That evening, after Luo Qingmeng finished eating the coconut chicken she’d made herself, she read a book for a while and went straight to bed. But as she lay there stiffly, she inexplicably found herself suffering from insomnia. So she climbed out of bed again, read a novel for a bit, but her fingers kept drifting uncontrollably to check her phone messages.
By all rights, after eating her food tonight, Qiu Shuxue should have come pestering her.
Could it be that Qiu Shuxue felt guilty for eating her food and decided to play the good guy for once today?
But Qiu Shuxue wasn’t the type. She was like a snake, always wrapping herself around Luo Qingmeng. The nicer Luo Qingmeng was to her, the more she should cling.
Even by the next day, Qiu Shuxue still hadn’t come to bother her. Luo Qingmeng simply couldn’t figure it out. Fortunately, she hadn’t stayed up too late with her insomnia the night before. After finishing her book and stewing in speechless bafflement for a while, she hugged her pillow and fell asleep.
In the morning, Luo Qingmeng gathered up the household trash, placed it outside her door to take down later, grabbed her bag, changed her shoes, and headed out. When she went back for the trash, she was stunned.
The trash was gone.
Luo Qingmeng first checked the hallway surveillance camera. While she was changing her shoes, Qiu Shuxue had come by and taken the trash away. She frowned, her expression saying I knew it. But soon, something felt off.
She hurriedly took the elevator downstairs. At the bottom, Qiu Shuxue was just tossing the trash into the bin on the side. Qiu Shuxue sensed her presence and turned her head. “Hm? What’s up?”
Luo Qingmeng’s emotions were too complicated, but Qiu Shuxue grasped them in an instant. “Sis… you didn’t think I was going to rummage through your trash bag to see if there was anything Yi Yu could collect, did you?”
Luo Qingmeng choked, at a loss for words. That thought had indeed crossed her mind. Qiu Shuxue didn’t press further and just chuckled softly. She circled around from the side and stood next to her. “Let’s go.”
The back door was closer for both of them, and Qiu Shuxue was carrying a bag too. As she fished out her keys, Luo Qingmeng glanced at it. It was that almond green Hermès model. Qiu Shuxue pulled out her car keys and looked at Luo Qingmeng.
“…Hm? Still thinking about it?”
“No.” Luo Qingmeng snapped back to attention and shook her head vigorously.
“Though…” Qiu Shuxue toyed with her car keys, pondering seriously. “If you tossed out clothes next time, I probably would rummage through them.”
“You…” Luo Qingmeng’s cheeks flushed hot with anger. The word pervert lingered on her lips several times.
Qiu Shuxue’s lips curved in a smile. Luo Qingmeng knew she was probably joking. How could someone as beautiful and clean as her do something so sordid?
But… Qiu Shuxue wasn’t exactly proper either.
Fancying widows and secretly messing around with married women.
What a…
Familiarity bred ease. Having grown accustomed to riding in Qiu Shuxue’s car, Luo Qingmeng didn’t put up her usual pointless resistance that morning. She let Qiu Shuxue drive her to work. When they arrived, she got out, and Qiu Shuxue rolled down the window to wave at her. “Have fun saving money, sis.”
Luo Qingmeng arrived at the bookstore to find Chen Xin and Auntie Cai already there. Everyone had come in early and finished the morning’s work. Now all eyes were on her.
“Sis…” Chen Xin sidled over and called out to her.
Luo Qingmeng knew exactly what she wanted to ask, but she pretended not to notice. She casually checked the work group chat. It had been eerily quiet yesterday—no word from the boss about what to promote today.
She checked the work log. They’d ordered a new batch of books a few days ago, due to arrive from the warehouse around eleven.
“Sis…” Chen Xin called again.
Luo Qingmeng looked up with a frown. Chen Xin immediately swallowed her gossip and said, “Just asking what we’re promoting today.”
Luo Qingmeng eyed the new arrivals. On top was Strait is the Gate by the French author André Gide. She hadn’t read it yet and didn’t know the content. She didn’t like recommending books offhand. “Stick with yesterday’s.”
“Oh, okay, okay.” Chen Xin went to put up the sign, glanced back at her, then sighed. Her demeanor seemed to say: As expected, marriage troubles have made her lose interest even in books.
Luo Qingmeng bit her lip. She sat down, picked up a nearby book, and read to tune out the chatter.
