MAMA-27: You Will Rise Above.
“Does this also count as part of the Additional Contract?” Mi Shanxin’s bed was too narrow. Jian Wanji was tall, her frame a size bigger than Mi Shanxin’s. But she didn’t look imposing in the slightest, not as solid as the fit female classmates Mi Shanxin saw on her Moments.
Mi Shanxin had no spare money for fitness. Filling her stomach and sleeping well were her ultimate goals. Li Yin had once bought a trial Pilates class and invited Mi Shanxin along. Mi Shanxin, standing to the side, had nearly fainted, not believing she could cosplay Xiao Longnü, suspended up there.
“Isn’t it for sleep assistance?” Mi Shanxin turned her head but couldn’t quite press against Jian Wanji’s cheek. The woman seemed to disdain how narrow and hard the bed was and sat back down on the stool nearby.
Perhaps the glow from the space heater was too hypnotic; the warmth gave the illusion of being able to hibernate. Even Jian Wanji, well before her usual bedtime, felt a little sleepy.
She yawned, rubbing her messy, curly bangs. “Do you have an eye mask?”
Mi Shanxin: “I think so.”
She asked Jian Wanji to open the desk drawer. With a clatter, the drawer handle fell to the floor. The woman stared blankly at the handle in her hand and gave a dry laugh. “Your place is really…”
Mi Shanxin was quite accustomed to it. “It’s fine, just put it back on later.”
Young as she was, she had an old soul’s demeanor, her temperament so steady it lacked any youthful liveliness. Jian Wanji felt this even more strongly—a little girl should have at least some of a little girl’s unreasonable tantrums.
Even when she was bottled up back then, at least she found outlets in other ways.
Like riding a bicycle along the riverbank. But Mi Shanxin’s stamina was poor; she probably wouldn’t make it two li before collapsing and being carted off in an ambulance.
Jian Wanji had never raised a child, but at this moment, she had the feeling of a daughter dropped from the sky.
The funniest part was that Mi Shanxin was supposed to play her mother. What kind of conjugated mother-daughter plotline was this? Jian Wanji chuckled again.
Mi Shanxin stared at her. “Are you feeling embarrassed? I told you, it’s fine.”
“Just speechless.” The woman tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. Mi Shanxin had noticed Jian Wanji’s somewhat exaggerated ear piercing before, but hidden by hair, it wasn’t clear.
Now she saw Jian Wanji’s ear piercing practically connected through the ear cartilage. The silver ornament was like a wooden rod, bridging the earlobe and the ear cartilage.
“Doesn’t it hurt?” Mi Shanxin asked.
“What?” Jian Wanji put the handle aside. “This cabinet is older than I am. I haven’t seen this style in years.”
The pig-liver red color was already inherently dated. Nowadays, many renovating old houses would repaint it.
Mi Shanxin’s place was filled with traces of living, yet possessions were still few. It was as if you could pack her up, person and luggage, without needing a moving van—Jian Wanji’s car could transport Mi Shanxin’s entire life.
“Grandpa brought it back from his work unit. Probably retired and discarded.” Mi Shanxin pointed at Jian Wanji’s ear again. “Your ear hole is very exaggerated.”
Jian Wanji touched her ear. “Only one side. This is called an ear bridge piercing, right here.”
She shared her piercing with Mi Shanxin. Mi Shanxin slightly propped herself up, the blanket slipping down to reveal an unguardable expanse of chest, along with marks she had pinched onto herself.
Too small, whether it was the contour of her chest or the overall feeling she gave off.
Jian Wanji averted her gaze, but Mi Shanxin asked, “Can I get one?”
“It hurts a lot.” Jian Wanji grabbed her hand and pressed it against her own right ear.
Normally, Jian Wanji’s sideburns were enough to cover her ear. Many times, when the wind blew, you could only see the faint glint of her studs. Even during their previous close contacts, Mi Shanxin hadn’t discovered it.
Jian Wanji wore too many disguises of frivolity; essentially, she kept a very strong sense of distance.
