Chapter 38: “Degeneration”—Persistence and Degeneration Are No Different Part 1

“‘Ren Sanliu, hold on just a bit longer…’ and ‘Xiang Yu, I want to fall with you…’ were essentially no different,

because this was something she would definitely do.”

—

“Little Yu, let’s go back to the bedroom.”

This completely exceeded Xiang Yu’s original plans.

Just moments ago, while Ren Sanliu was showering, she had made up her mind that no matter what, she wouldn’t return to the bedroom that night. But when Ren Sanliu walked up to her and brushed her nightgown against Xiang Yu’s knee, that sudden, tangible sensation pierced straight through her rationality, shaking her resolve. She wobbled like a roly-poly toy, toppling over without Ren Sanliu needing to push hard at all. A powerful, irresistible impulse—one that no sober reasoning could counter—made Xiang Yu stand up from the sofa. Her legs moved entirely on their own as she obediently followed Ren Sanliu back to the bedroom.

Ren Sanliu didn’t want to force her or make things difficult. She understood Xiang Yu. From last night’s heated kiss, which she had intentionally instigated, she knew Xiang Yu needed time to accept it. Originally, Ren Sanliu had planned to give her that time. But seeing her sitting there on the sofa, silently furrowing her brow, Ren Sanliu changed her mind. Rather than letting Xiang Yu cool off in silence alone, she preferred to have her nearby, lost in chaotic thoughts.

Coveting or greed—they were essentially the same.

With the lights off, the bedroom plunged into darkness. Only moonlight filtered in through the slightly open window and the parted curtains, casting faint, sparse shadows.

Ren Sanliu tugged at the blanket around her and turned over. In the pale glow of the moonlight, she gazed closely at the person lying flat beside her, whose breathing was somewhat tense—

“Can’t sleep?”

Xiang Yu’s ears twitched, and her shoulders straightened involuntarily. She recalled how Ren Sanliu had whispered those same words last night before taking out essential oil to massage her temples.

She couldn’t explain what was wrong with her. She was clearly resisting this behavior—whether it was a spur-of-the-moment whim or deliberate—yet now, she inexplicably anticipated it.

A dry, tense scent lingered in the air. Ambiguity swirled through the bedroom like an invisible net, trapping them on the king-sized bed beneath.

“Do you want to talk with me?” Ren Sanliu shifted her body, pressing closer to Xiang Yu’s arm.

“Talk… talk about what?” Xiang Yu was very nervous. Fleeting, easily detectable stray thoughts bubbled up from where Ren Sanliu’s skin touched her arm, which lay exposed outside the blanket.

“Little Yu…” Ren Sanliu inched closer without a word, lifting her other hand from her waist and reaching toward Xiang Yu. Her fingertips pinched the corner of the pillow under Xiang Yu’s head, tugging it lightly and ambiguously. In a soft voice full of warmth, she said, “I’ve missed you so much… all these years, I’ve missed you every day… Before you moved in, I was practically insomniac every night and had to take pills to sleep. But after you moved in… even when we weren’t sharing a bedroom or lying in the same bed like this, I never had insomnia again.”

“Ren Sanliu… I…” Xiang Yu moved her lips, saying her name, but didn’t know what to follow it with. A jumble of stray thoughts still rampaged through her mind.

She didn’t dare move, afraid of accidentally revealing her secret.

“I get that you can’t accept me… After all, I was the one in the wrong back then… And I really don’t have the right to ask for your forgiveness… But…” Ren Sanliu’s tone softened as she turned her head, rubbing against the pillow corner she’d just pinched. “But… I just can’t control myself. The moment I see you, I want to be with you…”

Xiang Yu froze. She felt like she was hallucinating— was this really Ren Sanliu?

Sure enough, Ren Sanliu didn’t continue. Instead, she changed the subject—

“Actually, it’s not like I have no family. Nan Jia and my little aunt—they’re my family.”

