Chapter 31: A Cold-Hearted Man

Shang Zhitao woke up on the incredibly comfortable bed in Luan Nian’s house, seeing a ray of sunlight filtering through the curtains and guessing it might already be afternoon. She sat still for a moment before getting up and heading to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet for a long time, but nothing came out. In the end, she wasn’t used to it. Silently praising her bladder for being able to handle such an important task, she washed her face, brushed her teeth, put on her clothes, made the bed, left a note on the pillow, and quietly slipped out the door.

She hadn’t taken off her contact lenses the night before, so her eyes were dry now, and she didn’t dare blink. She carefully blinked once, fearing the lenses would pop out, and stood at the entrance of Luan Nian’s compound trying to hail a taxi. The security guard secretly watched her, thinking this girl didn’t look like someone in a “special profession,” but residents of this compound wouldn’t usually walk to the entrance to hail a cab themselves. Shang Zhitao smiled politely at the guard.

The autumn afternoon sun was gentle and clear, pleasing to the eye. Except for the wind—why did Beijing’s autumn have to have such enduring winds? Watching the trees by the street sway in the wind, she thought of herself clinging to Luan Nian’s body, like a tree that couldn’t stand firm.

Xin Zhaozhou had brought her joy too, but their pleasures were not the same. Xin Zhaozhou always asked, “Is it like this? Is it here? Is it good?” He constantly cared about her feelings; Luan Nian did not. He didn’t ask; he completely dominated, barely showing any tenderness, yet he drove her wild.

Shang Zhitao felt strange about herself. She thought she would feel guilty, plagued by questions like, “How could you have a one-night stand? How could you have sex without love?” But she didn’t. So I’m this open-minded! She quietly labeled herself.

Sitting in the taxi, seeing a tree flash by on the side of the street reminded her of Luan Nian; seeing clouds in the sky reminded her of him too. Luan Nian was so dazzling. In her twenty-two years, Shang Zhitao had never met anyone like him. She was curious about him and drawn to him.

She got out of the taxi and ran home, where she saw Sun Yu sitting on the sofa, beckoning her with a finger. Her face flushed as she ran back into her room and changed into a high-necked shirt. Sun Yu followed her in, closed the door, sat on her bed, and watched her with great interest: “Care to explain what you did last night?”

Shang Zhitao pursed her lips and remained silent, sitting next to Sun Yu. No matter how high the collar, it couldn’t hide the few marks on her neck. Sun Yu’s sharp eyes spotted them, and she tugged at Shang Zhitao’s collar: “Oh my, are you in love?”

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

“Then what’s going on?”

Shang Zhitao didn’t know how to explain it. Sun Yu would probably laugh at her for being morally corrupt. But Sun Yu persisted, pinching her cheek: “Spill it!” Girls’ happiness was so simple; they could sit together and gossip, especially when sharing one person’s romantic history.

“It’s the boss who told me to resign.” Shang Zhitao finally spoke. She seemed to still be caught in the atmosphere of last night, blushing whenever she thought of Luan Nian. Later, she had other friends, but she only talked to Sun Yu about Luan Nian, not even mentioning him to Yao Bei. For some reason, she trusted Sun Yu, and Sun Yu kept her secrets tightly guarded, becoming the sole outlet for Shang Zhitao’s emotions regarding Luan Nian.

“You slept with your boss? The boss who made you resign?”

“It was an accident.” Shang Zhitao finally settled on an explanation: an accident. If one day people asked, she could say, “I had an accident once.”

“Was it really an accident or premeditated? I know you must have had an accident, but did your boss also have an accident?” Sun Yu refused to believe her. Many things between men and women seemed accidental but were actually premeditated. In Sun Yu’s eyes, her innocent roommate had been “premeditated” by her boss.

“It definitely wasn’t…” Shang Zhitao denied it outright. It was definitely an accident. What kind of person was Luan Nian? He had never given her a second glance, so how could it be premeditated?

“Alright, alright, that’s not important. What’s important is…” Sun Yu lowered her voice: “How was it?”

When Sun Yu asked how it was, Shang Zhitao recalled Luan Nian’s sweat dripping onto her cheek, him leaning down to lick it away, then delivering the salty taste to her tongue.

“No need to answer. I get it.” Sun Yu laughed: “Our little Tao Tao had a thoroughly enjoyable night.”

“Was it wrong for me to do this?” Shang Zhitao asked her.

“Where’s right or wrong? As long as you’re happy.” Sun Yu patted Shang Zhitao’s shoulder: “Let me tell you, there were a few colleagues at my previous company who had fixed sexual partners.”

“What’s the difference between having a fixed sexual partner and being in a relationship?” Shang Zhitao didn’t quite understand.

Seeing her puzzled expression, Sun Yu burst out laughing: “You… Fixed sexual partners just solve needs without involving emotions. Because dating is troublesome, and everyone’s busy, having someone like that can save a lot of trouble.”

“Oh.”

