The sky outside had begun to turn pale as the deepest dark of night faded bit by bit into a grayish tone, hovering somewhere between night and early morning.
Lying on her bed and staring up at the ceiling, Bai Yue still felt her heartbeat steadying.
The person beside her lay on her side with her back turned, exposing the upper half of her bare shoulder and neck. Fresh marks rested against her skin, left by Bai Yue just moments ago.
Watching for a moment, Bai Yue sat up. She stepped barefoot out of bed, walked into the dressing room, pulled two items from the very back of a drawer, and walked back to the bed.
Standing there, she looked down at the woman on the bed.
Jiang Manru kept her eyes closed and remained completely still.
Yet Bai Yue knew she was not asleep.
Curving the corners of her lips, Bai Yue tossed the two items onto the bed.
A soft thud sounded.
Jiang Manru’s eyelashes fluttered before she opened her eyes, gazing at the two objects resting before her: two folded hundred-yuan banknotes, and a silver badge with slightly worn edges, carved on its surface with an abstract bird spreading a single wing.
She stared for a moment before reaching out to pick up the banknotes, turning them over in her hands.
“You kept these?” she asked, her voice slightly raspy from the recent intensity.
“Of course.” Bai Yue sat down on the edge of the bed. “This is the evidence of how I was propositioned.”
Amused by her words, Jiang Manru chuckled. She set the banknotes down, picked up the badge, and twirled it between her fingertips.
“You humiliated me with two hundred yuan back then, did you really want never to see me again?” Bai Yue shifted closer to Jiang Manru, leaning down to ask close to her face.
Instead of answering immediately, Jiang Manru stared at the ceiling for a long time before replying, “I do not know.”
Frowning, Bai Yue asked, “You do not know?”
“Mmm.” Jiang Manru turned her head to look at Bai Yue. “Because I saw you that very night.”
Startled for a second, Bai Yue quickly realized she was referring to their blind date.
“I walked into the private room and saw you sitting there,” Jiang Manru said softly. “Dressed up properly, sitting straight with a serious expression. When I walked in, you stood up and even helped me pull out my chair.”
She smiled.
“I thought to myself back then, this person really knows how to put on an act.”
Gazing at her, Bai Yue pressed further. “So, if it had not been for the blind date, you never planned to see me again?”
“Probably.” She paused. “But seeing you sitting there acting all proper, I knew right away there was no need to wonder anymore. Fate had already arranged everything for me.”
Silent for a few seconds, Bai Yue reached out and pulled Jiang Manru into her arms.
“So,” Bai Yue looked down at her, “we are bound by destined fate.”
Pressing her face against Bai Yue’s chest, Jiang Manru said nothing more, merely leaning against her with her heart entirely undisturbed.
It wasn’t that she didn’t believe it; she simply didn’t take it seriously. She knew all too well what kind of person Bai Yue was. Very few words spoken after moments of passion held any truth.
Following that night, life turned out far calmer than Bai Yue expected, or rather, it felt so normal that it seemed as though nothing had ever happened.
Every morning, Jiang Manru made her breakfast and asked what she wanted to eat that day. When she came home from work in the evening, dinner was already laid out on the table, and the soup was still steaming.
After dinner, Jiang Manru washed the dishes while Bai Yue went to the study to handle documents. Around eleven o’clock, the two of them would lie down together, exchange a few trivial remarks, and turn off the lights.
Sometimes they were intimate, usually initiated by Jiang Manru. But it wasn’t the kind of burning, passionate initiative; rather, it was precise and measured, carried out like completing a routine chore.
She would lean over, rest her hand on Bai Yue’s waist, and press her lips against her neck. Bai Yue would respond, intertwining with her until they both sank together into the night.
Once it was over, Jiang Manru would roll over, turn her back, and fall asleep almost immediately.
Lying in the darkness, Bai Yue would stare at that retreating back, always feeling like something was amiss, though she couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
The first time she truly sensed something was wrong happened on a day she came home early from work. Pushing open the bedroom door, she found Jiang Manru standing in front of the wardrobe changing her clothes.
She had just finished showering, her hair still damp with water droplets trailing down the ends to dampen the shoulder straps of her slip dress. The silky champagne-colored dress shimmered softly in the twilight sun.
With her back to the door, she was reaching up to grab something from the top shelf of the wardrobe. That movement hitched the hem of her dress up slightly, exposing a small patch of skin behind her knees, delicate and pink, still carrying the warm, steamy breath of a fresh bath.
Standing in the doorway without making a sound, Bai Yue simply watched. She watched her stand on tiptoe, a stray damp strand of hair slipping from her shoulder as she turned her head slightly.
Sensing something, Jiang Manru turned back. Seeing Bai Yue, she froze for a fraction of a second before breaking into a smile.
That smile was identical to the one she saw every day. Gentle, obedient, and endearing.
“So early today?” she asked.
With a hum, Bai Yue walked up behind Jiang Manru, wrapped her arms around her from behind, rested her chin on her shoulder, and breathed in the pure scent of white peach left behind now that the disguise was shed.
