Rong Xue said nothing. As she lowered her gaze, her dark eyelashes fluttered, and she felt Fu Xizhi’s teasing stare locked on her.
She inhaled the remaining half of her cigarette.
Inside the room, the air circulation, the air conditioning, and the windows were all tightly shut. Smoke particles slipped into her nasal cavity, making her nose begin to itch.
It was pitiable. Even though it was extremely itchy, scratching it would only make her allergic reaction worse.
Fu Xizhi presented a glass of water to her: Have some water, take a breather. Breathe, breathe. Do you need me to fan you?
The cigarette came to an end, its spark pressed out and extinguished in the ashtray.
Thanks, no need. Rong Xue took hold of the glass of water and drank it down in one gulp.
Immediately following that, Fu Xizhi helped Rong Xue light her second cigarette. Watching her bite down on it, Fu Xizhi then jumped to another topic: You didn’t reply to my WeChat tonight; it kept showing ‘typing…’ What did you want to say?
A slip of the finger. I didn’t intend to reply in the first place. You’ve already had your fun, so what else could I possibly reply?
Taking advantage of a pause in her coughing, Rong Xue replied. The nicotine was driving her nearly insane; if she had known beforehand that Fu Xizhi would use this trick against her, she would rather have offered a few vague excuses to protect herself.
Fu Xizhi let out a downcast sigh: You disconnected it, so the remote on my end became useless. Don’t tell me you don’t want to feel good… or are you guarding against me, afraid I’d turn it on during your performance and cause a flood?
Rong Xue: Neither. I got my period. My stomach hurts; it’s period cramps.
Fu Xizhi suddenly understood. She reached out, lifted the hem of her skirt, and stroked her lower abdomen: Have you taken medicine?
Rong Xue gave her a side glance and uttered a brief hum, offering no further words. Because of the allergic reaction, speaking even a single extra word was sheer torment.
Fu Xizhi nodded. She gathered up the complete cigarettes and arranged them into an irregular little heart shape. Holding onto her slender wrist, she said with concern: How about this? There’s no need to use all of them. Six will be enough.
She anticipated Rong Xue’s reaction; period cramps were hard to bear, and she wasn’t deliberately trying to make things difficult for Rong Xue.
The skin at the corner of Rong Xue’s long, narrow eyes was slightly swollen, its color looking as if it had been drawn on with a red crayon, carrying the distinct sense of a defeated casualty. Yet, it didn’t lessen her striking beauty in the slightest.
By the fourth cigarette, Rong Xue rested her forehead against her arm in a posture of taking a quick doze. Her breathing was slightly hurried, and the cigarette between her fingers crackled as it burned.
This one is too harsh, Rong Xue said.
Fu Xizhi cupped her face with both hands and agreed: Right? This kind is just harsher on the throat than slim cigarettes. How about you stop smoking it, and I’ll go open a window?
Don’t joke. Knowing you, it’s probably a smoke screen.
Rong Xue thought to herself that this person wouldn’t be so kind-hearted. Just like a clear-cut transaction, if she didn’t pay off tonight’s debt, how could Fu Xizhi possibly let the matter rest? Rong Xue twitched the corner of her mouth. What other trick do you have up your sleeve to deal with me next?
Fu Xizhi pinched Rong Xue’s chin in one swift motion, forcing her to look her straight in the face, and defended herself as if she were the wronged one: Listen to you. What have I done to ‘deal with’ you? Are we enemies or something? Where is the trust between people?
Rong Xue: Enough. Stop beating around the bush.
Fu Xizhi raised three fingers and slowly listed her faults.
Tonight, you bear three sins: First, changing the piece on the spot, you played California; second, turning off the toy without permission; third, violating the curfew by coming back as late as eleven o’clock. As for the latter two matters, I’ve already chosen not to hold them against you.
In the first semester of their sophomore year, Fu Xizhi had actively sought out Rong Xue, whose family circumstances had fallen into ruin, and helped her settle her family’s crumbling company.
