“My god, my body; my temple, my blessing; my love, my devotion.”
—
(1)
After that day, life returned to its former dullness. For Ren Dongliu, the seventeen-year rift in her mother-daughter bond with Ren Beng could not be mended by a simple goodnight or a late-night heart-to-heart with Xiang Yu. Besides, she was now in her senior year of high school, and for a student with just one year until the college entrance exam, studying was her more pressing duty.
That said, Ren Dongliu could keenly sense that something in her life had truly changed.
Before dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight truly spread across the earth, she always rose early, washed up, got dressed, and sat by the window. By the time the sun fully rose over the horizon, she had at least memorized three units of English vocabulary.
Ren Beng’s internal clock matched hers, or perhaps she rose even earlier. In the past, Ren Beng would at most knock on her door at this hour, deliver a cup of hot milk or soybeans soaked overnight and blended into nutritious, unsweetened, creamy soy milk, then leave and close the door. She wouldn’t disturb Ren Dongliu again until morning study session ended and breakfast was done before school.
But now, things were different. Ren Beng seemed to take an interest in Ren Dongliu’s morning study time—an interest that completely caught Ren Dongliu off guard.
After delivering the soy milk or milk, Ren Beng would proactively start a casual chat during the brief pauses. Then, using those few sentences as an excuse, she would retreat to sit on the bed diagonally behind Ren Dongliu. She listened to the muffled murmurs of Ren Dongliu reciting English words, occasionally lifting her head to look at her, a smile always playing in her eyes and brows, her expression one of pure, contented enjoyment.
Ren Dongliu knew Ren Beng wanted to get close to her, to show her care. But her own personality, suppressed to the extreme during those years living with her grandmother Wen Yang, made it so that even when she wanted to speak, the words died on her tongue.
Now, Ren Beng’s way of silently accompanying her morning studies made Ren Dongliu feel at ease for the first time in a while. It wasn’t overly intimate, nor absolutely distant—like a perfectly balanced scale, with equal weights on both sides.
This subtle shift in her otherwise mundane life was like a cool breeze arriving one morning amid the unrelenting thirty-degree heat of midsummer.
During this time, Ren Yu dropped by now and then. After just two or three visits, she noticed the change between Ren Dongliu and Ren Beng.
Each time, she pulled Ren Beng aside for long chats at the dining table. Ren Dongliu sometimes played in the bedroom with Nan Jia, sometimes sat with her in the living room watching videos on her phone. No matter what, the two adults didn’t seem to mind her presence.
Ren Yu and Ren Beng had plenty to talk about. Having grown up together, they shared countless secrets.
“Do you remember when I got that love letter in middle school?” Ren Yu laughed excitedly, like a fourteen- or fifteen-year-old girl reminiscing about her first confession, finding her younger self hilariously naive. “I don’t even remember what I wrote anymore, but I clearly recall all the typos… I showed it to you, and you couldn’t stand it after two lines. You even grabbed a pencil and corrected the errors in the margins.”
Ren Yu spoke only of their shared past: the first love letter shown to her big sister, the first failed exam where she asked her sister to forge their parents’ signature, the first puppy love crush shared in girlish whispers.
They chatted happily. Ren Dongliu listened from the side, unable to suppress a smile at the funniest parts. But at the same time, an inevitable feeling stirred in her heart—envy.
Ren Dongliu realized she envied Ren Yu. As Ren Yu vividly recounted their sisterly memories and secrets too scandalous for adult ears back then, a serene evening scene appeared before Ren Dongliu’s eyes: a gentle breeze swaying freely, her arm linked with Ren Beng’s, shy and bashful yet panicked and afraid. She said to Ren Beng—as if someone liked her.
Then, she would generously share with her loving mother the flutter of a teenage girl’s heart.
The unspeakable half—that person was a girl.
The tranquil image of evening breezes blended with the current living room scene.
For a fleeting moment, Ren Dongliu felt as if she had become Ren Yu.
This strange sensation had no prior precedent; it arose out of nowhere, constructed from external links in her imagination.
Her heart grew warm, yet she felt a profound sense of loss.