The store stayed empty all morning. At eleven, they handled the new stock. She checked her phone—still no pestering messages from Qiu Shuxue. She ate lunch, and everything remained quiet. Chen Xin remarked, “Sis, you’ve been checking messages nonstop. Is it you and that Li An…”
Luo Qingmeng turned and walked to the register counter, where she sat down and kept reading with her head lowered.
The book featured this description of the heroine Alisa by the male protagonist: 【I was intoxicated by love and pity, by the mingled and hazy stirrings of passion, devotion, and virtue, calling upon God with all my might, willing to renounce any goal in my own life…】
The protagonist had witnessed his aunt’s infidelity and comforted his heartbroken cousin. His first love was portrayed as straightforward and devout, a solitary act of bravery. Now, Luo Qingmeng just saw it as a boy’s heroic outburst of sexual awakening—nothing to do with real love.
Propping her chin, Luo Qingmeng wondered if Qiu Shuxue felt the same toward her. Had witnessing Li An’s cheating ignited some heroic impulse in her? But since Qiu Shuxue was an adult, she expressed it bluntly through sex.
The more she thought, the more she frowned. What was she doing? Why did she have to drag Qiu Shuxue into everything she read? That wasn’t a good habit at all!
Luo Qingmeng closed the book and got busy with work. Around four in the afternoon, customers picked up and stayed steady through the evening rush until seven. She’d hoped to rest afterward, but the boss showed up. Maybe the widow-who’d-just-had-a-wedding bombshell had piqued her curiosity too. The boss kept dropping hints that she wanted the inside scoop.
Luo Qingmeng had just accepted fruit from the boss and couldn’t brush her off. She forced herself to skim Strait is the Gate for a bit. She’d just overturned her view of the protagonist’s love for Alisa—it had nothing to do with sex—when the boss called out to her. She replied, “It was nothing. The store was hectic then. I only said it to get the customer to sign up for a membership.”
“I’ve been through it all, Qingmeng. Tell me.” The boss leaned on the register counter, eager to help. “That doesn’t sound like a joke you’d make.”
Luo Qingmeng gritted her teeth and bluffed, “He’s a eunuch, impotent—not even as good as gay—and covered in diseases. Disgusting.”
“Oh… like that, huh.”
“He has terminal cancer too. Won’t last past the fifteenth of next month. He’ll get hit by a car on the way out, that scumbag… Anyway, customers are here. Back to work.”
The boss had been listening raptly and sighed in disappointment. “We’ll pick it up later.”
“…”
Luo Qingmeng kept telling herself, She’s the boss, she’s the boss. She repeated it to herself for ages, but the boss still wouldn’t leave.
Finally, closing time arrived, but Luo Qingmeng’s worst fear came true. The boss said, “Qingmeng, let me give you a ride. I’m not busy tonight. Hop in my car.”
Chen Xin grinned. “Lucky you, sis. You’ve had rides home lately.”
The boss laughed. “Oh? Who’s that?”
Luo Qingmeng glanced outside. Qiu Shuxue wasn’t there yet. She shot back, “Nobody.”
“Come on, come on.” The boss urged.
Luo Qingmeng had no choice but to go with her. She’d been wondering why Qiu Shuxue hadn’t pestered her today. As she shrugged on her coat and fastened the buttons, she spotted someone standing in front of the bubble tea shop ahead. Who else could it be but Qiu Shuxue?
Qiu Shuxue held one cup of tea; the other was still being prepared by the shop assistant. She noticed the movement and glanced over, her gaze shifting to the boss. Her eyes narrowed slightly.
Lost in gossip, the boss asked Luo Qingmeng, “So what are you planning? Are you living together now, or are you on your own? How’s the divorce settlement going?”
Luo Qingmeng frowned and quickened her pace, entering the elevator with the boss. She couldn’t hold back. “He bought the house before we married—it’s all premarital property. He doesn’t have as much money as I do. He offered compensation, but now I can’t even see the guy.”
“What a cheap bastard.”
The angrier Luo Qingmeng got, the more it stung. Hadn’t she been in a tough spot back then too? She hadn’t overthought it, just figured they’d each live their lives and make it work. She hadn’t cared about those details.
Now she cursed Li An’s future: Cheap scum, may you be cut off from your lineage, get cancer, and let your affair partners catch every disease.
She’d bottled it up for so long with nowhere to vent. This was just a fraction—she skipped the mistress part.
The boss drove her to the subway station near the complex and eyed the neighborhood. “Nice place. I’d have to think twice before buying here.”
“I’m renting with someone.” Luo Qingmeng lied. She unbuckled her seatbelt to get out, but the boss added, “I’ll drop you right at the door. No traffic ahead, just a short way.”
