For her eighteenth birthday, which was very important, Lin He had originally wanted to make special arrangements for her.

But because of her promise with Chi Yao, Lin Zhexia politely declined Lin He the day before her birthday: “It’s enough if you celebrate with me in the morning. I’m going out to celebrate with friends in the afternoon.”

Lin He didn’t mind, just pretended to say: “You’ve really grown up. When you were little, you would cling to me, asking for birthday celebrations, but now you want to celebrate with your friends.”

“That’s not it,” Lin Zhexia said, “it’s just that I made plans with friends, but I want to celebrate with you all.”

Wei Ping asked: “How many friends? Don’t stay out too late.”

It was just Chi Yao alone.

But Lin Zhexia still said: “Three or four, I guess.”

After saying this, she didn’t even know why she was lying about this.

Ever since she started liking Chi Yao.

She subconsciously felt that going out with Chi Yao privately seemed to be a “bad” thing.

But compared to her birthday, she was more concerned about Chi Yao’s family situation. Although she and Chi Yao hadn’t talked much about it that day, she had a vague premonition. She found it hard to describe, only knowing that between her and Chi Yao, there was a very peculiar connection.

That night, Lin Zhexia couldn’t fall asleep.

With that premonition, she couldn’t help wondering if Chi Yao’s family issues could be resolved smoothly.

Most likely not.

Chi Yao’s family was in business, and since those people had come looking for them, it couldn’t be a small matter.

She recalled the words “pay back” from the phone call.

It must be about money.

If they needed to raise money, they might sell their house, and if they sold their house…

Lin Zhexia dared not think further.

Before today, she had never thought that worse than her one-sided, somewhat out-of-control relationship with Chi Yao was the possibility that they might end up having no relationship at all.

Before turning eighteen, she and Chi Yao had been inseparable.

To the extent that she almost forgot that, apart from living close to each other and growing up together, they had no substantial relationship.

They were childhood friends, like siblings, like friends.

But friends can also part ways.

If not now, then perhaps later. Later, if they didn’t attend the same university, when she and Chi Yao would pursue different careers, later, when Chi Yao might meet a girl he liked.

Besides these, there were countless more “laters.”

After turning eighteen, when a broader world unfolds, they would eventually begin life journeys that had little to do with each other.

“Xiaxia, why is your light still on?” Lin He asked outside the door, “Haven’t you gone to sleep yet?”

Lin Zhexia hurriedly raised her hand to turn off the light, and the room immediately darkened.

“I’m sleeping,” her voice was a little hoarse, “I just forgot to turn it off. Good night, Mom.”

Lin Zhexia felt like crying a little.

But this feeling didn’t seem to be entirely sadness.

She lay in bed, closed her eyes, and when she opened them again the next day, she officially welcomed her eighteenth birthday—

Early in the morning, Wei Ping made her a bowl of noodles and presented his carefully prepared gift: “My gift this time is cool.”

Lin Zhexia opened the packaging, and what lay inside was no longer pink, a fluffy ornament.

It was a pair of sunglasses.

Wei Ping gave her a detailed introduction: “There’s a button here. Press it, and it lights up. Have you watched Detective Conan? If you like, you can also imitate Conan’s gesture, and then it will light up.”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

After a moment, she said: “Really cool, thank you, Uncle. I like it very much.”

Lin He’s gift was much more normal, giving her a set of practical skincare products.

“An eighteen-year-old young lady,” she smiled and said, “Happy birthday. Alright, finish your breakfast and get ready, then go meet your friends later.”

Lin Zhexia said “thank you” again, and after breakfast, she returned to her room and carefully picked out clothes.

Because the person she was going to meet was Chi Yao, when she changed and looked in the mirror, she found she had unconsciously chosen a long white dress.

Wearing such a formal dress… wouldn’t it be too deliberate?

Lin Zhexia looked at herself in the mirror, struggling internally for a long time, but eventually changed out of the dress and dressed as usual, wearing a T-shirt. However, when matching her clothes, she still couldn’t help but put a little thought into it, pairing the T-shirt with a denim pleated skirt.

…

Anyway, this skirt looked pretty casual too.

She felt like she was secretly dating Chi Yao.

