Chapter 10: MAMA-10

MAMA-10: An unreasonable request.

“What other kind of meat could it be?” Jian Wanji retorted. Mi Shanxin fell silent again, continuing to eat her food.

Jian Wanji ate very little for dinner; basically, she just watched Mi Shanxin eat.

The girl was too thin and weak; even bundled in a hoodie, she couldn’t create a rounded silhouette. Jian Wanji had initially planned to use the meal for more conversation, but decided to just keep quiet.

For a moment, the room held only the sound of chopsticks and bowls clinking.

It must have been Yueyue going home and mentioning to her mom about seeing Jian Wanji at the after-school center. Soon, her friend was questioning Jian Wanji on WeChat.

[Zeng Baian]: Have you lost your mind, actually going to the place she works?!

[Zeng Baian]: Jian Wanji, have some shame, will you? Be careful she actually calls the police on you.

[Zeng Baian]: If her parents find out their kid is being harassed…

[Jian Wanji]: Her parents are divorced. She lives alone.

Out of the corner of her eye, Mi Shanxin was eating very slowly. Jian Wanji hallucinated a cat, eyes brimming with tears getting a tube treat, just missing the whimpering mewls.

Parents divorced, staying with grandparents. Grandparents gone, just let the child live alone?

Even if she was in college, she was still a kid, right?

Sure, some people start working in their teens, but Mi Shanxin’s gaze was too clear—even if not bright, it was very naive.

Her social experience seemed to be zero; probably even exploited in salary at the after-school center.

Though Jian Wanji herself had come up that way, she also knew some things only became clear after experiencing them. But this was a different matter entirely.

[Zeng Baian]: You’re taking advantage of her vulnerability! How did you find all this out? Is it illegal or not?

Jian Wanji hadn’t ordered any rice. The table full of dishes looked steaming hot; she didn’t drink alcohol either. The Chrysanthemum Tea at this small restaurant was the large-flower variety; brewed, it floated open in the teapot, a rich floral aroma.

Mi Shanxin didn’t focus on eating either, staring off into space at the blooming chrysanthemum in the pot.

Jian Wanji imagined her even more as a stray cat staring at a fish tank, just loving to watch moving things.

[Jian Wanji]: She told me herself.

Her friend was skeptical: [Did you use some trick? Yueyue said you were sitting in her classroom.]

Zeng Baian knew Jian Wanji wasn’t some good Samaritan. The company had grown, more people needed feeding. People turned into spinning tops, had to keep spinning, no chance to fall over.

Compared to her business partner, who at least had a deeply engraved romance, Jian Wanji was exactly like those current soda ads.

Others were zero-fat zero-sugar; Jian Wanji was zero-dating-history zero-dating-desire.

Many saw her as flirtatious and good at banter, but it was all an act. The other boss had private dates and romances, some only physical with no strings attached. Pure rest for Jian Wanji was lying at home watching others livestream horse hoof trimming, so engrossed she seemed tempted to buy a horse to keep at home.

Jian Wanji had built her business well, dividing responsibilities with Sui Yuqian: one played dirty, one played clean. No great saints in business; opponents ranged from young to old, and as long as the contract was finally signed, everyone was happy.

But finding someone to act as a mother had nothing to do with business. Even though Mi Shanxin was a college student, she was an adult.

Even if Zeng Baian knew Jian Wanji wouldn’t try to seduce a young girl, she feared the patient coaxing, the lure of profit.

Even if the parents were divorced, they weren’t dead. If they later exposed her, the company’s reputation would suffer, and Sui Yuqian would be threatening suicide again.

Jian Wanji: [Don’t worry, this kid is sharp.]

She didn’t dare tell Zeng Baian that Mi Shanxin was a lesbian.

To her, swearing eternal love at just over twenty was possible, but people changed. Who knew the final outcome.

If Zeng Baian found out, she’d probably bring up the previous matter of the Bangkok Rich Woman again.

Zeng Baian: [Sharper than you?]

