Crossing the Line – Chapter 78
by Little PandaSo When Exactly Was That First Kiss?
It was a very simple wedding.
No flashy motorcade, no rowdy bridal pickup, not even bridesmaids.
Just two brides at each other’s side — the sole focus of every eye.
The guest arrangements, the ceremony flow, every last detail — Lin Xuebo and Qiao Jin had handled it all with the wedding planners, together with Kong Yuchen and a few relatives.
All the daughters had to do was confirm the details and walk through the program twice to get comfortable.
Lin Xuebo had told Qiao Jin that a wedding ought to be a day you remember with pure happiness when you’re old — so it should be spent joyfully and easily.
She refused to let her daughters tire themselves in the slightest.
Only enjoyment. No labor.
On their two wedding gowns sat a pair of identical brooches, impossible to miss.
That pair of emerald brooches left behind by Siyi’s late mother — the ones her elder sister had given her — had been sitting in the walk-in closet ever since. Too much had happened lately, and Lin Ji rarely wore jewelry; she’d never noticed them.
Before the ceremony, Siyi pulled Lin Ji into the walk-in closet, took out the pair, and pressed one brooch into her hand.
“Its destined owner. Care to take a look?”
Lin Ji picked it up with care, turning it gently under the light.
A soft, velvet-textured glow shimmered — like a green meteor frozen forever inside this universe.
“It’s beautiful,” Lin Ji said with genuine admiration.
Siyi: “My mother told me to give it to the person I’d spend my life with. So I thought—”
Lin Ji: “You want us to wear them at the wedding.”
Siyi nodded.
“It’s the only thing of hers I have left. If I wear it… maybe her spirit in heaven will sense it.”
Saying “spirit in heaven” made Siyi a little sheepish — as if she were spouting something childish and unrealistic.
The invitations had all gone out. That day, the Chinese restaurant at Yunding Hotel would host a banquet of a hundred tables.
Relatives, close friends, colleagues, old classmates… all of them would be there.
But Siyi knew: the mother who loved her, who could never let her go, would never see this.
Lin Ji watched her trail off mid-sentence, gaze drifting, and guessed what she was thinking. Without waiting for the ceremony, she pinned the brooch on right then.
“I think her spirit in heaven will sense it too. She’ll know you’ve married someone who loves you deeply. In your present and your future, there will always be someone standing by your side, supporting every decision you make.”
Lin Ji’s thumb caressed the brooch’s beautiful surface, and she sighed softly.
A pity she could never say those words to her face.
“Thank you for your brooch. Thank you for giving this world — giving me — such a wonderful Siyi. Thank you, Mother.”
What that unqualified “Mother” meant, Siyi understood perfectly.
Her heart, which had nearly slipped into a low place, was wrapped once more in gentle happiness.
She lifted her eyes to the person beside her. Her big double-lidded eyes, only just recovered, were rimmed faintly with red again.
Seeing that thin veil of sorrow settle over Siyi’s brow, Lin Ji cupped the back of her head and drew her close.
The tears threatening to surface receded at the sudden touch and nearness.
Siyi’s lashes fluttered.
Is she going to kiss me…?
Siyi tilted her warm face up, stretching her neck, ready to cooperate sweetly.
Lin Ji had meant only to kiss her brow and dissolve the gloom.
But under the lights, her wife stood utterly unguarded, her plain, elegant face tinged with anticipation and blush.
Of course every one of those expectations had to come true.
From brow to lips. As those sweet, soft lips parted, Lin Ji’s arm wrapped hard around her waist.
A familiar deep kiss, deepening still.
Every kiss Lin Ji gave carried a fervor that seemed to want to reach the innermost core of Siyi’s being.
The fingers braced against Lin Ji’s side stirred restlessly under the kiss.
The sorrow was gone; only a peach-pink bloom showed through snow-white skin.
…
Tao Xu’s emerald brooches rested on Siyi’s and Lin Ji’s chests, bearing witness — along with their vows — as they slipped the rings onto each other’s fingers.
The same two red diamond rings.
