Chapter 18: MAMA-18

MAMA-18: Mi Shanxin, you win.

The girl’s profile as she looked at the screen was deadly serious. Her eyelashes were thick. The dark circles on that pretty but listless face seemed more like decoration, not really affecting her looks.

But what did “play until tired” mean?

Jian Wanji’s mind short-circuited. She rarely failed to respond quickly.

“Just one week, and it stopped being effective again.” Mi Shanxin had just selected Braised Pork. Not finding the Sprite Bitter Gourd, she chose Cucumber Salad. Now she stared at the remaining menu for a long time, finally picking Smashed Century Egg with Green Pepper. “People online say the stimulation isn’t enough. So I need someone else to help me.”

“Wait,” Jian Wanji’s temple throbbed. She suspected she was overthinking. “What do you mean by ‘play with yourself’?”

The white pencil rotated between Mi Shanxin’s bony, thin fingers. It was clear that having something to hold in her hand was very relaxing for her.

Just like when Jian Wanji had audited her class, discovering that all her timidity disappeared when demonstrating writing. It seemed at those times, her own world became clearer.

Perhaps due to the slight change in Jian Wanji’s tone, the girl’s distinct black and white eyes finally gained some artificial embellishment under the light, like fish in an aquarium frozen in time suddenly starting to swim. Tilting her head slightly, she met Jian Wanji’s now unsmiling gaze. Her words came slowly, sticky with viscosity. “Masturbation.”

She looked at Jian Wanji, as if mocking her for making a fuss over nothing. “You’ve never done it?”

Jian Wanji’s temperament was just too loose, making it easy for people to impolitely imagine she had a rich romantic history, refusing no one. In fact, she had practically no interest in such things.

Anyone who knew her somewhat understood that Jian Wanji’s private life was crushingly boring.

Maybe other social engagements drained too much energy. She lived alone, no cats or dogs. The only living thing besides her, a gift from Zeng Baian, was the Syrian Yueyue had insisted on buying at the mall.

Currently, the little fellow had grown into a fat rat. Jian Wanji would expand its enclosure when she had nothing better to do; it already had many setups.

As for other things, like Sui Yuqian’s normal love and breakups, to Jian Wanji, even that was a waste.

Physical needs… maybe at her age, there wasn’t much necessary impulse. Jian Wanji didn’t even need hugs.

Sui Yuqian said she was faking, acting ascetic, careful not to flip over. Jian Wanji felt deeply wronged. She said she simply had no other needs. Who was she bothering by being single, that Sui Yuqian had to talk about her like that?

But Jian Wanji didn’t refuse Sui Yuqian’s invitation to gatherings either. She’d discuss another investor, then contentedly go back to write investment reports.

Colleagues witnessing all this felt both of them had problems. It was completely a work strategy dressed up as a same-sex matchmaking event, fundamentally malicious competition.

Even with Sui Yuqian, someone she was very familiar with, no one would ask such a direct question.

And ask it multiple times.

Seeing Jian Wanji silent, Mi Shanxin asked again, “You really never masturbate?”

It seemed Mi Shanxin had already asked very euphemistically last time, merely asking if she touched herself or not. Jian Wanji didn’t know how to comment on Mi Shanxin’s way of asking.

It seemed somehow both literary and unprofessional. Wait, was there a professional distinction for this?

Jian Wanji suspected her blood pressure was rising sharply, but she couldn’t show it. She subtly adjusted her breathing rhythm, but truly couldn’t smile. “Don’t you see how old I am?”

Mi Shanxin looked at her seriously, from her descending brows to her high nose bridge to her cool, indifferent Smile-Lip. She pursed her lips, muttering a retort, “You haven’t gone through menopause yet.”

Mi Shanxin’s retort still carried a hint of curiosity. “Menopause doesn’t affect it either, right? Does it?”

The girl’s gaze rarely held some emotion, showing that her growth process severely lacked female figures she could exchange experiences like this with.

Jian Wanji understood why Mi Shanxin admitted to being a gerontophile.

She had completely confused the concepts, mistaking her admiration for older women as romantic affection.

Wait, what exactly was there to admire about Zeng Baian?

She isn’t even as close to Mi Shanxin as I am.

This thought was fleeting, because Mi Shanxin was still poking the back of Jian Wanji’s hand with her pen tip. Holding the pen, the girl’s pale hands nearly matched the white electronic pencil. The blue blood vessels on it were prominent; very thin, also icy cold.

Jian Wanji, who racked her brains for work and occasionally used work as weekend stress relief, had better qi and blood than this twenty-year-old girl.

“Jian Wanji, I’m talking to you.”

The girl wasn’t timid either. She knew how to protect her rights, would call the police if harassed, and would seize an opportunity when it came.

She also knew how to put on airs, letting those begging her fall into a trap.

It had been a long time since someone had dug a pit for Jian Wanji. She almost instantly understood what Mi Shanxin’s additional condition was.

Jian Wanji took a deep breath, as if admitting defeat to Mi Shanxin’s audacity. “Change the condition.”

Mi Shanxin stared at her. Perhaps the indoor heating was high, and she wore many layers, so her cheeks were flushed red.

