#64: The Mirror of Erised

Cheng Wanyue had poor stamina. Bouncing and jumping around in the thick mascot costume left her forehead sweaty, and her cheeks showed a healthy flush.

The dim light from the streetlamp scattered, like fragmented starlight falling into her eyes.

Qing Hang really wanted to kiss her, very much so.

But his mouth tasted of smoke, and he didn’t want her to dislike it.

The cigarette pack was almost full. Qing Hang picked up the mascot costume Cheng Wanyue had just taken off and, while picking up the sparklers, also grabbed the cigarettes and lighter from the chair.

“You can keep the lighter, but you can’t smoke,” Cheng Wanyue took the cigarette pack from his hand, stuffed it into her bag, and, while he was distracted, tiptoed to kiss him. “No smoking when you’re with me.”

Qing Hang nodded. “Okay.”

Cheng Wanyue frowned. “What does ‘okay’ mean?”

Qing Hang took her hand and walked towards the brighter area. “I won’t smoke anymore.”

She walked half a step behind. “This bear is borrowed; I need to return it to the owner.”

“How did you borrow it?” He remembered the owner of the toy store nearby had a bad temper; he occasionally saw the owner arguing with people on his way to and from work.

“He didn’t want money, nor was he selling it. I gave him a big bag of sweet tangerines, and after a few more good words, he agreed.”

When they went to the shop to return the mascot costume, the owner was still eating tangerines, greeting her with a smile.

No one would dislike her.

Upon arriving home, Cheng Wanyue entered first. The aroma of food covered the smell of cream. She forgot if she had put the cake in a box before leaving. She turned on the light to confirm Qing Hang wouldn’t discover it too quickly before standing aside, making space for him to change shoes.

Coal was very good at charming. As soon as the door opened, he jumped off the sofa and walked around Qing Hang’s feet.

Cheng Wanyue found the lighter in her bag and quietly hid it behind her back.

She said she was thirsty, so Qing Hang went to the kitchen to boil water. She used this time to take out the cake, insert the candles, and light them.

Coal almost stepped on the cake, and even when she held him, he was restless.

The commotion in the living room was minimal. Qing Hang heard the sound and knew it was Cheng Wanyue lecturing Coal. She herself was unrestrained, but whenever she reasoned with the cat, she had a whole routine.

When he had finished pouring water, he turned to walk out of the kitchen. The living room lights suddenly went out, leaving only flickering firelight in the darkness.

Cheng Wanyue sat on the mat, holding the cat, and sang “Happy Birthday” to him.

When he was little, his family was poor. In his memory, every birthday night, his parents would cook an extra egg for dinner. Later, even the eggs were gone, and birthdays were just ordinary days.

During those years in Baicheng, he would return to the village early to burn paper money and kowtow at his mother’s grave.

These past years, he had even forgotten that his mother’s death anniversary was also his birthday.

“Qing Hang, Happy Birthday,” Cheng Wanyue pulled him to the coffee table. “Make a wish.”

His expression was a bit dazed. “I have no wishes.”

“Then... wish for the thing you most want to get right now,” Cheng Wanyue suggested. “No one is truly without desires. Think about it again, for example, your year-end bonus doubling, smoothly passing your职称 (professional title) exam, quickly publishing your thesis, and so on.”

Just before the candles burned out, Qing Hang spoke. “Just to be healthy.”

He repeated softly, “You being healthy is enough.”

Cheng Wanyue smiled, reminding him to blow out the candles, or the wax would drip onto the cake and ruin it.

“If you don’t want these dishes, that’s fine, but you have to eat a piece of cake.”

“Did you make it?”

“...Is it really ugly?”

“For a first time, it’s already very good.”

“It’s not my first time. I’ve made it many times. This is the prettiest one,” Cheng Wanyue probably didn’t have a talent for this, and she genuinely disliked cooking and making desserts. “Do you still remember that year in senior high when I tricked you into coming to my house? That was my first time making one; it was several times uglier than this.”