Lin Ji had wanted to commission an even more magnificent pair, but Siyi put a stop to it.
Red diamonds were already the pinnacle of gems — nearly 100 million RMB a ring. How much would “more beautiful” even cost…?
Siyi couldn’t bear to watch Lin Ji burn money like that. She said the pair they had was perfect.
Lin Ji took it that Siyi simply loved this red diamond — and it was beautiful, custom-made to suit Siyi’s temperament and hands; it truly flattered her.
Fine, then. They’d worn them at the public announcement already, but didn’t that just mean they were consecrated1, steeped in wedding fortune?
Siyi finished setting Lin Ji’s ring; Lin Ji pinched her jelly-pink fingertip and slid the ring onto her ring finger in turn — pushing it to the very base, gently circling the root of her finger.
Holding her fast, just like this.
It felt different from the plain bands of their flash marriage.
That earlier joy had carried uncertainty — as if borrowed from someone, or a blind stroke of luck from reckless impulse.
Here and now, watching the ring settle firmly around her beloved’s finger, her once-wavering heart was cradled by Siyi’s love-filled gaze.
What landed in Siyi’s palm was her heart, her lifetime — its finest destination.
At the sight of the emerald brooches, Jiang Siling in the audience burst into tears.
Beside her, Glenda had been happily snapping photos of the two gorgeous brides — then her girlfriend started crying out of nowhere, without a single frame of warning. Glenda hurriedly put down her phone to hunt for tissues.
Except Qiao Jin had carried off this table’s entire tissue box to dab the eyes of an equally weeping Lin Xuebo.
So Glenda dabbed Siling’s tears with her own sleeve.
That morning, Glenda had arrived in J City, swapped in a local SIM card, and called Jiang Siling. It took ages for Siling to pick up.
Glenda: 【Sweetheart, don’t tell me you’re still asleep?】
Siling, still in bed with her eyes shut, wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth and asked:
【You’re about to board?】
Glenda: 【…I’m already in J City.】
Siling went silent for one second, glanced at the time on her phone, and shot upright.
Crap, crap — late, late!
Her wedding gift — that painting one point eight meters wide and two meters tall, as big as a bed — was impossible for her to haul to the venue alone.
She frantically found a specialty company to crate it, raced against the clock, and just barely made the auspicious hour, dragging Glenda into the banquet hall before the ceremony began.
Before she could even catch her breath, Jiang Siyi and Lin Ji appeared.
The sweat hadn’t dried before the tears welled up.
Her heart hadn’t steadied once all morning.
Glenda watched her weep like pear blossoms in the rain, shoulders trembling — heart aching, and yet finding the sight so beautiful.
Midway through dabbing her tears, she raised her phone and took a photo.
Mid-sob, Siling paused.
I’m over here crying, and you’re out here “recording the beautiful life”?
“Don’t cry, sweetheart. Mama will keep loving you both from heaven.”
Glenda had crammed Chinese before the trip so she could better charm Siling’s family, and her skills had advanced by leaps and bounds. She’d thought that line came out especially well.
Instead, Siling cried even harder — tears flooding out like a sluice gate thrown open, beyond all consolation.
Glenda, drawing stares from every direction: …
While Siling sobbed her heart out at one end of the table, Lin Xuebo at the other couldn’t stop either.
Kong Yuchen dabbed his own eye corners, moved. Seeing Lin Xuebo’s face awash and the tissues all used up, he meant to grab some from the next table — but Qiao Jin got there first, so he gave up.
Because of his own failures back then, his daughter had suffered terribly — he’d nearly destroyed her life and this family. Lin Xuebo had barely acknowledged him since, and he’d never dared show the slightest displeasure, only kept trying to make amends — though his efforts sometimes backfired.
He knew Xiao You loved Jiang Siyi, and Lin Xuebo was deeply fond of this daughter-in-law.
So before the wedding, he had established a dedicated trust with Siyi as sole beneficiary, as his wedding gift.
The trust covered Siyi’s personal development, living expenses, education, and medical care, with a fixed share of its returns distributed annually — identical to Xiao You’s.