She placed her gravely ill mother in a VIP ward, spending dozens of grand just on the ICU alone.
For her, the most foolish transaction was during the summer break of their sophomore year, when she bailed Rong Xue’s ex out of the detention center and spent a huge sum of money to send them to California in the United States to lay low.
Now look at this, even when it came to a single piece of music, she, as the sugar mommy, couldn’t even make the call.
Knowing she was in the wrong and had gone back on her word, Rong Xue couldn’t find a proper excuse, so she could only offer a perfunctory one: It’s September now. California feels like summer all year round, which fits the summer theme very well. People love to see it.
What a bullsh*t reason. A summer feeling, to hell with her California, and to hell with people loving to see it. Fu Xizhi felt that Rong Xue brushing her off with two sloppy sentences was no different from adding fuel to the fire.
Today, she had shown great mercy by allowing Rong Xue to make a call to her ex. Who could be fooled by such a lousy excuse…
She had also been looking for trouble by doing a random good deed; when Rong Xue said she wanted to know how her ex was doing, it was supposed to be just a single phone call.
Separated by an entire Pacific Ocean, it wasn’t as if Rong Xue was still thinking about having a long-distance relationship with her ex, right?
It was her own carelessness and soft-heartedness.
California, summer, September… makes so much sense, Fu Xizhi thought.
If you’re unjust, then I won’t be fair either. Fu Xizhi thought as she flicked the lighter, lighting two cigarettes at once. She tapped them against Rong Xue’s lips, laughing out of extreme anger: These two cigarettes are also your summer pastimes. Victory is just ahead; strike while the iron is hot!
Rong Xue didn’t say a word, nor did she even look at her. Her fingers trembled as she held the cigarettes and bit into them, putting up a desperate fight as she inhaled with all her might.
After about five minutes, the battle came to an end. Rong Xue finally couldn’t hold on any longer, breathing in heavy gasps before coughing uncontrollably.
Fu Xizhi assembled the little heart shape, a terrible piece of work. The punishment ended here; it had lost all flavor.
She walked over to the smart home panel to turn on the air conditioner, then pulled open the balcony window. A fresh breeze from the high floor blew against her face. Looking back at Rong Xue, her coughing sounds had quieted down a bit.
Fu Xizhi turned and went to the kitchen counter, poured a glass of plain water, found antihistamine medicine from the living room storage cabinet, and pressed out one pill into her palm.
She helped up Rong Xue, who was slumping over the coffee table, and tossed her a pill, feeling very thoughtful herself.
The pads of Fu Xizhi’s fingers swept over Rong Xue’s burning skin, rubbing from her face down to her neck, unable to put her hands down.
Someone was gossiping about me behind my back today. Actually, it’s nothing, just the same old repeating talk, saying things like I don’t deserve you. I don’t really like judging people by their looks, but even though you’re having an allergic reaction and rash spots have broken out on your face, you’re still very pretty. Still, when they called you a rich, beautiful princess, I almost told them the truth.
Cool fingertips slid across her cheek. Rong Xue swallowed the medicine with water, slowly feeling the heat throughout her body recede bit by bit.
She glanced at Fu Xizhi: Is mocking me that fun?
The smell of smoke had overpowered the fig perfume scent that Fu Xizhi liked. Fu Xizhi leaned close to her strands of hair and took a light sniff; it was all covered in cigarette smell, which didn’t smell good.
No such thing. I don’t want to mock your pain. Your family was simply down on their luck, falling off a cliff overnight. It’s just that you can’t put down the air you put on, which feels a bit tragic. Going from luxury to frugality is hard.
Rong Xue didn’t bother arguing with her. She glanced at the entrance hallway. What’s inside there?
Oh, right. You mentioned it before: a Porsche 911.
Thank you.
Fu Xizhi kissed the top of her hair: Only a thank you? That lacks sincerity.
Rong Xue: You haven’t cooled down yet.
