Like a small stone thrown into a calm, rippleless lake, it stirred fleeting ripples before settling back into silence. The atmosphere grew still for a few seconds. The person on top of her suddenly paused, and Shang Li’s heart tightened along with it, the scalding blood in her veins seeming to cool slightly.
Heavy breaths brushed against her collarbone as soft lips descended once more. Meng Yuan muttered, “Why wait? You’re mine, can’t I have you?”
While complaining, her hands roamed skillfully and mischievously over Shang Li’s body.
Shang Li let out a slight sigh of relief, biting her lip to suppress a moan that threatened to escape. She swatted Meng Yuan’s hand away and pressed, “Then who am I?”
An indignant whimper followed immediately, like a child denied candy, as Meng Yuan reluctantly answered her question.
“Sister Shang Li.”
The tender words reached her ears, and a peculiar sensation surged upward, swiftly spreading to her cerebral cortex.
It was as if countless fireworks bloomed all at once, their lingering echoes refusing to fade.
Shang Li wrapped her arms around the person on top of her and took a deep breath.
Her body temperature soared, a fine layer of sweat forming as a faint blush spread across her skin.
It felt like lying on a vast, boundless sea, sailing far away on a boat, yet she was not the one rowing.
The small boat lost control, suddenly sliding downward, drifting into the tranquil depths of the ocean.
All the suggestive, sticky, and fervent sounds gradually faded, while Meng Yuan’s steady, drawn-out breaths grew increasingly clear beside her ear.
Shang Li covered her flushed face, the heat escaping through her fingers. A sense of dissatisfaction arose in the emptiness left behind. Frowning, she shot an annoyed glare at the other person, silently cursing her for being so infuriating.
To stir her up so intensely and then just stop.
Unable to contain her frustration, Shang Li gritted her teeth, taking a long time to calm down before exhaling a heavy breath. With a mix of disgust and resignation, she pushed Meng Yuan aside and got up, heading to the bathroom.
When she returned, Meng Yuan hadn’t moved, still curled up with her face buried in the soft pillow. Her slightly wavy black hair covered half her face, her jawline smooth and her lips crimson.
Shang Li sat down beside her, gently brushing the hair aside. She gazed at her for a long while, her heart sinking uncontrollably, not daring to indulge too freely. Finally, she let out a soft sigh.
Frustrated and wistful.
Meng Yuan, what do you think you’re doing?
I’m already standing at the edge of the cliff, you could either push me over or pull me back firmly.
Either shatter me to pieces or transform me entirely.
What’s the point of beckoning me so ambiguously?
Her fingertips traced Meng Yuan’s face. The sleeping figure appeared serene and gentle, her features softened in repose.
The emotions that had surged within her all day finally settled, enveloped in a quiet peace. A faint weariness crept onto her brow as Shang Li rubbed her temples and lay down beside Meng Yuan, nose to nose, gazing at her almost greedily.
She could no longer deceive herself, the hesitant crack in her heart had already begun to widen endlessly, making room for the 28-year-old Meng Yuan.
In less than a month, it would be their tenth year.
This was what the 21-year-old Meng Yuan had hoped for.
At the very least, couldn’t she grant her this one thing?
“That’s how it is, Mom. Maybe we can have a meal together another day?” Shang Li nervously picked at the cartoon design on the back of her phone as she asked.
Lai Yanmei replied, “No need. I’m heading back this afternoon.”
“Ah?” Shang Li was taken aback. “Why so soon?”
“I never came just for this meal,” Lai Yanmei said in a light tone, sighing as she spoke. “Since you still want to be with her, I have nothing more to say. Your temperament, I…”
Shang Li pressed her lips together, remaining silent.
Lai Yanmei continued on her own, “I understand how you feel, but I’m still a little worried. Actually, your father and I were once in love too. In the beginning, we faced the trivialities of life together and worked hard, but unfortunately, we didn’t last till the end.”
“…”
“But I don’t regret it. We tried, and there are no regrets. Xiao Li, all I want to tell you now is that there are always things beyond our control. If you really can’t make it to the end, it’s okay. Don’t be afraid of misplaced efforts, don’t be afraid of sunk costs. Nothing is more important than yourself.”
