The black trash bag before her seemed to stretch and claw at the air. In the distorted space, the darkness bled out like ink; the texture of the white fur shifted, turning into a white cotton dress.
In the moment she reached out, the vast expanse of snowy white—like a withered flower—was swallowed by the color of rot and melted into an endless black mist. An oppressive, heavy cold bore down on her. The thick mist coiled around her neck, tighter and tighter, choking her.
Just as she began to suffocate, the black mist constricting her throat was pulled away by a pair of hands. Wen Wanbing breathed deeply, her long lashes trembling. In her hazy, narrowed vision, she glimpsed those hands gently brushing away the stray hairs plastered to her face.
Warmth spread from a palm against her cool cheek. It felt as if they were exchanging body heat.
Wen Wanbing’s mind drifted back to her childhood. During the freezing depths of winter, when her grandfather would lock her out and her hands and feet would go numb, the door to the neighboring courtyard would always open. He Xiuying and Wen Rushui would quietly “pick her up” and take her home.
The firelight would cast a warm yellow glow on the walls. She would huddle with Wen Rushui in He Xiuying’s arms, listening to stories about the movies He Xiuying had snuck peaks at while working at the cinema. Those beautiful love stories seemed capable of washing away all sorrow.
“Wen Zhui-zhui, were you having a nightmare?” Fu Junxue asked. Seeing her squinting, she thought the other woman was awake.
But after a few seconds, Wen Wanbing closed her eyes again. She shifted her body, moving closer to Fu Junxue’s embrace while still maintaining a sliver of distance. Her sleeping posture was very proper: both hands were balled into fists resting beneath her chin, looking as though she were resting her face on the backs of her hands.
She looked like a pitiful puppy that had been brought home and given a single bite of food.
Sometimes, Fu Junxue would think of her own sister when looking at Wen Wanbing, yet she couldn’t bring herself to treat Wen Wanbing like a sister. Perhaps it was because Wen Wanbing possessed a level of stability and restraint that transcended her peers—and even those older than her.
They were very close; the distance between their lips was barely half a fist. In the dim light, the silhouettes were clear. It was as if the only point of brightness in the night was carved out between them.
Fu Junxue reached out, curling her fingers slightly to trace Wen Wanbing’s hair from root to tip. Her path gradually deviated, tracing the sharp line of her jaw, sliding down her slender neck, and coming to a rest on the protrusion of her collarbone.
She loved lines that were “just right”—like the precision of a gemstone’s cut. Every facet formed by the perfect line highlighted its luster and beauty to the fullest. Wen Wanbing was the clearest yet most blurred line she had ever seen. Vividly conspicuous, yet unclearly opaque.
She possessed a unique aura: strong yet fragile, steady yet restless, cold yet vivid, passive yet active. All these contradictory terms fused harmoniously within her. She attracted people, yet kept them at a distance.
Just as her lips were about to touch the other’s, Fu Junxue dropped her hand in disappointment. As she suspected, it only felt right if the other person was awake.
She sat up, fumbled for the air conditioner remote, and raised the temperature by two degrees.
On the small bed, Wen Xing sat up as well. She rubbed her eyes, rolled over, and slid off the bed. Hugging her Doraemon plushie—which was half as big as she was—she walked over to the side of the large bed.
Fu Junxue stared at her in the darkness. After a while, she tried to guess: “Need to use the bathroom?”
Wen Xing nodded.
Fu Junxue got out of bed quietly and led Wen Xing to the bathroom. After they returned, Fu Junxue watched as Wen Xing climbed back into her small bed. She only lay down obediently once Xiao Man jumped up to join her, loosely clutching the cat’s tail.
Xiao Man shifted, pressing his backside against Wen Xing’s face and tucking his paws under his body, letting out a purr that soothed the child. Once Fu Junxue was sure Wen Xing was asleep, she returned to the large bed.
