Xia Zhuxi was very glad that Shen Jingsong was an actress.
Even after they parted ways at fourteen and never saw each other again, she could still catch glimpses of her in the media.
From the moment Shen Jingsong opened her social media accounts, Xia Zhuxi had followed her on every platform without missing a single one.
Xia Zhuxi knew that Shen Jingsong had done group extra roles in advertisements, served as an usher at a furniture store’s grand opening, sat in the front row as planted audience on variety shows, and run around as background extras in countless period dramas.
In her early days, Shen Jingsong’s accounts had been very pure and unpolished, not yet managed by any agency. Most of the content was just slices of everyday life.
Xia Zhuxi still remembered Shen Jingsong’s first major supporting role. She had posted a long, heartfelt reflection brimming with uncontainable joy.
Xia Zhuxi had recommended that drama to her entire class, urging everyone to give it five stars on Douban.
The whole class knew she was a fan.
That post from Shen Jingsong had long since been deleted by her agency, but those Douban ratings were still floating around online.
Shen Jingsong walked along while searching for the ID Xia Zhuxi had mentioned, swiping quickly through years of reviews.
She held out her phone. “This one?”
Xia Zhuxi glanced at the ID. “Yeah. Why are you always so spot-on?” She knew the ID herself, but picking it out from a sea of comments wasn’t easy. Shen Jingsong had found it in seconds.
Shen Jingsong smiled. “Your personal style stands out too much.”
Did it?
Xia Zhuxi’s Douban account had been registered with a student phone number, which got canceled after graduation. She’d even forgotten what she’d posted there.
Hearing that, she leaned in to check the old comments.
—Super good!
Even Xia Zhuxi burst out laughing.
Her style really was distinctive.
They passed through a grove of slender-leaved banyans, where the ground tiles embedded in the mud were uneven and bumpy. Shen Jingsong walked for a bit before stopping several times to nudge her heel back into place with her thumb.
“What’s wrong?” Xia Zhuxi stopped and steadied her.
Shen Jingsong lifted one foot to inspect her ankle. Under the dim streetlight, the pale skin was circled with red.
Her heel in particular had a small cut.
“It’s nothing,” Shen Jingsong said as she tore off a piece of cosmetic cotton to pad it. “New shoes are a little stiff.”
Xia Zhuxi glanced around, then shrugged off her jacket and spread it over a stone bench. She helped Shen Jingsong sit. “Sister Jingsong, rest here for a bit. I’ll run to the convenience store over there and grab something. Be right back.”
Shen Jingsong was only halfway down. “Your jacket—”
“It’s fine,” Xia Zhuxi said. “Sit. Your skirt’s white.” An outdoor stone bench like that had no telling how much dust on it—white clothes stained so easily. And it was chilly at night; sitting directly would be uncomfortable.
Two or three minutes later, Xia Zhuxi was back.
She carried a small plastic bag and knelt down. Shen Jingsong’s expression turned surprised. “Xiao Xi?”
Xia Zhuxi took hold of one of her shoes. “Sister Jingsong, lift your foot.” She looked up. “Mind if I touch it?”
Shen Jingsong blinked her big, sparkling eyes. “Why would I mind? You’re my wife.”
Xia Zhuxi’s smile warmed as she rubbed her hands together for heat. She cradled Shen Jingsong’s bare foot in her lap, peeled open a band-aid, and covered the little wound on her heel.
Then she pulled a pair of new cotton slippers from the bag—the fluffy kind that students loved these days, resembling two Angora rabbits from a distance—and slipped them onto Shen Jingsong’s feet.
Shen Jingsong’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. “So cute.” She reached down to pet the fuzzy ears.
Xia Zhuxi said, “I squeezed every pair of cotton slippers in the store. This one’s the softest.”
Shen Jingsong watched her intently. “Mm-hmm.”
She applied a band-aid to the other foot as well. Xia Zhuxi held Shen Jingsong’s bare foot and glanced around.
Shen Jingsong followed her gaze. “What are you looking at?” There was nothing nearby—just still, silent tree shadows.
Xia Zhuxi leaned down and brushed her lips against Shen Jingsong’s calf.
Shen Jingsong looked down abruptly. Xia Zhuxi slipped the fluffy shoe on, bagged the high heels, and stood with the bag in hand. She extended her other hand. “Take a walk and see.”
