Chapter 57

Tang Lian had once believed that the e-cigarettes so heavily promoted in recent years were just like sucking on fruit candies in pretty packaging with all sorts of flavors—convenient and quick, no lighter needed, no lingering smoke smell, and they easily ignited the urge to collect an entire series. She had been completely swayed by the hype.

But today she realized that old-school cigarettes were the real gems of the world. The one she had snatched from Nan Qi’s hand carried a flavor all its own.

This was a cigarette infused with “Nan Qi flavor.”

It bore a layer of serious yet crystalline green, verdant and crisp like icy rain. Wisps of damp vapor curled through the air, vanishing in a flash to reveal a sky rinsed spotless by a storm, vividly blue and pure, sunlight cascading down to bring hope and resolve. Incredibly sexy.

Yes, Tang Lian found this “Nan Qi flavor” utterly sexy. She was lost in it.

A starry flower bloomed at the tip of her heart, her entire body tingling with a delicious numbness.

The corners of her almond-shaped eyes took on pinkish flecks, burning with an intensity that made it hard to meet her gaze.

The cigarette was nearly spent, the glowing ember creeping toward the filter, and Tang Lian’s fingertip brushed the heat.

Reluctant to let it end, she sighed in the night, a sound laced with faint melancholy.

She lingered nostalgically for a moment before heading back to stub out the butt in the living room ashtray.

All the while, Nan Qi stood frozen in place, watching every word and gesture from Tang Lian, the shame churning in her heart only growing fiercer.

Every one of Tang Lian’s movements seemed to carry some profound, inexpressible meaning.

Hazy and elusive, its true intent impossible to pin down.

How could Tang Lian carry on so obliviously while she was stuck in this agonizing bind?

Desperate to shake off the awful, frustrating state, Nan Qi cracked the window wider. Cool wind rushed in more fiercely, her body exposed to the condensing chill of early winter, physically cooling the heat in her chest.

Bit by bit, she regained her composure.

She cleared her throat twice and forced some casual chatter, feigning calm. “Tang Lian, you got the projector set up? What movie are we watching tonight?”

She stepped back into the living room. The screen hanging on the wall already showed the projected image, up and running.

Tang Lian started to reply, but her eyes drifted to Nan Qi. The hand she had licked was still rigidly dangling at her side, as if detached from the rest of Nan Qi’s body like some separate entity.

Adorably pitiful, it stirred an instant impulse to tease.

Tang Lian promptly changed her mind.

She glanced around the room’s layout, an idea sparking quickly in her head.

A smile played at her lips. She blinked at Nan Qi and said softly, “Wait here for me a sec.”

So secretive—Nan Qi couldn’t help but grow curious.

She watched as Tang Lian got to work with exaggerated purpose. First, she dashed to the balcony and shut all the floor-to-ceiling windows, drawing the curtains to block the dazzling city lights outside.

Then she switched off the lights everywhere else, leaving only the living room aglow.

She even swapped the harsh white bulbs for a single orange-yellow warm lamp.

Tang Lian took down the screen she’d just hung and hauled in an old DVD player.

With her flurry of adjustments, the room dimmed several shades, turning hazy with interplaying light and shadow.

In one corner of the living room, a small table held the statue of the deity Wang Lingguan. Strands of sandalwood incense rose from the censer before it, filling the air with a soothing presence.

The elements came together to evoke the alleyways of 1980s or ’90s Shanghai—or perhaps the narrow cobblestone lanes beside an ancient Jiangnan town. Swallows might dart past to perch on eaves, chirping away, while from an open courtyard gate came the faint sound of a DVD playing. The atmosphere was perfect.

Atop the coffee table sat trendy cans of cola and bags of popcorn, quirky accents that clashed eras in a surreal way.

It was enough to leave anyone momentarily unsure what year it was.

Nan Qi breathed in the faint drifting sandalwood, her mind settling into tranquility. In this movie-watching setup Tang Lian had so carefully crafted, she felt safe and at ease, a quiet anticipation building for what was to come.

“What’d you put the screen away for?”

“We’re not using it.”

Nan Qi blinked in confusion. “Huh?”

Tang Lian flashed a radiant smile, tugged her over to the TV, and slid open two drawers. “Take a look.”

Nan Qi glanced down and gasped softly in surprise. The drawers were crammed full of DVDs!

Whoa, it really conjured up old memories.

“I love collecting these,” Tang Lian said. “Lots of classic discs inside—some I’ve watched, some I haven’t. Let’s use the DVD player tonight.”

“Pick whatever catches your eye. We’ll watch it together.” Tang Lian’s lips curved in a perpetual sweet smile, her voice soft and coaxing, laced with indulgence.

A faint, subtle glint flickered in her light brown eyes, too fleeting to catch.

Nan Qi didn’t notice.

She was genuinely thrilled by the stack of discs.

Video shops were a rarity on the streets these days; so many old records and CDs had gone out of print long ago.

The ones in Tang Lian’s home were priceless treasures.

She dropped into a squat at once, gingerly sifting through them. Spotting a beloved classic, she’d gasp like she’d unearthed buried gold, stars lighting her eyes as she rattled off titles in quick succession. She’d turn to Tang Lian, chattering about whether she’d seen it, which characters she liked—alive with excitement.

