“Hey, you were pretty close with her, right?” her co-star asks offhandedly.

“With who?” Fu Jing asks, not looking up from her phone.

“Wu Xuanyi.”

Fu Jing’s fingers go slack for a second, her phone almost slipping from them, before they tighten so forcefully she hears her phone case make a cracking sound. “Why are you bringing her up?”

“My agent is talking about having me audition for this drama where she’s going to play the female lead.” He smiles. “If I get the role, I’m going to be the envy of Rocket Girls fans – getting to star with two of them.” His smile fades when he registers Fu Jing’s expression. “Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah,” she says, forcing a smile. “It must be the heat.”

He tactfully doesn’t mention how it’s a balmy twenty degrees out right now. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry. You can just tell me to mind my own business.”

“No, it’s fine.” Fu Jing lowers her eyes. “Xuanyi is—she’s very hard-working and she always wants to push herself. But she’s funny and easy to get along with too. You won’t find a better co-star.”

“I don’t know, I recently worked with someone who set the bar pretty high.”

curves up a little.

“Yeah, Li Yitong is really great,” he says, ducking to the side to dodge Fu Jing’s elbow. “Really peaceful.” She scowls, and he grins. “I’ll go get us some water, since it’s so hot out right now. You want anything else?”

“No, I’m good, thanks.”

“I’ll be back in a bit.” His grin turns more playful. “Try not to miss me too much.”

“I don’t know if I’ll be able to survive these minutes of separation,” she deadpans, and he laughs before walking away.

He’s a good guy, and they had hit it off from pretty much their first script reading together. If things were different, she might even have thought they could make a good couple.

If things were different, Fu Jing muses wryly, but there’s no point in wandering down that train of thought. She always ends up back at the same place anyway. At the same person.

 

Was she close with Wu Xuanyi?

That’s a good question.

Fu Jing wants to say that they were as close as two people could get. She’s seen Xuanyi in everything from glittering stage outfits to soft flannel pyjamas to nothing at all. She’s had Xuanyi laughing in her ear, crying on her shoulder, in her arms. She’s had bleary conversations with her in the morning, cheerful chats with her in the afternoon, heartfelt talks with her at night. She’s loved her in a way that she didn’t think herself capable of and felt that same love reciprocated.

And in the end, it wasn’t enough.

Fu Jing only met Xuanyi when she was twenty-three, and yet she feels like she associates Xuanyi with youth, with summer, with the fierce, fiery beauty of things not built to last.

 

She wakes up to a string of WeChat messages from Chaoyue.

Hey, I’ll be in town for a few days filming. Let’s meet up. You feeling like hot pot?

Fu Jing smiles and types out a reply. I always feel like hot pot.

Okay, the usual place tonight at 8? I’ll book us a room.

Sounds great. See you then. She randomly sends a Sanmao sticker. It’s been so long since she’s used that sticker pack that she almost forgot it was on her phone.

Chaoyue sends a pig sticker back.

 

Fu Jing has been seeing Chaoyue styled glamorously on magazine covers and billboards a lot lately, and she feels like she’s stepped back into the past when she sees Chaoyue with her hair pulled back in a ponytail, bare-faced and dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans.

Chaoyue grins when she sees Fu Jing, and it really feels like no time has passed since that summer. Except that Chaoyue’s plain black T-shirt cost more than she had in her bank account back then.

“Laofu,” Chaoyue says, pulling Fu Jing into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“I’m surprised you have time to spare for me, Ms. Mega Movie Star,” Fu Jing teases.

Chaoyue makes a face. “Well, you know, I actually don’t like you that much but I don’t want to be accused of ditching my old friends and all that.”

Fu Jing smiles. “Is that how it is?”

“Yep,” Chaoyue says crisply. “And, speaking of old friends.” She pauses meaningfully, and Fu Jing just gives a blank look back. “Guess who I met up with the other day?”

