Embedded Files
Psst! We're moving!
Luan Nian glanced at the phone that had been ringing persistently. Zang Yao was persistent. When she moved to Beijing, she didn’t seek help from anyone but rented a small flat by Houhai all on her own. The bustling hutongs near Houhai only grew quiet around two in the morning. But Zang Yao liked it; she felt there was life here.
Luan Nian answered the call and said to Zang Yao, “I’m driving right now; I’ll call you back later.”
“Are you coming to listen to music tonight?”
“No.”
“Alright, talk later then.”
Zang Yao’s new boyfriend was also in a band. He moved in with her the day after they met. Luan Nian was used to Zang Yao frequently changing boyfriends. She kept moving, kept switching people—it was her norm.
Shang Zhitao stared out the car window. In June, both the trees and grass were lush and green—it was the best season of the year in Beijing.
Luan Nian’s bar had been under construction for over two months and was starting to take shape. He reserved one room in the bar for daily rest.
Shang Zhitao couldn’t quite picture what the future held, but she thought the place was so big that it must be able to hold a lot of people.
“But this place is so remote—will anyone come?” she finally voiced the question that had been bothering her for a long time. Other bars were located in places like Houhai, Nanluoguxiang, or Wudaokou—all busy areas. His bar here seemed like a waste of money. Just thinking about it made Shang Zhitao feel sorry for him.
“Business is an art,” Luan Nian said. “If you want to learn, I can teach you slowly.”
“Slowly?” Shang Zhitao wasn’t sure what he meant by “slowly.” In her heart, she always believed that one day they would part ways—maybe tomorrow, maybe next month, or perhaps the following year. Either way, their relationship wouldn’t last.
“Yeah, slowly.” Luan Nian replied, while checking in with the foreman about the progress of the construction. It was slower than expected, and he wanted to know why. After hanging up, he asked Shang Zhitao, “Want to grab something to eat?” eager to comfort his stomach, which had been upset by Shang Zhitao’s noodles earlier.
It was the same fish restaurant.
Same owner. It seemed the owner was used to seeing them together and tacitly acknowledged their special relationship. He treated Shang Zhitao more casually than before. They ate fish, and afterward, Luan Nian took Shang Zhitao back home.
Shang Zhitao sometimes doubted whether Luan Nian had a perpetual motion machine inside him. Occasionally puzzled, she would search online: “At what age does a man’s sexual ability start to decline?” Most answers said around 25. After 25, it depended on skill.
That rule clearly didn’t apply to Luan Nian.
She loved kissing him. His lips were always a little cool, while hers were warm. When her warmth touched his coolness, her heart skipped half a beat.
She insisted on kissing him during intimate moments, and he never refused—in fact, he even seemed to enjoy it a little.
Afterward, Shang Zhitao put on her pajamas to clean up and then returned to the guest room. They never slept together, but that night was an exception.
They were both exhausted and didn’t want to move after finishing. Luan Nian’s hand was still resting on Shang Zhitao’s waist. She thought, “Let’s rest for a bit.”
She just wanted to rest for a moment, but ended up falling asleep.
The feeling was strange. She nestled into Luan Nian’s arms, her head resting on his arm, her back pressed against his chest. Shang Zhitao slept soundly, but when she woke up, she found Luan Nian’s leg tightly wrapped around hers, his arm securing her as well. She felt suffocated, let out a small uncomfortable groan, and turned over with difficulty. Seeing this, Luan Nian scolded her with closed eyes: “Don’t move!”
Even with his eyes closed, his displeasure was evident.
…
Shang Zhitao froze, then said to Luan Nian, “Your leg… it’s a bit heavy…”
After a long pause, Luan Nian responded, “Did your ex-boyfriend ever tell you that you do somersaults in your sleep?”
?
Shang Zhitao seriously considered the question and earnestly answered, “He said sometimes…”
Luan Nian released her, got out of bed, and went to take a shower. Shang Zhitao followed him, asking, “So I did a somersault? How did I do it?”
“Do you want to shower together?” he teased, blocking the door.
“No way.”
Luan Nian shut the door and turned on the shower. Faintly, he heard Shang Zhitao raise her voice: “You mean I really did a somersault? How did I do it? Did I kick you off the bed or something?”
Luan Nian rarely slept with women, and now this rare night together was giving him nightmares. In her sleep, Shang Zhitao had kicked out wildly, almost hitting his vital parts. Luan Nian even suspected she might have done it on purpose. He had the impulse to kick her off the bed and was already preparing to do so, but Shang Zhitao rolled over, wrapping her arms around his waist, finding a comfortable spot in his embrace. It seemed that in her dream, she trusted him deeply.