What he could do was so little. All he could do was give what he was able, disturb them as rarely as possible, and spare Xiao You the nightmares his face might stir.
When the daughters went in to change for the toast rounds, Lin Xuebo sat with Qiao Jin without so much as a glance at him. He was rather in the way here anyway, so he stepped out for a cigarette.
On his way out, Kong Yuchen passed Fan Qing’s table and greeted her with a nod.
Fan Qing responded with courteous restraint. Beside her, Zhou Ni asked, “Who’s that?”
Fan Qing poured her drink. “BOSS’s dad.”
Zhou Ni: “So she has a dad.”
Fan Qing: .
Zhou Ni’s invitation had come from Jiang Siyi herself.
That day, Siyi had called for her in the courtyard, and Zhou Ni had ambled into view — arms crossed as always, leaning against the nearest tree.
“What is it?”
Siyi handed over an exquisitely crafted invitation, her elegant fountain-pen handwriting across it.
“This is an invitation to my wedding with Lin Ji. I hope you’ll come.”
Zhou Ni was faintly surprised.
“I get one too?”
Siyi nodded with a smile.
“Thank you for protecting me all this time. If you come, there’s no wedding gift money2 expected — just come when you can, and we’ll celebrate together.”
It was the first invitation Zhou Ni had ever received in her life.
Looking at the sincere woman before her, she understood why Lin Ji could love her so much.
Zhou Ni: “Thanks. I’ll be there.”
Not just her first invitation — her first wedding banquet, ever.
Someone who always hid in the dark, suddenly exposed under bright lights amid a hundred tables of guests, felt a little out of place.
She declined the wine Fan Qing offered, drinking only fresh pomegranate juice cut with sparkling water.
She was used to staying sharp at all times.
At another table, Cen Lu rose to take a call, and Yan Yu tugged her back, burning with curiosity:
“What gift did you actually prepare? How are you still tight-lipped with me?”
Cen Lu: “You’ll find out soon enough.”
Yan Yu: “Huh? Why are you leaving me hanging?”
Cen Lu: “Serves you right for not playing by the rules — I’ll keep you hanging till it kills you.”
Yan Yu: …
Seriously — even wedding gifts are a competition now?
Heading for the door, Cen Lu also passed Fan Qing and Zhou Ni’s table.
She’d already gone by before she stepped back.
“Zhou Ni?”
Zhou Ni’s eyes flickered at the sight of her.
“Miss Cen.”
“It really is you. Are your wounds better?”
“Mm. Much better.”
Fan Qing hadn’t expected the two of them to know each other.
Cen Lu said nothing more — only “The haircut suits you” — and left.
Fan Qing asked curiously, “You’ve met?”
Zhou Ni’s gaze went a little blank. She reached absently for a drink. “Mm. Northern Myanmar.”
Fan Qing pressed the wineglass she’d grabbed by mistake back down and slid the juice over instead.
Zhou Ni: .
The moment Cen Lu stepped out, a clear crash echoed from the fire escape, followed by a man’s scream.
She wrapped up her call in a few brisk words and walked toward it.
Through the open door: Kong Yuchen, formerly crisp in suit and tie, collar askew, knuckles red. On the floor lay a shattered phone, and beside it sat a man clutching his face — his older brother, Kong Yuming.
Just now, when Kong Yuchen had left the banquet hall, he’d found his older brother smoking with some Kong family relatives.
Kong Yuming had pointed at Lin Ji’s name on the welcome sign: “They even got the name wrong. What, forgotten how to write ‘Kong Ji’?”
One of them spotted Kong Yuchen and patted Kong Yuming’s arm, a bit awkwardly:
“The name’s been changed for years. Don’t grumble on a day like this.”
Kong Yuming: “Did I say anything wrong? I don’t think so. All these years — who exactly has been taking a chicken feather as a command arrow3? Everyone here knows perfectly well. And look at my little brother — spineless as ever. What did I say back then? Marry a wife too strong-willed and it’ll wreck the family—”
He never finished. His collar was seized — so hard he nearly choked.
