Chapter 8

Qiu Shuxue took a few steps back and watched as she undressed. Luo Qingmeng had even changed into a thin knitted sweater paired with jeans before heading out the door.

Luo Qingmeng felt uncomfortable under her gaze and said, “It’s cold outside. You’ll catch a cold.”

“No, I won’t. There’s still heat on inside—it’s nice and warm. I’ll go turn it up.” Qiu Shuxue had a clingy tone to her voice. “Sis, you can’t go back on your word like that.”

“So what if I do? What are you gonna do about it?” Luo Qingmeng muttered softly. She huffed and added, “Do you still want dinner or not?”

Between dinner and devouring her, Qiu Shuxue obviously chose the latter. She could skip the meal, but she couldn’t pass up touching this woman. Qiu Shuxue’s stomach was already growling with hunger. She said, “…Yeah, you’re right—I really can’t do anything to you. But Sis, if you go back on your word, then I can do the same to you later. I’ll learn from the best.”

“…”

Luo Qingmeng’s hand paused as she chopped vegetables. She steeled herself and said, “Fine, then I won’t cook for you! Take all the stuff back yourself. I don’t want it anymore.”

Qiu Shuxue hadn’t expected her to say that. She froze for a moment, then walked up behind Luo Qingmeng and coaxed her softly. “Sorry, Sis. How could I ever go back on my word with you? I’m terrified you’ll ignore me. I just wanted to see—that outfit looked so sexy on you. Since we bought it, it’s all yours anyway. You just went to the trouble of unpacking everything. If I took it back home, I’d have to make trip after trip delivering it, and then you’d have to come over to my place trip after trip to check it all off… it’d be such a hassle. It’d break my heart to see you worn out like that.”

Luo Qingmeng listened to this and felt something off. It was like she was being threatened. What did Qiu Shuxue mean—did she really have to make all those trips to her place if she sent the stuff back?

But that kind of threat wasn’t entirely unreasonable.

Luo Qingmeng didn’t want to go to her home. Her emotions were all tangled up. Qiu Shuxue drew closer, resting her chin on Luo Qingmeng’s shoulder, and whispered softly, “I don’t want you giving it back to me, Sis.”

“I want to eat the dinner you make.” It sounded like she was spilling her heart out. “Truth is, even back at Li An’s place, watching you cook made everything smell amazing to me.”

“The food smelled delicious, but you smelled even better.”

Luo Qingmeng’s ears turned red. One sweet line after another, and she’d been won over despite herself. But she wasn’t that easy either—stripping down just like that? What would that look like?

She recalled the last time she’d cooked. She didn’t remember much, since she’d spent the whole day bustling around the kitchen. What stuck with her most was coming out with a plate of fruit for the guest and overhearing someone say she looked like a maid.

It had hurt her deeply. She’d only vented to Li An after the guest left.

Li An had comforted her, siding with her completely and promising never to bring that coworker over again. But then the coworker showed up a second time. She’d hinted to Li An about it, but he’d seemed to forget. Luo Qingmeng had felt so annoyed, wondering if she was just being petty.

Qiu Shuxue stood behind her and said, “That wasn’t the first time I’d seen you, Sis.”

Luo Qingmeng had just been lost in that memory when she was interrupted.

Qiu Shuxue’s hands reached around again. Luo Qingmeng didn’t know what came over her, but she let her take advantage this time. She didn’t move as Qiu Shuxue fooled around from behind.

Why was she doing this? Revenge?

But those grudges had nothing to do with Qiu Shuxue. It felt more like she was proving something to herself—that she wasn’t some free maid slaving away in the kitchen for others.

Luo Qingmeng thought she was acting awfully strange.

Even when Qiu Shuxue undid the buttons on her blouse, she stayed silent, letting her have her way. Qiu Shuxue turned her around, lifted her onto the counter, and sat her down. She felt cramped and wanted to get off, but Qiu Shuxue pressed forward. With her hands braced on the counter, she leaned in close. Qiu Shuxue was strikingly beautiful, with fair skin and an oval face—not the overly sculpted kind influencers had, but something like a mature beauty, even if she was younger. Her voice was soft and coquettish, her presence not overpowering.

Even the scent of her was intoxicating, far better than that of her sleazy ex, Li An. That was why Luo Qingmeng kept forgetting to push her away.

Qiu Shuxue gazed at her. “You’re so radiant—it makes me feel a little inferior. How come you never notice me, Sis?”

That line hit Luo Qingmeng right in the heart.

“You have to sign a note later… put your handprint on it… and say that everything we bought today belongs to me,” Luo Qingmeng said.

Qiu Shuxue agreed readily.

And so, Luo Qingmeng did something utterly humiliating—even cursing herself for it—but she went through with it anyway. She let Qiu Shuxue pull off her sweater and jeans, then tie an apron around her before getting back to cooking.