Fu Xizhi wrapped her arm around hers, her soft body pressing against her: Whether I’ve cooled down or not, don’t you know best?
Let me rest for a bit. Rong Xue understood, her tone exhausted.
Fu Xizhi let Rong Xue lean on the sofa to wait for the medicine to take effect.
She walked over to the balcony, curled herself up into the beanbag chair, hugged her knees, and looked out at the crescent moon. After a long while, she spoke: It’s so annoying. You are willful, domineering, rebellious, despicable, villainous, and you don’t take me seriously at all.
Rong Xue looked at her back profile. Her voice, due to her lack of physical strength, sounded airy as if coming from far away: Just because of a song, you can really overthink. Are you so bothered by it because you like me? I know the meaning of that song; it’s an ambiguous confession.
Fu Xizhi burst out laughing, finding it unbelievable: Rong Xue, could it be that you substituted the two of us into it? You flatter yourself too much. ‘Like’? Horrible. It sounds like a horror story.
Her relentless pursuit of Rong Xue was for a simple reason: back in the first grade of elementary school, Rong Xue had done something unpleasant to her. But she transferred to another school shortly after, and Rong Xue didn’t remember a person like her at all.
Fu Xizhi felt that this level of punishment was merely a trivial, petty revenge against Rong Xue.
Rong Xue glanced at the things assembled on the table that barely counted as a heart.
A lingering tightness remained in her throat. As the night wind brought in fresh air, she took a deep breath, looking up as the wind blew her hair strands.
Fine. It’s my fault. I’m wrong, I’m guilty. I plead guilty.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter anymore, Fu Xizhi said.
After about half an hour, Fu Xizhi turned her head to check. Rong Xue’s allergic reaction had mostly subsided, and she was lowering her gaze, propping herself up against the sofa to stand up. She called out to her: Beer.
Rong Xue sluggishly moved to the kitchen, splashed her face with water, and pressed both hands against the countertop to force herself to perk up, her chest heaving a few times.
She opened the refrigerator, took out a can of beer, her long dress fluttering gently. Her fair, white toes stepped into the light and shadows where the lamps and moonlight blended together as she arrived at Fu Xizhi’s side: Here.
Fu Xizhi raised her hand. When their fingers touched, the chill of the aluminum can met the warmth of Rong Xue’s fingertips, a mix of cold and hot. The tips of Rong Xue’s hair lightly brushed across the back of her hand.
Her gaze fell upon the shoulder strap that had slipped down one side of Rong Xue’s shoulder. After a moment of silence, she let out a deep, mysterious smile: Turn off the lights.
Rong Xue felt bashful: I said I need to rest for a bit.
Fu Xizhi: That’s kind of funny. As per the sugar mommy’s demands, at least in bed, you don’t have the right to refuse. Good news: I haven’t reached my period yet.
The subtext was that tonight Fu Xizhi would be the one on the bottom. In the one year of their contract, over three hundred days, talking to each other was like talking to a wall, yet making love was more frequent than three meals a day.
The base of Rong Xue’s ears, which had finally returned to normal temperature, was now quietly heating up again under her hair.
She turned off the lights and heard a pop behind her; Fu Xizhi had pulled open the tab of the can, and white beer foam welled up.
Fu Xizhi took a sip of the beer, her lower legs dangling and swinging until her toes touched the floor. Looking sideways at Rong Xue, she said: Take off the leg garter.
The leg garter that had bound her thigh the entire day squeezed out elastic thigh flesh around its edges. Rong Xue knelt on one knee and unfastened the black leather.
As the leather ring was removed, a terrible black king snake tattoo wrapped in blood-dripping thorns was fully revealed. The head of the snake at the root of her thigh extended downwards. Looking closely, the tattoo covered up most of the scars on her leg.
Getting a tattoo over old scars was something many people did.
Rong Xue was stunned for a moment, closed her eyes, and leaned forward.
She was afraid of snakes, had been ever since she was little. Perhaps Fu Xizhi knew, or perhaps she was pretending not to know.