The leap in thought was too abrupt; Xiang Yu couldn’t keep up. One second she was immersed in Ren Sanliu’s warm, soft words, and the next, her tone returned to normal. Xiang Yu opened her closed eyes and turned to look, her brows furrowing.

“Of course you have family. You didn’t pop out of a crack in a rock.”

With that, Xiang Yu closed her eyes again. In the dim room lit only by a sliver of moonlight, Ren Sanliu’s eyes appeared exceptionally tender and affectionate, and Xiang Yu didn’t dare look too long, fearing she’d fall in again.

Xiang Yu knew what Ren Sanliu was hoping for. She knew Ren Sanliu had laid herself completely bare. Ren Sanliu wasn’t one to easily give her heart, but once she did… she would guard it to the death. That was exactly why Xiang Yu didn’t dare show too much in front of her. After all, in her current situation, what if one day she followed in her parents’ footsteps? What would happen to Ren Sanliu then?

Or worse, what if Ren Sanliu ended up like her parents, targeted for revenge because of Xiang Yu’s job? Xiang Yu would sink into an endless abyss of darkness, sinking deeper and deeper…

She had watched firsthand how her little aunt had repeatedly collapsed in the years after Zhao Yu’s disappearance. With such a vivid example right there, Xiang Yu couldn’t help but worry—and fear.

She admitted she couldn’t resist Ren Sanliu’s tenderness. She always sank back in at those crucial moments when she should pull away. But sinking had its limits. No one could live solely in an idealized world of emotions, ignoring real-world problems.

The world was beautiful, moving, rich, and interesting—but also cruel, absurd, and irrational. If they built a story of perfect harmony, contentment, and envy without a trace of jealousy, no one would believe it.

“Go to sleep… Don’t think about those things.”

“Just remember that you’re doing well now. That’s enough.”

Xiang Yu turned her back.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?” Ren Sanliu asked reluctantly.

What was there to say? What could she say?

The past was over, and future promises were too vague. Saying too much wouldn’t guarantee anything and would just create more unsolvable entanglements. Better to say nothing at all.

Xiang Yu let out a yawn that sounded like a sigh—

“Go to sleep. Don’t you have that business trip tomorrow?”

Seeing her like this—refusing to give even a sliver of an opening—Ren Sanliu suddenly sat up.

It wasn’t out of spite or resentment. It was just that looking at her back and hearing her sigh made her heart ache fiercely.

“What are you doing?” Xiang Yu heard the movement behind her and turned to look.

“I can’t sleep. I’ll go to the living room.”

Ren Sanliu’s hand had just reached for the blanket when it was grabbed. Xiang Yu pulled her back.

“What are you making a fuss about in the middle of the night?”

“I’m not making a fuss. I really can’t sleep.”

“You’re telling me you can’t sleep now? Why didn’t you say so earlier? You dragged me to the bedroom, and now you want to leave?”

A nameless fire flared up in Xiang Yu’s chest, and her voice grew louder without her realizing.

She thought Ren Sanliu would snap back like she used to—intolerant of any sand in her eyes. But instead, Ren Sanliu said nothing, just stared at her with eyes hazy like they’d been soaked in night and shattered by moonlight.

It sent a strange, twitching mix of unfamiliar emotions through Xiang Yu—stale and sorrowful.

The nameless fire in her heart vanished in an instant.

“So what will it take for you to sleep?” When she spoke again, Xiang Yu’s voice had softened noticeably.

