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Once, she had a long fuse, dreaming that she would eventually blossom into fireworks. She hadn’t even had the chance to imagine the colors and shapes of those fireworks before the fuse was cut. Just seeing that long line in the snow in her dreams was enough to leave her disoriented for a long time after waking.
Her gaze was drawn to the glass cabinet nearby—a one-meter-long, half-meter-wide display case filled with all sorts of… small toys. Yu Zhi Mei sat there dumbfounded, using only two fingernails to place the ball she’d picked up onto the sofa, unable to fathom where it had come from: “You… sure know how to have fun…”
“Since you’ve seen it, I have nothing left to hide. But inviting you here wasn’t about this—I genuinely want to pursue you. Though saying that in this room might not be very convincing.” Zheng Ze Yan reached out to pull Yu Zhi Mei up, gently pulling her into his arms. The sensation was completely different from Jian Zhao Wen’s touch: “I really like you. I’ve liked you since our freshman year. Do you remember when I helped Zhang Yao deliver a gift to you during the New Year’s celebration? Actually, I swapped it out. That CD player you’ve treasured all this time—it was actually from me. Zhang Yao just gave you some cheap thing worth一百多块. You guys argued over that CD many times, but no one ever suspected me. Times have changed—I won’t stay invisible anymore.”
A muscular man oozing hormones might confuse young girls, but that scent was irresistible to older women and seductresses. Besides, the ultimate aphrodisiac between adult men and women is the phrase, “I like you.” Zheng Ze Yan’s move was unstoppable—invincible in every battle. He simply waited for Yu Zhi Mei to place her hand on his chest and surrender. Instead, Yu Zhi Mei gently pushed him away: “Sorry, though I haven’t agreed to be Jian Zhao Wen’s girlfriend yet, I’ve liked him for a long time.”
“I don’t mind being the third party. Give me a chance to compete fairly?”
“I do mind. I don’t want either of us to be disturbed anymore. We can still be friends, but if you ask me out again after today, I won’t accept.”
As she opened the door and stepped into the corridor, Jian Zhao Wen had just hung up the phone. For the first time, Yu Zhi Mei wrapped her arms around him: “I’m a bit tired. Should we go back?”
“Of course.”
When Jian Zhao Wen embraced her, he looked up and locked eyes with Zheng Ze Yan. In that moment, their gazes seemed to reveal everything.
On the way, Yu Zhi Mei kept talking about trivial things—cars, car modifications, cats—but never mentioned Zheng Ze Yan. Listening, Jian Zhao Wen grew increasingly uneasy—it felt like a deliberate cover-up. When they got to the third floor, Yu Zhi Mei went straight to the balcony, sitting on the ground to look at the sky. The sunlight bathed her and the plants in a soft glow, her expression and movements conveying layers of sadness. Jian Zhao Wen grew more anxious: “What happened in that room? Did he assault you?”
“No. What are you thinking?”
“What exactly was in that room that left you so shaken?”
Yu Zhi Mei smiled: “The set of Fifty Shades of Grey .”
“Damn. Didn’t I tell you it was right to go with you?” Despite only sleeping three or four hours, Jian Zhao Wen remained tense: “Nothing really happened?”
Yu Zhi Mei puffed out her chest: “Feel free to inspect.”
“So righteous.”
Yu Zhi Mei tucked her hair behind her ear, puzzled: “I was just curious about what made him transform into walking testosterone.”
“It’s simple—he evolved into a scumbag.”
“How cruel.”
“I’m telling the truth—’scumbag’ isn’t entirely derogatory. It’s just descriptive.”
Sighing, Yu Zhi Mei leaned against the wall, her hair swaying slightly in the breeze: “I’m getting tired of seeing through human nature at this age. People need passion as a base coat to be endearing. Back in school, Zheng Ze Yan quit club activities early, saw through everything, and lost interest in anything. He was highly utilitarian. Now, though his appearance has transformed, nothing inside has changed—his indifference has only doubled. If he pretends to be passionate, it’s infuriating. Can he genuinely care for others?”
Jian Zhao Wen pulled Yu Zhi Mei closer: “Can you stop caring about irrelevant people? Want to eat some Dachang noodles? This time of day, there probably won’t be a line.”
After marriage, Ou Jing He stopped buying books. Even visiting bookstores made her uncomfortable—the crisp air conditioning seemed to repel her. A few days ago, she passed by a bookstore and spotted a newly published complete collection of works by Junichi Watanabe. She stood there lost in thought for a long time. His themes were often censored, but men and women with imaginations couldn’t bypass Watanabe. Back in university, the first book she borrowed from the library was Paradise Lost . Reading it late at night under the covers with a flashlight, her heart raced as she heard the sound of excitement within her body, like exploring a dark cave—each step revealing wet earth and colliding stones.
She almost forgot she had graduated in Japanese literature. After moving to Bi Hu Tian Di, she didn’t own a single book. The beautifully bound Japanese literature books priced at 30 yuan each couldn’t compare to the Buddha statue enshrined in her mother-in-law’s heart. When her parents moved to Jiading, they threw away her damp old books, selling some to a second-hand bookstore near Yuyuan. Over time, she forgot she used to read. Upper-class socialites studied luxury management, art history, and economics. Occasionally, she bought glossy oversized art books displayed in hotels—looking at pictures without thinking too hard was effortless.