Fu Xizhi tilted her neck back, propping herself on the sofa with one arm. The loosely held beer can fell, rolling for a few seconds as the remaining golden liquor seeped onto the floorboards, leaving a trace of alcohol scent in the air.
Fu Xizhi took a light breath: Wait a moment.
Rong Xue lifted her eyelids and wiped away what was smeared at the corner of her mouth with her thumb: To the bed?
Fu Xizhi pressed her toes against her shoulder and gave a push backward, while she herself slid down the beanbag chair like a little snake, flowing bonelessly onto the floor, stretching like a cat.
My friends say I look like a little stray cat and can attract cat lovers. Are you one?
I don’t keep pets, Rong Xue said.
Oh, Fu Xizhi didn’t feel it was a pity, having grown accustomed to Rong Xue talking back from time to time. She smiled and said, Cats can raise humans too. I’m keeping you, which makes total sense.
Understanding that she was roleplaying a cat, a fair-skinned, beautiful Persian cat?
No, more like a little stray cat that would suddenly scratch someone. Rong Xue still felt that Fu Xizhi’s various roleplays were hard to handle.
Rong Xue nodded and said nothing.
Fu Xizhi bit her lip and mouthed the words to her: Ride. Me.
*
Early the next morning, Fu Xizhi received a WeChat voice message from Bai Xiao: Ahhh! Let me tell you, your goddess went viral! When are you coming to school?
What do you mean viral? I don’t have classes in the morning; I’ll come in the afternoon. Fu Xizhi was half-awake, her thoughts muddled. She forced one eye open; the cherry-blossom pink bedding was messy, her underwear scattered, and the pillow on the other side was empty.
Last night someone recorded a video of her playing the piano and posted it on Douyin. It got over a hundred thousand likes overnight!
So what?
Wow, you don’t feel a sense of crisis at all! This means your goddess is going to be lusted after by even more people. The line of competitors could probably circle the Earth once!
While talking, Fu Xizhi finally woke up a bit more. She asked Bai Xiao to send her the link, hung up the voice call, casually tapped on the video, rolled over, and felt around on the floor for her slippers with her feet.
Rong Xue’s face was flawless from any angle under the camera. The blogger holding the phone had shaky hands, wobbling several times during the short fifteen-second video. Despite that, the comment section below was filled with compliments.
Top comments were along the lines of: Mommy, I originally planned to grow up looking like this, Excuse me, this is my wife; interspersed with private details about Rong Xue’s major.
There were a few suspicious comments making references to hands and kitchen utensils. Just as Fu Xizhi pulled on her slippers and prepared to stand up, a surge of soreness hit that place in the next second. She wobbled a few times and fell onto the bed like a sack of grain.
Last night was too excessive; forcing three fingers left her feeling as if the moisture in her body was almost completely drained.
Fu Xizhi wiggled her fingers and sent an ambitious voice message to Bai Xiao: I’ll rush over to school in a bit!
She rubbed her legs to relax her muscles, spending some time cleaning off the residue on her thighs.
Facing the mirror, Fu Xizhi applied concealer to the dark circles under her eyes, thinking to herself that Rong Xue didn’t have the full self-awareness of a canary. At times, she would deliberately get back at her benefactor, leaving marks of her battle on her body.
The university was located in the downtown area of Hailin City, and the apartment she lived in was just one subway stop away from the school.
Before leaving, Fu Xizhi noticed that the beer stains on the floor were gone, the cigarette butts were back in the trash can, and a paper bag was sitting on the entrance cabinet. Opening it, she found the car key was gone, and a nightgown was lying beside the paper bag.
Inside was a sexy customized nightgown she had included as a bonus along with the car key, black, cutout lace, tied with a loose bow tie, looking like a surprise gift box waiting to be opened.
On top of the nightgown was a sticky note.
Rong Xue’s handwriting was elegant and refined, with two words written on it: Childish.