"Ling—Lingjing... what's wrong?" Shasha's own heart was pounding too. A girl's body being seen by someone—what's that even supposed to mean? She couldn't work it out, but seeing Lingjing cry, she pushed all that restless thinking aside and sat down on the edge of the bed to comfort her.
"Waaah... Jiaming, he—Jiaming, he..."
"Right, Jiaming's just awful. He didn't even knock, he just barged in. When I get my hands on him..."
"N-no, that's not it. Waaah... Jiaming saw us like that. He... he must think I'm disgusting now..."
"How—how could he? Jiaming wouldn't..."
"He definitely won't say it out loud. But... but he'll be thinking it inside, I know he will. Waaah..."
The little girl whimpered softly. Shasha floundered around trying to comfort her, but she had little experience with this sort of thing, and every attempt came out as "I'll go give Jiaming a beating." They were both his friends, but he had seen not only Lingjing's body, hers as well—a beating was the least he deserved.
Sitting beside her and handing her tissues, it was a good ten minutes before Lingjing stopped crying on her own, though her voice still caught and trembled: "He... he really won't look down on me?"
"Oh, come on, he won't. At most he'll be... envious." Shasha was talking nonsense off the top of her head. A moment later, though, she lowered her voice and asked, "Lingjing, do you... like Jiaming?"
In this day and age, saying "like" practically meant the same thing as "love." The question alone flooded Lingjing's little face red again: "We... we grew up together. We... we're good friends..."
"That's not what I'm asking." Shasha gave her a pat, playing it casual. "You know what I mean. I'm asking, when you grow up, do you want to marry him?"
Lingjing dropped her head, bashful, and after a long, long pause stammered: "I—I... Last year, on the camping trip, when those two men caught me, he... he said he'd trade himself for me, and he said I was his... his..."
She dug up her courage for ages, but the word "girlfriend" still wouldn't come out. Shasha understood her anyway; something in her chest seemed to hollow out a little. Even so, she caught Lingjing's hand in hers: "All right, I get it. If he dares laugh at you, I'll... I'll... hmph. Anyway, he wouldn't dare. Come on, let's go out and have breakfast..."
"But..."
"We can't skip breakfast too, can we? There are two of us and only one of him—no reason to be scared of him!" She seemed to have forgotten that the two of them had never been scared of Jiaming in the first place, but right now she was feeling a little guilty all the same. She smoothed her clothes; when they walked out the door, Lingjing's eyes were still red.
Hot congee, fried dough sticks and soy milk had long since been laid out on the table downstairs. As the two came down and finished washing up, Jiaming had a bowl of congee in both hands and was gulping it down, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably. Shasha had already been feeling shy as she walked over, but the sight of him drove her temper straight up; she snatched up a small pillow and brought it down on him.
"Laugh, will you—laugh, will you..."
"Phew... hahahaha... stop hitting me, I surrender... hahahaha..."
"You're still laughing!" Shasha planted her hands on her hips and marched around to Jiaming's other side, so that the two girls flanked him. Only where Shasha looked murderous, Lingjing was twisting her hands in front of her chest, her scallion-slender fingers wrung red and purple, and her brimming eyes looked ready to spill over into tears of grievance again. Jiaming reached out a finger and gently wiped a drop of tears from her cheek—then spread both arms and pulled the two little girls in by the shoulders.
The dining chairs at Shasha's house were big to begin with, so with that one tug both girls ended up seated at his sides. The three had played together since they were small; a little roughhousing or hand-holding was nothing strange. But this was the first time Jiaming had ever been so affectionate. Held by the shoulders, both girls leaning against him at once, they turned red—yet neither of them struggled.
Jiaming said softly, "Relax, I get it. We've been together all these years—this is just a little thing. Hmm... okay, it did give me a scare, sure. But no matter what, the three of us are still good friends, aren't we? From now on, friends for a lifetime... So, you see, now I know all about it. You don't have to hold back around me at all. Here—give each other a kiss and let me see... hahahaha... ah, that hurts, direct hit..."
As a matter of fact, Jiaming had badly overestimated the girls' emotional intelligence: neither of them had understood the first half of that speech. But the middle part did set Shasha's and Lingjing's minds at ease, so when Jiaming mischievously shoved the two girls together trying to make them kiss, they punched him at the same instant with perfect teamwork. Escaping with flushed cheeks, Shasha was just opening her mouth to speak when Jiaming—normally such a peaceable sort—abruptly leapt up and swung the down cushion from behind him at her head.
Dust flew everywhere. Caught off guard, Shasha had no choice but to clumsily scramble under the dining table to the other end, seize a cushion, and come hunting after him. Jiaming ran for his life.
"Gu Jiaming, don't you dare run..."
"Come on, then, Liu Huaisha! Lingjing would have been my girlfriend—and you stole her from me! Today I'm going to give you a proper beating!"
"Hmph—Eat your heart out! Eat your heart out! Lingjing's mine now, so you just stand still..." Shasha, caught up in the excitement, planted a defiant kiss on Lingjing's fair little cheek, then swung up her cushion and charged after him.
Thump, thump, thump—whump, whump, whump...
The whole villa descended into chaos. Only Lingjing still stood where she was, her face pink. Jiaming had said she was supposed to have been his girlfriend; Huaisha had joined in to stir things up; what did Jiaming mean, he could understand? And friends for a lifetime. A lifetime.
Is that all it takes to settle it? Isn't it... a little weird...?
She thought it over for a long while and never came up with a satisfactory answer. She only stroked the spot where Huaisha had teasingly kissed her, and a look half annoyed and half amused came over her pretty face. Then she picked up a cushion from beside her and charged at the other two.
"Aah—"
Forget it. Leave it like this...
"Ah—two against one? That's not fair... you shameless little sluts..." This was the scene of Jiaming being chased all over the house.
"Haha, Lingjing, help me hit him—come on, help—yaah... why are you hitting me too... Jiaming, you're despicable, sneaking in an attack on me..." This was the scene of Lingjing abruptly switching sides and letting Jiaming slip in his sneak attack.
"Yaah—Help! I give up, I give up, I give up, I give up... Help!" This was the scene of the weakest of the three, Lingjing, pinned down on the sofa and ravaged with cushions...
Rumbling and tumbling, noisy and clamorous—in the Liu family villa that morning, the air was full of pure, innocent childishness...
Who'd have thought I'd actually go and write lilies... Of course lilies aren't the theme of this book. I had it settled before I ever picked up the pen: whatever's fun, whatever's shameless, that's how I write it. Fifty thousand words now, so please, everyone, plenty of clicks, bookmarks and votes—thank you. The new-book rankings are far out of reach, but I'd still like to see how far I can go...