SBAB Chapter 46

Lin Xin suddenly jumped up, bouncing high as if his feet were equipped with springs. He quickly took several steps back, and his butt hit the sink with a loud crash, sounding like an exploding building. His face was a strange mix of red and blue, even more unnatural than when Gu Nian had been caught.

Cheng Shiyin was stunned by Lin Xin’s repeated dramatic reactions and obediently went to add water to the dumplings, not pursuing the issue of the rolling pin feeling off.

But inside her, a question she hadn’t voiced lingered: Why, when her eyes glanced at the countertop, was the rolling pin that Lin Xin had supposedly dropped still quietly lying exactly where it should be? Why did the hand she had just used to touch the rolling pin have no flour on it, and yet feel warm?

Cheng Shiyin turned her back, discreetly feeling the real rolling pin. As expected, it was covered in flour and cold to the touch.

Something felt off here. Cheng Shiyin suddenly didn’t understand.

The mismatch was so obvious, the details so clear. Cheng Shiyin’s mind flashed with scenes from comedy films, where similar things had happened. But no matter how much she thought, she couldn’t come to a conclusion that made sense, or rather, the conclusions were so ridiculous that she couldn’t deny them outright. In the end, Cheng Shiyin buried all her doubts in her heart and let the ridiculousness go.

She couldn’t say it out loud.

Cheng Shiyin and Lin Xin divided the dumplings into two plates: 20 for Cheng Shiyin, and 40 for Lin Xin. They each carried their simple New Year’s meal to the coffee table in the living room. But of course, a coffee table isn’t meant for eating; it’s fine for snacks, but not for a meal. Sitting on the sofa was too high, and squatting hurt their legs. They couldn’t find a small stool at the right height, so they simply sat down on the floor, which turned out to be just right. After all, the floor had underfloor heating, so aside from being hard, it had no other downsides.

The warmth from the underfloor heating spread upward, warming their butts, and the heat traveled up, making their faces flush, matching the colors of the Spring Festival Gala stage. It was a small touch of the New Year’s spirit, even though they had no spring couplets or holiday goods.

With everything ready, Cheng Shiyin and Lin Xin could finally enjoy the fruits of their labor. Cheng Shiyin picked up a dumpling with her chopsticks, raised them to Lin Xin, and said, “Cheers!”

Lin Xin mimicked Cheng Shiyin’s actions, clinking his dumpling against hers, and replied, “Cheers.” Then, following Chinese drinking etiquette, he happily popped the dumpling into his mouth.

“… Hiss.” Both of them let out the same sound. Cheng Shiyin and Lin Xin glanced at each other and, embarrassed, covered their mouths, laughing. The dumplings were indeed delicious, but they were also hot.

In addition, Lin Xin couldn’t help but notice Cheng Shiyin’s cheek, puffed out from the dumpling, looking even more appetizing than the dumplings in front of them. Her eyes were curved in a way that looked like two crescent moons. So cute, Lin Xin thought, pounding his chest in admiration.

Cheng Shiyin, being admired, also found herself admiring the one admiring her. Lin Xin’s face, usually so angular, now looked slightly rounder due to the dumplings, and it made Cheng Shiyin suddenly recall the first time they met. At that time, Lin Xin was neither as tall nor as slim as he was now.

When they first met, Lin Xin had heavy stage makeup on, and it was hard to see her real appearance. But Cheng Shiyin, almost mesmerized, couldn’t take her eyes off her, wanting to say: “You’re so beautiful.” But, to be honest, Lin Xin back then wasn’t exactly beautiful; she had an ordinary look, far from the present…

Why wasn’t she more beautiful back then? It had only been a few months since their first meeting, and Cheng Shiyin found herself questioning something she couldn’t answer.

However, there was one thing about Lin Xin that had never changed.

Cheng Shiyin looked into Lin Xin’s eyes, and the gaze was the same as the one she had seen on their first meeting.

Yes, it was the same look of deep affection and obsession in Lin Xin’s eyes, and the same sense of anxiety that often appeared on her face.

Anxiety?

Cheng Shiyin quickly turned her head, realizing that Lin Xin had caught her looking. Lin Xin, too, had been caught looking at Cheng Shiyin.

They couldn’t let each other know their thoughts.

Both of them sat quietly, expressionless, eating the dumplings they had neglected for so long, pretending that the brief exchange of glances hadn’t happened, trying their best to calm their hearts, which were beating faster and more energetically than usual. If they had gone for a checkup at that moment, the doctor would have warned them about their accelerated heart rate.

The meal of dumplings passed in silence, marked only by Lin Xin letting out a loud burp with a distinct chive flavor.

The plates were empty, the dumplings gone, and their mouths were empty as well. There was no longer an excuse to continue the silence with the “eat in silence” rule. Lin Xin was the first to break it. He pointed to the TV and laughed, “Hahaha.”

Just by listening to the laughter, one could tell he was a skilled actor. His laughter was natural yet layered, with each “ha” more emotional than the previous one, the transition smooth, the progression logical.

Unfortunately, this was right at the emotional climax of the skit, where the actors on TV were crying in unison, making the atmosphere even more awkward. Luckily, Cheng Shiyin didn’t focus too much on the content of the skit. She chuckled along, managing to blend in and start the evening on a neutral note.

Cheng Shiyin and Lin Xin finally began to pay attention to the next segments of the Spring Festival Gala. As usual, Lin Xin kept up a running commentary, poking fun at everything, though this time, he’d forgotten about his phone and didn’t remember to update his Weibo. For Cheng Shiyin, it was just like when she’d been following Lin Xin’s private Weibo account—before she knew it, Lin Xin had her laughing uncontrollably, making her forget to maintain her usual composure.

They laughed, teased, and sneaked glances at each other, with the year almost at an end.

The TV was now playing the song “Unforgettable Tonight,” and the host was leading the nation in a countdown to the last five seconds of the year.

Five, four, three, two, one!

The sky exploded with countless fireworks, celebrating the arrival of the new year.

Lin Xin remembered the fireworks he had seen earlier at Wu Lian’s house, and how happy Cheng Shiyin had looked. He immediately ran to the window to pull back the curtains, hoping to share the “flowers” of the moment. But after waiting for a while, all he could hear were the sounds of fireworks from the TV. Then it hit him—due to environmental protection laws, fireworks and firecrackers were banned during the New Year. He couldn’t “borrow” those fireworks after all, and he slumped back onto the couch, feeling deflated.

Even though there were no fireworks, Cheng Shiyin still followed Lin Xin’s lead and looked out the window. Of course, all she saw in return was the pitch-black sky.

The dark sky felt like the best cinema, and it played for Cheng Shiyin a memory about fireworks, still revolving around her and him.

Every scene was so vivid in Cheng Shiyin’s memory: Lin Xin admiring the dazzling fireworks, Lin Xin holding up his phone to take pictures, Lin Xin’s eyes filled with love, and Lin Xin gazing at himself in the camera’s viewfinder.

The intense, genuine emotions she had felt with him—just thinking about them made Cheng Shiyin feel like she was right there again.

…Lin Xin… Lin Xin.

It dawned on Cheng Shiyin that, despite her love for the beauty of fireworks, she couldn’t recall any memories of them. She didn’t remember what color the fireworks had been, or what patterns they formed. The only thing clear in her memory was Lin Xin—clear and beautiful, more so than anything else in the world.

At last, she understood something: it wasn’t just Lin Xin who had been captivated from the start—it was herself too.

“I… can I kiss you?” Cheng Shiyin suddenly said.