A Love Letter Written to You - Chapter 42
Chapter 42
“Your place?”
Leng Ying was confused at first, then understood. “Jingming Pavilion. Has it already been cleaned?”
“Yes. It was done while we were filming the variety show,” Ji Yu answered, sounding slightly guilty. In truth, it had been cleaned long ago—she just wanted an excuse to stay at Leng Ying’s house a bit longer.
Luckily, Leng Ying didn’t notice.
She simply responded with an “Okay,” and Ji Yu immediately called the housekeeper. Then, she turned the car toward Jingming Pavilion.
“When I was a kid in Haicheng, I lived at Jingming Pavilion,” Ji Yu reminisced. “There should still be some of my childhood things left there—if they weren’t thrown out, we might be able to find them.”
Leng Ying had a good memory. As she looked out the window at the scenery flying by, and the approaching address of Jingming Pavilion, a memory surfaced. “I’ve passed by here before.”
“Really?” Ji Yu sounded a little regretful. “It’s a pity we didn’t meet sooner.”
Leng Ying smiled and said, “I used to be… a very proud person.” She glanced at Ji Yu. “You might not have liked me.”
They might not have even become friends.
Ji Yu didn’t agree. “Even if we didn’t like each other at first, we would’ve become friends eventually. What’s the saying… Oh, right, affection grows over time.”
Ji Yu said seriously, “Even if it wasn’t love at first sight, it would’ve been love over time.”
“……”
Leng Ying responded dryly, “You need to study the Chinese dictionary better. I’ll buy you one.”
“Aiya, I actually know Chinese really well,” Ji Yu insisted. “Did I use the wrong phrase?”
Leng Ying was silent for a moment, unsure how to answer.
After thinking for a while, she finally said, “Those phrases are usually used between lovers.”
Ji Yu asked sincerely, “Then what do you say between friends?”
“‘Instantly felt like old friends.’ Or ‘deep and genuine connection.’”
Ji Yu drew out her “Ohhhh,” as if she understood.
She then changed the topic back to Jingming Pavilion. “After I went abroad, no one lived there anymore. Before I came back, my aunt had it cleaned and rehired the old housekeeper.”
Leng Ying nodded. “So, people you’re familiar with.”
“Sort of. But it’s been a long time since I saw them. I’ve spent more time with you than with them lately.”
Leng Ying smiled. “You’re the host; I’m the guest you brought. Of course, I’m not nervous.”
Ji Yu corrected her, “You’re the host too.”
“Can I count as one?”
“Why not?”
Ji Yu thought she absolutely could.
Leng Ying looked at her.
Ji Yu’s certainty made her own hesitation all the more obvious.
Leng Ying fell silent. The idea of becoming lovers with Ji Yu—taking their relationship one step beyond close friendship—that kind of future… Leng Ying could accept it.
She had even imagined it.
But before joy and anticipation came fear.
The fear of separation, the fear of resentment after love fades. Leng Ying feared that if their romantic relationship failed, they might not even be able to remain friends.
She had always known—she wasn’t a very brave person. Rather than welcome a flower’s bloom and accept that it would one day wither, she preferred never to plant the seed at all.
As long as the seed wasn’t sown…
As long as it didn’t sprout…
The flower wouldn’t bloom, and she’d never have to face its eventual decay.
Ji Yu sensed it. She could feel Leng Ying’s gaze lingering on her—something within it made her not want to know more. Ji Yu quickly changed the subject, steering the conversation away, and began telling her about the history of Jingming Pavilion.
It was an old family home, passed down for generations.
…
Just as Ji Yu described, Jingming Pavilion was a house filled with the air of days long past. A private home with its own courtyard, its walls were covered in climbing ivy.
It was a peaceful haven between city and nature.
Leng Ying genuinely liked it. Seeing the brightness in her eyes, Ji Yu felt it was absolutely the right decision to bring her here.
She eagerly took on the role of tour guide. The housekeeper only appeared briefly at the beginning. Ji Yu introduced Leng Ying to him and told her his name—she called him Uncle Wang.
Leng Ying also started calling him Uncle Wang.
Uncle Wang was quiet and discreet. Before long, he had disappeared from sight.
Ji Yu led Leng Ying through every room in the house, and finally they arrived at the attic, which smelled faintly of old wood and age.
“This was my secret base when I was little,” Ji Yu said with a hint of nostalgia on her face. She opened the long-closed attic door and led Leng Ying into her childhood domain.
Warm yellow light streamed through the small attic window like a gentle, silent sun shower, clearing away the dust.
Ji Yu rummaged through some boxes and eventually found a low drawer tucked in a corner. From it, she pulled out a notebook and handed it to Leng Ying.
“Found it!” she said, smiling. “This is a picture book I drew here when I was little~”
Leng Ying opened it. Most of the illustrations were simple, childlike, full of fun and imagination. She smiled and praised, “You’re very talented.”