“Uh, Yihan?”

Chaoyue frowns, like Fu Jing just disappointed her by saying one plus one equals three. “No. Well, yes, but that’s not what I was getting at.”

“Yang Chaoyue, your brain is beyond fathoming for me. I don’t know what the answer is supposed to be.”

“And you’re supposed to be my dad,” Chaoyue tsks. “What kind of father are you?”

Fu Jing’s smile freezes. “That was a long time ago.”

“Was it really?” Chaoyue asks with a piercing look.

Fu Jing doesn’t know how to answer. It feels like a lifetime ago and yet simultaneously it feels like yesterday. Like she might wake up in the middle of the night and reach for Xuanyi’s hand, or feel nervous before an upcoming performance and get a smile from Xuanyi that chased away the nerves in her stomach to replace them with butterflies.

“You probably still know how to dance to Produce 101,” Chaoyue adds.

Fu Jing thinks about it. “I think I probably can. And I don’t need to ask you whether you can,” she adds with a teasing smile.

“Hey, for your information, I’ve come a long way as a dancer.”

“It’s not hard to come a long way from where you started,” Fu Jing laughs.

Chaoyue scowls. “Don’t make me order the clear broth.”

Fu Jing holds up her hands as if in surrender. “Okay, okay, let’s not get into war here.” She smiles with a distinctly nostalgic edge. “Do you remember how when we fought back in the group, we’d end up tussling on the ground?”

“Hey, I’m ready to go now if you are,” Chaoyue says, holding her arms in a martial arts-like pose.

“You can’t handle me,” Fu Jing says. “I’ve been training hard for my wuxia dramas.”

“I’ve been training for my xianxia ones,” Chaoyue replies without missing a beat. “I’ll blast you into oblivion without getting out of this chair.”

Fu Jing bursts into laughter. “Chaoyue, I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too.” Chaoyue, being Chaoyue, rolls her eyes and sighs after saying it. “Did you really have to make me get all maudlin here? It’s not good for my image, you know.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, you’re talking about your image where people make meme sets out of you making your face look like Silly Putty?”

“You’re one to talk about meme sets!”

“True, I guess you got that from me.” Fu Jing grins. “There, that’s one thing I’ve passed onto you.”

“I don’t think you should be proud of that…” Chaoyue wrinkles her nose. “But hey, you never answered my question.”

“What question?” Fu Jing asks blankly.

Chaoyue sighs melodramatically – she definitely didn’t get that from Fu Jing – and then looks at Fu Jing expectantly. “Guess who I met up with the other day?”

There’s a feathery guess tickling the bottom of Fu Jing’s thoughts, but she doesn’t want to let it crystallize.

“You have like, a million friends, how could I guess?” she says, purposefully keeping her voice light.

Chaoyue just looks intently at her. “You know who I mean.”

Of course she does. Even if Chaoyue hadn’t meant her, chances are Fu Jing’s mind would have gone there anyway. Not that her mind has far to go.

“How is she?” Fu Jing asks quietly.

“Busy. As always.”

“Of course,” Fu Jing says with a faint smile. “She would keep working until she collapsed.”

“Like you wouldn’t?” Chaoyue asks with an arch of a brow.

Fu Jing chuckles. “Touché.”

Chaoyue stares at her with uncharacteristic seriousness. “Don’t you miss her?”

Fu Jing stares back with her best impassive actress face. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“You’ve gotten better at pretending you don’t care, but you’re not there yet.”

“I’ve always been terrible at pretending,” Fu Jing says, flicking up a corner of her menu with her nail. “I’m not trying to pretend here though. Why would I pretend I don’t miss her? You already know I do. It’d be an insult to your intelligence to pretend I don’t.”

“You don’t seem to have a problem with insulting my intelligence usually,” Chaoyue says wryly.