Mi Shanxin, on the contrary, was the one lacking propriety. She wanted to get close, to be comforted, to have those fingers please her.
If possible, lips and tongue would do, a body would do too.
She was willing; it didn’t mean Jian Wanji was.
This woman, without a single cheap item on her body, appearing in this cramped little room was already dreamlike enough. Let alone being coerced into doing such things.
Mi Shanxin discovered she was a little bad.
And she indulged that badness. There was no helping it; Jian Wanji was the one who couldn’t do without her.
If blame had to be placed, blame that conversation in the cafe that day. Who told Zeng Baian to choose the seat right next to hers? Blame Jian Wanji’s eyes for being too sharp; blame her parents for giving her a face that just happened to resemble the other’s deceased mother.
Mi Shanxin’s fingers weren’t cold, but Jian Wanji’s ear cartilage was slightly cool. As her finger traced the ear bridge, the woman subconsciously flinched.
She didn’t much like this kind of touch. People used to living alone always resist the closeness of others.
A youth devoid of pure closeness meant that when she grew older and saw relationships tangled with interests of all kinds, Jian Wanji thought even less about taking things further.
She admitted to wanting it both ways: wanting someone’s unreserved love, yet being stingy with her own unreserved devotion.
Sui Yuqian commented on her terrible values, saying she was too self-interested and would crash one day.
Online folks generally describe this kind of crash as “an old house catching fire.” In your case, it might be an explosion.
Jian Wanji scoffed at this. She said, I know it doesn’t exist, and I won’t allow it.
She had struggled until now, finally achieving a life where she didn’t have to constantly watch her account balance. Why should she allow someone else to reap the benefits?
Even if same-sex couples couldn’t marry, it still implied commitment. Weighed against the life-and-death bond pledged in blood by her parents and her own ten-plus years rising and falling as a mercenary merchant, balancing emotion and gain and loss—it always boiled down to “forget it.”
Better to avoid trouble.
Relationships handled with money were much better. If it were pure emotion, then it would truly be impossible to untangle.
“Still hurts now?” Mi Shanxin had been kneading for a long time, from the cartilage to the bone, like an inspection, not even sparing the earlobe.
“It doesn’t hurt as long as you’re not pressing on the bridge jewelry.” Jian Wanji could tell Mi Shanxin’s current position was inconvenient, so she turned slightly to make it easier for the other to move, while also pulling the blanket up, attempting to cover the parts the girl seemed oblivious to having exposed.
Mi Shanxin switched hands, and the blanket fell again. Completely unbothered, she asked, “How do you take this apart?”
Jian Wanji turned her head away, avoiding facing the spot aimed at her. “You want me to take it apart and show you?”
“Can I try?” Mi Shanxin asked.
“…Fine.”
“Very reluctant?” the girl pressed.
Jian Wanji’s social circle didn’t have same-sex peers this age. People like Mi Shanxin were classified as juniors. If it were role-playing, Jian Wanji was the junior here.
The ultimate interpretation of the sleep assistance in that contract rested with Mi Shanxin, meaning that during this time slot every day, Jian Wanji was at her mercy.
Perhaps she could refuse, but facing Mi Shanxin’s gaze, which rarely held any strong emotion, Jian Wanji softened. “Go ahead, take it apart.”
“But are you sure you can still sleep? I feel like you’re getting more and more energetic.”
Mi Shanxin seriously studied Jian Wanji’s ear, clipping her hair back with a hairpin she found by the bed. Jian Wanji was like her model. “Later you can just prod me again and it’ll be fine.”
“What? Did you use some really terrifying word?” The corner of Jian Wanji’s mouth twitched; she was somewhat unable to keep up with young people’s vocabulary these days.
She had never admitted to being old before, mostly surfing the web at 5G speeds, confident she could chat with anyone and not miss any new slang.
“Prod…” As Mi Shanxin disassembled, she counted. “One, two… you have six ear holes?”
Jian Wanji’s gaze wandered, trying hard to ignore this irritating tactile sensation. Her voice was still airy. “Probably, from many years ago.”
