The Lady I Flirted With Is Here - Chapter 49

Chapter 49: The Ancient City

Lin Xian sat in the living room, feeling incredibly tense. Her mother and Fang Daiyu had been in the kitchen for nearly half an hour, and she had no idea what they were discussing.

When Lin Fangyun finally called the “kids” to eat, Lin Xian took advantage of the moment her mother went back to the kitchen to grab more dishes to whisper to Daiyu: “My mom didn’t ask you anything weird, did she?”

Fang Daiyu shook her head. “I just helped her with the prep work.”

Lin Xian persisted: “She didn’t ask about our relationship? You didn’t let anything slip?”

Daiyu simply smiled. “Xianxian, your aunt isn’t that much of a gossip. And I’m not that unreliable.” Unable to get more out of her, Lin Xian remained anxious; compared to Daiyu’s composure, it felt like Lin Xian was the one visiting a stranger’s home for the first time.

Dinner was lavish, featuring all of Lin Fangyun’s signature dishes. At least in terms of hospitality, Lin Xian couldn’t fault her mother. It was precisely because everything was so “normal” that Lin Xian was dying to know: did her mother actually like Fang Daiyu, or was this just polite performance?

The meal went so smoothly it felt surreal. Even more surprising were Lin Fangyun’s words: “If you have time, take Daiyu back to the countryside to visit Grandma. There are plenty of fun sights out there, too.”

Lin Xian finally breathed a sigh of relief, believing her mother truly viewed Daiyu as just a regular friend. She happily agreed, “Will do!”

After dinner, Lin Fangyun left, not lingering at the house. Lailai and Jianjian headed out together, acting mysterious and claiming they were meeting classmates. Once again, the house belonged only to Lin Xian and Fang Daiyu.

“Let’s go for a walk in the Ancient City,” Lin Xian suggested. Daiyu nodded with a smile.

Just as they stepped out of the house, a cluster of “burning clouds” lit up the horizon, swirling above the Cangshan mountain range and casting a glow over the entire Erhai Lake. Looking into the distance, it felt like being on another planet entirely. Against the backdrop of the setting sun, many people were by the shore taking silhouette photos.

Fang Daiyu took out her phone and snapped a picture. Lin Xian leaned in close as Daiyu smiled. “It’s like a dream. I finally understand why people say if you want to forget your sorrows, you should go to Dali.”

“Right?” Lin Xian skipped along the path, grabbing Daiyu’s hand. “Come on, I’ll show you a shortcut.” She bypassed the main road and the gate to the Ancient City, pulling Daiyu through a series of narrow alleys behind the houses. When they emerged, the view opened up to fields and the lake.

Along the shores of Erhai, the fields were planted with various crops—tall corn stalks and assorted vegetables. In the distance were sprawling flower gardens. Lin Xian pointed toward them. “When I was little, that was all farmland. My family had a small plot right there. One year, a businessman from out of town set up watermelon greenhouses. When summer came and the melons were ripe, the outsiders needed locals to help. Every night when they came home, my grandparents would bring back a giant watermelon.”

Fang Daiyu listened quietly, envisioning a little girl with a bowl cut, wearing a shirt and shorts, running through the fields.

Here, the horizon was vast. One could see for kilometers, and the heart naturally felt more expansive. It was a sharp contrast to Beijing, where skyscrapers and crowded housing made humans feel insignificantly small.

As they walked further along the lake, the brilliant lights of the Ancient City began to appear. Lin Xian led Daiyu into the city through a back alley. This was the end of Foreigner Street (Yangren Jie), lined with cafes and international restaurants, their decor rich with exotic flair.

Many stalls along the street were unattended, with only a money jar and a price tag displayed.

• “Handmade bracelets, 15 yuan each.”

• “Cloth bags, 25 yuan each.”

There were so many trinkets that Daiyu watched with curiosity. “Don’t they worry about people not paying?”

“Eh, not really,” Lin Xian explained. “Tourists usually aren’t hurting for a few bucks, and if someone tries to steal, the people around would stare them down until they’re too ashamed. If someone really doesn’t pay, they just consider it a donation.”

Lin Xian suddenly chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“What are you laughing at?” Daiyu sensed something.

Lin Xian covered her mouth. “Nothing, it’s just… you know, no businessman is truly ‘honest.’ Many of those ’empty’ stalls aren’t actually empty; the owners are in nearby shops and can see everything. The stuff on the ground? They don’t really care about it. Whether they make a profit or not… it’s more for the vibe.”

Daiyu playfully pinched the girl’s ear. “You were just making up excuses about pure hearts a second ago.”

“I was just trying to protect Sister Daiyu’s innocent soul!” Lin Xian giggled.

Soon, the sound of a street performer reached them. Lin Xian pulled Daiyu forward excitedly. “You’re in luck! ‘Pretty Li’ is singing today.”

Under a lamp post at an alley intersection stood a tall, lean foreigner. In front of him was an open guitar case—one side filled with CDs, the other with spare change. He held a microphone and strummed his guitar, softly singing an American country folk song.

Lin Xian knew Daiyu loved American country music.