“I’m sorry, but you just give so much material to work with—” Fu Jing holds up her menu in front of her like a shield as Chaoyue looks like she’s going to throw something at her, but then Chaoyue just huffs and takes a dignified sip of water.

She sniffs. “I’m going to let that go because I’m a good person.”

“Yes, of course.”

“And,” Chaoyue continues, “because I’m a good person, I’m going to give you some advice.”

“Can I opt out?”

Chaoyue ignores her. “Look, I know I might be being too pushy or nosy or whatever, but you and Xuanyi are both very important to me and I don’t like seeing you miserable apart when you could be happy together. And, you know, you should think of me. Divorces really impact the children.”

Fu Jing’s face goes through a myriad of expressions and lands on speechless. She hasn’t seen Chaoyue in a couple of months and it seems that she’s forgotten how…Chaoyue she can be.

“Why do you assume we can be happy together?” she says slowly.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you assume we can be happy together when we didn’t work out last time? Plus,” she adds with a wry twist of her lips. “I don’t even know if Xuanyi still feels that way.”

“You’re right,” Chaoyue says. “I don’t know if she still feels that way. And I don’t know if you would be happy together. But how do you know if you don’t try?”

“I have tried, Chaoyue,” Fu Jing says tiredly. “A relationship is a two-way street. It can’t just be me fighting for us all the time.”

“Then let her go,” Chaoyue says. “If you really don’t think there’s a chance, let her go.”

Let her go? Fu Jing wants to snort. Does Chaoyue think she hasn’t tried? Why doesn’t Chaoyue tell her to let her love for singing and dancing and hot pot go while she’s at it?

“Sometimes I think I should,” Fu Jing admits in a low voice, “and I’ve tried and tried but. I can’t.”

Chaoyue is silent for so long Fu Jing almost gets worried. “What if she meets someone else?” she finally asks.

Like she hasn’t thought of that? Sometimes, she almost wishes that Xuanyi would, in the hopes that it would help her finally let Xuanyi go. Other times, she shudders even at the thought of it, her stomach twisting and her heart faring worse.

Fu Jing gives a mirthless smile. “Then we might be meeting up for drinks only.”

 

“What do you think?” Chaoyue asks her. “It’ll be the three of us, just like old times.”

Fu Jing thinks it sounds like an absolutely terrible idea. Her mind is telling her to refuse, to not even consider it, but her heart… Well, it’s always excelled at making things difficult for her.

“Just like old times, huh,” she says with a twitch of her lips.

“Well, except for being crammed into one room together and having to wake up at ungodly hours to dance,” Chaoyue says, shuddering at the trauma.

“I didn’t mind the dancing,” Fu Jing says. “Or the singing, or the actual performing part. It was everything else that was harder.”

“You always wanted this. You were born for the stage. You and Xuanyi both.”

“Xuanyi was always a better idol than me,” Fu Jing says with both sincerity and ruefulness. Maybe if Xuanyi were worse at being an idol or Fu Jing better at it, they wouldn’t be in this position. “You too,” she adds. “You’ve always had a knack for variety.”

“People just find my dumbness entertaining,” Chaoyue says with a shrug.

“It is entertaining.”

“You’re pretty entertaining yourself, Laofu.” Chaoyue pats her shoulder. “Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Thanks,” Fu Jing says dryly. “That means a lot coming from you.”

Chaoyue beams. “So, come on, how about it? When are we going to get another chance like this? You know, I turned down a commercial to make some time for you guys. I should be billing you what I could have earned from that.”

“I don’t know if I can afford your time, Ms. Yang.” Fu Jing tells herself it’s just Chaoyue’s pleading expression that sways her, but she knows better.

 

Fu Jing tells herself the whole way to the restaurant that she’s going to be collected, and composed, and—normal. That’s right, normal. She’s just going to meet up with two friends, that’s all. This is a totally normal occurrence.

When she reaches the restaurant, she gives Chaoyue’s name and is led to a private room. There’s already someone there, and it’s not Chaoyue.