A faint blush colored Shen Jingsong’s cheeks as she placed her hand in Xia Zhuxi’s. She hugged the jacket close, stood, brushed it off, and draped it over Xia Zhuxi’s shoulders.
“Sister Jingsong, feeling better?”
“Much better. Thanks, Xiao Xi.”
“No need to thank me. I’m your wife.”
Shen Jingsong had an early call time the next morning, so Xia Zhuxi drove her straight to the set.
The underground parking garage was packed—lots of cars from people attending the school anniversary.
Xia Zhuxi loosely circled Shen Jingsong’s waist and pressed the key fob. A head poked out from behind a nearby white car.
“Back already?” Jian Ge had just looked up when she saw Shen Jingsong plucking a stray blade of grass from Xia Zhuxi’s chest. Shen Jingsong murmured that it must have stuck when she was padding the bench earlier—the light outside had been too dim to notice till now. Xia Zhuxi said it was no big deal and, holding her hand, asked if she was cold.
Jian Ge: “……” Padding with clothes? Padding what? And why?
Xia Zhuxi said to Jian Ge, “You’re down here so early—why didn’t you call me? Hop in the car.”
Jian Ge’s gaze flicked back and forth between her and Shen Jingsong, but she didn’t budge. “I decided at the last minute to ride with someone else.”
Xia Zhuxi had no objections. “Fine by me. There are plenty of old classmates around today. We won’t cramp your style while you chase your dream guy.” She opened the car door and helped Shen Jingsong settle into the passenger seat.
Jian Ge crossed her arms with a huff. “It’s not that I want to play third wheel in a luxury ride, okay?”
Once they were in the car, she called out as a token gesture. “Xia Xia, there’s a class reunion later. If you’re not going, I’ll turn it down for you.”
Xia Zhuxi turned. “A class reunion too?” She’d returned on the principal’s invitation and hadn’t caught up with any classmates yet.
Shen Jingsong spoke softly. “You should go. I’ll have Xiao Chen pick me up. She’s just shopping downtown.”
But Xia Zhuxi wouldn’t hear of it. “No way! I’ve only got three days off!” She was wholly devoted to her wife, not willing to spare even an hour.
Jian Ge waved her off frantically. “Bye, bye, bye!”
Whether she’d spot her crush or not, Jian Ge knew one more glance at the two of them would leave her glowing like a fully charged battery.
~~~
The door to the private lounge in the clear bar swung open, and old classmates swarmed Jian Ge with enthusiasm the moment she stepped inside.
Some faces were still familiar; others, total strangers.
The class president dragged her to a seat, and they exchanged the usual small talk.
When the president asked her to invite Xia Zhuxi, Jian Ge apologized—that one couldn’t make it—and promised to send a red envelope as a token of regret.
The news that Xia Zhuxi wasn’t coming drew a chorus of disappointed boos.
It was hardly a surprise, though. Different circles, different strata. Once graduation hit, reconnecting grew impossible.
A woman chimed in with a tease. “Totally normal. Why would ‘Xia God’ show up to us mortals’ little get-together?”
A few others piled on. “Hahaha! Spot on!”
“It’s us mortals who don’t deserve it.”
Jian Ge cut them off loudly. “Cut the crap! Xia Zhuxi’s genuinely swamped. She’s got the Mexico City competition next week.”
At a nearby table, three close friends were locked in a game of Fight the Landlord.
The guy in glasses and a tie chuckled. “At least Xia Zhuxi made it for the celebration. That senior from Jinliang City couldn’t even be bothered with the school anniversary.”
Jian Ge’s hand paused mid-pour as she poured her drink, brushing her hair back to eavesdrop.
Someone jumped in right away. “Jinliang? Who’s that?”
Tie Guy replied, “Old broadcasting department stunner. Put on this huge hanfu exhibit at school—total sensation. You seriously never heard? She’s killing it these days.”
Another voice piped up. “I’ve got it—the one they called ‘Vega Star’?”
The gossip circle swelled. “Vega Star! First president of the Hanfu Society. Headed to N University in Jinliang for fashion design after graduation. My cousin goes there.”
“Hey, speaking of her! She was two years ahead of us, right? Gather ’round for some vintage dirt—” The woman with the scorpion-tail braid cut herself short, shooting a glance at Jian Ge before beckoning her neighbor closer and dropping her voice. “The year Vega Star graduated…”
Tie Guy’s eyes widened. “That juicy? You’re making it up, right?”
Scorpion Braid deadpanned. “Saw it with my own two eyes.”