He twisted back in alarm and met Kong Yuchen’s furious eyes.
“The bank gala. That was the last time I ever put up with you.”
Kong Yuchen dragged him all the way to the empty fire escape and drove two brutal fists into his face.
That was the scene Cen Lu walked in on.
Kong Yuming, teeth stained with blood, pointed at Kong Yuchen: “He— he’s beating me! Call the police!”
Cen Lu glanced at the shattered phone and quietly shut the door.
Kong Yuming: ??
Cen Lu leaned against the door, savoring the exquisite screams within, and smooth-talked away every curious rubbernecker.
That door wasn’t opening today.
It was Xiao You’s wedding day. No one was going to sully her eyes.
By convention, the newlyweds would toast table by table.
But convention was only convention.
Every convention that worked against her wife, Lin Ji deported.
Lin Ji had let everyone know in advance: her wife didn’t drink, so there’d be no liquor toasts — only soft drinks.
She wasn’t afraid of dampening anyone’s fun. When the affection is real, people are delighted even sharing a soda. When it isn’t, all that alcohol buys is a round of mutual slaps.
So the two brides made their rounds openly and unapologetically, glasses of juice raised to “toast.”
Lin Xuebo was simply overjoyed today. After her speech, she’d held Xueqiu in her arms and matched Qiao Jin drink for drink — crying, then laughing, then crying again, emotions surging and dipping while the words never stopped, until she was well and truly tipsy.
Seeing her daughters approach together, she rose and swayed.
Siyi caught her.
“Mama, careful.”
The tears she’d been holding back threatened to break loose again. Unwilling to spoil the mood on such a happy day, Lin Xuebo turned away and wiped them off — and Xueqiu licked her hand, coaxing a laugh out of her.
“My precious daughters. Mama only hopes the rest of your days are happy and loving — side by side, never parted again.”
By the last words, Lin Xuebo’s voice was shaking.
Siyi’s vision had blurred too.
Mama.
Siyi took a deep breath and looked up at the bright chandelier overhead.
Mama, you don’t need to worry about me anymore. From today on, I have a family again — someone who loves me with all her heart, and one more mother to cherish me.
Lin Ji kept close watch at her side, terrified Siyi would cry at the very first table.
But Siyi held up admirably — eyes reddening only, no tears.
She’d promised Lin Ji: today was a happy day, and she absolutely would not cry.
With all her attention on Siyi, Lin Ji grabbed the wrong bottle while refilling her own glass — Lin Xuebo’s liquor — and filled it to the brim without noticing.
At the second table, she downed it in one go, and only realized when the alcohol seared her throat and set her coughing.
So busy shielding her wife, she’d taken the hit herself.
Lin Ji’s ears went hot at once. She stared at the glass, baffled.
Ms. Xuebo drinks this strong?
Siyi rubbed her back. “Choked?”
Lin Ji: “Poured the wrong one.”
Said with perfect calm — while the alcohol flush rose over her face with perfect candor.
Come to think of it, Siyi had rarely seen Lin Ji drink. At galas and parties she barely touched alcohol; her diet was consistently healthy — restrained, even — drinking nothing but mineral water at family dinners.
Siyi had no idea what her tolerance was, or whether one glass of hard liquor straight down might get her drunk.
Lin Ji brushed the back of a finger gently over Siyi’s palm.
“I’m fine.”
Fine — except her vision was splitting a little at the edges, and she rather wanted to scoop her wife up and carry her home for the rest of their newlywed evening.
So many people had come today — Lin Ji’s relatives, friends, business partners, and plenty from Siyi’s side as well.
Everyone who had helped her, been kind to her over the years — she remembered them all, and had delivered every invitation personally.
Even Auntie Liu and Uncle Yu came, cheeks flushed red with drink, gripping Lin Ji’s hand and insisting what a perfect pair they made.
Each face Siyi saw summoned a memory. As they left Duan Ning’s table, Lin Ji said to her:
“There’s someone very special I want you to meet. Teacher Wei.”
Teacher Wei.