Fu Jing’s breathing stutters at the sight of her. All thoughts of feigning composure and normalcy go flying out the window.

Xuanyi smiles, and a familiar ache seizes Fu Jing’s chest. She looks tired, Fu Jing thinks. Her face has lost some of its softness, cheekbones and jawline sharp, and there are dark circles under her eyes her makeup can’t hide. But still, she looks beautiful. So beautiful.

Xuanyi’s smile falters. “Fu Jing?”

“Xuanyi,” she murmurs. Then she realizes she’s staring and jerks her eyes away. “Long time no see.”

“Yes.” Xuanyi pauses. “How have you been?”

“Busy, you know,” Fu Jing gives her standard reply.

“Mm. I saw your latest drama. It was really good.”

“Thanks, you too. I mean, for yours.” Fu Jing almost cringes at how rehearsed they sound, even if she means it. She really did enjoy Xuanyi’s latest drama, a xianxia one where she played a fox spirit. “And you just filmed a movie, right?”

Xuanyi nods. “Yeah, filming actually just wrapped up yesterday, so I have a day off before my next big schedule.”

“And you decided to spend it here?”

“Well,” Xuanyi says with a small smile. “There’s someone I wanted to see.”

Oh, Fu Jing’s heart says, and swoops.

 

“You look nice,” Xuanyi says, taking another sip of wine. Fu Jing has had too much herself already. She knows it’s a bad idea, especially since she’s drinking on an empty stomach, but she’s already in the middle of a terrible idea and needs some alcohol in her system.

Fu Jing snorts. “Be honest, you hate this outfit.”

“I don’t hate it.” Xuanyi wrinkles her nose. “I just think you could pull off something much nicer.”

“Yeah, like what?”

“Like that white dress you wore for that Vogue photoshoot,” she says readily, “or the red one for the Bazaar one.”

“Yeah, maybe if we were attending a ball or something.”

Xuanyi smiles. “What should I wear to the ball?”

“You—” Fu Jing imagines Xuanyi in about ten different outfits, some of which are definitely not appropriate for a public occasion. “You could wear anything you wanted. I’m sure you’d steal the show.”

Xuanyi ducks her head, and Fu Jing’s chest constricts. “Jingjing,” she suddenly says, and Fu Jing feels like a hand wraps around her heart.

“Mm?” is the only sound she can manage.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me today.”

“You’re welcome?”

“I know I’ve been…bad at staying in touch. But it’s not because I don’t care.” Xuanyi looks at her imploringly.

“I know,” Fu Jing whispers.

“Okay.” Xuanyi exhales. “I’m glad you do.” She gives a tentative smile. “Are you hungry? Do you want to order something?”

“Should we wait for Chaoyue?”

“Didn’t she message you? She said she was running late and we should just eat without her.”

“Oh, okay,” Fu Jing says. “Hey, let’s order her favourite dishes and eat most of them and just leave scraps for her.”

Xuanyi laughs. “I see you’re as kind and caring towards Chaoyue as always.”

“Of course,” Fu Jing says. “I’m the epitome of kind and caring. Don’t you know that?”

“I do,” Xuanyi says softly, holding her gaze, and Fu Jing blames her flushed cheeks on the wine.

 

“Did you arrange to meet up with anyone else while you’re in town?” Fu Jing asks in what she hopes is a casual voice.

“Well, I saw Meiqi the other day, but that was at a Yuehua event. And I’m having dinner with Xiaoqi next week.”

“Oh,” Fu Jing says, wondering if their dinner is just like any of the other meet-ups to Xuanyi.

“How about you? Chaoyue says she hasn’t seen you in a while.”

“I guess it has been a while, but it doesn’t feel like it.” Fu Jing smiles slightly. “Whenever we catch up, it feels like…”

“No time has passed?” Xuanyi supplies.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“I’m glad it’s like that for you guys.”