Wen Wanbing’s posture had changed; she was curled up more tightly than when they had left the room. Fu Junxue moved toward her very, very slowly.
The distance narrowed like a close-up shot in a movie. Wen Wanbing seemed affected even by her minimal movements, shifting slightly. Fu Junxue froze instantly.
Strangely, this time Wen Wanbing didn’t maintain a distance after moving closer. Instead, she pressed against her tightly, even wrapping her arms around Fu Junxue. It wasn’t entirely comfortable because of the shared breath, but Wen Wanbing’s body was cool, and Fu Junxue—who tended to run hot—found it pleasant enough.
Fu Junxue stared at the ceiling, her lashes fluttering, and eventually closed her eyes.
In the latter half of the night, she had a fragmented dream. It was like a shattered mirror, pieces scattered across the deep sea, reflecting bizarre and distorted images. Some were good, some were bad, and they cut into her body in a messy jumble. It hurt, yet there were no visible wounds.
Finally, those shards turned into fine bits of ice floating before her, like brilliant gems refracting different lights. She gathered those icy gems and pieced them into a human shape. Under the Tyndall effect of the ocean, the ice gradually melted, slowly revealing Wen Wanbing’s figure.
The curled body unfurled like the white peony on her balcony that had been late to bloom this year. The light falling between them and the surging undercurrents seemed to cut them into two different depths. She was drowning below, without the strength or the breath to float back up.
With an instinctive gasp, Fu Junxue snapped awake.
She preferred sleeping in total darkness, so her curtains were thick, but they hadn’t been closed properly. A sliver of sunlight extended from the floor to her face, making her squint in discomfort.
She turned her head. The side of the bed was empty; Wen Wanbing had already gotten up and left at some point. The pillow and sheets had been smoothed over, looking as though no one else had ever slept there. If it weren’t for Wen Xing being by the bedside, Fu Junxue might have thought everything yesterday was an illusion.
Xiao Man was curled up asleep. Wen Xing, her hair in a small bun held by the repaired shark clip, sat on the small mushroom stool in her school uniform. She rested her chin in her hands, looking at the cat one moment and at Fu Junxue the next.
“Xingxing, where is your auntie?” Fu Junxue sat up, her voice raspy with sleep.
Wen Xing straightened up, her eyes darting as she thought. “Auntie… watching… food… Auntie.”
Fu Junxue rubbed her groggy head, her mind working like rusty gears to figure out what sentence these four words were supposed to form.
“Did your auntie tell you to watch me?” Fu Junxue asked. “Or watch the food?”
“Watch food.” Wen Xing pursed her lips, her small brow furrowing. “Watch Auntie.”
What are you watching exactly? Fu Junxue pondered for a moment, then pointed at herself and offered a logical guess: “Food equals Auntie?”
Wen Xing nodded.
“I am the food?” Fu Junxue asked, trying to organize a full sentence. “Your auntie told you I’m the food and asked you to watch me? What’s going on? I’m not food.”
The sentence was too long and fast for Wen Xing to process. She only remembered the last part and nodded vigorously. “Is food. Eat.”
Fu Junxue was dumbfounded. “…”
Wen Wanbing walked into the room just in time to hear this bizarre logic. “…”
Their gazes met. Wen Wanbing was already in makeup, dressed exactly as she had been during their first meeting: a fitted T-shirt underneath a loose flannel shirt and washed-out jeans. Simple, fresh, and unchanging.
Fu Junxue brushed her long hair back, pointing at Wen Xing and then at herself. “Xingxing says you told her I’m breakfast?”
Her fingertip rested right against her lip. As she moved, one strap of her nightgown slipped from her jade-white shoulder, dangling level with the neckline.
The air conditioner, which Fu Junxue had adjusted during the night, remained at 27°C. It offered almost no cooling effect, and the midsummer morning was already radiating heat.