She held Ren Sanliu’s wrist, loosening her grip and letting her fingers slide down into her palm. She gave a gentle tug and sighed—

“I never blamed you for the breakup back then, and I won’t now. I know you had your reasons…”

As Xiang Yu spoke, she pulled the blanket back over Ren Sanliu, making sure she lay down properly. She didn’t let go of her hand but soothed it gently and tenderly—

“In our line of work, we go through so much. Over time, you realize that aside from staying alive, nothing is a big deal. But people can’t just survive—they have to live. I admit… living with you these days has given me a real sense of home. But that doesn’t mean… we have to get back together for it to count. What’s a home? It’s coming back at night to a light on and a hot meal on the table…”

Xiang Yu turned to face her, brushing the hair from her eyes back behind her ear with her other hand—

“You say you’re not without family. So doesn’t that make me your family too, in a way?”

Strangely, with just those few words, the jumble of stray thoughts in Xiang Yu’s mind seemed to vanish. The swirling ambiguity around her stopped spreading. Though looking into Ren Sanliu’s eyes still made her heart twitch faintly, and holding her hand still brought a thin sheen of sweat to her palm… and even the cedar scent on Ren Sanliu’s body still made her inhale deeply without control… it all felt containable now. At least she no longer avoided her gaze or worried her secret would be exposed.

But… that strange, subtle feeling lasted only a moment. Because Ren Sanliu threw back her own blanket and burrowed into Xiang Yu’s arms.

“Family… hugging family shouldn’t be a problem, right?” Ren Sanliu wrapped her arms around Xiang Yu’s waist, pulling her arm under her head like a pillow. She buried her cheek in Xiang Yu’s neck, her nose rubbing against the taut tendon there.

Not family?

Then why are you trembling?

Last night, when you pinned me down…

When you thrust your tongue into my mouth and stirred fiercely…

When your hands clamped my waist… nearly crushing me…

Why didn’t you call yourself family then?

Family… bullshit family.

Ren Sanliu could have mercilessly exposed Xiang Yu’s lie without hesitation.

But she didn’t. She thought, Since Xiang Yu wants to use this clumsy, transparent excuse as a shield, why not play along…

Ren Sanliu wanted to see whether Xiang Yu’s shield was thicker or her blade of tenderness sharper.

“Hug me tighter… It makes me feel safer…”

Ren Sanliu deliberately pressed her lips to that taut tendon in Xiang Yu’s neck as she spoke—like containing it, or sipping it—her hot breath battering against it nonstop—

“You’re the one who asked what it would take for me to sleep.”

“Like this… I fall asleep easier.”

Xiang Yu finally realized she’d fallen for Ren Sanliu’s trick again—and one she’d set up herself.

Ren Sanliu hadn’t changed; she was still the woman who couldn’t tolerate a grain of sand in her eyes. She’d just changed tactics: letting all the sand rush in, then rubbing it out grain by grain. Only then would it never return in force.

But realizing it now was too late. Xiang Yu couldn’t let go.

She watched helplessly as her own rationality was discarded by her own hand. Suddenly, she understood this unbelievable—and troubling, chaotic, helpless—fact: the twenty-nine-year-old woman lying in bed, wearing only a white linen short-sleeved nightshirt, with a wildly beating heart, surging emotions, healthy physiology, and just one unpleasant sexual experience in her life… knew every inch of Ren Sanliu’s body from when she was eighteen. Even if she’d seen or touched it only once, even if it had felt awful, even if the process had been awkward, immature, and technique-less… it was etched into her bones. After all these years, the memory replayed vividly, over and over.

Xiang Yu felt an irresistible force on Ren Sanliu’s body, pressing closer in the pitch-black night. The old impulses drilled out from her skin, impossible to suppress with reason or morality. They didn’t even show their faces before fleeing, like a sweltering summer heat, a long, muggy downpour in a sealed room suddenly cracked open—a blazing emotion, an intimacy involving only her teeth and Ren Sanliu.

You’re testing me.

Xiang Yu said silently in her heart.

It was like crossing the equator and receiving a drenching baptism.

She hugged her tightly—

“Okay.”

—

The weather gradually warmed up. In those days, Xiang Yu and Ren Sanliu each busied themselves with their own affairs, and neither mentioned that night which would make them both awkward and unhappy.