Qing Hang, of course, remembered. That day, he walked a long way.

Time wouldn’t remember these things; he had kept them in his heart.

“You said... you went out with others and forgot to do your homework, and you wanted me to help you write it.”

“I was lying to you. I was at home messing with those all day; I had no time to go out. Making up homework? I’ve been scolded for not handing in homework more than once or twice; that time wouldn’t have made a difference. But I didn’t know it was your mother’s death anniversary then, and I didn’t know you went back to the village. I waited for you, but you didn’t come, so I threw the cake away. Qing Hang, if Auntie were still alive, she would definitely want you to be happy. A mother wouldn’t hold these things against her son, nor would she blame you for celebrating your birthday. It’s not wrong.”

“It’s not my fault.”

“Of course it’s not your fault. Doctors aren’t gods. You did your best.”

She had asked Qing Hang’s colleagues at the hospital. The rag picker’s condition was indeed so severe that there was nothing that could be done. Every day was painful, and death was a release.

“Try it,” Cheng Wanyue cut a piece of cake. “Wishes only come true after you eat cake.”

Qing Hang ate very slowly. After finishing that piece, he cut another. “It’s delicious.”

“Don’t eat too much, though. Isn’t it very sweet? Want some red wine?” Cheng Wanyue got up to get glasses.

The air was filled with the sweetness of cream and the mellowness of red wine. The smell of smoke on him was masked; you could only smell a little if you got close, but not enough to bother her.

After sending off the elderly man, he had washed up in the hospital’s lounge, and his collar was still a bit damp.

Cheng Wanyue raised her hand to wipe a drop of cream from his chin, then curled a finger, pointing at the wine bottle on the table. “I want a sip too.”

Qing Hang looked at her, then tilted his head back and drank the remaining red wine in the bottle. As the bottle fell to the floor, he leaned in and kissed her.

The wine bottle rolled to the corner of the wall, and she also couldn’t support their combined weight, falling onto the sofa.

She didn’t like doing it on the sofa, and Coal was still nearby.

Qing Hang fumbled for the condom in the drawer, picked her up, and walked a few steps into the bedroom. The brief separation made him eager, and the bedroom door closed with a heavy thud.

He couldn’t even wait to get to the bed. He stripped her clothes off right behind the door. She turned her head, gasping, pressed against the door by his waist.

Hot kisses landed on her back. Her nipples were painfully chafed. Cheng Wanyue wrapped one hand behind her to push him away, but he grabbed it, intertwining their fingers.

Her legs went weak, and she almost collapsed to the floor.

He was like a broken glass cup, smoothing out his sharp, jagged edges before embracing her.

Her body slid down the door. At that moment, she didn’t realize how dangerous her situation was until Qing Hang knelt behind her, slowly pushing into her orifice. She felt as if she was nailed to the door, with no room left to struggle.

Her limbs were tightly bound by invisible ropes, and even the surrounding air became a burdensome pressure. Her hands, sweaty from gripping the door, slid down weakly.

The penis inside her began to thrust, each movement grinding against her most vulnerable spot. Her nerves trembled reflexively—it was the biggest reaction she could make.

“Qing Hang...” She couldn’t endure even five minutes.

“Don’t cry,” his kisses trailed from the back of her neck to the corner of her lips, his muffled voice mixing with her soft sobs. “I know, it will be over soon.”

The already deeply inserted penis suddenly pushed in fiercely. In the darkness, there was only the sound of heavy, turbid breathing and the crisp slap of flesh.

She couldn’t muster any strength. Her fingers and toes curled tightly, and her knees bumped against the door again and again. This pain was not enough to counteract even a tenth of the wildly surging pleasure. She barely managed to catch her breath, and whimpering sobs escaped between her teeth, like a cat’s meow.

The climax came violently, her consciousness scattering, but the soft flesh wrapped around him still contracted and spasmed instinctively.