Before leaving, she sent a message to Chi Yao: Wait for me at the entrance of the residential area later.

Thinking about it, she felt this message wasn’t precise enough—

No, walk a bit further away—

Why don’t we meet at the lakeside

Chi Yao replied quickly—

Are you treating this like an underground rendezvous?

Lin Zhexia: …—

I’m downstairs—

Come down when you’re ready

Lin Zhexia took a deep breath, then said to Lin He and Wei Ping: “I’m heading out!”

After going downstairs, she discovered that Chi Yao was also dressed formally. He wasn’t wearing his usual ordinary T-shirts but had changed into a crisp white shirt with the top two buttons undone. Only the ripped jeans he paired with it made the entire outfit look clean yet carefree.

Lin Zhexia jogged over to him: “Where are you taking me?”

Chi Yao didn’t speak but instead looked at her first.

Lin Zhexia was wearing a short skirt today, the girl’s slender, straight legs exposed, white socks bunched at her ankles. Her face was free of makeup, her hair loose, looking exceptionally docile.

His throat moved slightly as he shifted his gaze, and after a while said: “You’ll know when we get there.”

Lin Zhexia made an “oh” sound and followed behind Chi Yao. The two went to the bus station and boarded a long-distance coach.

She sat with Chi Yao in the back row, feeling like what started as a “date” had suddenly jumped to “elopement.” She didn’t know why she felt nervous and asked: “Is the place far away?”

Chi Yao: “It’s okay, a little over an hour to get there.”

He added, “Sleep for a while and we’ll be there.”

Lin Zhexia: “I just woke up, how could I possibly fall asleep? I’m not a pig.”

Chi Yao knew her too well, so he didn’t believe her at all: “Alright, don’t sleep then.”

After a while.

Lin Zhexia suddenly called out to him: “Chi Yao.”

“You’re not planning to… traffic me, are you?”

“…”

“I’ve arranged it with the butchers,” Chi Yao said, leaning back, “taking you over today to see how much someone like you would fetch.”

“…” Lin Zhexia didn’t rebuke him, just mumbled, “You’re the pig.”

After a while, more people boarded the bus.

The inside of the bus grew noisy.

Chi Yao took out a pair of earphones, and before putting them on, first offered her one: “Want one?”

Lin Zhexia accepted.

She put the earphones in her ears, two long cords, the other end connected to Chi Yao.

She folded her hands, placing them somewhat nervously on her skirt.

Despite saying “how could I possibly fall asleep after just waking up?” in less than half an hour, Lin Zhexia fell asleep listening to the soothing music in her earphones amid the slight bumps of the bus.

In her hazy state, she felt her head knock against something very hard.

But just as she was feeling the pain, before she could wake up, something warm, gentle, but firm cupped her head, and then she seemed to fall into a sea of clouds in her dream.

When she woke up again, she found her head resting on Chi Yao’s shoulder.

The distance between them was very close.

She looked up and could see the young man’s neck and jaw.

After a while, she heard Chi Yao’s voice: “And you said you weren’t a pig.”

“…”

Lin Zhexia sat up straight: “…How did I end up leaning on you?”

Chi Yao glanced at her, then said indifferently: “You leaned over yourself.”

Lin Zhexia made an embarrassed “oh” sound.

The bus had been bumpy earlier.

And since she had fallen asleep, it was normal for her head to tilt a bit.

The coach soon reached its destination. Looking through the window, Lin Zhexia discovered that they had left Cheng’an District and arrived at the edge of Lianyun City, a remote but beautiful place.

She had some impression of this place because Lin He and Wei Ping had mentioned it when planning outings before, saying it was a tourist attraction. Several times, Wei Ping had planned to bring them here to play, but never had the chance.

Lin Zhexia got off the bus and found that the destination was called “Luo Mountain Botanical Garden.”

“So this is your birthday gift to me, bringing me to experience nature.” Lin Zhexia was a bit surprised. After all, coming to such a place was like a school spring outing. “I appreciate your good intentions.”

But Chi Yao didn’t say much: “Your gift hasn’t reached its time yet.”

“Time?”