“I missed you,” Bai Yue said.
Sensing the person in her arms move slightly, Jiang Manru turned to face her, looped her arms around her neck, and naturally leaned in to kiss her. Her lips were soft, the temperature just right, and even the timing of her tongue sliding past was faultless.
Bai Yue responded, sliding her hand down from her waist to feel the curve of her hip through the thin layer of silk fabric.
Everything seemed fine, just like always.
Yet mid-kiss, Bai Yue suddenly stopped. She noticed that Jiang Manru’s eyes were wide open. Those amber eyes were right in front of her, close enough to see her own reflection in her pupils.
Within those eyes, there was no desire, no haze, no watery gloss born of passion. There was only the calm detachment of someone watching a performance, or perhaps someone counting down the seconds until the kiss ended.
Releasing her, Bai Yue took half a step back.
Tilting her head, Jiang Manru asked, “What is wrong?”
Staring at her for a long time, Bai Yue finally answered, “Nothing.”
That night in bed, she kept thinking about that gaze.
Turning her head, Bai Yue gazed at that back, the same image replaying over and over in her mind: a long time ago, she used to wear that exact same look herself.
When she was acting out a scene with Omegas who left her feeling nothing much, the person beneath her would burn with passion while she played along, feigning being conquered. Yet she alone knew her own eyes were wide open.
Acting with investment, acting realistically, making the other person believe she was deeply moved. Once the act was over, she would roll over, turn her back to them, and wait for her breathing to steady, thinking to herself that she had finally fulfilled her duty.
Was Jiang Manru thinking those same things right now?
Bai Yue did not know.
Staring at that back, she watched for a very long time.
Moonlight crept slowly across her shoulder.
As for her, she lay awake all night.
Over the next few days, that strange sensation grew increasingly distinct.
Bai Yue began noticing details she had previously overlooked. For instance, Jiang Manru’s initiatives always happened at precise times.
One night when she worked overtime until midnight, she pushed open the bedroom door to find Jiang Manru still awake. The bedside lamp was on as she sat propped up against the headboard reading a book, lifting her head at the sound of movement.
“You are back?”
“Mmm.”
Bai Yue went to take a shower.
Emerging afterward, she lay down in bed.
The moment she closed her eyes, she felt the person beside her draw close, pressing her warm body against her back, wrapping her arms around her waist, and pressing her lips to the back of her neck.
Opening her eyes, Bai Yue stared into the darkness ahead. She desperately wanted to ask: Are you waiting for me to come back, or are you just waiting for the scheduled time to perform?
Instead, she remained silent, turning around to respond to her.
Another instance happened when she came home in a foul mood after blowing up during a meeting, her expression remaining dark throughout the evening.
After dinner, she sat in the living room staring blankly.
Finishing the dishes, Jiang Manru walked out and sat down beside her. Without a word, she simply leaned closer, resting her hand on Bai Yue’s thigh.
After a moment, she spoke up. “Would you like to turn in early?”
Bai Yue looked at her. Concern filled those eyes, yet she couldn’t tell if that concern was genuine or merely the fulfillment of a wife’s obligation.
“Alright,” she said.
They were intimate that night as well.
At times, even when nothing out of the ordinary happened and it was just an ordinary day of work, eating, and watching television, Bai Yue would assume they were simply going to sleep when they got into bed, yet Jiang Manru would still lean in.
Closing her eyes, Bai Yue wondered to herself: What day is this?
She couldn’t remember.
Yet she knew one thing: every single time, it was Jiang Manru who initiated it.
Without a single exception.
On an ordinary Saturday afternoon while Bai Yue was working on documents in the study, she stood up to get a glass of water. Passing through the living room, she noticed Jiang Manru’s phone lying on the sofa.
The screen lit up.
A message notification flashed.
The sender was an unassigned number.
[Are you free tonight? Same place.]
Bai Yue’s footsteps halted. Staring at those words, her heartbeat quickened a beat.
Same place.
What place?
Standing there, she stared for a long time.
At that moment, Jiang Manru walked down the stairs and froze upon seeing Bai Yue standing in the living room staring at her phone.
“Checking my phone?” Walking over, she picked up the device, glanced at the message, and showed no change in expression.
“A friend,” she said casually. “Inviting me out for drinks.”
Bai Yue looked at her. “Are you going?”
Pondering the question with genuine thought, Jiang Manru looked up and solicited Bai Yue’s opinion. “Do you want me to go?”
Bai Yue said nothing.
“Just kidding.” Jiang Manru smiled, tossing the phone back onto the sofa. “I am not going.”
Taking a couple of steps away, she turned back.
“What would you like for dinner?”
Her face displayed zero abnormality, as though that message had merely been a piece of spam.
“Whatever,” Bai Yue said.
Nodding, Jiang Manru headed into the bedroom.
Bai Yue stood frozen in place. The thought in her mind grew clearer and clearer: If she hadn’t seen it just now, would she have gone? Who was she going to meet? And where was that same place?