As the lights came on, Shengjing’s nightlife was just beginning to revive.
Xiao Chen parked the car and went to the trunk to get things. “Teacher Shen, why didn’t Teacher Xia come to pick you up today?” Ever since Shen Jingsong moved into Silver Moon Bay, except for work, Xiao Chen rarely picked up Shen Jingsong privately anymore.
Shen Jingsong took several gift bags. “She’s very busy too.” She gently closed the car door. “I can take them up myself. You should rest early.”
Xiao Chen smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Teacher Shen.”
These days, she had accompanied Shen Jingsong to run schedules during work hours, flown to Birmingham with Shen Jingsong after work, and even secretly helped set up a scene at some place. She was indeed exhausted.
Fortunately, Teacher Shen was gentle and considerate, not only giving her a bonus but also granting her a few extra days off~
The first floor of the Lower Unit had a rabbit-shaped garden light on. The originally bare garden now had many new items, including a toy sandpit that kids would like, a seesaw, and swings.
Shen Jingsong looked at them curiously downstairs for a while, then walked towards the elevator hall.
Passing by the porch, she heard faint voices coming from the Lower Unit:
“One day, you’ll have to get married. I heard from colleagues that even the best of friends will become different from before once they each have their own families.”
“You already have a child. Do you feel different towards me compared to before?”
“Lu Guanlan, you’re different. But to you, I’m not as good as many others.”
~~~
Shen Jingsong swiped her elevator access card to go upstairs. She lowered her eyes to look at the gift bags filling her hands.
Yes, even if friends had the closest relationship, once they had families, they would become somewhat distant to varying degrees.
One person’s feelings toward another were no longer complete possession.
She furrowed her brows.
When Shen Jingsong came back to her senses, she had twisted the handles of the gift bags out of shape.
The house was pitch black.
There was no one upstairs or downstairs.
Shen Jingsong turned on a floor lamp, and the dim light spread a warm yellow circle.
At the corner of the stairs, the suitcase she had left was still there. The direction the tag faced hadn’t changed; Xia Zhuxi hadn’t touched it.
Shen Jingsong opened her contacts, scrolled past Xia Zhuxi’s number, hesitated for a moment, and didn’t call.
Xia Zhuxi kept a good schedule and wouldn’t stay out late at night. She had posted on Weibo that the Car Team was having a gathering.
She would probably come home late, so Shen Jingsong decided to wait a bit longer.
Everything in the house hadn’t changed.
The bag of plum konjac jelly that Shen Jingsong had opened a few days ago was still lying on the corner of the dining table, and the half bottle of soda water she had left was still on the island counter.
The fridge in the corner hummed softly.
Shen Jingsong saw her own shadow cast on the cold marble wall, standing solitary and alone.
She suddenly felt a profound sense of desolation. She wondered if after she left, Xia Zhuxi had also stood alone in the empty house like she was now—gazing at her solitary shadow on the wall and listening to the hum of the appliances…
But perhaps someone as brave and resolute as Xia Zhuxi wasn’t as sentimental as she was?
Shen Jingsong turned off the floor lamp and headed upstairs.
The motion-sensor lights at the edges of the steps lit up one by one. Originally, there had been no sensor lights. Once, Shen Jingsong had accidentally sprained her ankle at night, and after Xia Zhuxi found out, the stairs had new sensor lights installed the next day.
The second floor had a master bedroom, a suite, and two single rooms. Xia Zhuxi lived in the master bedroom, while Shen Jingsong lived in the suite next door.
In their previous life together, they never disturbed each other. Unless it was necessary or the other invited her, neither would enter the other’s room.
Shen Jingsong had hurried back from Britain, travel-worn and dusty. She wanted to take a bath during the time before Xia Zhuxi returned home, change into an elegant dress, and apply beautiful makeup.
Using the Peach Lip Gloss that Xia Zhuxi said looked best on her.
As soon as she entered the room and flipped the ceiling light switch, warm white soft light gradually descended.
In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, there was a layer of sheer curtains and a layer of blackout curtains, both closed tightly. They seemed endowed with the mission of “locking something away.”
Shen Jingsong walked in and placed herself among them, as if hiding in a warm, bright little secret room. An additional aromatherapy diffuser had appeared at the bedside, spreading the scent of cedar.
Shen Jingsong sniffed carefully. This fragrance had a subtle difference from the perfume she usually used, but it was already very similar.