Jian Wanji sat beside her, half an arm’s length away, just in time to see the red marks on Mi Shanxin’s chin chafed by her stiff sweater collar.

No matter how rough Mi Shanxin lived, it couldn’t change the fact that she was still a tender shoot.

Besides, with her parents not wanting her, in the time she lived alone, even without being sleek and glossy, raising herself to this state was already very difficult.

“Then I won’t be your mother anymore.” Mi Shanxin put down the pen and got up to grab her backpack.

Jian Wanji’s weak spot was seized. She had no choice but to pull the person back down to sit on the sofa.

If they hadn’t met this way, Jian Wanji could have been harsher entirely. Given their relationship wasn’t close and she was the one asking, she couldn’t be fierce. The woman’s tone was mostly helpless. “Do you know what condition you’re proposing?”

Mi Shanxin didn’t look disappointed. She quietly gazed at Jian Wanji. The dark circles accumulated over years made her look even more exhausted than Jian Wanji.

“I know.”

“Then you should know this isn’t appropriate,” Jian Wanji rubbed her brow. “Wouldn’t this be actual harassment?”

Jian Wanji dressed very well. Her trousers were high-waisted, emphasizing her slim waist in this posture. Even the folds of her clothes made her more aesthetically pleasing to admire. Mi Shanxin glanced at the ring on the woman’s ring finger, guessing it might be a disguise for Jian Wanji’s work occasions. She didn’t know why her own mouth felt dry again.

“So you can refuse.” The girl rubbed the wrist Jian Wanji had clutched earlier, as if it still hurt, but her voice was icy cold. “If you don’t absolutely need me.”

Jian Wanji’s expression was complex. If anyone else had made this proposal, she would have flipped the table immediately. She could only give a wry smile and counter, “Do you absolutely need me?”

“What are you afraid of?” Mi Shanxin asked, puzzled. “I’m an adult, you’re an adult. You’re currently single, so am I.”

“What’s so embarrassing about it?” She seemed to think this didn’t match Jian Wanji’s first-meeting-harassment style. “Or do you have a regular sexual partner?”

Her terms got more explosive one after another. Jian Wanji’s headache intensified. “I’m not your classmate, I could still count as a stranger.”

It wasn’t that she hadn’t received certain hints and invitations. Some acts indeed didn’t need love to proceed. For some, stress relief was this kind of behavior. “Mi Shanxin, if you have a sleep disorder, you should get treatment, not randomly find someone to engage in this kind of not-quite…”

“If you don’t want to, then forget it. Don’t bother about me.” Mi Shanxin cut her off. She took her backpack, quickly slung it on. “Strangers don’t need to bother about me.”

After speaking, Mi Shanxin opened the door and walked out. This floor didn’t have many working people. The work environment was far better than Mi Shanxin had imagined.

Including Jian Wanji herself, far wealthier and more powerful than Mi Shanxin had imagined. It was just that their previous meetings had all been somewhat improper. Jian Wanji’s relentless pestering, plus being a childish adult who pursued perfect parking with countless reversals, had lowered Mi Shanxin’s expectations, making her think Jian Wanji was easily obtainable, able to solve her urgent need.

Mi Shanxin’s intuition told her extricating herself might not be easy. After all, she hadn’t deeply interacted with such a woman before.

Her life had many absences. The affection typical of parents, aunts, and uncles was completely absent. Grandparents were a generation apart after all. They raised her to be an old-fashioned kid, not very popular with peers.

Whether affection or scolding, Mi Shanxin had neither. Perhaps because she always focused her gaze on older women, she confirmed her sexual orientation earlier than anyone else, yet dared not tell her best friend.

Li Yin rejected this orientation. Mi Shanxin still wanted to be friends with her, so she always kept her mouth shut.

Suppression leads to problems. Mi Shanxin’s outlet before was her profession. Even if imposed by her grandfather initially, countless classic repertoires could calm her mind and spirit.

After entering university, the busy courses broadened her horizons. But there were too many excellent people. Her agitation was hard to dispel through the original method.

Mi Shanxin had seen doctors. The money spent, her father wouldn’t reimburse. He even said if she had mental problems, she should look for her mother, because her mother also had a mentally ill child.

The doctor said she was anxious, it needed time to ease.

Long-term medication didn’t work well and was expensive, too. Professional tools were all too costly, requiring calligraphy, painting, and metal-and-stone seal carving. Maintaining her own basic livelihood was already precarious. How could she bear to spend money solving a sleep disorder for which she could barely prescribe the right remedy?

For the current Mi Shanxin, a wonderfully good night’s sleep was still the most important thing.

Many times, Mi Shanxin wished she could just not have time anymore, sinking into deep sleep as if dying. So wonderful.

But she also wanted to live.

If Jian Wanji absolutely needed her, she would inevitably agree.

The girl walked very slowly, silently counting off seconds in her heart.

Ten seconds, five seconds, three seconds, two point five…

Please, absolutely, need me, okay?

At the second ten-second mark, she stopped in front of the elevator, staring dazedly at the numbers above.

Jian Wanji rushed out after her. The perfume scent she had changed for her enveloped her. The owner of this building came hurrying for her, frowning helplessly for her, lowering her head for her.

“Mi Shanxin, you win.”