“How many years?” Mi Shanxin asked seriously, while also putting Jian Wanji’s ear bridge jewelry back. Moving from the front to the second wheel was already garish enough; such an ornament was unexpectedly not cumbersome, nor did it make clinking sounds. It was like a hidden attribute, requiring her to scratch it open to see.
“From when I was about your age.” Jian Wanji wasn’t entirely sure. “Definitely not high school; the school banned it, and back then, ear cuffs didn’t have this many styles either.”
Leaning very close, Mi Shanxin could smell Jian Wanji’s more delicate fragrance. She never wore heavy makeup, perhaps also because her facial features and bone structure were very sculpted.
Simple eyeshadow with a bit of fine shimmer; when she smiled, it sparkled even more.
Mi Shanxin liked shiny things, just like a crow likes gemstones.
Jian Wanji was like a gem inside a bottle. The crow lacking kindness finally managed to drink the water, but its greed was boundless; it wanted to smash the bottle and carry off this imperishable jewel.
“Did you get it together with… Sister Zeng Baian?” Mi Shanxin pressed the earring stud and kneaded Jian Wanji’s ear again. The other winced in pain but didn’t scold Mi Shanxin. Saying “it hurts” was still tinged with laughter, as if allowing Mi Shanxin to do even more excessive things.
“Sister?” Jian Wanji laughed. “No, she’s gone the ‘good woman’ route now—no smoking, no drinking, just one ear hole, and that was done after she started dating.”
“And you?”
“What about me?”
“Did you get yours after dating too?”
Seeing Mi Shanxin had finished playing, Jian Wanji rubbed her own hot ear root and covered Mi Shanxin with the blanket again. “Before final exams, I was under a lot of pressure, so I went and got one.”
“Every time the stress built up to an unbearable point, I’d go get another one.”
Jian Wanji shrugged. “I thought about getting one on my face. That was too outrageous; I didn’t dare back then, and even less so now.”
Mi Shanxin made an “oh” sound. “Afraid your mom would scold you.”
Jian Wanji subconsciously said, “My mom already—”
Before the word “died” could even leave her mouth, Jian Wanji realized the ‘mom’ Mi Shanxin referred to was her own grandmother, so she laughed. “How come you suddenly started acting again?”
Mi Shanxin, however, changed the subject. “Actually, my childhood dream was to be a star.”
Jian Wanji was slightly surprised. Her gaze swept over Mi Shanxin’s face. “You’re actually qualified. Prettier than many second-generation celebs.”
Mi Shanxin shook her head. “I’m not tall enough.”
Jian Wanji laughed. “What does that matter? It’s not like you can only play one kind of role.”
She always had this feeling that nothing was a big deal. Mi Shanxin rarely self-loathed, mostly drifting in a state of numbness, akin to a wandering spirit, passing through days unnoticed. Only the sleep disorder tormented her.
But on a night like this, her world became the glow of the space heater, making even Jian Wanji seem like a gilded deity, compassionate only to her.
Mi Shanxin added, “I just hoped there would be many people who liked me.”
Jian Wanji didn’t know what to say again.
It seemed many words were stuck in her throat. Her prized silver tongue had no room to maneuver in front of Mi Shanxin.
The other wasn’t a scheming business partner, nor a vendor with who-knew-how-many traps in every sentence. She drifted outside normal colleague relationships, not a friend, not a junior either.
Yet their bodies were closer than anyone’s.
To define them as friends-with-benefits was also wrong. She was purely a tool. This kind of thing had no cooperative relationship to speak of.
An odd role-playing game. Outside working hours, Mi Shanxin would occasionally interject, acting as mother, as daughter, without necessarily needing to be anyone to Jian Wanji.
“You will.” Jian Wanji ruffled Mi Shanxin’s hair. “Anything is possible.”
“I won’t.” Mi Shanxin looked at her. Her cheeks still held the lingering pink flush of unresolved desire. These eyes were placid and still in the light, a far cry from the sparkle of curiosity just moments before.