She set the gift bags on the sofa, tidied up simply, sat in front of the vanity mirror to remove her jewelry, and let her gaze pass through the walk-in closet to check if the selected dress needed ironing again.
It was a gentle and elegant light pink little dress, its flared skirt resembling dangling lily of the valley flowers.
Suddenly, she noticed something extra on the bed.
At first glance, there was an extra quilt on the bed, which wasn’t unusual in itself.
But Shen Jingsong recognized that the extra quilt was the one Xia Zhuxi had slept under before. Meanwhile, her own quilt had been laid out in a long strip, connected to the pillow and placed on one side of the headboard.
After she left, there were clear signs of use here.
Shen Jingsong’s heartstrings stirred. Could it be that after she left, Xia Zhuxi had moved into her room?
With light footsteps, Shen Jingsong walked into the master bedroom. Sure enough, the bed was empty.
~~~
After she left, Xia Zhuxi had hugged her pillow and quilt into the room that still held traces of her scent. Xia Zhuxi rolled up the quilt she had slept in and held it close as she drifted off to sleep. Xia Zhuxi drew the curtains tight, trying to preserve her fragrance. At the bedside, Xia Zhuxi placed a scented diffuser with a fragrance similar to her perfume, pretending it was her scent…
And on the table sat the white hyacinths, blooming vibrantly.
Shen Jingsong picked up the vase brimming with hyacinths and murmured Xia Zhuxi’s name.
Xia Zhuxi had said she didn’t know much about flower meanings.
So Xia Zhuxi didn’t know the language of white hyacinths, nor had she chosen them deliberately for her.
On more than one night, Shen Jingsong had let down her guard, melting softly into Xia Zhuxi’s embrace. Their warm bodies pressed tightly together, their scents intertwining. Shen Jingsong felt herself drowning in a pool of sweetness, sinking deeper and deeper, with Xia Zhuxi as her only anchor.
Xia Zhuxi had hugged her back just as tenderly, saying she ached for her, promising to protect her.
~~~
Xia Zhuxi had said Shen Jingsong was her idol, the big sister who had given her affirmation and encouragement during her youth…
Her idol.
Her big sister.
That was as far as it went.
Shen Jingsong’s heart was like delicate glass—transparent and fragile. She reined in her wandering thoughts, refusing to indulge in excess imagination.
That was the bright, warm Xia Zhuxi, after all.
The Xia Zhuxi who relied on her like a sister, who adored her like an idol.
With these thoughts, Shen Jingsong let the hot water cascade over her body, washing away her restlessness and unease.
When she slipped into the elegant gown she had carefully prepared and donned the snowflake earrings, her gaze once again lingered involuntarily on the two quilts on the bed—huddled close yet “respectfully” apart.
Shen Jingsong hesitated once more.
Even if it was mere dependence on an older sister-figure, even if it was mere admiration for an idol—would someone go so far as to keep the other’s bedding right by their pillow?
And why was she so fixated on Xia Zhuxi’s actions, tangled in endless doubt and torment, without a trace of displeasure? Instead, deep in her heart, a shy anticipation stirred…
Shen Jingsong’s hands hung at her sides, clutching the hem of her skirt tightly.
Her heart was like the moon reflected in seaside waters—reaching for it only shattered the illusion.
Leaving only scattered shards of light dancing on the waves.
This time, Xia Zhuxi’s hands brought not the good fortune of offering her the moon.
But threads of emotion that disturbed her long-sealed heart of spring.
The wait dragged on endlessly. Shen Jingsong opened a biography by a renowned author, hoping to distract herself from her spiraling thoughts.
Minutes and seconds ticked by. In the night sky, the moon emerged and then vanished behind the clouds.
As the hour approached midnight, Shen Jingsong lost all interest in reading and closed the thick hardcover.
The bone china teapot on the round table had been refilled with hot water twice, and the rim of her teacup bore a peach-colored lipstick mark.
The water in the cup had gone cold again.
Shen Jingsong pulled out her phone and dialed Xia Zhuxi’s number. Her heart strung tight, brows slightly furrowed, she had meant to wait quietly for her return…
The call rang for a long time.
Just as Shen Jingsong thought it would go to voicemail, it connected.
“Xiao Xi.”
Muffled, chaotic background noise filtered through.