Unaware of her own shift, Nan Qi was gradually letting her guard down, her real emotions spilling out. Tang Lian sensed it keenly.

Evidently, this spur-of-the-moment ploy had struck gold by happy accident.

Her original aim remained unmet, but she’d reaped unexpected rewards.

Buoyed by Tang Lian’s eager responses, Nan Qi felt deeply content.

As she rummaged, she spotted a cluster of discs with blank cases—no labels at all, impossible to identify.

She picked one up. “Why doesn’t this one have a title?”

Tang Lian lifted her gaze languidly, her tone even. “Think it’s one of the special ones. Can’t quite recall—open it up and see.”

Nan Qi didn’t suspect a thing. She flipped open the case and peered at the disc.

Clatter!

The disc and case tumbled to the floor.

Nan Qi’s face blazed crimson, heat flooding to her earlobes. She stammered, words tumbling out in a jumble. “Th-this… how… why do you have something like this at home?”

Her speech utterly scrambled.

She couldn’t force out the word.

The image burned into her mind, looping relentlessly, hitting her like a thunderbolt. It was a hot potato she wished she could drop.

The disc’s top side bore the image of two long-haired women, clothes half shed: one kneeling, the other gripping her shoulders, leaning in to press her body between the woman’s thighs, tongue extended to kiss her chin.

The implications of that cover art needed no explanation.

Nan Qi had heard vague rumors of such things but never laid eyes on one.

Now she knew exactly what they looked like…

If this blind pick had turned up something like that, were all the others stacked together the same?

Her thoughts spun in chaos.

She suddenly recalled her earlier mood, polar opposite to now. This dim ambiance didn’t just soothe—it bred wild, wayward fancies. Like Tang Lian’s.

By now, she saw the real reason Tang Lian had ditched the projector.

And she’d played it so cool—Nan Qi hadn’t suspected a thing until the reveal.

Nan Qi eyed her with lingering dread. She wanted to grab the fallen disc before it scratched, but summoning the nerve to face those cover models again? Impossible. She was trapped.

Seeing Nan Qi find—and open—the disc just as planned, Tang Lian finally shed her mask of nonchalance. A bewitching smile bloomed on her face.

Her shoulders quivered with unrestrained laughter, black hair spilling wildly over her features. Light danced in her eyes, spilling a rosy flirtation; her pointed chin tilted up like a sly little fox working its charms.

Tease accomplished, she let her delight run free.

With graceful steps, she bent to retrieve the disc, blew away a speck of dust, and eased Nan Qi’s impasse.

She studied the cover models with perfect composure. “Oh, this one. Yeah, I stuck it in here. Totally forgot.”

Nan Qi didn’t buy a single word.

A skeptical hum escaped her nose.

Tang Lian shot her a glance, snapped the case shut, and slotted it back in the drawer. Then she pulled out the rest of the unmarked discs one after another, popping them open to inspect, muttering all the while, “Might as well check what these are too.”

Nan Qi’s jaw dropped in shock. She wanted to stop her, but Tang Lian was already ripping open the cases at top speed.

And whether intentionally or not, whenever Tang Lian took out the disc to inspect it, the side emblazoned with the promotional images always landed squarely in front of Nan Qi’s eyes, exposing every salacious detail in stark clarity. Nan Qi couldn’t even look away; she was forced to take in a barrage of poses she’d never even imagined in her life.

Linxi was an inland region, and on winter evenings, the temperature plunged to bitter lows.

Yet Nan Qi’s body was burning up right now, a roaring heat threatening to consume her entirely.

All the cooling from the earlier breeze had been for naught, her body and mind right back where they started.

Nan Qi’s breaths came in short, ragged gasps, like a fish stranded on the shore, desperate for water. Her exposed skin—cheeks, neck, ears—was flushed a deep crimson.

Her mind was a total blank.

Though Tang Lian was flipping through the disc, her peripheral vision never left Nan Qi, catching every twitch and reaction.

She watched with keen fascination as the exact shade of shy embarrassment she craved bloomed across Nan Qi’s face. It touched her deeply, inspiring visions of sketching the scene or committing it to memory forever.

But after a moment, she sensed something was off. Nan Qi’s responses were far too green, too unpracticed.

It seemed she’d teased her a bit too far.

Tang Lian immediately set the disc aside and pressed a hand to Nan Qi’s forehead.

Sure enough, it was scorching hot.

Like a raging fever.

An absurd suspicion bubbled up in Tang Lian’s mind. No way.

Had Nan Qi truly never encountered anything like this before?

She’d been so sure that once Nan Qi realized her attraction to women, she’d have sought out ways to explore it further. But apparently not.

Had she really muddled through her entire adolescence completely untouched by such things?

Tang Lian had noticed last time how thin-skinned Nan Qi was, how easily she blushed—and how stunningly beautiful she looked when she did. It mesmerized her, drawing her in for more glimpses. Today, she’d set a little trap to coax it out again.

Who knew she’d overplay her hand.

The outcome was Nan Qi, pure and adorable beyond belief.

Oh dear, she’d really struck gold with this treasure.