Shang Zhitao hadn’t slept enough. She was a bit tired, yawned, and fell onto the bed. Remembering she had English class with Long Zhentian that evening, she covered herself with the blanket to catch up on sleep. Closing her eyes, all she could see was Luan Nian, his breath against her earbone. That cold man liked to kiss during intimacy, his palm on her neck, his thumb and index finger pinching her face, pulling her towards him, kissing her fiercely. Those thin-lipped kisses burned when they touched her.

Shang Zhitao thought: I’m done for, I think I’m getting addicted.

She jumped off the bed and ran into Sun Yu’s room, seriously asking her: “Have you ever been addicted? When you were with your ex-boyfriend?”

“Hmm?”

“Like, when you close your eyes, all you see is him, wanting to do something with him.”

“Of course.” Sun Yu giggled: “Shang Zhitao, you’re done for. Or should I give you an idea?”

“What?”

“Ask your boss if he wants to be your fixed sexual partner.”

“No.”

Shang Zhitao ran back to her room, feeling doomed. At first, when she had physical intimacy with Xin Zhaozhou, she didn’t like it because it felt strange. One night, they were in a small house in the countryside, and Xin Zhaozhou spent a long time kissing her—gentle, lingering kisses. That was when she realized it was actually nice. But Xin Zhaozhou was always around, in the same school, spending every day together, sneaking out on weekends. Shang Zhitao didn’t need to be addicted because Xin Zhaozhou was always there.

She got up in the evening, scheduled to practice oral English with Long Zhentian. Despite thinking of Luan Nian’s beautiful body countless times that day, by evening she had forgotten him and went ahead with her planned activities.

They met by Houhai Lake. Long Zhentian chatted with her slowly. Whenever Shang Zhitao encountered an unfamiliar word, she would interrupt and ask him. Long Zhentian told her he came to China because he loved girls in cheongsams. Cheongsams were the most beautiful clothing, and only Chinese girls could wear them with grace. He even asked Shang Zhitao: “Have you ever worn one?”

Shang Zhitao thought for a moment and asked Long Zhentian: “Does being a formal event hostess count?” Hadn’t she worn one? During her freshman year, she was pulled to be an event hostess for a club activity, wearing a satin mini-cheongsam and holding a small tray with business cards—it was hilarious.

Long Zhentian, a tall, sunny foreigner, and Shang Zhitao, a cute and obedient Chinese girl, walking together naturally sparked imaginations. Shang Zhitao could even read the meaning in passersby’s gazes: another scheming girl trying to marry a foreigner.

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

“In your Chinese, it means: Experience makes perfect.” Long Zhentian patiently answered.

“Oh, oh, thank you.” Shang Zhitao always carried a recording pen. After each meeting with Long Zhentian, she would listen to their conversation twice more on her way back. Long Zhentian was an excellent teacher—patient and friendly. When correcting Shang Zhitao’s accent, he was adorable: “Oh～ Your intonation makes you ready to live in England.”

At first, Shang Zhitao felt embarrassed, but later she didn’t care: I’m learning! If I knew everything, why would I need to learn? I study because I don’t know!

Thinking this way, she let go of her pride.

After graduation, Shang Zhitao suddenly truly fell in love with learning. She started to find it interesting—knowledge was endless, like the universe, vast as the sea. Every time she realized she’d improved a little, she was delighted. She would share 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 happened the day before, no matter how tired or sad she was, she would meet Long Zhentian as scheduled. They talked about everything under the sun, and in these joyful conversations, the world gradually opened up before Shang Zhitao—a novel world.

After parting with Long Zhentian, on the subway ride home, she remembered Sun Yu’s words: “You could be his fixed sexual partner. It saves a lot of trouble and solves problems.”

Shang Zhitao confronted her desires. She typed and deleted a message on her phone several times before finally sending one to Luan Nian: “Luke, can we be fixed sexual partners?”

Later, recalling this moment, Shang Zhitao couldn’t explain why she had done such a thing, why she sent that message to Luan Nian. At the time, she thought she was brave, but later she realized it was absurd. Such a beginning could only lead to what kind of result?

Why do people always do such stupid things when they’re young, as if stupidity carried no consequences?

Luan Nian was drinking with Tan Mian when his phone lit up with Shang Zhitao’s message. His brows furrowed involuntarily. He felt Shang Zhitao was finding a way out for herself, even thinking she wanted to sell her body. Or perhaps beneath her obedient exterior lay a heart that always wanted to rebel.

She might have overestimated her performance in bed, though he admitted it was pretty good. Luan Nian hated transactions; he felt Shang Zhitao was making a deal with him.

He replied: “Sorry, last night was an accident.”

“A man’s words while high on dopamine can be considered as meaningless as flatulence. If anything I said made you misunderstand, I apologize.” Luan Nian’s words were as sharp as ever.

Shang Zhitao put away her phone, her fingertips trembling slightly. She knew she had overthought it. Luan Nian’s words from last night, “Whenever you want, anytime,” clearly meant what he said: a man’s words when he’s undressed don’t count; you have to see what he thinks when he’s sober. A sober Luan Nian wouldn’t even glance at her, so last night could be chalked up to his “drunken misconduct.”

But so what? I didn’t lose anything. Hiring a guy like Luan Nian would cost a fortune, but I didn’t spend a dime. I’m so capable. Shang Zhitao mocked herself.

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