Recently, Ou Jing He lost interest in yoga and beauty treatments. She often dreamed of the past, recalling the time she dragged a suitcase full of books from Osaka back to Kyoto. On the last train, she encountered heavy snow, and her suitcase carved an arc in the snow. Crouching down, she gazed at the low houses of Kyoto, like a long fuse connecting to fireworks about to ascend. She once had many dreams for her future. In school, she wanted to be a teacher; after returning home, overwhelmed by work stress, she dreamed of becoming a forest ranger, working only with plants. Later, after marrying Gao Yuan, her imagination vanished entirely. Though seemingly possessing everything in a life envied by others, she felt like a plant deprived of water, gradually withering. Gao Yuan was someone who couldn’t go three sentences without crude jokes but showed little enthusiasm for intimacy. When they still shared a bed, he seemed uninterested in her body, making her suspect he didn’t like women—until she discovered countless flirtatious contacts on his phone.
Once, she had a long fuse, dreaming that she would eventually blossom into fireworks. She hadn’t even had the chance to imagine the colors and shapes of those fireworks before the fuse was cut. Just seeing that long line in the snow in her dreams was enough to leave her disoriented for a long time after waking.
“Do you want to see me? I’m downstairs.” It was a WeChat message from Zheng Ze Yan.
“No.”
“Such a waste of my sincerity.”
“Wait.”
Ou Jing He lay in bed for ten minutes, each second feeling like insects gnawing at her body. Struggling to sit up, she applied bright red lipstick, smoothing it with her fingers and dabbing the remainder on her cheeks, pretending to be distracted. Pausing at the entrance, she kicked off her modest mid-heel shoes, tossed her high-heeled slippers aside, draped a Dior blanket over her plain dress, and walked into the elevator wearing GUCCI plush slippers. The elevator had never felt so slow. Stepping out of the building, Ou Jing He circled the neighborhood twice but didn’t spot any sign of the man. Growing impatient, she checked her phone: “Where are you?”
“In a rush?”
“Stop wasting words. Where are you?”
“In the underground parking lot.” Zheng Ze Yan sent a photo: “I’m waiting for you in the car.”
Damn it. Ou Jing He stomped her feet, pacing back and forth at the entrance. Clutching her phone, she glanced at the sky, embarrassment pressing down on her. She considered going back upstairs but couldn’t bear it—wasn’t it just the parking lot? She decided to see what Zheng Ze Yan was up to.
Even angry, her steps quickened as she entered the parking lot, but her pace suddenly slowed. She knew exactly where her car was parked—this was her territory, and she had nothing to fear. All she needed to do was put on her sunglasses and hat; the surveillance cameras were strangers’ eyes anyway.
Spotting the Honda Civic Type R parked in a corner, hidden from the cameras, Ou Jing He smiled. Opening the car door, her heart pounding, she slid directly into the backseat: “So, where are we going?”
“Right here.”
Though the windows were tinted with privacy film, Ou Jing He still felt uneasy: “Have I fallen so low in your eyes that sitting in your car means I’m expected to do something indecent?”
“Isn’t that why you’re here?” Zheng Ze Yan turned around, his long arm reaching out to touch her face: “A married woman unsatisfied with her desires—do you really have the right to pick the setting?”
A fire surged within her. Ou Jing He recognized it as desire, leaving her momentarily flustered. Zheng Ze Yan was undeniably a man brimming with sexual energy, and his fingers’ caresses and steady breathing could turn her into a flammable object. Sitting in the car now, looking at Zheng Ze Yan so close to her, she remembered their last meeting—him wearing his shirt while sipping gin, the view of the city center through the floor-to-ceiling windows giving her the illusion of having everything. Closing her eyes, she let his hand wander across her body from the driver’s seat, but when she opened her eyes, they met his furious gaze.
As Zheng Ze Yan closed the car door and climbed into the backseat, Ou Jing He heard a string of curses. She even recalled a joke Yu Zhi Mei often told her, blurting out: “If you’d bought a Fit instead of this Civic, we wouldn’t be so cramped.”
“Enough talk.”
“Or are you afraid we’re not close enough? Want to get even closer?”
Ou Jing He noticed a brand-new box of hyaluronic acid condoms on the front seat, a wave of sorrow washing over her. She never doubted Zheng Ze Yan’s ability to satisfy her—if they played rough enough, this box could be emptied and tossed in the trash by the time they left the garage. Outside couldn’t see in, and the fogged-up windows blocked the view of the outside. Ou Jing He thought, if she had met Zheng Ze Yan years earlier, before she married, she wouldn’t have allowed herself to waste such a man. There should have been music, alcohol, colorful disco balls—everything in a state of pleasant intoxication. But now, drinking until blackout and waking up to emptiness and addiction always left her preparing to break free.
Of course, she wouldn’t let Zheng Ze Yan know any of this. As the fog gradually cleared, she contentedly grabbed a wet wipe from the front seat, completely ignoring the man next to her, panting heavily, treating him like a discarded toy: “Next time, you can choose a spot under the surveillance cameras—it’s fine.”
“Aren’t you afraid your husband will find out?”
“A couple like us, do we care how many playmates the other has? He’d just ask me where you rank on the pleasure-seeking leaderboard.” Ou Jing He was somewhat grateful for her dress, the shawl crossed elegantly over her chest adding an extra touch of allure.
“I don’t believe you.” Zheng Ze Yan grabbed her hand: “You obviously like me. Otherwise, why take this risk?”
“You’re such an actor.” Ou Jing He opened the car door: “A man with no moral bottom line waits for me in a parking lot, doing such a humble thing, and still thinks he’s playing the role of a deeply devoted lover?”
P.S.: Welcome to add this to your favorites and vote for recommendations. Today, I’m also waiting for everyone to chat in the comments section~
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