Wen Wanbing’s deep gaze flickered over, but she retracted it instantly. “Then this breakfast is certainly a bit too… lavish,” she replied. “I ordered an actual breakfast delivery. I had him leave it at the building entrance. You should reset the gate code after we leave. Do you want to eat together?”
“I do.” Fu Junxue’s eyes curved into a smile. She stood up, took a claw clip from the drawer, and gathered all her hair up. “What did you say just now? That I’m a lavish breakfast? What does that mean exactly?”
Teasing someone to their face was difficult; Wen Wanbing’s face flushed as she turned and hurried out of the room.
Fu Junxue watched her retreating back and couldn’t help but laugh. Even though she hadn’t woken up naturally, her mood for the day was excellent.
Wen Wanbing took the breakfast items out of the bags one by one and sat Wen Xing at the table. Just as she opened the lid of the wonton container for the child, her phone rang. It was He Xiuying, asking how the night had gone.
Wen Wanbing thought of the “goodnight kiss” from the night before and the sight of Fu Junxue’s face inches from her own upon waking. After a brief pause, she replied, “It was fine.”
“And Xingxing?” He Xiuying asked worriedly. “She didn’t cause trouble, did she?”
“No.” Wen Wanbing chose not to mention Wen Xing’s emotional meltdown.
“That’s good then.” He Xiuying exhaled in relief and asked, “Are you coming back tonight?”
“Yes.” Wen Wanbing looked up as Fu Junxue finished washing up and emerged from the bathroom. She unclipped her hair, giving her long locks a natural, effortless shake as she walked over, carrying the fresh scent of soap.
Wen Wanbing’s words hitched as Fu Junxue approached. She waited until the other woman reached the table before continuing, “Staying away for too many nights in a row would be counterproductive. Plus, I need to help you pack your bags.”
“Right, right.” He Xiuying agreed. Thinking her daughter was busy, she reminded her not to let Xingxing be late for school and hung up.
Fu Junxue asked casually, “You’re going back to sleep at your place tonight?”
Knowing Fu Junxue had heard the explanation she’d given her mother, Wen Wanbing clarified anyway. “My mom is going on her trip tomorrow. I need to go back and help her pack.”
Fu Junxue nodded in understanding. “Remember to pack your and Xingxing’s bags tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7:00 PM. By the way, Little Xingxing is very attached to Xiao Man. I’m worried that without a cat around, she might become unstable. It just so happens that Pepper always travels with her orange tabby, so I talked to her, and she’s bringing him along. Qi Yue also has a highly obedient retired German Shepherd that she’ll be bringing.”
Wen Wanbing was stunned, a ripple of warmth spreading through her heart. “Thank you. I’m sorry for all the trouble.”
“Given our current relationship, shouldn’t considerate care be expected?” Fu Junxue smiled. “Being too polite makes us seem like strangers.”
Wen Wanbing lowered her gaze, her voice returning to an almost cold, detached calm. “Considerate care is expected during the ‘honeymoon phase.’ Once feelings fade, it just becomes a list of old debts to hold against each other.”
Fu Junxue arched an eyebrow. She was surprised that Wen Wanbing, despite being a “blank slate” in terms of romantic history, was already tinged with such cynicism. Yet, she found it hard to disagree.
“Why think that way?”
“Is it not the case?” Wen Wanbing countered.
From the time she was old enough to remember, that was all she had seen. People were so generous when they were giving—so generous it looked like deep love. But once the feelings withered, the way they threw those “debts” back in each other’s faces to demand repayment was terrifying.
“And are you that kind of person?” Fu Junxue pulled out a chair and sat down, turning the question back on her.
Wen Wanbing had been born of such people. She didn’t know if she would eventually become like them. She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no either. She simply said, “I don’t want to become that kind of person.”
“That’s enough then,” Fu Junxue said. “At least if you don’t want to, you’ll work hard not to become one.”