How could she piece together logic from seventeen lost years through mere fantasies?
6,205 days—even God wouldn’t have that much imagination.
Ren Dongliu’s peripheral vision involuntarily drifted to Ren Beng’s face at the dining table—
If, back then, you had given me just one clue that you loved me, would we be closer now?
“Kai Kai-jie… Kai Kai-jie…”
“Hm? What’s up?”
Lost in thought, Ren Dongliu looked up to find Nan Jia’s face right in front of hers—
“Are you crying? Your eyes are so red…”
Ren Dongliu blinked, her eyes moist—
“No, just tired from staring too long.”
…
The improving mother-daughter relationship transformed Ren Dongliu from a taciturn, reclusive child into a sensible, considerate, adult-understanding good girl.
Ren Dongliu felt her image had suddenly sharpened. Turning eighteen wasn’t her marker of maturity; becoming that good daughter was.
This plunged her into another undercurrent of calm turmoil. She wondered what she truly meant to everyone. She didn’t seem like an independent being. Despite her healthy body, nimble limbs, and sharp mind, she felt like an appendage—a piece of flesh fallen from Ren Beng’s body. Without Ren Beng as the core, even standing firmly on earth, she was no different from furniture, a stone, or a cloth draped over the TV: meaningless, lifeless.
Her realization startled her belatedly, but what surprised her most was Wen Yang. Once so eccentric, sharp-tongued, gloomy, and volatile, she had softened in an instant, showing Ren Dongliu the typical affection of a grandparent for a grandchild.
No more low, somber tone; no more wary gaze; no more constant lectures on self-respect and self-love.
Wen Yang grew kind toward Ren Dongliu, her eyes and brows carrying the loving kindness of an elderly woman. Her gaze revealed relief, as if Ren Dongliu had finally done something to please her.
Ren Dongliu couldn’t claim it left her untouched—after all, those years with Wen Yang, all she wanted was her grandmother’s approval.
Now, she had it, but Ren Dongliu couldn’t muster genuine joy. She felt a long river separated them.
Was there any mother who loved her daughter like Wen Yang? Her love for Ren Beng projected onto Ren Dongliu. Right or wrong, its depth commanded awe.
Now, every weekend at Wen Yang’s, she always pulled Ren Dongliu aside for a private talk.
“Your mother has had it hard. You need to understand her. Prison life is tough; she’s suffered, though she’d never say it aloud and always seems indifferent when she sees you. But I know… she’s behaved well all these years, hoping for early release.”
Wen Yang gripped Ren Dongliu’s hand tightly—
“Grandma knows you’re a good child, kind like your mother. I tell you this so you know she loves you. How could a mother not love her own child? But she was too fragile back then, felt she had no way out. Now she’s back; the past is past. I’m her mother, but you’re her daughter. She needs you.”
“I understand, Grandma,” Ren Dongliu said.
“You must love her, love her wholeheartedly. Without her, there’d be no you.”
Ren Dongliu nodded earnestly to Wen Yang, committing to the words, but sighed inwardly with exhaustion.
Of course she would love Ren Beng, even if she didn’t know how or where to start. She would try—not for Ren Beng, but for herself. Only then could she escape the emotional deadlocks, find true peace of mind, and coexist peacefully with Ren Beng.
After all, in these happy family reunions, chasing traces of love was unnecessary and futile. If Ren Beng laid everything bare but Ren Dongliu still harbored doubts, what difference would it make?
Ren Dongliu didn’t see this as hypocrisy, but human nature. No matter how fragile Ren Beng had been, she had truly hurt her. To erase that hurt completely would require waiting far longer than seventeen years—or some unforeseeable event to unleash emotions transcending their trapped reality.
She wondered… did Ren Beng harbor similar thoughts? Was she waiting too?
Waiting for that event, that day, to free them both from this cage of the heart.
Yet Ren Dongliu felt a vague unease. She couldn’t imagine what that day would look like or what the event entailed. She feared it might bring another cataclysm.
(2)
Under this dull life’s oppression, behind the mask of feigned closeness, Ren Dongliu often felt two selves tearing at each other inside, splitting apart.
