Chapter 89: Lu Yuanqiu, Will You Always Be Here?

“Brother—sob… I don’t want to sit here! Stop it! Stop it!”
Lu Yidong sat on the other side of Lu Yuanqiu, wailing like a banshee. She shrank into her brother’s arms, wishing she could weld herself to him.
Lu Yuanqiu reached out to hold his sister, then turned to look at the other side. Bai Qingxia could barely speak, her hand seemingly cast in iron around Lu Yuanqiu’s arm, gripping tightly.
But the terror of the pirate ship lay in its relentless ascent, never quite knowing when it would end.
The tail rose again, the whole ship tilting almost vertically, ninety degrees to the ground. Down below, Lu Tian watched, his facial muscles twitching involuntarily.
“I just don’t get what’s fun about this…”
A protest from someone with acrophobia.
The tail reached the highest point. Lu Yidong wailed and clung to her brother, while Bai Qingxia endured in silence, eyes shut tight, grasping Lu Yuanqiu’s arm.
The pirate ship plummeted.
Lu Yuanqiu let out a howl of excitement: “Whooo—!”
“Lu Yuanqiu!”
Bai Qingxia suddenly called out, her body swiftly curling into his embrace. Lu Yuanqiu turned hurriedly, wrapping his arm tightly around her.
The girl’s body was slender and soft, shivering in the boy’s arms; the closeness and warmth made Lu Yuanqiu smile. As the pirate ship plunged downward, he held both girls, howling with exhilaration like a triumphant hero. His youthful voice brushed past green leaves, soared into the blue sky, and was immortalized in the 2010 sky, spelling out the word “youth.”
“Awesome!”
As they stepped off the pirate ship, Lu Yidong immediately ran, crying, into her father’s arms. “I didn’t want to sit at the tail, but Lu Yuanqiu insisted! I was so scared, Daddy, sob…”
“I understand, I understand. Daddy knows how that feels. Don’t cry, don’t cry.”
Lu Tian soothed his daughter, glancing with his wife at the pair descending the steps.
Lu Yuanqiu walked ahead, Bai Qingxia following closely, still shaken; her small hand hovered in the air, clutching at the back of Lu Yuanqiu’s t-shirt.
Su Xiaoya smiled, “Want to play again?”
Bai Qingxia quickly shook her head, unable to smile; although she let go of Lu Yuanqiu’s shirt, she stayed close, as if the lost sense of security hadn’t fully returned.
Lu Tian said, “Let’s find a spot for some pictures. Time’s running short, let Xia go home early.”
“Alright.”
The five of them headed toward the altar. Bai Qingxia stayed tightly by Lu Yuanqiu’s side, afraid of falling behind.
“Who’s first?”
Lu Yuanqiu held the camera.
Lu Tian and Su Xiaoya waved their hands, “You kids take pictures. We adults don’t need any.”
“I’ll go first!” Lu Yidong volunteered.

Her eyes were still rimmed with tears, but now she smiled as she stood by the altar, striking poses.
One, two, three, four… fifteen shots.
Lu Yidong kept switching to adorable poses, never repeating herself.
When she struck her sixteenth pose, Lu Yuanqiu finally couldn’t take it anymore and lowered the camera. “Enough!”
Damn, is this ever going to end? You’re about to use up all my film!
“I’m not done yet!”
The little sprite protested, but Lu Yuanqiu signaled to their mother, and Su Xiaoya quickly pulled her away.
The photos were really meant for Bai Qingxia, not for Lu Yidong’s antics.
But it wasn’t her fault. She simply hadn’t been present when the family held meetings about “how to help Bai Qingxia heal.”
Maybe it was better this way. Lu Yidong was young, sometimes oblivious to nuance.
She just needed to be herself, not treat Bai Qingxia differently, to see her as a normal person. That was enough.
She had already done pretty well today.
“You, stand over there.”
Lu Yuanqiu turned his head and ordered Bai Qingxia.
The girl, standing alone, snapped out of her daze. She thought they’d only take a photo at the carousel. “What are you waiting for? Go stand there. No need for any poses, just smile.”
Lu Yuanqiu raised the camera.
The girl appeared in the lens, her hands hanging in front, looking seriously at the camera. Gradually, a shy smile bloomed on her face.
“Don’t move, keep smiling.”
At that moment, a timely autumn breeze swept through, her hair and the hem of her skirt fluttering to one side. She smiled at the camera, petals dancing behind her.
Lu Yuanqiu paused for a moment.
Then his lips curled up, and he pressed the shutter.
“Click!”
…
“After this, let’s head home. Next time, if we have more time and opportunity, we can stay longer.”
Inside the Ferris wheel, Lu Yuanqiu and Bai Qingxia shared one cabin, while their parents and Lu Yidong occupied another.
“Okay.”
Bai Qingxia replied, then turned back to gaze through the glass at the scenery outside.

The Ferris wheel slowly ascended.
Lu Yuanqiu lowered his head, smiling with satisfaction at the photos he had just taken. Suddenly, Bai Qingxia spoke. “Lu Yuanqiu, which university do you want to attend?”
Hearing the question, Lu Yuanqiu looked up. Bai Qingxia hadn’t turned around, but the question was unmistakably hers.
“Me? Well, I’ll have to see what I can score first. What about you? Which university do you want to go to?”
Bai Qingxia turned slightly, smiling and shaking her head. “I… haven’t decided yet.”
Lu Yuanqiu was surprised. “With your grades, you could easily get into Qingbei.”
“I’m not going to Qingbei.” The girl answered resolutely.
She pursed her lips and turned back to the scenery outside.
The Ferris wheel rose higher, half the city of Lucheng unfolded below. Bai Qingxia could see the village where she lived, the distant skyscrapers. In the glass reflection, she noticed Lu Yuanqiu watching her from behind.
Her heart was tangled.
Lu Yuanqiu withdrew his gaze and exhaled, understanding why Bai Qingxia wouldn’t choose Qingbei.
Too far. She still had her father.
“From this angle, Lucheng actually looks pretty beautiful, doesn’t it?”
Lu Yuanqiu spoke as he approached.
Bai Qingxia nodded gently. “What I see is beautiful.”
What she couldn’t see—was another matter.
She leaned forward, breathed onto the glass, watching as the world became misty. Raising her slender finger, she drew patterns on the fogged window.
After a moment, Bai Qingxia forced a faint smile, her voice soft and hesitant, as if she spoke idly, yet as if voicing a wish buried deep within:
“Lu Yuanqiu, will you always be here…”
Her voice was so quiet that Lu Yuanqiu almost didn’t catch her words.
It took him a while to react. He looked out the window, smiling. “Where?”
The girl’s lashes quivered. She turned her head slightly, struggling to keep tears from spilling, and replied, “Somewhere others can see you, and I can see you too.”
Lu Yuanqiu gazed at her delicate face reflected in the glass, hanging low. Suddenly, he grew serious, raised two fingers and swept them across his forehead in a dashing gesture. “At your beck and call!”
The girl smiled again, lifting her head, only to find the glass before her had misted over once more.
(End of chapter)