Zeng Baian: [You’re with her now? What are you doing?]

Zeng Baian: [Yueyue said Teacher Mi is in poor health, even fainted before. Don’t end up losing the lady and the soldiers, turning into someone like me burdened both above and below.]

Jian Wanji was amused by Zeng Baian’s words.

She barely touched her chopsticks anyway. Mi Shanxin had long noticed this person seemed to only take one or two bites of anything.

The rice at this restaurant was very good, much tastier than the discounted bulk rice Mi Shanxin bought at the supermarket.

She’d eaten a small half-bowl; Jian Wanji hadn’t touched a single grain, grinning at her phone about something.

Mi Shanxin asked: “Didn’t you say you don’t have a girlfriend?”

She thought for a moment. “Do you have a fuck buddy?”

Jian Wanji: …

Mi Shanxin’s words were just too blunt. The woman in her fortieth-minus-one year hissed. “Is this the life attitude of you college students nowadays?”

“What attitude?” Mi Shanxin’s return question left Jian Wanji speechless. “Westernized Lifestyle?”

“Is this about a Westernized Lifestyle?” Jian Wanji put away her impish grin. “Although this question has nothing to do with our cooperation, I still hope your impression of me can be a bit better. Don’t make assumptions recklessly.”

She rarely felt this helpless. Jian Wanji attributed it to too little contact with this age group in recent years.

“When I say single, I mean single. There’s nothing else.”

Mi Shanxin let out an “Oh.” Her hair was a bit long, tucked into the collar of her hoodie, much like an octopus’s tentacles. “Then can I ask a question?”

Jian Wanji: “What aspect?”

Mi Shanxin: “Sex life aspect.”

Even for Jian Wanji, who prided herself on dealing with people sincerely, her smile stiffened; she couldn’t keep grinning.

She rubbed the bridge of her nose, pained. “I didn’t say I’m the same kind as you, did I?”

Mi Shanxin buried herself in eating, her voice muffled: “You didn’t deny it either.”

Jian Wanji: …

She had underestimated the girl. Looking wooden, but sharp indeed when it counted.

“Fine, what do you want to ask?” Jian Wanji still softened.

Her own parents had left early, but at least she had her grandmother to raise her.

The old lady, even with her favoritism, hadn’t abused her or skimped on living expenses.

Unlike Mi Shanxin, at the age when self-esteem was strongest. During girlhood, the only thing that could surpass crushes in terms of worry was poverty.

The peeling backpack, worn thermos, a hoodie pilled beyond trimming.

“Do you…” Mi Shanxin had intended to ask, but for some reason, meeting Jian Wanji’s eyes, she couldn’t get the words out.

Jian Wanji watched her blush for no apparent reason, finding it equally strange. “What is it? Did the Braised Pork make you too hot?”

“You ordered bitter gourd, that should balance it, right?”

Her flippancy had turned into pure dorkiness. Mi Shanxin was somewhat speechless, suspecting Jian Wanji was playing dumb.

Mi Shanxin lowered her head, typed a line on her phone’s memo pad, and handed it to Jian Wanji—

Do you ever touch yourself?

Jian Wanji read it for a long time, feeling the pain of being hoist by one’s own petard.

The girl, looking utterly pure in appearance, even urged her to answer, pressing: “Do you?”

Jian Wanji rubbed the bridge of her nose, unaware her slender fingers and clean nails were all part of Mi Shanxin’s assessment.

“Do we really have to discuss this?”

Her easy familiarity suddenly distanced at this moment. Mi Shanxin hadn’t guessed wrong; this person’s smile was fake, her friendliness pretense. At her core, she was indifferent and cold, like a hallway motion-sensor light, only glowing when someone passed by.

Once they were gone, she sank back into darkness.

Mi Shanxin’s ear tips were hot, her stubbornness obvious thanks to her perpetually expressionless face. “You said we could.”

Jian Wanji scratched her hair, her permed bangs fluttering like a plucked bird feather, slightly mumbling: “This isn’t exclusive to homosexuality, you know.”