She was nervous. “No photos. You can only look…”

Qiu Shuxue tied the apron for her, her fingers lingering on Luo Qingmeng’s waist as she knotted the bow. “If you’re scared, I can take mine off too.”

Luo Qingmeng ignored her.

She pushed Qiu Shuxue away, tugged at the apron on her body, and turned her back resolutely. She lowered her head to the ingredients in front of her and chopped vegetables furiously, feeling like she’d been bullied.

If… if Qiu Shuxue tried anything truly outrageous, she’d kill her. Her own life wasn’t going so great anyway, while Qiu Shuxue had a bright future ahead. Dying together wouldn’t leave her at a loss.

There Luo Qingmeng stood at the counter in a pink apron, her skin fair and her back smooth. She didn’t have sharp, angular shoulders—her full chest made them seem a touch broader—but the curve of her spine was lovely.

She chopped vegetables and simmered soup, all while being admired, being watched… and at the same time, she enjoyed the way Qiu Shuxue was so captivated by her.

Qiu Shuxue was addicted, always coming over for a hug, sticking close. When Luo Qingmeng ignored her, she’d call out “Sis.”

Luo Qingmeng had left her underwear on, thinking it was sexier that way—and sure enough, Qiu Shuxue kept teasing at it.

She’d touch her waist, toy with the black straps. Luo Qingmeng’s heart raced in turmoil, pretending to herself that she was just wearing a backless dress. Qiu Shuxue kissed her back, her lips brushing her shoulder.

She took a deep breath, wanting to push her away yet liking the sensation. It made her feel like some bizarre chef—from initial resistance to now enjoying Qiu Shuxue’s touches. Qiu Shuxue wrapped her arms around her waist, then tilted her chin up as if to kiss her. “Sis, you’re so sexy.”

Luo Qingmeng’s hand jerked, and she dumped chili peppers into the pot nonstop.

People in this city had light tastes, but she preferred hers heavy.

Luo Qingmeng thought to herself.

Qiu Shuxue, you look so prim and proper, like a refined lady from a good family.

But you’re actually so depraved—like a dog in heat.

Luo Qingmeng didn’t get all that online jargon, didn’t know she was a “wife” type or how to play up her sexy traits.

She just knew that when she cooked, Qiu Shuxue got ravenous.

So she made a ton of dishes.

When Luo Qingmeng bent over, Qiu Shuxue’s breathing grew ragged.

She turned off the stove and glanced back to see Qiu Shuxue’s eyes red—probably from the chili fumes.

“Can I sit on the counter once you’re done cooking? It seems even sexier that way.”

Qiu Shuxue looked like she had a lot to say, her expression all seductive invitation, but Luo Qingmeng didn’t fall for it. “Are you dumb? It’s still scorching hot from cooking—your butt couldn’t take it.”

“Serve the food,” Luo Qingmeng scolded her.

The kitchen was her domain. Qiu Shuxue had to obey.

“Got it.” Qiu Shuxue carried out the pot of seafood she’d cooked. Luo Qingmeng washed her hands clean, grabbed her clothes from the chair outside—where Qiu Shuxue had neatly folded them after helping her undress—went to the bedroom to put them on. They didn’t feel right, so she pretended to head to the bathroom to wash her hands, then turned on the tiniest trickle of water in the shower to rinse herself off. She didn’t dare wonder if Qiu Shuxue had noticed, but she was glad she’d worn… otherwise, Qiu Shuxue would’ve spotted it while she was cooking.

Luo Qingmeng took a deep breath. When she came out, the two of them got ready to eat. Luo Qingmeng frowned. “Why didn’t you wash the new bowls and chopsticks?”

“Sorry.” Qiu Shuxue fetched the bowls and chopsticks to wash them. Luo Qingmeng added, “Scald them with boiling water first to disinfect.” Seeing her fumbling around, she took over herself. But as she did, she remembered a joke she’d seen online—never indulge your partner too much, or they’ll play dumb on purpose so you’ll do it forever, and suddenly you’re stuck that way for life.

Luo Qingmeng shooed Qiu Shuxue over to supervise her instead—showing her step by step how to wash and disinfect them properly. She guided her hands, and Qiu Shuxue followed along with a smile, saying she’d gotten it. Luo Qingmeng didn’t stay mad.

The two of them ate together.

Luo Qingmeng was a great cook. Even without her bookstore job, she could make a living off her skills—open a little shop or run a food stall.

But Luo Qingmeng didn’t want that kind of life. She loved books. Before the bookstore, she’d worked in a factory. Sure, “factory girl” didn’t sound glamorous, but a decent one paid well for the hard work.

Shift work, pulling in six thousand a month with room and board covered. Sure, it was nonstop days and nights.

Here in the city, four thousand barely covered expenses—you were always broke by month’s end, no stability, no hope in sight. Factories were tough, but just tough for a year or two.

Before starting at the bookstore, Luo Qingmeng had thrown herself into factory life, desperate for some savings. She was starting from absolute zero, no one to rely on.