A crowd of onlookers surrounded him—local students in indigo school uniforms mixed with traveling couples. Lin Xian pulled Daiyu through a gap in the crowd, and they sat on a small stone step. She pointed at the blond, curly-haired man with deep-set blue eyes. “That’s Pretty Li. He’s the No. 1 singer in the Ancient City. Folk is his specialty. You’re lucky he’s here.”

Lin Xian whispered this right into Daiyu’s ear, her lips accidentally brushing against the earlobe. Fortunately, the night was dim enough to hide the fact that Daiyu’s ear had turned red.

Since they were sitting, Lin Xian naturally put an arm around Daiyu’s slender back and waved to Pretty Li.

The singing boy threw her a wink, causing a few girls behind them to squeal. Lin Xian leaned in again. “Daiyu, you really are lucky. I’ve come home several times and missed him. Are you my little lucky star?”

Using sweet talk on her own turf resulted in Daiyu gently pinching the back of her neck. Lin Xian stopped teasing and noticed Daiyu was listening quite intently. It was an original composition by Pretty Li—ethereal and fresh. Combined with his clear voice, it was captivating.

When the song ended, Pretty Li spoke in Chinese with a heavy American accent: “Thank you all for listening. My Chinese name is Li Piaoliang (Pretty Li). Everyone says I’m good-looking.” He laughed bashfully, prompting more cheers. One bold girl even shouted, “I love you! Come back to Chengdu with me, I’ll give you a baby panda!”

Pretty Li waved his hands frantically. “No, no, I already have a partner.”

Lin Xian whispered to Daiyu: “It’s a boy.”

“And how do you know that?” Daiyu smiled. “My little Xianxian really is the Queen of Gossip.”

Lin Xian looked proud. “Of course! Pretty Li has been here for six or seven years. There isn’t much I don’t know.” She pointed at some students nearby. “Those kids are skipping class. Their teacher should come catch them.”

Daiyu gave her a questioning look, and Lin Xian scratched her head sheepishly. “I… might have done the same back in the day.” She had accidentally revealed her rebellious past. She tried to defend herself: “That’s why I’m in this mess now because I didn’t study hard! Children should stay in school! My behavior should be condemned!”

Seeing her act so serious made Daiyu laugh.

As they left, Pretty Li was still singing. He knew Lin Xian well; she had been a regular supporter since she was a schoolgirl, bringing him flowers and snacks. He later found out those kids had imagined him as a poor, starving artist in a foreign land who needed their help. In reality, he wasn’t struggling at all—he owned property in his home country and had two houses in Dali. He stayed because his partner was a Chinese artist who ran a shop nearby. He sang simply because he enjoyed it.

Daiyu happened to have cash and placed some in his case. As they turned to go, Pretty Li stopped her and pressed two CDs into her hand. “My albums. A gift for you.” He looked at Lin Xian and added, “Got a girlfriend, huh? Not bad!”

“Pretty, right?” Lin Xian beamed. She was proud to show her girlfriend to an old acquaintance. It was through chatting with Pretty Li years ago that she learned he was gay, which eventually helped her realize she was a lesbian. He had given her a lot of encouragement to find true love.

They had a friendship built on exchanged secrets.

Leaving Foreigner Street, they wandered through the bar street and unique boutiques, eventually stopping at a shop that sold postcards. Daiyu didn’t usually write letters or postcards, but in this moment, she felt like trying. With her loved one by her side, things she used to overlook suddenly took on a special meaning.

She took Lin Xian’s hand, bought two envelopes and some paper, and they sat at a small table on the second floor.

“Xianxian, these are letters to the future—ten years from now. I’ll write to you, and you write to me.”

Lin Xian nodded. She immediately scurried to another corner to hide from Daiyu’s view. “No peeking!”

Lin Xian wrote with immense focus. By the time Daiyu had sealed her envelope, Lin Xian was still writing. Finally, they both finished and wrote the delivery addresses.

“I’ll put your hometown address, and you put mine. We don’t know where we’ll be in ten years, but our old home addresses won’t change!” Daiyu said.

After paying the storage fee, Daiyu asked the shop owner, “So many people write to the future. How many write to themselves versus a partner?”

The owner smiled. “We have a social media account where we post submissions. I’ve had this shop for over ten years. Most people end up writing to thank their past selves. Some write to lovers they were once passionate about, or friends they walked beside. But… time is powerful enough to destroy many things.”

Daiyu felt the hand holding hers tighten. Lin Xian pulled her out of the shop.

Under the streetlights, the fine peach fuzz on Lin Xian’s face was visible, as if her profile was gilded in gold. Her voice held a trace of sadness, yet sounded like a distant longing: “Daiyu, if we receive these letters in ten years and we’re still together… let’s write a new one every ten years after that.”

Daiyu didn’t know what to say, so she simply nodded.

The day ended peacefully. When they got home, Lin Jian was already asleep. Lin Xian received a call from her grandmother: “Xian! Bring your friend to the countryside tomorrow to visit. The whole family is having a gathering! If you don’t come, you’re missing out!”

Lin Xian didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She could already picture her grandmother’s furrowed brow. She looked at Daiyu. “Grandma wants me to take you to the countryside tomorrow. Want to go?”

Daiyu, drying her damp hair, looked over, her eyes peeking through her fringe. Her lips curled into a smile. “Sure.”