Her only solace and temporary relief came from one person: Xiang Yu.
She loved Xiang Yu’s gentleness, depended on her thoughtfulness. Each time they kissed, Xiang Yu cradled her face, pecking carefully, as if handling the world’s one-of-a-kind treasure. Looking into Xiang Yu’s eyes, seeing herself reflected there, only then did Ren Dongliu feel she wasn’t anyone’s appendage or flesh off their body. She was an independent, complete being with unique life and meaning.
Yet despite her extraordinary attachment to Xiang Yu, they never achieved true spiritual intimacy—only emotional distance.
Xiang Yu had a wonderful personality, a natural radiant warmth like the sun. At first glance, she dazzled the eyes, but drawing near, enveloped in her light, everything felt warm and comfortable: breezes light, grasses lush, waters murmuring.
One marveled at the energy from her body, irresistibly immersed, yet she felt distant—like nature’s eternal sunrises and sunsets. With Xiang Yu, Ren Dongliu felt warmed and infected, but alone afterward, the February north wind chilled her again.
Even sharing similar childhood voids and inner gloom, neither could fully enter the other’s inner world.
This was probably that saying—no one can truly empathize with another.
“What are you thinking about?”
Xiang Yu held Ren Dongliu’s hand, eyes on her face. Their kiss had lasted a while. Each time it ended, after a brief pause, Ren Dongliu would gaze at her with those hazy eyes. Xiang Yu understood; whenever she wanted more, she looked like this.
But lately, Ren Dongliu’s need for this seemed to have increased a lot. They always ended up in this shrubbery taller than a person, with no streetlights, only the occasional shooting star streaking overhead in the darkness, where they kissed for a long time.
Seeing that Ren Dongliu didn’t respond, Xiang Yu asked again—
“Are you thinking about your mom?”
As she spoke, she lifted her other hand and gently touched Ren Dongliu’s slightly swollen lips.
Ren Dongliu felt that although they could never achieve complete mental intimacy, it didn’t hinder Xiang Yu from easily and accurately perceiving her inner thoughts every time.
“Are you a worm in my belly?”
“I wish I were.” Xiang Yu spoke honestly. If she could turn into a worm in Ren Dongliu’s belly and share some of the burdens weighing on her heart, what would be wrong with that? “When you’re unhappy… when I kiss you, you’re distracted.”
“You can’t expect me to be fully focused every moment. People’s attention needs reminders to concentrate, unless you think kissing should be something we deliberately focus on. But if it’s deliberate… what’s the point of kissing anymore? It’s not like making a schedule.”
“But before, when I kissed you, you weren’t like this. According to what you’re saying, back then… were you just following a plan?”
Ren Dongliu got annoyed, her temper flaring up inexplicably. She pushed Xiang Yu away—
“Don’t act all high and mighty after getting what you want.”
With that, she walked out of the shrubbery.
Xiang Yu hurriedly chased after her.
The bushes rustled from their tugging and pulling, branches and leaves slapping back and forth. From the outside, it looked just like two little cats fighting.
Xiang Yu grabbed Ren Dongliu’s arm and, without thinking, pulled her into her embrace, holding her tightly.
It was strange—Ren Dongliu clearly wanted to push her away, clearly wanted to break free from her arms, but for some reason, she calmed down in Xiang Yu’s forceful restraint. The arm that had been wedged between them unconsciously climbed onto Xiang Yu’s shoulders, as if it were the most natural movement in the world.
Suddenly, she heard Xiang Yu say—
“Have you ever thought about our future?”
Moonlight filtered through the tangled branches and leaves in mottled patches, a beam of clear light falling on Xiang Yu’s face. Her eyes sparkled brightly in the dimness.
“Ren Dongliu, I want to be with you forever. I don’t want to be apart from you.”
“I… I came out to my aunt.”
“…You’re crazy.”
After leaving the shrubbery, they walked to an open area in the neighborhood that had been cordoned off for installing fitness equipment. The large machines lay scattered on the ground, not yet installed, and with the surrounding darkness, no one was around.