“Right?” Ji Yu was visibly delighted to be affirmed by Leng Ying. “I’ve always said that if I didn’t have to inherit the family business, I could’ve been a painter.”
Leng Ying thought for a moment. “Then I’ll have to make more money.”
“Why?”
“To buy your paintings.”
Ji Yu laughed so hard her body shook. “Yingying, you’re so cute.”
“?”
Leng Ying looked puzzled. “Did I say something wrong?”
…Probably not?
She added seriously, “Your paintings would definitely be expensive.”
Once Ji Yu said she might become a professional artist, Leng Ying immediately began imagining how she could support her. In her mind, Ji Yu’s paintings would already be selling for high prices in her lifetime.
“……”
Ji Yu went quiet for a moment.
Her gaze fell on Leng Ying’s lips.
Suddenly, Ji Yu noticed just how red they were in the light. Sunlight fell gently on them, making them shimmer softly.
Her neck was pale.
Her lashes were so long—just like Ji Yu had secretly counted at night—long and thick.
Ji Yu swallowed unconsciously.
She realized how close they were now.
She could smell Leng Ying’s scent.
…And Leng Ying could clearly see her throat bobbing.
But Leng Ying remained calm.
The bright moon shines not for me alone. Ji Yu felt a twinge of disappointment in her heart.
Should she break this balance?
She had already resigned herself to being “just friends.”
Leng Ying suddenly heard Ji Yu sigh—long and drawn-out, the sound seemed to echo in the air, stirring something in her heart.
Why was she sighing?
Why did it sound… so disappointed?
Leng Ying was silent. She wanted to reach out and touch Ji Yu’s hair.
Her fingers moved slightly at her side.
But she didn’t raise her hand.
Leng Ying closed the picture book. Though well-preserved, it had some yellowing on the edges from years in the drawer. Some pages were very delicate now.
One careless move could ruin them.
Leng Ying handled it gently. Seeing this, Ji Yu’s mood lifted a little. She took the book back from Leng Ying and said, “Let me take care of it.”
This time, she didn’t put it back in the drawer.
“I’ll take it outside to get some sun,” she said with a smile.
Leng Ying nodded and handed it to her. “Okay. I haven’t finished looking through it yet.”
“There’s not much interesting in there,” Ji Yu admitted. “I just remembered it and wanted to show you.”
“Really?” Leng Ying walked over to the small attic bed, knelt on it, pulled back the curtain, and pointed at a childish pink bow drawn on the wall in the same style. “And this? Also not interesting?”
There was definitely a teasing tone in her voice.
Ji Yu: “……”
Yes, that was her drawing.
She was caught off guard.
After a pause, Ji Yu muttered, “I was just a kid, okay? Just a kid.”
Leng Ying laughed out loud—openly, joyfully. Ji Yu felt relieved. Making Leng Ying happy wasn’t a bad thing at all.
She even willingly moved closer, wanting a better look at her own old drawing on the wall.
The attic bed was narrow, small, and soft.
To see clearly, Leng Ying had to kneel on it, taking up most of the space.
Ji Yu had to squeeze on too if she wanted to see.
The already small space grew even more cramped.
Ji Yu reached out to pull the curtain aside, revealing more little drawings behind it. She was entirely focused, wanting to show Leng Ying even more “treasures.”
“Ying—”
They were so close.
Ji Yu turned her head and only managed to say one syllable. The rest of the word rolled awkwardly back into her mouth.
They were so close.
And this time, it wasn’t like before.
Yes, they’d shared a bed before. But then, it was quiet, the emotion subdued—cold, hidden, like the moon in a sky with no sun.
But today…
Right now…
Ji Yu held her breath.
Their cheeks were so near—just a few millimeters more and they’d touch.
Mischievous sunlight stirred the air in the attic, casting an ambiguous glow.
Clothes brushed together. Arms touched chests. The soft, well-used bed, narrow and aged, felt like a dreamspace removed from the real world—where anything was allowed.
Everything was permitted.
The sun was so generous, so kind, sowing blessings freely.
Leng Ying suddenly thought: maybe flowers don’t need soil to bloom.
They could bloom in water, too.
As long as there was sunlight…
They could still sprout, still blossom.
Even bear fruit.
As if compelled by a force beyond herself—
Leng Ying leaned forward, just a little.
Just a tiny bit.
Her lips landed softly on Ji Yu’s cheek—soft, sweet, fragrant.
How long did they stay there?
One second, two seconds… or maybe four or five…
She didn’t pull away.
And because she didn’t pull away, Ji Yu dared to move closer.
No longer just a kiss on the cheek.
Their lips touched—warm, cool, gently parting.
The moment their lips and teeth met,
The sunlight joined the air and tiny dust particles to play a symphony of intimacy.
Leng Ying suddenly woke from the trance.