Can't Hide My Love for You - Chapter 69

Seeing Chi Yi dazed, Cheng Yixin noticed a faint flush rising in her eyes.

“What, are you unwilling?” she teased.

“I am willing,” Chi Yi pursed her lips, repeating more firmly: “I am willing.”

“Good,” Yixin smiled gently. “Girlfriend, there’s one more thing I want to tell you. I remember now.”

Chi Yi blinked, her reaction still a bit slow from the overwhelming joy.

“The things from when we were little,” Yixin explained softly. “I had a dream the night before last—it felt so real. My grandparents were there, the small river, and a lonely little girl. That girl was you, wasn’t she? I thought you had the wrong person, but it turns out I just forgot.” A flicker of guilt crossed her face; how could she have forgotten something so important?

“How did you recognize me?” Yixin asked. Even though her own memories were blurred, she was certain that back then, she was like a wandering hero in a martial arts drama—waving a hand and leaving without a name. Yet, after ten years, Chi Yi found her.

“I was on a business trip and saw a variety show on TV,” Chi Yi said. “There was a segment where they showed photos of the guests as children. I recognized yours instantly. I’ve been following you ever since.”

Yixin was stunned. Chi Yi hadn’t been being polite when she said she’d followed her for a long time; it had nothing to do with Lu Qing.

“Starting your ‘puppy love’ so young, huh?” Yixin joked, though she felt a tiny pang of worry that Chi Yi only loved her out of gratitude.

“You’re misunderstanding one thing,” Chi Yi said seriously. “Saving me as a child was the catalyst that allowed us to meet, but the love started after we met. Your charm is what attracts me. My love for you has nothing to do with being saved.”

“Are you a mind reader?” Yixin hooked a finger toward Chi Yi, grabbing her collar to pull her into a kiss. Just as her lips touched the soft surface, she heard the grandmother’s voice: “Little Cheng, are there enough potatoes left to eat?”

The intrusion snapped Yixin back to reality, and she cowardishly pulled away. Seeing Chi Yi burst into laughter at her flustered state made Yixin huff. If she weren’t afraid of giving the poor grandmother a heart attack, she wouldn’t have been so skittish!

Grandma Guilan wandered in. “Little Chi is back, I see.”

“I am, Grandma,” Chi Yi replied.

“Grandma, did you pick more vegetables?” Yixin asked, noticing the bundle of grass-like plants in the old woman’s hand.

“I found these herbs. Haven’t seen them in years, but they used to be great for treating bruises. Little Chi, didn’t you fall? You can use this,” the grandmother gestured. “Mash it up and apply it to the arm.”

“Thank you, Grandma. I’ll take care of it tonight.”

Dinner at Grandma’s was a struggle for Yixin. It wasn’t the ingredients—some people are just born without the “cooking gene,” and the grandmother was one of them. “Grandma!” Yixin volunteered. “Let me cook tonight!”

The grandmother happily handed over the kitchen. But stepping inside, Yixin realized there was no gas or electricity—only a primitive wood-fired stove. The pot was large enough for her to take a bath in. Her plan to show off her tomato and egg stir-fry died instantly, especially since there were neither tomatoes nor eggs.

“I’ll help you,” Chi Yi said.

With her dominant hand injured, Chi Yi couldn’t stir-fry, but she could tend the fire and dictate the seasoning. The stove was a challenge; too little wood and nothing cooked, too much and everything burned. The first batch of greens came out half-charred.

“Chi~ Yi~~” Yixin pouted, holding the plate of burnt vegetables.

“The fire is stable now,” Chi Yi said, putting down the straw. “I’ll do it.” Using only her left hand, Chi Yi managed a dish that actually looked and smelled delicious.

“My Chi Yi is the best!” Yixin snapped several photos for her collection.

“I thought you’d learn to cook for your parents during New Year,” Chi Yi laughed. “Guess I thought too much.”

“My dad is the chef; it’s never my turn.” Yixin paused, suddenly thinking of taking Chi Yi home. She wondered if the busy “President Chi” would ever have time. “Do you want to come to my house? My parents’ house, I mean. But you probably don’t have time.”

“I have time. We can go whenever you want.”

The shared dinner was a hit. Eating food made by her girlfriend, Yixin’s appetite—which had been small lately—returned in full force.

After the meal, they boiled a large pot of water over the remaining embers. Because of the cold and the primitive bathroom, Chi Yi had only been doing quick sponge baths. “I’ll help you wash,” Yixin said, and she wasn’t joking.

The bathroom was a tiny concrete stall next to the stove, barely a square meter in size. There was no light, only the dim glow from the kitchen.

“Is it cold?” Yixin asked. Chi Yi’s skin broke into goosebumps the moment she undressed. “Cold,” she replied.

Seeing the dark purple bruise on Chi Yi’s arm, Yixin’s heart ached. “We need to get your hand checked at a hospital.” Chi Yi hummed in agreement.

Yixin gently washed her with a warm towel and soapy water. After dressing her and buttoning her vest, Yixin pressed her against the rough concrete wall, leaning in to nip at her lower lip—a signal for a kiss. The longing of their time apart surged. She interlocked her fingers with Chi Yi’s left hand, deepening the kiss.

“Is someone still in there?” Zou Wen’s voice called from outside.

The atmosphere shattered. Yixin pulled back and shouted, “Still washing! Almost done!” I hate the lack of privacy in the mountains, she thought.

Outside, Yixin set to work on the herbs. The stone mortar was tiny and the roots were tough. After just a few minutes, Yixin’s wrist was vibrating with the effort.

“Forget it, don’t worry about it,” Chi Yi said, seeing her struggle.

“Even if I break this hammer, I’m getting this medicine ready for you.”

Thirty minutes later, Yixin applied a thick layer of green paste to Chi Yi’s arm and wrapped it in gauze. “If this works, I’ll have Grandma take me to pick more tomorrow.”

“I don’t want you to be that tired,” Chi Yi said.

“I feel the same way about you being in pain.”

They sat by the fire. “What do you do here at night?” Yixin asked. “No internet is so boring.”

“Boring? I don’t think so,” Chi Yi paused. “I spend the morning, noon, and night thinking about you. It’s quite fulfilling.”

Yixin giggled. “I love hearing that. Good Chi Yi baby.”

“Actually, there is a place I want to take you—my secret base.”

“!” Yixin remembered the starry photo Chi Yi had sent.

“The team said there might be meteors these few days. If we’re lucky, we’ll see them.”

“Well, I’m out of luck then. My luck has been terrible lately,” Yixin sighed.

Chi Yi took out her phone, stepped out into the yard for a signal, and returned. “Yixin, come here.”

She showed Yixin her phone: a chat with two “Red Envelopes” (Hongbao) sent. “I sent ten envelopes, but only one has the 200 yuan limit. Pick one. If you get the 200, your luck isn’t that bad.”

Yixin’s phone hadn’t received them yet, so she picked on Chi Yi’s screen. “Number seven!”

“Are you sure?”

“Wait! Number one… no, no, number seven! Definitely seven!”

Chi Yi opened it. 200.00 Yuan.

“Oh yeah!” Yixin cheered. “Looks like my luck is great today!”

“It is,” Chi Yi smiled. “If we don’t see them now, it’s the meteors’ fault, not yours.”

“Let’s go to the secret base!” Yixin chirped, skipping toward the gate.

So easy to coax, Teacher Cheng.