“No need.” Luo Qingmeng didn’t want the boss knowing where she lived—or that she was next door to the mistress, getting revenge on the scumbag and his whore.
She got out, thanked the boss, who seemed about to say something. Luo Qingmeng hoped she’d drop it—the gossip ended here.
The boss drove ahead to turn around and left. Luo Qingmeng walked toward the complex, fuming all the way. She dreaded the boss telling anyone and messaged her: 【Can you not tell anyone? Thanks.】
She entered through the back door. The garage was on the first underground level. She didn’t know if Qiu Shuxue was back yet. Up on her floor, she pretended nonchalance as she unlocked her door.
Once inside, she immediately checked the surveillance footage. After half an hour, no sign of Qiu Shuxue. She scrolled her phone again—still no reply.
Luo Qingmeng made dinner and then checked her phone again, but there were still no messages. She told herself to focus solely on her own matters. She pulled out the unfinished copy of Strait is the Gate and began to read. She had picked it up hoping for a heartbreaking tale of undying love, but as she read on, she lost interest in the protagonists’ romance and grew increasingly sorry for Alisa, who bore the heavy shadow of her “mother’s affair.” Tears started falling as she read, especially in the section where the heroine died. Reading the heroine’s diary entries from before her death, Luo Qingmeng’s sympathy deepened into profound melancholy. Alisa had Jerom’s steadfast love that endured to the end, as well as her sister Alice’s tender concern. But she, Luo Qingmeng, had nothing. Her lonely soul drifted endlessly, and every time she poured her passion into something wholeheartedly, it was snuffed out by the cold wind.
It was a habit Luo Qingmeng had developed over time: she liked to make notes right in her books, from beginning to end. On the very last page, she wrote in her neatest handwriting.
“Alisa, how I wish I could become you—someone to love me, someone who would still love me even after my death, believing my virtues to be irreplaceable.
Dear Alisa, you are nothing like your mother…”
When she came back to herself, she realized she had filled an entire page. She set down her pen and cried quietly for a while, sitting on the floor with her back against the sofa, letting the night deepen around her as she wiped away her tears.
After her crying spell, she checked her phone again, but it remained silent.
Luo Qingmeng washed her face and went straight to bed. She was a little afraid of dreaming about Alisa—and even more afraid of dreaming about herself.
She tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Vaguely, she sensed the door opening, and someone entered from outside. Their footsteps were very light, and her body felt paralyzed, unable to move.
Luo Qingmeng watched as the person walked into the room. The house was pitch black, but Qiu Shuxue switched on the light with familiar ease. She leaned against the door, her eyes curving upward in a slight smile. “Sister, why aren’t you asleep yet? Your eyes are still brimming with tears.”
“Why are you here? Why didn’t you… send a message to ask if it was okay first?” Luo Qingmeng stared at her, her breathing quick and uneven.
“Oh, that,” Qiu Shuxue said. “There are only a limited number of additional messages I can send. I couldn’t get one through to you. Ah…” She sighed. “What a shame.”
Luo Qingmeng frowned too. Why did she also feel a twinge of regret? That was so strange—and moreover…
Qiu Shuxue gazed at her intently, like a fish staring helplessly at the one on the cutting board. “Sister, can I have a kiss?”
“What are you trying to do this time?”
Qiu Shuxue walked over as she spoke and sat down on the edge of the bed. She lowered her head, her voice growing softer and softer. “I couldn’t come harass you tonight. I miss you so much.” She drew closer, resting her forehead gently against Luo Qingmeng’s neck. “The more I think about you, the more I want to get near you, to touch you.”
She reached out to touch her clothes.
The words were shockingly direct. Luo Qingmeng shrank back with a soft hum, trying to dodge, unwilling to give in yet unable to break free. Soon, she let out a gentle “ah” and opened her eyes, fully awake. She gasped for breath in big gulps, her body covered in a layer of hot sweat that clung stickily to her skin.
…It had been a dream.
But how could she have a dream like that?
The dream struck her as utterly absurd. She pressed her fingers to her face while her other hand yanked her nightgown down hard from her waist.
Her chest heaved with each breath, and a crushing sense of oppression settled over her.
Her phone still had no messages.
Qiu Shuxue… why was there no word from her?
Could it be that Li An had gone to her place, and the two of them were sneaking around together right now—having an affair?
The thought grew more ridiculous by the second, vivid images flashing through Luo Qingmeng’s mind. She could hardly catch her breath. She desperately wanted to go bang on the door and ruin everything.