Tie Guy smirked. “No wonder she skips these things.”
Jian Ge’s brows knitted tight without her even noticing.
She murmured a goodbye to the class president, slung her bag over her shoulder, and slipped out.
Hailing a taxi, she got a caring text from Xia Zhuxi.
Xia Zhuxi: Spotted your dream guy yet?
Jian Ge: Nope.
Xia Zhuxi: How’s the reunion going?
Jian Ge: Pure gossip, zero camaraderie. Smart of you to bail.
Jian Ge slid into the cab, gave the driver the address, and stared at her phone, hesitating. The self-important chatter from the gathering replayed in her mind. With a heavy sigh, she typed a few words into the chat box—then deleted them all.
Finally, she tucked the phone into her bag.
~~~
Xia Zhuxi noticed Jian Ge typing, so she waited a moment. But no reply came.
Probably off drinking and belting out karaoke by now.
She was lounging in the crew’s break room.
With limited space, they’d dressed it up like a miniature set: the bridal chamber from a mountain bandit wedding.
Shen Jingsong had just finished her face mask and was prepping for hair and makeup.
She nestled up beside Xia Zhuxi. “Jian Ge?”
Xia Zhuxi nodded. “Yeah. Thought she’d hit me back, but nothing. She’s probably lost in the fun.”
Shen Jingsong sounded concerned. “Class reunion any good?”
Xia Zhuxi shrugged. “No clue. Haven’t been to one since graduation.” For starters, she wasn’t even in the same city, and competitions kept her booked solid. Mostly, she just wasn’t into it.
She turned the question around. “What about you, Sister Jingsong? You go to yours?”
Shen Jingsong thought back. “I did, fresh out of school. Then acting gigs piled up, and I stopped.”
Life pulled everyone in different directions, after all—hustling just to get by. Who had time for reunions?
Except for show-offs like Pei Ziying, who lived for flaunting at every gathering…
Thank goodness Shen Jingsong and Pei Ziying had been in different classes, same school.
“Want a Little Sweet Jujube?” Shen Jingsong offered.
“Where’d these Little Sweet Jujubes come from?” Xia Zhuxi thought the name for the fruit was utterly adorable.
“Here, the assistant director gave these to me just now. Take a look.” With that, Shen Jingsong pushed herself up and rolled over to rummage in the canvas bag by Xia Zhuxi’s ear.
She hovered over Xia Zhuxi on her elbows, her collar hanging loose to reveal soft, snow-white skin. A delicate hollow at her collarbone cradled a tiny mole.
The mole danced playfully with its owner’s movements.
Naughty little thing.
Xia Zhuxi tilted her head and pecked at the mole. She parted her lips to capture Shen Jingsong’s shoulder, her tongue delving into the hollow, the rough pad sliding heavily across it before she sucked hard.
“Ahh…” A soft moan escaped Shen Jingsong’s throat. Whether her hand slipped or not, she dropped the two Little Sweet Jujubes onto Xia Zhuxi’s body.
Xia Zhuxi laughed and pulled her close. Shen Jingsong gave a light, half-hearted push, only for Xia Zhuxi to catch her hand and press a kiss to it.
Even her reproachful glare melted into endless tenderness in those soft, alluring eyes. She fed a Little Sweet Jujube to Xia Zhuxi and asked, “Who taught you to be so naughty?”
Naughty?
Did she mean the kiss to Shen Jingsong’s mole?
Xia Zhuxi curved her lips into a smile. “This person.”
She leaned over to the makeup case, pulled out a tube of lipstick, uncapped it, and drew a heart on her own neck. Then she undid her collar a bit more, letting her pale skin set off the vivid red heart even brighter.
It was a scene from memory.
Their first meeting—Shen Jingsong in a white slip dress, hips slightly cocked as she drew a heart in the mirror.
Xia Zhuxi had burst into that room bathed in glorious sunlight. Shen Jingsong had turned abruptly, smiling at her so gently, a peach-colored heart beside a dainty mole on her neck.
~~~
Xia Zhuxi gazed at Shen Jingsong, stroking her collarbone. “That’s when I first noticed this mole. It’s so beautiful.”
A smile bloomed on Shen Jingsong’s puzzled face—she seemed to remember now. Xia Zhuxi had only been fourteen at the time.
Shen Jingsong arched a brow. “Thinking such things at such a young age?”
Xia Zhuxi wrapped her in an embrace and kissed her earlobe. “Am I still young now?”