She was like a malfunctioning engine; the ignition lasted only briefly. Stalling was her optimal state.
“How do you know it won’t?” When Jian Wanji smiled, that mole was too beautiful. Mi Shanxin looked again and again, then reached out to grab the curly hair cascading down as the other bowed her head, winding it around her fingers. “I just know.”
“I say it will, so it will.” Jian Wanji suddenly yanked the blanket up, covering Mi Shanxin’s face. The light disappeared. Her voice filtered through the cotton blanket, hazy and dreamlike. Her ambiguous speech and breath misted against the tender inner thigh. “Mi Shanxin, my student, you will rise above the rest.”
Mi Shanxin didn’t absorb a word. She only felt Jian Wanji leaning very close, as if about to bite her with those lips.
But she didn’t.
Mi Shanxin heard the sound of a package being torn open. Jian Wanji glanced at the time, saying, “I got a new box. It shouldn’t be as intense as yesterday’s.”
Her voice sounded as professional as a doctor’s. “Don’t close your legs, I can’t see clearly.”
Mi Shanxin: “Cold.”
Jian Wanji seemed to push the space heater closer. “Then warm yourself a bit.”
Perhaps because Mi Shanxin’s face was covered, Jian Wanji also relaxed a lot. “Today’s is Longjing flavored, but you probably can’t smell it.”
“Tell me if it’s uncomfortable. It would be even better if you could just fall asleep like this.”
…
In the early hours, Jian Wanji fixed the bathroom door at Mi Shanxin’s home and left, carrying her coat.
She stood at the entrance of the apartment building for a while.
The weather approaching Chinese New Year was very cold, daylight short, mostly overcast and gloomy.
In the dead of night like this, almost no one was out walking in the old residential complex.
Jian Wanji stood under the streetlight, rummaging through her pockets for ages. Quitting smoking and drinking wasn’t just for Zeng Baian, who wanted to be a “good woman.”
Jian Wanji didn’t want to be a good woman, but for her health, she had to quit these things. If the doctor herself hadn’t also been drinking iced Americanos while seeing patients, perhaps she wouldn’t have allowed Jian Wanji to keep consuming caffeine.
Jian Wanji pulled out a box of breath mints from her pocket, chewed them as she walked outside, got in her car, and drove back.
How many more days would this last? Jian Wanji’s hands trembled slightly as she gripped the steering wheel. Ignoring the time, she asked in the group chat for the blood-nourishing health supplement Zeng Baian had recommended last time.
Sui Yuqian, still gaming at this hour, sent several mocking emojis, teasingly asking: [Big Sister Daji just got off work?]
Zeng Baian was probably working on year-end reports and hadn’t slept either. She asked: [Still working overtime? Why is Sui Yuqian so free lately?]
She didn’t know Jian Wanji and Mi Shanxin had signed an Additional Contract. Sui Yuqian began to spout nonsense: [She’s experiencing life, has a side gig too.]
Zeng Baian, puzzled: [Don’t you have no mortgage or car loan? How broke can you even be?]
The small group of three—only Zeng Baian possessed the middle-aged starter pack, while the other two friends were still messing around in life. One of them didn’t even date. She occasionally felt anxious about it.
Seeing Jian Wanji not reply, Zeng Baian tagged her again.
Sui Yuqian, enjoying the drama, added fuel to the fire: [Being a service top, can’t handle it anymore, huh.]
Zeng Baian: [??]
Jian Wanji replied with a voice message: “Stop slandering me.”
She regretted asking in the group and added a follow-up text: “Forget it if you won’t tell me. I’ll just buy something random.”
Sui Yuqian, ever the blabbermouth, poured oil on the fire: “How was the gift I sent? Can’t it lighten your load?”
Jian Wanji recalled the image of Mi Shanxin playing with herself until her eyes rolled back. Struggling to forget those less-than-green-and-healthy images, she parked her car and went home. Viciously, she recorded a voice message: “It was just an appetizer. You keep this stuff for your own service top gig.”
————————!!————————
Jian Wanji: [Okay] Little Shanxin, easily handled.
