Chapter 31

Shang Zhitao woke up on the incredibly comfortable bed in Luan Nian’s home, seeing the sliver of sunlight filtering through the curtains and guessing it might already be afternoon. She lay dazed for a moment before getting up and heading to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet for a long time but didn’t manage to relieve herself. In the end, she just wasn’t used to it. Silently, she praised her bladder—truly a bladder capable of great things. After washing her face, rinsing her mouth, putting on her clothes, and tidying the bed, she left a note on the pillow and quietly slipped out the door.

She hadn’t removed her contact lenses last night, and now her eyes felt dry and gritty. She didn’t dare blink, only allowing herself a cautious flutter when the wind blew, afraid her lenses might slip out. Standing at the entrance of Luan Nian’s residential complex to hail a taxi, she noticed the security guard stealing glances at her. He probably thought this girl didn’t look like someone in a questionable profession, but residents of this complex wouldn’t walk out to the gate to flag down a cab themselves. Shang Zhitao gave the guard a friendly smile.

The autumn afternoon sunlight was gentle and clear, utterly satisfying. Except for the wind—why did Beijing’s autumn have to blow such persistent gusts? Watching the trees along the street swaying in the wind, she thought of herself, clinging to Luan Nian’s body like those unsteady trees.

Xin Zhaozhou also brought her joy, but the happiness they gave her wasn’t the same. Xin Zhaozhou always asked her, “Is this okay? Here? Does it feel good?” He constantly cared about her feelings. Luan Nian didn’t. He didn’t ask; he took complete control, not even particularly gentle, yet it drove her wild.

Shang Zhitao found herself strange. She thought she’d be tormented by guilt—like, “How could you have a one-night stand? How could you have sex without love?” But she wasn’t. So I’m this open-minded after all! she quietly defined herself.

Sitting in the taxi, seeing the trees flash by outside made her think of Luan Nian; seeing the clouds in the sky made her think of him too. Luan Nian was too dazzling. In her twenty-two years, Shang Zhitao had never met anyone like him. She was full of curiosity about him and drawn to him.

Getting out of the taxi, she ran back home and saw Sun Yu sitting on the sofa, beckoning her with a finger. Blushing, she hurried to her room and changed into a high-collared shirt. Sun Yu followed her in, closed the door, and sat on her bed, looking at her with keen interest. “Care to explain what you were up to last night?”

Shang Zhitao pressed her lips together and said nothing, sitting down beside Sun Yu. No matter how high the collar, it couldn’t hide the two or three marks on her neck. Sharp-eyed, Sun Yu tugged at her collar with a finger. “Oh my, are you in love?”

Shang Zhitao quickly shook her head. “I’m not in love.”

“Then what’s this about?”

Shang Zhitao didn’t know how to explain it. Sun Yu would surely laugh at her moral decay. But Sun Yu wouldn’t let it go, pinching her cheek. “Spill it!” The joy of girls was just that simple—being able to sit together and gossip about something was happiness, especially when it involved one of their own romantic histories.

“It’s the boss I told you about, the one who wanted me to resign,” Shang Zhitao finally confessed. She still seemed caught in the atmosphere of last night, blushing again at the thought of Luan Nian. She had other friends later on, but she had only ever spoken of Luan Nian to Sun Yu, not even mentioning him to Yao Bei. For some reason, she trusted Sun Yu, and Sun Yu, in turn, fiercely guarded her secrets, becoming the sole outlet for Shang Zhitao’s feelings about Luan Nian.

“You slept with your boss? Slept with the boss who wanted you to resign?”

"It was an accident." Shang Zhitao finally settled on her explanation: an accident. If one day in the future she ever spoke of it with someone, she could say: I had an accident back then too.

"Was it really an accident or was it premeditated? I know you were definitely an accident, but was your boss an accident too?" Sun Yu refused to believe it. Many things between men and women seem like accidents on the surface, but are actually premeditated. In Sun Yu's view, her naive roommate had been "premeditated" by her boss.

"Probably not..." Shang Zhitao flatly denied it. It was definitely an accident. What kind of person was Luan Nian? He had never even looked at her properly, how could it be premeditated?

"Alright, alright, that's not important. What matters is..." Sun Yu lowered her voice: "How was it?"

When Sun Yu asked how it was, Shang Zhitao remembered again how Luan Nian's sweat dripped onto her cheek, how he lowered his head to lick it away, and then delivered that salty dampness to the tip of her tongue.

"No need to answer, I already know." Sun Yu laughed out loud: "Our little Tao Tao was thoroughly satisfied last night."

"Was it wrong of me to do this?" Shang Zhitao asked her.

"What's right or wrong? As long as you're happy." Sun Yu patted Shang Zhitao's shoulder: "Let me tell you, at my old company, there were a few colleagues who had regular sex partners."

"What's the difference between a regular sex partner and being in a relationship?" Shang Zhitao didn't quite understand.

Seeing her confused expression, Sun Yu burst out laughing: "You, you... Regular sex partners only fulfill needs, no emotional investment is required. Because relationships are troublesome, and everyone is so busy, so having someone like that saves a lot of hassle."

"Oh."

Shang Zhitao hadn't slept enough, she was feeling a bit drowsy. She yawned and collapsed onto the bed, remembering she had an English lesson scheduled with Long Zhentian that evening, so she covered herself with the blanket to catch up on sleep. As soon as she closed her eyes, it was Luan Nian—his breath against her ear bone, such a cold person, yet when intimate, he liked to kiss, his palm against her neck, the space between his thumb and index finger against her chin, his thumb and forefinger pinching her face, pulling her toward him, kissing her fiercely. Such thin, unfeeling lips, yet when kissing, they were scorching hot.