Luan Nian suddenly felt a twinge of tenderness. If he threw her off the bed while she was sleeping peacefully, who knows what kind of trauma she might develop? So he decided to endure it.
He held her tight, preventing her from moving too much. The Shang Zhitao in his arms was probably like a stubborn donkey—occasionally kicking up her heels, making Luan Nian’s heart race.
When he came out of the shower, he saw that Shang Zhitao had already taken a bath and was sitting on the bed waiting for him, looking a bit guilty and apologetic: “Did I really kick you?”
“What else?” Luan Nian spread out his towel, and Shang Zhitao quickly covered her eyes: “It’s broad daylight! Don’t do that!” But her fingers were slightly apart, peeking through the gaps at Luan Nian’s muscular legs.
Luan Nian chuckled at her antics, pulling her hands away. He pointed to a bruise near his groin area, close to his vital parts. Even now, he didn’t understand where Shang Zhitao’s strength came from—perhaps it was because she ate a lot and was very active, possessing raw power.
Shang Zhitao was a bit surprised. She pointed to the bruise, then to herself: “I did that?”
“Were you possessed by a ghost or something?” Luan Nian chased her off the bed: “I’m hungry. Go cook some noodles.”
“But my noodles aren’t tasty.”
“Still, you’re cooking.”
“Okay.”
When Shang Zhitao added salt, Luan Nian chimed in: “Hold steady with the salt—add less.”
His comment made her blush with embarrassment. Fortunately, today’s noodles tasted slightly better than yesterday’s.
Outside, a torrential rain began to pour. The security guard couldn’t hail a cab, so Shang Zhitao couldn’t leave and was forced to stay at Luan Nian’s place. She usually only stayed over on Friday nights, but this was the first time she’d stayed two consecutive nights. Suddenly, she didn’t know what to do.
Luan Nian lounged on the sofa flipping through a magazine, while Shang Zhitao watched TV, bored out of her mind. She secretly glanced at Luan Nian, and when he caught her, he put down the magazine: “What is it?”
Shang Zhitao smiled and sat cross-legged facing him, speaking earnestly: “Luan Nian, don’t you think we’re too unfamiliar with each other?”
?
Seeing Luan Nian frown, she continued: “I think getting to know each other better will also help improve the quality of our sex life.”
… Luan Nian agreed to humor her: “So?”
“So let’s play a game together!”
“What game?”
“My ex-boyfriend and I often played Rock-Paper-Scissors. The loser either answers a question or gets flicked on the forehead. Let’s play, okay?”
Shang Zhitao probably lacked a few brain cells. Seeing Luan Nian nod, she was genuinely delighted. She extended her fair, delicate hand: “Let’s begin! Come on, come on.” At that moment, she looked exactly like a carefree 17- or 18-year-old girl—innocent and adorable. Luan Nian studied her for a while before discussing the rules: “We can ask anything?”
“Yes. No taboos.”
“Only the truth?”
“Yes, lying makes you a pig.”
“Winner takes all?”
“Yes!”
Luan Nian beckoned her closer: “Come on.”
Men are inherently gamblers, and Luan Nian was no exception—he played to win, regardless of gender.
In the first round, Luan Nian won. Shang Zhitao chose to answer a question. Luan Nian asked: “Have you ever come in first place in any competition?”
“Of course I have!”
“In what?”
“Shot put in elementary school! Calligraphy in high school!” After answering, Shang Zhitao noticed Luan Nian’s indifferent expression and his nonchalant comment: “I wasted a question.”
Not math, English, singing, or dancing competitions—but shot put and calligraphy. After saying it, she felt embarrassed herself. Suddenly, she realized how cunning this old fox could be, though she could handle it.
In the second round, Shang Zhitao lost again. She still chose to answer a question.
“Is anyone pursuing you right now?” Luan Nian asked indifferently.
Shang Zhitao thought for a moment. If she said no, it would seem like she had no charm, so she prepared to lie—but then she heard Luan Nian say, “Lying makes you a pig.”
…
“No.” Shang Zhitao’s social circle was small. Besides helping Sun Yu at work and attending two offline blind dates, her interactions were limited to colleagues and a few acquaintances.
“It’s okay, nothing to be ashamed of. It’s normal. You know, many people go through life without ever being pursued.”
“I’ve been pursued before. My ex-boyfriend loved me very much.” Shang Zhitao argued.
“If he loved you so much, why did you break up?”
Luan Nian’s sharp tongue was irrepressible.
In the third round, Shang Zhitao lost again. She didn’t want to answer another question—the next one would surely be more embarrassing, knowing Luan Nian. Instead, she chose the forehead flick. When she lost and picked the flick option, Xin Zhaozhou’s fingertip lightly tapped her forehead once—it didn’t hurt, it was gentle.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Shang Zhitao lifted her bangs to let Luan Nian flick her forehead. As soon as she lifted her bangs, she heard a sharp crack, causing her brain to buzz. She immediately clutched her head, staring at Luan Nian in disbelief.