Siyi’s heart skipped.
The very Teacher Wei who had kindly rescued Lin Ji in that mountain village all those years ago.
Teacher Wei was smaller than Siyi had pictured — slight and thin, her skin sun-darkened, but brimming with vitality.
Listening to them talk, Siyi learned for the first time that Lin Ji had founded a student aid fund, managed by Teacher Wei, to help more children out of hardship and toward their dreams.
Beyond that, Lin Ji had funded volunteer associations that searched for trafficked children, year after year.
Every third weekend of the month, she spent her afternoons volunteering with them.
She had never told Siyi any of this.
Siyi remembered Zhou Ni’s words: “What kind of past makes her feel for people like us?”
A past of pain beyond imagining.
And even so, Lin Ji — so accustomed to facing others behind a cold exterior — kept trying, in silence, to love this world again.
Wave after wave of aching tenderness surged into Siyi’s heart. She laced her fingers through Lin Ji’s and did not let go once.
Lin Ji knew what Siyi was thinking, what her instincts feared.
Ever since Lin Ji had told her about her past — at home or out in the world — Siyi would grip her hand tight without thinking.
Sometimes in her sleep she’d turn over, unconsciously searching for it.
Even though Lin Ji was twenty-eight now, long since grown, mature and sharp-edged, Siyi still feared she might be lost.
Unwilling to see her so tense, Lin Ji leaned close:
“Don’t worry. Even if I’m banished again to the ends of the earth, I’ll come back to cling to you all over again.”
Lin Ji’s ever-cool face had taken on a flush from the alcohol, and her usually rational eyes brimmed with tenderness.
With a hall full of honored guests around them, Siyi looked at no one — she only kissed Lin Ji’s lips.
Kissed her until Lin Ji’s gaze froze for several seconds.
Siyi: “I won’t ever let you leave my side again. The ends of the earth — I’ll go there with you.”
Lin Ji’s eyes curved, utterly lost in the moment.
She knew this wasn’t a dream.
Because in all her countless dreams, not one had ever been this happy.
…
With the “toasts” done, waves of family and friends came for photos. Siyi held Xueqiu, a yellow candy hairpin clipped into his fur, while Lin Ji’s arm wrapped around Siyi’s waist.
Something seemed to occur to Siyi, and she let out a sudden snort of laughter.
In the gap while one group dispersed, Lin Ji asked, “What’s so funny?”
Siyi pressed her lips together, then whispered at her ear:
“I was remembering the first time we… kissed. It was so strange — how did we just suddenly hold on to each other and start kissing?”
Odd and abrupt, yet somehow exactly right — as if some unseen hand had guided them.
“No.”
“Hm?”
“Our first kiss — that wasn’t it.”
The claim was too unexpected. Siyi: “…What? Then when was it?”
Just then Duan Ning, Manager Wu, and the others crowded over, sandwiching the two brides between them for another round of photos.
And Lin Ji, of all moments, refused to say more.
Siyi kept her smile fixed, head full of question marks, unable to recall it no matter how she tried.
Not that time?
Then when was our first kiss?
Don’t tell me I actually lost my memory at some point…?
The author has something to say:
Lin Ji: Wife-pampering, step thirty-seven — some questions need answering on the spot, and some don’t
Footnotes
- 开光 | kaiguang | A consecration ritual in which a monk or Taoist priest dots the eyes of a newly made Buddha statue or sacred object, symbolically animating it; colloquially extended to any object being blessed for good fortune, as Lin Ji jokes about their rings.
- 份子钱 | fenziqian | A customary cash gift presented in a red envelope by wedding guests in China, traditionally sized to cover the guest's share of the banquet and to honor the couple; declining it, as Siyi does here, is a notably warm gesture of friendship over formality.
- 抓着鸡毛当令箭 | zhua zhe ji mao dang lingjian | Literally 'grasping a chicken feather to wield as a command arrow'; an idiom mocking someone who inflates a trivial pretext into sweeping authority, after the arrow-shaped tallies that imperial Chinese generals issued to empower bearers to act in their name.
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