Lin Zhexia thought touring the botanical garden was the birthday gift, but Chi Yao’s words left her confused: “What gift? Why is there a time stipulation? Can’t I have it before the time comes?”

Chi Yao didn’t talk much with her, just led her to check their tickets and enter.

The afternoon sun was blazing, and the botanical garden was huge, so large it seemed impossible to tour it completely in a day.

From the entrance, the entire path was filled with large patches of hydrangeas. Next to the blue-purple hydrangeas stood a plaque with an introduction, with three characters on it: “Endless Summer.”

Although this activity felt like a spring outing, Lin Zhexia still enjoyed the tour thoroughly because all the plants and blooming flowers here represented “summer.”

The garden was full of plants that only bloomed in summer.

When Lin Zhexia squatted down to look closely at the patch of hydrangeas, she sensed a certain gaze. She turned her head sharply and saw Chi Yao taking photos with his phone.

“What are you photographing?”

Chi Yao lowered his phone: “Scenery.”

Lin Zhexia was afraid he might include her in the photos, and possibly make her look ugly, so she anxiously said: “I don’t believe you. You’re standing so far away, you must be capturing a lot in your frame. Let me see if you’ve taken ugly photos of me.”

Chi Yao, just like that time on the sofa, raised his phone high: “Come get it yourself.”

Lin Zhexia tried hard to reach for it while standing on her tiptoes beside him.

Because there were many other tourists behind them, and they couldn’t just stand in one place, she moved and jumped at the same time. If she had a pair of rabbit ears on her head, she would truly be a rabbit.

Fortunately, she was forgetful. Upon seeing the next interesting thing, she forgot about being photographed earlier.

Ahead was a very tall ancient tree, similar to what she had seen in the temple before, but probably of a different species. Most importantly, the tree was covered with red wishing ribbons.

These wishing ribbons had dyed the entire tree red, a sea of red, passionate and bold, hanging countless people’s wishes.

Perhaps, many of the wishes hung here from years ago had already silently come true.

A thought vaguely emerged in Lin Zhexia’s mind.

Before she could think it through, in the next second, that thought came true.

Chi Yao scanned a code up ahead, took two red wishing ribbons, and walked toward her: “Come here.”

“Make a wish.”

Lin Zhexia was stunned for a moment.

Chi Yao said again: “Your birthday wish.”

This eighteenth year, both she and Chi Yao had unique ways of making birthday wishes. Chi Yao had made his wish in the pouring rain to a candle, and she… she looked up at this ancient tree, seeing the passionate sunlight and red all around.

Her eighteenth birthday wish would forever hang in this passionate summer.

Since wishes shouldn’t be seen by others, Lin Zhexia deliberately kept a distance from Chi Yao while writing her wishing ribbon.

Holding the pen, she thought for a long time, finally looked around, and secretly wrote two characters: Chi Yao.

Each stroke.

Written very carefully.

Even though she knew she was wishing for something that could never come true in this lifetime.

Every year on her birthday, she would make many wishes.

When she was little, she wished to grow taller the next year, to become taller than Chi Yao.

Discovering that growing taller was hopeless, the second year she changed her wish: I hope to do better than Chi Yao in the final exams, so he won’t be able to call me an idiot anymore.

Of course, this wish didn’t come true either.

…

And like these, many, many more wishes that came to nothing.

Anyway, birthday wishes usually ended without an ending.

So her wish this year, writing these two characters, should be fine.

After all, hanging these two characters here, mixing them among countless wishing ribbons, occasionally glimpsed by passing tourists—this was the only way her feelings for Chi Yao could be known to outsiders.

“Done.” Lin Zhexia capped the pen.

Then she hid the wishing ribbon behind her back, afraid that Chi Yao might see it.

To divert attention, she coughed once and said: “What did you write?”

But Chi Yao discreetly held onto his wishing ribbon, covering the part where he had written: “Want to see?”

Lin Zhexia nodded.

Chi Yao tugged at the corner of his mouth: “Not showing you.”

“…”

“It’s my birthday today,” Lin Zhexia said, “I should be the boss for a day.”

Chi Yao thought for a moment, seeming to agree with her request: “Then ask again.”

Lin Zhexia: “What did you write? Let me see.”

Chi Yao answered again: “Boss, not showing you.”