The living room lights weren’t on, leaving the area in a soft dimness. Even without makeup, Fu Junxue’s face remained exquisite and radiant. She wasn’t wearing her trademark smile; she looked composed and quiet, lost in thought. She looked like the roses on her balcony—vibrant and magnificent, yet with a velvety texture that added a touch of somber decadence.
Wen Xing was currently clutching a spoon to scoop a wonton, but she missed, and the wonton skipped out of the bowl and across the table. Wen Wanbing picked it up, placed it on a napkin, and wiped the table. Taking the opportunity to change the subject, she said, “Let’s eat.”
Fu Junxue snapped out of her thoughts and looked at the spread. She let out a laugh and exaggerated her amazement. “The real breakfast is this lavish too?”
There was soy milk, deep-fried dough sticks, tea eggs, wontons, rice congee, sandwiches, and even spicy soup and tofu pudding.
“I didn’t know what you liked—sweet, spicy, salty, or light,” Wen Wanbing explained. “So I just ordered a portion of everything we usually eat.”
“I’m not a picky eater,” Fu Junxue said, choosing the soy milk and tofu pudding. “But I do prefer spicy.”
“I’ll remember that.” Wen Wanbing nodded and quickly typed something on her phone.
Fu Junxue poked her straw into the soy milk and peeked at the phone. It was a memo app. She saw numbers—her own birthday.
“Are you taking notes?” Fu Junxue asked, uncertain.
Wen Wanbing nodded, perfectly serious. “A blunt pencil is better than a sharp memory.”
“…” Fu Junxue took a sip of the tofu pudding. It was hot enough to scald her heart. It felt… strange. “Can I see?”
Since the notes were about her, Wen Wanbing didn’t hide them and handed over the phone.
Nickname: [Snowflake] Pet name: Junjun Birthday: December 7th Hobbies: Diving, camping, traveling, fitness. Possibly gardening (likely a ‘visual’ person, likes complex, vibrant flowers). Sensitivities: Hates heat, loves cold. Keeps AC very low. Diving is chilling—remind her to stay warm. (Prepare ginger candy and ginger soup powder). Hydration: Drinks a lot of water (prepare warm water). Temper: Bites when angry. Diet: Worries about weight; avoids greasy food (e.g., pork belly, pig’s trotters). Grapes: Dislikes peeling them (suspect laziness/hates trouble). Style: Likes jewelry (especially gems). Scent: Roses. Toothpaste: White peach. Lipstick preference: Rotten tomato shades. Colors: Red, Blue, Green (Wait, why is her toothbrush white?). Food preference: Spicy (Note: Watch diet during ‘special’ times of the month).
Fu Junxue clicked her tongue. Wen Wanbing misunderstood the sound and said, “I haven’t recorded much. If anything is wrong, you can correct it, or add anything you want to include.”
“I’m starting to envy your future partner. You’re studying so hard to be the ‘Dream Alpha’.” Fu Junxue held up the phone and sourly added a title to the note.
“No need to be envious,” Wen Wanbing said softly. “This belongs to you.”
She even felt there wouldn’t be anyone else. Paying for this relationship was the most outrageous thing she had done in her twenty-four years. And her partner, Fu Junxue, was the most stunning person she had encountered in those twenty-four years. No matter who she met in the future, she would likely compare them to Fu Junxue—and she felt the chances of anyone comparing to a “professional lover” like her were slim to none.
Fu Junxue took a sip of the soy milk, her eyes fixed on the birthday date. The soy milk was freshly pressed and rich, but it had no sugar and was slightly grainy.
It’s mine now, but it will be someone else’s later.
“My birthday is in December,” Fu Junxue said. “Our agreement will have expired by then. Will you still spend it with me?”
Wen Wanbing lowered her head, swallowing a spoonful of plain congee. “If you need me to.”
It wasn’t a definitive “yes,” but it wasn’t an outright refusal either. She stood in the active position but chose a passive option.
Fu Junxue’s lips curled. “What if I just don’t say whether I need you or not?”
“Then will you spend my birthday with me?” Wen Wanbing asked.