He kept saying it would end quickly, but it seemed endless.

Her nerves were numb, yet she still couldn’t resist the waves of pleasure that kept coming. His lips and teeth roamed her nape, as if to bite open a wound and suck her blood dry.

She wanted to ask: Qing Hang, what are you afraid of?

However, she could only open her mouth, unable to make a sound.

Before he let go of her, she fell into a deep sleep.

________________________________________

She woke up feeling refreshed, presumably having showered, but every part of her body was sore and aching. The room was dark, meaning dawn hadn’t broken yet. As for why she suddenly woke up while sleeping, Qing Hang knew best.

His lingering kisses couldn’t hide the unquelled desire within his body. Even when she was asleep, her most sensitive areas, when stimulated, would secrete warm, moist fluid that slowly flowed out of her orifice. Her labia were a bit swollen and red. He was like holding a melted pat of butter, tangible, but with a gentle press of his tongue, it felt as if it would melt in his mouth.

The calf resting on his shoulder moved a little. He knew she was awake and climbed out from under the covers.

He gripped her ankle, pushing it up, and his tongue pried open her lightly closed teeth to explore inside. His painfully hard penis was also slowly invading her body.

Her nerves awakened, and a tingling pleasure surged up her tailbone. She could clearly feel the process of her passage being stretched.

His self-control had collapsed even before he unbuttoned her first button. He had waited too long. With slightly more pressure, her inner walls reacted by suddenly clenching.

“Qing Hang... don’t be so rough... gently...” Her voice was hoarse.

He could hear her, but he couldn’t stop.

He wanted every inch of her skin to be imprinted with his scent.

“Cheng Wanyue, love me a little more.”

The sky was subtly lightening. She slept quietly beside him, tears still lingering at the corners of her eyes. Qing Hang felt as if he was dreaming, but he couldn’t see anything clearly.

Cheng Wanyue woke up late. This was the first time she was awake and Qing Hang was still asleep.

There was a purplish-red mark on his chin, probably from her biting him, and his shoulders looked quite ravaged. The scratches from her nails made her seem like an abuser, even though he was the one doing the abusing.

She had slept enough; he should be well-rested too, right?

“It hurts so much,” she just moved slightly, and her knees felt terrible.

When Qing Hang threw back the covers and sat up, his eyes weren’t even fully open. “Where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere, all over!” Cheng Wanyue struggled to lift one leg, pointing at the bruises on her knees, accusing him with undeniable evidence of how brutal he had been last night. “Look what you did; I’m almost crippled.”

The hazy sleepiness in Qing Hang’s eyes gradually cleared. He took her foot, lowered his head, and kissed her calf. “I don’t have work tomorrow either. I’ll take care of you with all my heart.”

She deliberately picked a fight. “Why do you make me sound like some monstrous shrew? Affecting your mood, and even affecting your work and earning money.”

He leaned in to kiss her, his voice, laced with a smile, whispered into her ear. “You’re a beautiful monstrous shrew.”

“How dare you say that about me!”

“I said you’re beautiful.”

“You clearly said I’m fierce.”

“What’s the use of being fierce? Going to battle with a baby bottle doesn’t give you much combat power.”

“You, you, you, you! How dare you mock me! Just you wait!”

Amidst their playful banter, she seized the opportunity to ask him, “Qing Hang, what was the wish you didn’t say last night?”

Last night, after Qing Hang stated his first wish, Cheng Wanyue covered his mouth, telling him to silently make a wish in his heart.

“Didn’t you say wishes don’t come true if you say them out loud?”

“That was yesterday; today you can say it.”

He closed his eyes and thought for a moment. “I want you to be with me forever.”

“How long is forever?”

“A very, very long time.”

“And another one?”

“That’s all; there are no more.”

________________________________________

In the past, what Qing Hang saw in the Mirror of Erised was Cheng Wanyue.

Now, what Qing Hang saw was him and Cheng Wanyue.