Lin Zhexia: “…”

Was this what she meant by being the boss?

Was it to add “Boss” before the words “not showing you”?

Chi Yao turned the conversation back to her, his gaze sweeping over the wishing ribbon in her hand a few times, and asked: “What did you write?”

…

Lin Zhexia decided to end the topic: “I think we shouldn’t be too curious about each other’s wishes.”

Having said that, she walked around him and found a very inconspicuous corner to hang her wishing ribbon.

Chi Yao asked her from across: “Can you reach it?”

Lin Zhexia stood on her tiptoes, afraid he would come over to help her hang it, hurriedly hung the wishing ribbon behind someone else’s, ensuring it was completely hidden: “Of course I can reach it.”

The two of them toured the botanical garden for half a day, and soon the sky darkened. Small lights lit up at the place where they had hung the wishing ribbons earlier.

Lin Zhexia remembered that when Chi Yao brought her into the garden, he mentioned a “gift,” and she couldn’t help asking: “Where’s my gift? Don’t tell me it’s just the wishing ribbon? But wishing ribbons don’t need time constraints, you can go hang them anytime…”

As she was speaking, she realized that Chi Yao was now leading her down a path where no one was passing.

Unlike the other stone-paved paths in the botanical garden, that deep path looked very secretive, without a single pedestrian, like some dangerous and mysterious entrance.

Lin Zhexia was about to say “You’re not really going to sell me, are you?” but before the words left her mouth, Chi Yao, walking ahead, afraid she might get lost, reached back with one hand for her.

Lin Zhexia hesitated for a moment, but finally gently grabbed his sleeve.

Then, as if sleepwalking, she was led by the young man in front of her down this small path.

Suddenly, the view before her became expansive.

Passing through this small path, inside was a large patch of forest hidden in the depths of the botanical garden. The towering forest was surrounded by bushes, looking like a small woodland. At the moment Chi Yao led her to break in, the darkness was dispelled by countless twinkling lights, and the entire “forest” suddenly lit up, thousands upon thousands of fireflies hovering in the low air around them.

Like a sea formed by fireflies.

A grand sea of fireflies on a midsummer night.

Lin Zhexia felt like she was in a place surrounded by starlight, and the entire world was illuminated at this moment.

In this “star sea,” Chi Yao spoke to her with a rare gentleness: “Happy birthday.”

Lin Zhexia felt that throughout this entire day, Chi Yao had led her to collect all the beautiful things belonging to summer.

This birthday gift far exceeded her previous imagination.

“Thank you,” she said, “how did you think of bringing me here?”

“Did some research.”

Chi Yao added, “And asked Xu Ting, he said he had been here before.”

Lin Zhexia made an “oh” sound: “This place is really beautiful.”

Then the two stood quietly in this sea of luminescence.

The whole world became very quiet, so quiet that Lin Zhexia vaguely felt something else was about to happen.

That peculiar premonition between her and Chi Yao made a comeback at this moment.

Just as Chi Yao was about to say something, Lin Zhexia, standing in this sea of light, interrupted him: “Chi Yao.”

She looked at him and asked very seriously: “Are you leaving?”

“Are you going to Jing City,” once this topic was broached, the following words became much easier to say, “…to be with Uncle and Auntie?”

Chi Yao was also looking down at her.

It felt like a long, long time had passed, and then she heard Chi Yao make an “mm” sound.

So this is what eighteen means.

She and Chi Yao couldn’t possibly continue living like this forever and ever.

The fork in the path of fate had imperceptibly reached the time for separation.

Chi Yao originally didn’t know how to tell her. In his imagination, Lin Zhexia might cry, might ask him not to leave, crying like she did when she went to the girls’ school in middle school.

After all, this little coward feared separation the most.

But what he hadn’t expected was Lin Zhexia’s calm demeanor.

She even displayed a somewhat immature resilience.

“I guessed it,” Lin Zhexia told him, “am I not smart?”

Chi Yao made another “mm” sound, speaking with unusual gentleness: “You’re the smartest little coward in the whole world.”

“I’m not a coward anymore.”

She hadn’t been for a long time.

And it was because of him that she had become brave.