Fu Jing frowns, catching something in Xuanyi’s voice, subtle as it is. “It’s not like that for you?” she asks lightly.

“Oh, it is. Chaoyue has a gift for making things not awkward, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, she definitely didn’t get that from me,” Fu Jing chuckles.

Xuanyi looks at her uncomprehendingly for a moment and then smiles. “I think she got more from you than from me.”

“She got her fearlessness from you. Remember when she caught a mouse in our dorm and went around showing everyone?”

Xuanyi wrinkles her nose. “Do you really have to bring that up while we’re eating?”

“Sorry,” Fu Jing laughs, picking up a piece of meat, dipping it in sesame sauce and then hoisin sauce in quick succession and putting it on Xuanyi’s plate. “Here.”

Xuanyi just stares at her. Fu Jing falters. “What is it? You don’t like eating hot pot like this anymore?”

“No, it’s not that,” Xuanyi says quickly. “It’s just. You remember.” Her eyes look very bright, but it’s probably just the lighting.

Of course, Fu Jing thinks. I remember everything about you. But she just says, “Eat up. And don’t think of mice.”

Xuanyi puts her chopsticks down. “Thanks a lot. I’m so hungry now.”

“No problem.” Fu Jing grins, and when she reaches for the chili oil, Xuanyi snatches it out from underneath her fingers. Fu Jing raises an eyebrow, and Xuanyi sticks out her tongue, unrepentantly childish.

Fu Jing presses her lips together to hold back her smile. She knows it’s dangerous, but she can’t help thinking about how it’s almost like old times. Xuanyi is here in front of her, sitting close enough to touch, smiling at her and teasing her and looking at her in a way that still makes her heart stir. She almost feels like they’ll return to their dorm together after, maybe get a milk tea on the way and walk with looped arms and matched footsteps.

“Fu Jing?” Xuanyi asks hesitantly, and it stings a little because she had been expecting a different name. “Is something wrong?”

Fu Jing panics that her eyes have teared up, but she blinks and finds them mercifully dry. “It’s nothing,” she says. “I just—how am I supposed to eat without chili oil?”

“This might shock you, but it’s already really spicy.”

“Oh, you weak Hainan person,” Fu Jing tsks. “I have to take your fairy title away if you can’t even handle a little extra spice.”

Xuanyi’s mouth quirks up. “Is that the criteria now?”

Fu Jing nods solemnly.

“It’s good to know you still live up to your title of Childish Brat,” Xuanyi says with a sparkle in her eyes.

“Hey, me as the childish brat? Who was the one stealing the chili oil and sticking out her tongue?”

As if to prove Fu Jing’s point, Xuanyi sticks out her tongue again. Fu Jing tries not to smile but fails. She should have known that when it comes to Xuanyi, resistance is futile.

 

Fu Jing feels hot, and she doesn’t know if it’s from the hot pot or the wine or Xuanyi’s gaze. Maybe all three, but if she has to admit it, she knows it’s mostly from the last one. Xuanyi has had at least as much to drink as her, if not more, but she shows no indication of it.

“Chaoyue’s not coming, is she?” Fu Jing says.

“I don’t think so,” Xuanyi says mildly.

Was she ever going to come? Was this a setup from the start? Fu Jing wants to ask, but she holds her tongue. Instead, she looks at the impressive number of empty dishes in front of them and says, “Well, I think we ate her share of food.”

“Would you have come if you knew it was just going to be the two of us?” Xuanyi suddenly asks.

Fu Jing has no idea how to answer that. Her immediate response is no, but with Xuanyi looking at her, intent and intense, it’s like that word has left her vocabulary. “I don’t know. Why didn’t you ask me yourself?”

“Would that have made a difference?”

Fu Jing suddenly gets a little angry. “Why are you asking me all these hypothetical questions? What am I supposed to say? I don’t know what would have happened. I just know what did and didn’t.” It’s not intentional, per se, but the words come out of heavily, weighed down with another meaning.

