risks,” Chi Yao said, “We’re not sure yet.”

“…”

In the face of these matters, words seemed powerless. Lin Zhexia softly said, “I hope everything will be okay. Auntie seems like the kind of person who could live to a hundred and still intimidate other old ladies with her presence.”

Lin Zhexia had originally wanted to say that she had saved some New Year money.

And if needed, Lin He and Wei Ping would certainly be willing to help them.

……

But she knew Chi Yao too well.

This person was too proud to accept such “help.”

“When are you leaving? I’ll come to see you off.”

Lin Zhexia finally said, “But don’t think that once you’re gone, you can ignore your best friend.”

“I’ll still message you. I’ll send you lots and lots of messages.”

“You have to remember to reply to my messages.”

Lin Zhexia initially wasn’t sad, but for some reason, as she spoke, a subtle wave of nasal acidity crept up: “If you don’t reply, I’ll… I… Well, it’s too far; I can’t reach you anyway.”

Chi Yao, however, said, “I won’t.”

“What do you mean, ‘I won’t’?”

“I won’t ignore your messages.”

“Will you send me more messages then?” Lin Zhexia asked again.

“How much is more?”

“A few hundred a day. Anyway, more than me.”

“Do I look that idle?”

“Fifty then.”

“…”

“Ten,” Lin Zhexia finally said, “Ten should be fine, right? Morning, noon, and goodnight already make three.”

Chi Yao glanced at her: “So, I have to greet you every day?”

“Greet the big brother,” Lin Zhexia spoke slowly, “…Isn’t that normal?”

The two immaturely discussed how many messages they should exchange daily.

In the end, Chi Yao didn’t specify how many he would send, and the topic quickly passed.

An inexplicable silence fell between them for a moment.

Lin Zhexia couldn’t help but call him: “Chi Yao.”

“…You probably won’t fall in love, right?”

Reason told her she shouldn’t bring up such a dangerous question, shouldn’t steer the conversation in this direction.

But she couldn’t control herself.

Jing City was so far away. He would transfer to a new school, meet new people.

After separating from Chi Yao, countless possibilities would unfold in her absence.

Among these countless possibilities, might there be one where he meets someone he likes?

“I mean, senior year is very important. If you go to Jing City, it’s best not to waste your thoughts on trivial things,” Lin Zhexia, with selfishness tainting her words, spoke with less confidence, her voice growing softer, “…so, you should focus on studying. Studying is the most important thing.”

“If you fall in love…”

Lin Zhexia’s words stopped abruptly.

What if he does fall in love?

Whether Chi Yao falls in love or not, what right does she have to interfere?

After her words abruptly halted, Chi Yao suddenly asked, “What about you?”

As the young man spoke, his voice dimmed along with the light in his eyes, his pupils darkening. Her answer seemed exceptionally important to him: “Will you?”

“Of course not,” Lin Zhexia said with a tone of setting an example, “And if I dare to fall in love, Lin He will be the first to kill me.”

“I won’t either.”

Chi Yao spoke as he looked into her eyes, “…I won’t fall in love. I’ll study hard.”

After saying that, he raised his hand and voluntarily made the childish gesture he had always scoffed at. He curled his pinky finger, slightly elongating the last syllable: “If you’re worried… do you want to make a pinky promise?”

All around, yellow-green fireflies glowed.

It was as if God had plucked the stars from the sky and placed them on Earth.

Lin Zhexia carefully hooked her finger with Chi Yao’s, thinking that this “pinky promise” was the best gift she received this year.

Even if.

It was a promise that likely wouldn’t hold.

A meaningless vow that would be erased by time in the long years once they truly parted.

But at least, today she and Chi Yao had made a pinky promise.

She could hide this promise in her eternal memories of being eighteen, hide it in this summer, hide it in that unshowable midsummer night.