The gentle words fell clearly into her ears, striking the sorest parts of her heart one by one. A mist gradually rose in Shang Li’s eyes as she nodded and said, “I know, Mom. Don’t worry, I will be happy.”
The words “I will be happy” felt choked and dry as they left her throat, as if hinting at something ominous. To keep Lai Yanmei from worrying, she repeated the words, sounding much more composed this time, though still lacking the bright certainty of before.
Opening the chat interface with Meng Yuan, an inexplicable worry arose, and waves of panic surged in her chest, difficult to suppress.
At the same moment, a message popped up.
[There’s a charity banquet on the 24th of next month. The organizers gave me a few invitations. Will you go?]
Shang Li remembered this banquet. It was hosted by a high-end luxury brand that Meng Yuan endorsed, usually held in June or July each year. The proceeds from the auction were mainly used to support underprivileged children.
She also remembered when Meng Yuan was first invited, the organizers hadn’t sent enough invitations. Meng Yuan had been determined to bring her along and went through great lengths to secure an extra one. After learning about the situation, the organizers made sure to send Meng Yuan one or two additional invitations every year.
As Meng Yuan’s status rose, her seating at the event was arranged closer and closer to the front, right under the spotlight.
And so, the distance between them grew wider.
But back then, no matter how far she stood or how deeply she hid, as long as Meng Yuan turned around, she could spot her instantly in the crowd.
She never felt they were far apart. A single glance could bridge the distance, bringing them close together, heart to heart, secure and comforting.
Recalling the past, Shang Li’s lips curved into a faint smile, soft with nostalgia and tinged with a hint of loss.
She didn’t reply immediately but asked, [Are you going?]
Meng Yuan replied that she was. Without hesitation, Shang Li followed up: [Alright, then I’ll go with you.]
Meng Yuan: [Mm.]
Shang Li scrolled up to check the time of the previous messages and suddenly realized it was the day before their anniversary.
She couldn’t help but care.
She couldn’t help but look forward to it.
July 24, 2025, Cloudy, 25°/36°, Air Quality: Good.
Shang Li closed the weather forecast and glanced at the sky outside. Dark clouds loomed heavily, oppressive and gloomy, making it hard to breathe.
Shang Li twisted the red cord in her hand, unconsciously tying it into a knot. She untangled it, placed it back into the box, and pondered the right moment to give it to her.
Just then, a message from Meng Yuan popped up on her phone.
[I’m almost there. Come down to the garage.]
Meng Yuan had just finished shooting a commercial and was rushing back to her apartment to pick her up for the evening banquet.
After a moment’s thought, Shang Li still declined, “No need. I’ll ride with Shi Jing later, she happens to be going that way.”
The banquet would be a gathering of elites and stars, with countless media reporters on site.
She and Meng Yuan, one a D-list actress, the other a popular film queen were worlds apart in the public eye, completely unrelated. Who would have guessed they had been in a relationship for almost ten years?
Ten years ago, the overall environment in the country was extremely hostile toward same-sex relationships, to the point where the topic was almost taboo.
Nowadays, although social attitudes had relaxed considerably, many still avoided the subject, and only a handful of celebrities dared to openly acknowledge their sexual orientation.
Moreover, in the entertainment industry, audiences imposed far more restrictions on female stars than on male stars. Every gesture and action was placed under a microscope, analyzed frame by frame.
Shang Li remembered one year, also on their way to a banquet, just before arriving at their destination, Meng Yuan, reluctant to part, had pressed her for a kiss. That moment had nearly been caught by paparazzi.
To be safe, it was better to keep some distance from Meng Yuan in public.
Unaware of Shang Li’s inner thoughts, Meng Yuan insisted, “I’m almost there, and we’re short on time. Hurry down.”
Fine, she could just get out of the car a little earlier. With that thought, Shang Li said goodbye to Shi Jing, lifted the hem of her dress, and headed out.
Stepping out of the air-conditioned room, the sweltering summer heat hit her immediately. The stifling humidity and warmth accumulated in the elevator, intensifying as it descended.
When the elevator doors opened on the basement level B2, Shang Li hurried out to catch her breath.
Soon, a long black business sedan slowly approached her.
Shang Li strode over, pushed open the rear door out of habit, and was about to step inside when she came face to face with a stranger yet somehow familiar.