Xuanyi lowers her eyes, lashes covering them and lips pressing together, and Fu Jing feels her heart lurch with guilt and something else.

Then Xuanyi looks up, her expression composed. “We didn’t do so great at the whole staying friends thing, did we?” she says with a wry smile.

“No,” Fu Jing says, returning the expression. “We didn’t.”

“Do you…want to try harder this time?” Xuanyi asks hesitantly.

“No,” Fu Jing finds herself saying. Xuanyi looks—devastated, but the expression disappears so quickly she questions if she really saw it. “I don’t want to be your friend. Well, I don’t just want to be your friend.”

“Just?” Xuanyi repeats slowly.

Screw it, Fu Jing thinks. Chaoyue was right. Maybe this won’t work out, but how does she know if she doesn’t try?

“You know my co-star from my latest drama? We had great chemistry, and he ticks off all the boxes I wanted in a boyfriend. He seemed interested and I thought, why not give it a try? Maybe we could be happy.” She sees the twitch of a muscle in Xuanyi’s cheek and the slightest hint of a quiver in her jaw, and those tiny movements might as well be screaming out her unhappiness. Fu Jing can’t help a flutter of pleasure at the reaction, but she moves on quickly. “But then I realized I couldn’t imagine being with him. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone but you.”

Xuanyi just stares at her, her eyes fathomless and unfathomable. Fu Jing’s impassive actress face has nothing on hers. And then Xuanyi speaks.

“Do you know why I couldn’t stay friends with you after the breakup? Because it would have been part of letting go, and as hard as I tried, I could never let you go.”

Fu Jing’s mouth goes dry. “You—?”

“I told you, right? I’m still here, I’ll always be here.” Just like that night, Fu Jing’s eyes start to fill with tears.

And, just like that night, Xuanyi holds open her arms and Fu Jing steps into them, feeling them come around her, feeling warm, safe, loved.

 

“You’re so thin,” Xuanyi murmurs, fingers brushing over Fu Jing’s ribs. Fu Jing squirms, ticklish, but doesn’t try to move away.

“You know how it is, with filming.”

Xuanyi pouts a little. “No matter how much weight I lose, I never get abs like yours.”

“You know, there’s this thing called working out—” Fu Jing says with a quirk of , ducking from Xuanyi’s fingers reaching to tickle on purpose this time.

“Oh really,” Xuanyi says wryly. “I’ve never heard of that before. Tell me more.”

Fu Jing’s eyes glint. “There’s a particular kind of exercise I’m fond of,” she says, whispering something into Xuanyi’s ear.

Xuanyi’s face goes red all the way to her neck, but there’s nothing shy about the way she kisses Fu Jing and climbs over her.

 

“Xuanyi,” Fu Jing whimpers as Xuanyi touches her everywhere except where she most needs her.

“You’re not allowed to be with your co-star. You’re not allowed to be with anyone but me. You’re mine.” Xuanyi punctuates the word with a particularly vicious to Fu Jing’s neck, like she wants to leave a bite mark behind, stake her claim.

“Yours,” Fu Jing agrees breathily, and Xuanyi smiles as her before finally giving her what she wants. Fu Jing arches and her fingers tighten in Xuanyi’s hair, probably to the point of pain, but Xuanyi doesn’t seem to mind. A jumbled sound leaves , something between Xuanyi and please.

Xuanyi looks at her with dark, blazing eyes and then kisses her, so sweet and gentle it makes Fu Jing’s head swim. She almost feels like it’s a dream; it wouldn’t be the first one or even the fiftieth one, and if it is a dream she prays it won’t end.

“Jingjing,” Xuanyi says, her tongue curling around the name like a caress. “My Jingjing.”

“Xiaoxuan,” Fu Jing murmurs, and Xuanyi’s face crumples.