She didn’t even realize tears had formed from the pain.
“What’s wrong? Didn’t we agree to accept the consequences?” After finishing the act, Luan Nian stood up to pour himself some water, leaving Shang Zhitao sitting there rubbing her head. He was in a bad mood.
Sometimes, he didn’t understand what Shang Zhitao was thinking—always bringing up her ex-boyfriend. What did it matter what they did when they were dating? Why should I play games you played with him?
Shang Zhitao was still dazed. After a long while, she said: “I thought you’d be gentler.”
“Why? Can’t handle losing?”
“I…”
“Do you want to keep playing?”
“No.”
Shang Zhitao was a bit angry too. She didn’t know what she was thinking when she impulsively grabbed a couch cushion and threw it at Luan Nian: “That hurt so much!”
“You deserve it.” Luan Nian caught the cushion and tossed it back onto the couch, then sat back down. He noticed that Shang Zhitao’s forehead was slightly swollen. Pulling her closer, he examined it closely, muttering: “Seems like I hit you pretty hard. Did it make you cry?”
“No.”
“Then flick me back.”
“I won’t. I didn’t win.”
Shang Zhitao claimed she could handle losing, but at this point, she couldn’t anymore. Luan Nian had flicked her too hard, and it made her feel sad. Only someone who didn’t care would be so harsh.
“Alright, how about this—you throw rock, and I’ll throw scissors,” Luan Nian suggested.
“Fine.”
Symbolically losing the round, Luan Nian pointed to his own forehead: “Go ahead, flick me.”
Shang Zhitao blew air onto her thumb and middle finger, feeling a sense of sweet revenge. As her hand approached Luan Nian’s forehead, she hesitated and changed her mind. Unable to bring herself to flick him, she instead cupped his face and gently kissed his forehead.
“I can’t bear to hurt you,” she said, hopping off the couch to raid the fridge for snacks. That light kiss sent a fleeting shiver through Luan Nian’s heart.
The rain showed no sign of stopping, and Shang Zhitao figured she probably couldn’t go back. She messaged Sun Yu, asking: “Are you back from Handan?”
“On the road. The rain is really heavy today—are you back?”
“I’m at Luan Nian’s. I can’t get a cab.”
“Got it. I have his address. If he really tries to kill and dump your body, at least we’ll catch the murderer, hahaha.”
Sun Yu laughed along with Shang Zhitao, but in reality, her foot was wrapped in a bandage, and she was in immense pain on the train. She hadn’t told Shang Zhitao that she had faced humiliation during her work assignment in Handan. The event hadn’t gone well—one female member was married, and Sun Yu’s system didn’t have the relevant records. The woman’s husband had shown up during the event, causing chaos, and Sun Yu had fallen and sprained her ankle. She hadn’t told anyone, feeling it was too embarrassing.
Sun Yu’s laughter had two extra “ha’s” this time—something was off. Shang Zhitao called her directly: “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Sun Yu looked at her injured foot, her eyes red. But she didn’t want to cry on the crowded train, so she gritted her teeth.
“It’s raining, and the entrance is slippery. Be careful going upstairs. There are snacks in the drawer of my room if you’re hungry.”
“Alright.”
It took Sun Yu a great deal of effort to reach her building. With her injured foot, climbing the stairs became a challenge. Standing at the entrance, staring at the pouring rain, she finally couldn’t hold back and burst into tears.
Emotional breakdowns often strike unexpectedly. Her heart felt lost, and she thought she couldn’t endure anymore. Maybe it was time to just go home and get married.
Sun Yuanzhu’s appearance was unexpected. He went downstairs to throw out the trash during the rain and decided to take a walk. There, he saw Sun Yu, leaning on a crutch, crying like a drowned rat.
“Are you okay?” He held the umbrella over her head, watching her makeup-streaked face.
Sun Yu felt like everything around her was suffocating. The project was struggling, life was full of trivialities, and she felt like she couldn’t keep going. Sobbing, she said, “I’m not okay.”
“Let’s go upstairs then?”
Sun Yuanzhu stepped forward to take her suitcase: “Stay here—I’ll bring your suitcase upstairs first.” He knew Sun Yu well; she would definitely worry about losing her luggage. Without waiting for her response, he went upstairs and quickly returned.
Breathing slightly heavily, he squatted in front of Sun Yu: “Here, climb on.”
Sun Yuanzhu’s back was so warm as he carried Sun Yu up the stairs. She felt like her heart was being healed, and gradually, her tears stopped flowing.
Google Sites
Report abuse