Mi Shanxin only cared about her desired answer: “Do you do it?”

Jian Wanji: “Want the honest truth?”

Mi Shanxin hummed.

Jian Wanji: “Honestly, no.”

Her gaze at Mi Shanxin was calm. Her smile-lips were an innate weapon—bridging distance, projecting goodwill, making her look like a person of great kindness.

But kindness gets worn down. Jian Wanji had long forgotten what girlish feelings or youthful spirit felt like. Even alone, her mind spun through project profits, manpower, scaling, investments…

Sui Yuqian was her partner, held a larger share, yet privately never considered these things.

Others said she was more human than Jian Wanji in private.

Sui Yuqian’s love life was at least quite representative, unlike Jian Wanji, whom friends defined as cowardly—easily seizing work opportunities, yet repeatedly letting pass relationship chances she could have pursued.

That’s why Zeng Baian said, You shouldn’t end up alone. Sui Yuqian said, Be more genuine, don’t just work all the time. Have a private life too. Use that same approach in love—flirting, teasing, mix it up, and a wife will come naturally.

As if Jian Wanji avoided the topic of homosexuality, yet her friends had long tacitly acknowledged her orientation.

This kind of question had been raised before; Jian Wanji hadn’t lied.

Sui Yuqian had just “Oh”-ed, I wish you well, friend. Hope you meet someone who makes you feel… lustful.

“Lustful” and “lustful”—different tones, different meanings—showcasing the profound depth of Chinese.

[T/N: A pun on the Chinese word 好色 (haose). Pronounced as hàosè (4th tone), it means “lustful” or “horny.” Pronounced as hǎosè (3rd tone), it means “good-looking” or “beautiful.” Sui Yuqian is wishing she meets someone who is either exceptionally beautiful to look at, or finally awakens her carnal desires.]

What a terrible blessing. Jian Wanji hadn’t accepted it with a smile. She said it might also never happen.

If people could live to eighty, they were already nearly halfway there.

If seventy, even worse, time dwindling to almost nothing.

Jian Wanji looked at Mi Shanxin. The person she’d chosen, the one who’d sprung to mind in a flash of insight—just her. Asking this kind of question, the kid probably wouldn’t be satisfied either.

Jian Wanji braced herself for interrogation, but unexpectedly, Mi Shanxin just let out an “Oh.”

As if she had no more questions.

Jian Wanji let out a “Huh?” “That’s it?”

Mi Shanxin continued eating, chewing her Sprite Bitter Gourd, cheeks puffed out. “You already answered my question.”

Jian Wanji was still very surprised. “You don’t think I’m lying?”

Mi Shanxin shook her head. “Didn’t think so.”

Jian Wanji: “Why?”

Mi Shanxin slowly finished her bite, set down her chopsticks, and looked at Jian Wanji. “No means no, isn’t that normal?”

It was Jian Wanji’s turn to “Oh.”

Mi Shanxin watched her. She’d also stopped her lecherous grinning. Without any exaggerated expressions of intimacy, her facial features became more pronounced, her nose bridge also quite high—unlike Mi Shanxin’s slightly flat nose.

“What, did you lie?” she asked.

“No,” Jian Wanji shook her head. “Didn’t expect you to believe me.”

“No need for you to lie to me about this.” Mi Shanxin again recalled the dreams that had materialized because of Jian Wanji. She actually wanted to make some unreasonable requests, but doing that kind of thing without a foundation of feelings seemed very awful. If Jian Wanji’s personality matched her frivolous aura, with plenty of romantic experience, perhaps Mi Shanxin would feel more at ease.

In this situation, it seemed Mi Shanxin was the one committing sexual harassment—just to sleep well, turning someone else into a sex tool.

But the temptation of good sleep was too great. Mi Shanxin’s morals and lack of morals were in a tug-of-war, agonizing.

Very conflicted, she spoke in a muffled voice while stuffing rice into her mouth: “Anyway, you wouldn’t help me sleep either.”