Shen Jingsong vaguely made out the clink of glasses and the cheerful jingle of bells from someone singing.
A long silence followed—no voice on the other end.
Shen Jingsong sat beneath the air conditioner vent, the cold air blasting straight at her.
A heaviness settled in her chest, and her voice softened further. “Xiao Xi, where are you?”
Another burst of muffled revelry, then a few clatters as if the phone was being shifted, followed by the rustle of fabric.
Finally, a hint of human presence came through the receiver.
Just breath.
A heavy, low sigh.
Shen Jingsong’s ear felt scalded by boiling steam. Her glossy lips trembled. “This is Shen Jingsong.”
“Are you listening, Xia Zhuxi?”
Beep.
The call ended.
A harsh busy tone pierced the still, cold air, erratic and shrill.
Shen Jingsong’s fingertips quivered as she gripped her phone and dialed again.
“The number you have dialed is powered off.”
“Sorry, the number you have reached…”
Shen Jingsong stared blankly at her reflection on the darkened screen—elegantly made up.
Was Xiao Xi angry with her?
Angry that she had forgotten her birthday?
So she was ignoring her?
Shen Jingsong felt deep regret. Why had she insisted on this “surprise”?
Why hadn’t she just stayed by Xia Zhuxi’s side, handed her the gift directly, cut the cake together, sung her a birthday song, and watched her blow out the candles?
Or why hadn’t she told Xia Zhuxi ahead of time that she was coming back today, so Xia Zhuxi would have stayed home?
Tears welled up in Shen Jingsong’s eyes.
Why didn’t Xia Zhuxi say where she was? Why did she hang up on her call?
~~~
The night was silent and still.
Shen Jingsong sat in place without moving, her myriad thoughts drifting away with the passage of time as her expression returned to its usual calm.
One minute before midnight, the sound of the door lock turning echoed from downstairs. The front door opened with a click, then slammed shut with a bang.
The footsteps were chaotic—not just one person, but accompanied by clumsy shoves.
A hoarse voice mumbled indistinctly, “Wh-where… where is it?”
Another woman’s voice chuckled lowly in response. “What, do you think I’m going to eat you?”
~~~
No lights were on downstairs; it was pitch black.
Shen Jingsong felt chilled to the bone, yet she was astonishingly calm. Perhaps the air conditioning had been blowing too long, turning her body ice-cold, or maybe the long wait had extinguished the flame of hope in her heart.
She moved silently toward the darkness of the staircase, blending into the night.
The faint light from outside the window illuminated the living room. Xia Zhuxi was dead drunk, lying on the sofa with her eyes closed, one hand dangling to the floor. The drunken flush spread from her cheeks to her neck, disappearing into her wrinkled shirt.
She tilted her face upward uncomfortably, parting her lips to draw in deep breaths and exhaling hot pants.
“Xia.” A few strands of golden curls dangled down, lightly brushing against Xia Zhuxi’s feverish cheek.
Xia Zhuxi turned her head into the pillow, frowning as she dodged the strange sensation on her face. “More… drink…”
“Still drinking?” Kristin grinned widely, lying down sideways beside her and propping her cheek to gaze at her face. “Were you happy tonight? Xia, you look so good when you smile.”
The pillow now covered Xia Zhuxi’s face, her chest rising and falling as her breathing gradually evened out.
Silence enveloped the room, with the curtains half-drawn over the window.
Kristin’s cheeks were flushed, her gaze drifting to the edge below Xia Zhuxi’s collarbone. The white collar was folded open, the two panels of fabric cinched together in front into a narrow line that framed her reddened skin. One button on the swell was coming loose, hanging precariously.
A heated restlessness crept into Kristin’s laughing eyes. She leaned over Xia Zhuxi, her voice a hushed murmur. “Don’t think about the unhappy stuff. Stay away from the people who hurt you. We can just be happy together—doesn’t that feel great?” She pulled her phone from her T-shirt pocket and set it on the coffee table.
The phone lay face down, adorned with a squirrel ornament. The white case was signed in pink glitter pen:
Xiao Xi is awesome—xsx*
The shadows of the trees outside the window swayed in the wind, casting dim, indistinct patterns onto the sofa.
The night light filtered in once more. Kristin’s hand pressed against Xia Zhuxi’s collar, her fingertip nudging that fragile button back into the gap.
“Take your hand away.” A cold warning came from upstairs.