Fu Junxue sucked on her straw, watching her with interest, giving her a taste of her own medicine. “If you need me to.”
“If you need me, then I need you too,” Wen Wanbing countered, deflecting the pressure skillfully.
In a game of push-and-pull, someone eventually has to let go to determine a winner before the next round can begin. Otherwise, a stalemate becomes boring.
Fu Junxue tapped on the phone and finally conceded. “Oh, well, I actually need it quite a lot. So it’s a deal? You have to spend my birthday with me. What happens if you break your word?”
“I’ll let you bite me,” Wen Wanbing said quickly, biting her spoon.
Beside them, Wen Xing scooped up a wonton, stared at it for a moment, and provided a live sound effect: “Aww-nom!”
Wen Wanbing’s face turned bright red.
Fu Junxue burst into delighted laughter. “A single bite wouldn’t be enough to satisfy me.”
“It would take many bites,” she added, spinning the phone and sliding it back to Wen Wanbing. Her voice was meaningful. “After this birthday, I’ll be 28. If you break your promise, I’ll bite you 28 times.”
“…You’re like a dog.”
Wen Wanbing thought irrelevantly that her ears might not survive that. She looked down at the screen. At the top, a title had been added: [Fu Junjun’s Exclusive].
And at the very end, three words had been added: [Goodnight Kiss].
The next time she saw Fu Junxue was Friday afternoon, just after 6:00 PM.
Wen Wanbing had already finished packing and was styling Wen Xing’s hair after her bath. Fu Junxue arrived nearly an hour earlier than expected. When Wen Wanbing opened the door, the first thing she saw was a pot of roses.
They were the same roses she had seen on Fu Junxue’s balcony the day before, with petals like velvet. Before leaving that day, Wen Wanbing had asked what they were called.
“Black Baccara,” Fu Junxue had said. “Do you like them?”
Wen Wanbing didn’t usually feel much for plants. “I think they look like you,” she had replied.
She hadn’t expected Fu Junxue to bring a whole pot over today. “Here. Think of the flower as me. Take good care of it.”
Wen Wanbing accepted the flowers in a daze and placed them on her bedroom balcony. “I thought you were picking us up at seven?”
“I was afraid you’d forget something, so I came early to help you check.” Fu Junxue sat where Wen Wanbing had been sitting and picked up a strand of Wen Xing’s loose hair. “Shall Auntie Junjun braid your hair?”
Wen Xing was currently in a state of ritualistic behavior, spinning her Doraemon thermos, and didn’t speak. Fu Junxue braided her hair anyway.
“…” Wen Wanbing came out of the room and looked at Wen Xing’s head full of tiny braids tied with different colored bands. “You’re the one taking those out tonight.”
“These are dreadlocks; you don’t have to take them out.” Seeing Wen Wanbing’s speechless expression, Fu Junxue’s lips curved into a sly arc. “Where are the bags? Let me check them.”
Without thinking, Wen Wanbing laid her suitcase flat on the floor and opened it.
Fu Junxue reached into the suitcase, pulled out the bag containing Wen Wanbing’s underwear, opened it, and peeked inside. “By the way,” she mused, “they’re all the same color. Can you even tell them apart?”
“What?” Wen Wanbing was confused.
Fu Junxue pointed into the suitcase, then looked up and held Wen Wanbing’s gaze for a long moment. Then, acting as if she had just realized something, she let out an “Ah,” covered her mouth, and whispered, “Sorry. The other day… I accidentally saw everything.”
Wen Wanbing’s memory of that day flashed back instantly. She had thought Fu Junxue hadn’t seen a thing. As it turned out, she had seen everything.
In a flash, Wen Wanbing’s face turned crimson. She felt like she was one sprinkle of chili flakes away from being fully cooked.
In the next second, Fu Junxue threw the chili flakes.
“Don’t be shy. How about this? To be fair, I’ll let you see mine too.”