These big shrimp they’d bought were impressively sized, but they didn’t taste as good as she liked. She preferred small sweet shrimp.

Qiu Shuxue was good at eating them, peeling the shells for her. They couldn’t finish it all—half a pot left over. Qiu Shuxue took the initiative to wash the dishes and came out saying, “We can have another meal with this tonight.”

Luo Qingmeng glanced at the leftovers in the pot but said nothing. Eating alone would waste it anyway, and it didn’t seem right for Qiu Shuxue to only have one meal.

By the time they’d finished all the chores, it was one thirty. Luo Qingmeng dried her hands and turned on the TV.

“Why didn’t you buy a projector?” Qiu Shuxue asked.

Luo Qingmeng picked out a spot and retorted, “What do you want to buy that for? Don’t we have a TV? It’s so big—isn’t that enough for you to watch?”

Qiu Shuxue pondered for a moment and said, “Mm, you’re right. But when you’re spending my money, at least try not to feel sorry for me.”

Luo Qingmeng couldn’t understand it. Did she have a masochistic streak?

Luo Qingmeng’s thriftiness ran deep in her bones, and she had no desire to let Qiu Shuxue lead her astray. After all, she still had to return to her own life someday.

She said, “Write me a note.”

“What kind of note?”

“Didn’t I say? All the stuff you bought belongs to me now—you can’t just take it with you.” Luo Qingmeng was afraid she might call the police later and demand she pay it back.

After all… she couldn’t exactly say, “I took off my clothes and showed her, and she said it’s mine.”

Luo Qingmeng didn’t trust Qiu Shuxue’s character.

Hmph.

Mistresses were all no good.

She couldn’t figure it out—a bright future ahead of her, billions of guys in the world, so why get tangled up with someone who already had a partner and a home?

Pfft.

Qiu Shuxue remembered at once and wrote her a note right away. With no ink pad handy, Luo Qingmeng fetched a red pen and had her smear it on her thumb for a print. Qiu Shuxue said she didn’t know how, so Luo Qingmeng squatted beside her, pinched her finger, and painted circles on the pad with the pen tip. Qiu Shuxue stared into her eyes the whole time.

Once everything was settled, Luo Qingmeng delivered the note to the bedroom. Then she grabbed a book and sat down on the tatami mat in the living room to read. After just forty minutes, sleepiness overtook her; she rolled onto her side and dozed off right there.

When she woke up again, Qiu Shuxue was still at her place, watching an English program—pure English with no translation. Qiu Shuxue had turned the volume all the way down and asked her, “Do you understand it? Want me to translate?”

Luo Qingmeng didn’t get it; she only knew two old men were arguing. She ignored her and watched for a bit before getting off the tatami mat. She gathered her clothes, folded them neatly, and wiped down the windows.

After bustling about, she headed to the kitchen to heat up the seafood hotpot, then tossed in a handful of noodles. She wasn’t bothering with side dishes that night.

But even after dinner, Qiu Shuxue showed no signs of leaving. Stuffed and content, she started playing coy, saying earnestly to Luo Qingmeng, “Sis, didn’t you buy a ton of bedding? Let me crash there too, okay?”

Luo Qingmeng said, “But I bought that for myself, not for you.”

Qiu Shuxue said, “But didn’t we agree you’d only buy groceries? I ate half the groceries, and the rest is yours. I’ll sleep half the night on the bedding, and the rest is yours.”

Luo Qingmeng felt there was some logic to it, yet something still seemed off. Were bookish, smart people’s brains wired differently?

That night as she lay in bed, Luo Qingmeng was still mulling it over. She burrowed under the covers and began thinking about yesterday’s Moonlight and that kiss—even letting her mind wander a little too far. She wondered what movie Qiu Shuxue had been watching and why she liked fooling around in the kitchen like that. It was the first time anyone had called her cooking sexy… And there was that moment in between; thinking back now, she felt a twinge of regret. When Qiu Shuxue had kissed her in the kitchen, she’d whispered low in her ear, “Sis wants to give you…” She hadn’t caught it clearly and had flinched away in outright refusal. Now she felt just a bit too timid…

Qiu Shuxue walked in. Luo Qingmeng heard the sound and jolted upright, propping herself up on her elbows to snap at the figure in the doorway. “Even if I’m letting you have half the bed, go sleep in the next room! What are you up to now?”

“I’m just grabbing this.” Qiu Shuxue’s phone screen glowed as she opened Luo Qingmeng’s nightstand drawer. Inside was a box of finger cots. Luo Qingmeng actually had no idea what they were for, but she eyed Qiu Shuxue’s fingers—slender and nimble—and remembered what had happened on the sofa that day.

Qiu Shuxue sat on the edge of her bed with the box in hand. The phone screen dimmed, leaving only faint moonlight filtering through the window. She fumbled to open it blindly amid the crinkling of torn plastic. She said, “Sis, you use half of these, and I’ll use the other half…”