She just never imagined that the brave Lin Zhexia would face this day of bravely saying goodbye to Chi Yao.

“There were some capital chain issues in Jing City, planning to sell the house first,” Chi Yao explained simply, “my mom is in the hospital, having surgery next month, I need to go take care of her.”

“Auntie is sick? Is it serious?” she asked.

“The surgery has some risks,” Chi Yao said, “it’s uncertain for now.”

“…”

In the face of these things, any more words seemed powerless. Lin Zhexia said softly: “Hope everything will be fine. Auntie seems like the type of person who would live to a hundred and still intimidate other old ladies with her aura.”

Lin Zhexia had initially wanted to say that she had saved some New Year’s money.

And if needed, Lin He and Wei Ping would be willing to help them.

…

But she knew Chi Yao too well.

This person was too proud, probably wouldn’t accept such “help.”

“When are you leaving? I’ll come to see you off.”

Lin Zhexia finally said: “But don’t think that just because you’re leaving, you can neglect me, your best friend.”

“I’ll still message you, I’ll send you many, many, many messages.”

“You have to remember to reply to my messages.”

Lin Zhexia was truly not sad at first, but somehow, when she reached this point, she belatedly felt a slight ache in her nose: “If you don’t reply to my messages, then I, I… never mind, you’ll be too far away for me to hit you.”

But Chi Yao said, “I won’t.”

“Won’t what?”

“Won’t reply to your messages.”

“Will you send me more messages, too?” Lin Zhexia asked again.

“How many is more?”

“Maybe hundreds a day, anyway, more than I send.”

“Do I look that free to you?”

“Then fifty.”

“…”

“Ten,” Lin Zhexia finally said, “ten should be okay, right? Morning, noon, and good night already take up three.”

Chi Yao glanced at her: “So, I have to greet you every day?”

“Greet the boss,” Lin Zhexia spoke slowly, “…isn’t that normal?”

The two children discussed how many messages they should send each other daily.

In the end, Chi Yao didn’t say exactly how many he would send, and the topic quickly passed.

There was an inexplicable silence between them again for a moment.

Lin Zhexia couldn’t help calling out to him: “Chi Yao.”

“You… you won’t date, right?”

Reason told her she shouldn’t raise such a dangerous question, shouldn’t lead the topic in that direction.

But she couldn’t control herself.

Jing City was so far away, he would transfer to a new school, meet new people.

After separating from Chi Yao, in places she couldn’t see, ten thousand possibilities could happen to him.

Among these ten thousand possibilities, would there be one where he might meet someone he liked?

“What I mean is, senior year is still very important. If you go to Jing City, you’d better not spend your mind on miscellaneous things,” Lin Zhexia spoke with private intentions, so she became increasingly uncertain, her voice getting smaller and smaller, “…so, you should focus on studying, studying is the most important thing.”

“If you date…”

Lin Zhexia’s words stopped abruptly at this point.

If he dates, then what?

Whether Chi Yao dates or not, what position did she have to interfere?

After her words stopped abruptly, Chi Yao suddenly asked: “What about you?”

When the young man spoke, his voice darkened along with the light in his eyes, his pupils deepened, and her answer seemed extremely important to him: “Will you date?”

“Of course I won’t,” Lin Zhexia said in a tone of leading by example, “and if I dare to date, Lin He would be the first to kill me.”

“I won’t either.”

Chi Yao spoke while looking into her eyes, “…won’t date, will study hard.”

After saying that, he raised his hand again, taking the initiative to make that childish gesture he had always sneered at. He bent his little finger, slightly elongating the final syllable: “If you’re not at ease… do you want to make a pinky promise?”

All around them were yellowish-green fireflies.

As if God had plucked down all the stars from the sky and placed them on earth.

Lin Zhexia carefully hooked her finger with Chi Yao’s, thinking that this “pinky promise” was the best gift she had received this year.

Even if.

It was just a promise that most likely wouldn’t be kept.

A boring oath that, once they truly parted, would be eroded by time over the long years.

But at least, today, she and Chi Yao had made a pinky promise.

She could hide this promise in her eternal memories of being eighteen, hide it in this summer, hide it in that midsummer night that couldn’t be shown to others.