Shang Zhitao thought: I'm done for, I think I'm a bit addicted.

She jumped off the bed, ran to Sun Yu's room, and asked her seriously: "Have you ever been addicted? When you were with your ex-boyfriend."

"Huh?"

"It's like closing your eyes and seeing him, wanting to do something with him."

"Of course." Sun Yu giggled: "Shang Zhitao, you're done for. Want me to give you an idea?"

"What?"

"Ask your boss if he wants to be your regular sex partner."

"No."

Shang Zhitao ran back to her room, feeling like she was done for. When she first had physical intimacy with Xin Zhaozhou, she didn't like it because she always felt it was strange. It was one night, in a small house in the countryside, Xin Zhaozhou spent a long time kissing her—gentle, lingering—and it was then that she felt it was actually quite nice. But back then, Xin Zhaozhou was right beside her, at the same school, they spent every day together, sneaking out on weekends. Shang Zhitao didn't need to be addicted because Xin Zhaozhou was right there.

She got up in the evening. She had made plans with Long Zhentian to practice speaking. Even though she had thought of Luan Nian's wonderful body countless times that day, by evening she had forgotten about him again, going to do what she had planned.

She met Long Zhentian by the Houhai lake, where he chatted with her at a slow pace. Whenever Shang Zhitao encountered words she didn’t understand, she would interrupt him and ask for clarification. Long Zhentian told her that the reason he came to China was because he liked girls who wore qipaos. The qipao was the most beautiful garment in the world, and only Chinese girls could wear it with such grace. He even asked Shang Zhitao, “Have you ever worn one?”

Shang Zhitao thought for a moment and asked Long Zhentian, “Does being an event hostess count?”

Of course she had worn one! In her freshman year, she was dragged into being an event hostess for a club activity. Wearing a satin qipao and holding a small tray filled with name cards, she looked utterly ridiculous.

Long Zhentian, a tall and radiant foreigner, and Shang Zhitao, a sweet and lovely Chinese girl, walking together inevitably sparked imaginations. Shang Zhitao could even decipher the meaning in the glances of passersby: another one scheming to marry a foreigner.

“So how do you translate that sentence just now?” Shang Zhitao asked.

“In your Chinese, it means: Experience is the best teacher,” Long Zhentian patiently replied.

“Oh, thank you.” Shang Zhitao always carried a voice recorder with her. On her way back after each meeting with Long Zhentian, she would listen to their conversations twice more. Long Zhentian was an exceptionally good teacher—patient and friendly. When he corrected her accent, he did it so endearingly: “Oh~ your accent could fit right in in England.”

At first, Shang Zhitao felt embarrassed, but later she thought it didn’t matter: I’m learning! If I already knew everything, why would I need to learn? It’s precisely because I don’t know that I’m learning!

With this mindset, she let go of her pride.

After graduation, Shang Zhitao suddenly developed a genuine love for learning. She began to find learning truly interesting, with knowledge as boundless as the universe, vast and endless. Whenever she realized she had made even a little progress, she felt happy. She would share this with Yao Bei, Sun Yu, and Lumi, saying, “After I finish learning English, I want to learn French and Japanese.”

Everyone thought she was just talking, but she wasn’t. Like today, no matter what had happened the day before, whether she was tired or upset, she would meet Long Zhentian as scheduled. They would talk about everything under the sun, and amidst the laughter and conversation, the world gradually opened up in Shang Zhitao’s eyes—a world full of novelty.

After bidding farewell to Long Zhentian, on her way back on the subway, she recalled Sun Yu’s words: “You could be his regular sexual partner. That would save a lot of trouble and solve the problem.”

Shang Zhitao confronted her own desires. She typed and deleted, deleted and typed again on her phone, and finally sent a message to Luan Nian: “Luke, can we be regular sexual partners?”

Looking back on her younger self, Shang Zhitao couldn’t explain why she had done such a thing or why she had sent that message to Luan Nian. At the time, she thought she was being brave, but later she realized it was nothing but absurdity. With such a beginning, what good outcome could there possibly be?

Why do people always do such foolish things when they’re young, as if foolishness comes without any cost?

Luan Nian was drinking with Tan Mian when his phone lit up with a message from Shang Zhitao. His brows furrowed involuntarily. He felt that Shang Zhitao seemed to have found a way out for herself, even suspecting she might be willing to sell her body. Or perhaps, beneath her obedient exterior, she harbored a heart that was always itching to run wild.

She might also have overestimated her performance in bed, though he admitted it was quite good. Luan Nian despised transactions, and he felt Shang Zhitao was trying to make one with him.

He said to her, "Sorry, yesterday was an accident."

"Anything a man says while dopamine is flowing can be taken as hot air. If anything I said made you misunderstand, I apologize." Luan Nian’s words were always this cutting.

Shang Zhitao put away her phone, her fingertips trembling slightly. She knew she had overthought it. Luan Nian’s words last night—"Whenever you want, it’s fine"—were exactly as he described: what a man says with his pants off doesn’t count; what matters is how he thinks when he’s sober. Sober Luan Nian wouldn’t even glance her way, so last night could simply be chalked up to his "drunken indiscretion."

So what? I didn’t lose out. Finding a gigolo like Luan Nian would probably cost a lot, but I didn’t spend a cent. I’m really something. Shang Zhitao mocked herself.

That night, she slept soundly, putting Luan Nian out of her mind.