“What is it?” she asks, alarmed, as Xuanyi stops and buries her face against Fu Jing’s neck.

“Nobody’s called me that since—” Xuanyi’s voice breaks. Fu Jing her hair, wordless and soothing.

“Would you prefer Laoxuan?” she asks after a moment.

Xuanyi just stares at her for a moment, and then she breaks into the soft, sweet smile that brings Fu Jing back to that summer.

“Laofu and Laoxuan,” she murmurs. “That sounds good to me.”

Fu Jing grins. “Me too,” she says, pulling Xuanyi into another kiss. They do nothing but kiss for a while, not like it’s the prelude to something else but just enjoying it, savouring it, reacquainting themselves with the taste of each other.

At one point, Xuanyi says “Mine” again, with childish possessiveness and adult longing.

“And you’re mine,” Fu Jing murmurs.

Xuanyi smiles. “I’ve always been yours.”

Fu Jing feels something swell in her chest at the words, like a tidal wave breaking down a dam she didn’t even know was there, but healing rather than destructive.

“Say that again,” she whispers.

Xuanyi’s eyes soften. “I’ve always been yours,” she repeats, bringing her hand to Fu Jing’s cheek and sweeping her thumb over Fu Jing’s cheekbone, slow and tender.

Fu Jing puts her hand over Xuanyi’s, clasping it there for a moment, and then brings it to where it had been a few minutes ago. Xuanyi’s eyes darken.

“Show me,” Fu Jing says, and Xuanyi doesn’t need to be asked twice.

 

Fu Jing wakes up feeling sore all over. She groans and turns her head and almost jumps as she sees Xuanyi staring at her.

“Good morning,” Xuanyi says.

“Morning?” It comes out like a question. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten thirty.”

“Wow. I can’t believe I slept that late.” Fu Jing yawns and rubs her eyes.

“We were up pretty late,” Xuanyi says. She looks—apologetic? Guilty? Fu Jing doesn’t know why she has that expression. Just as she’s about to ask, Xuanyi blushes. “I’m sorry I was kind of…rough last night.”

Fu Jing looks at her and the uneasy way she has her fingers wrung together, like a schoolgirl awaiting punishment, and has to laugh.

Xuanyi looks at her with a pout. “What?”

“Nothing,” Fu Jing says, and then, “I forgot how possessive you get.”

Xuanyi’s blush gets darker. “I’m sorry,” she says, but Fu Jing can tell she isn’t, really.

“I mean, they call you Hainan Vinegar Queen^[1] for a reason.”

“I guess you’re soaking in that vinegar.”

Fu Jing tilts her head to the side. “So what, have I turned from a grape into a raisin^[2]?”

Xuanyi looks at her with a complicated expression, like her face doesn’t know which one to settle on, and then she gives a smile that still makes Fu Jing’s heart feel like it unhitches from her chest. She thinks that she should have built a tolerance to it by now, but then again, such a sight is not something that you can get used to.

“I don’t think vinegar turns grapes into raisins,” Xuanyi says thoughtfully, “but sure, you can be a raisin. My raisin.”

“Your raisin,” Fu Jing agrees, and leans in to kiss her.

---

A/N: Being jealous is 吃醋, or literally “eat vinegar,” in Chinese. One of Xuanyi’s nicknames among FuXuan fans is 海南醋王 (Hainan Vinegar Queen) because she gets jealous easily over Fu Jing.

[1] Here's a scene I wrote quite early on but couldn't incorporate into the fic:

[2] This is a reference to Xuanyi saying Fu Jing is like a purple grape.

Deleted Scene:

“Chaoyue was campaigning really hard to get us back together.”

Xuanyi smiles. “Is that so?”

“Yeah, she said divorces really impact the children.”

“She’s right,” Xuanyi says seriously. “We have to think about Chaoyue here. We can’t have her ending up with more problems than she already has.”

Fu Jing can already imagine Chaoyue’s face if she heard that.