Chapter 9

Chen Xian had had a relationship that wasn't perfect. Her boyfriend had been passive—in life and in love. Before they'd made it official, it was like two tai chi masters sparring. Every day was testing, every day was reading between the lines, until Chen Xian couldn't take it anymore and punched through that layer of paper.
From then on, Chen Xian had realized that with the opposite sex, directness meant efficiency. Mind-reading games belonged in romantic scripts and stories. Only when the prince truly kissed the princess awake would flowers bloom, would they live happily ever after.
By the end of the kiss, her face was flushed. She was almost hanging off 孟頔, her back to the screen. There was no movie in her eyes anymore; she was already in the movie.
They were like vines growing together. Breathing intertwined.
Chen Xian smiled.
She was belatedly shy: "When did I end up on your lap?"
"Don't know." 孟頔's lashes lowered. His hand on her waist relaxed a little but didn't let go.
Chen Xian: "Did you move me?"
The word "move" made 孟頔 smile: "Probably."
Chen Xian: "You're that strong?"
孟頔 frowned slightly: "Do I look weak?"
Chen Xian shook her head: "Not really."
He was so big, almost wrapping her in his arms. But he was also like a small white flower, petals soft, needing care.
Chen Xian: "Was that your first time kissing a girl too?"
Even though she'd already confirmed it, she couldn't help asking.
孟頔: "Yeah."
She was thrilled, overjoyed. Mutual honesty always moved the soul more than one-sided guessing.
Chen Xian curled her fist like a microphone and held it to his lips: "First kiss—how did it feel?"
孟頔 looked at her without blinking, no hesitation: "I wanted to keep kissing. I wanted to keep kissing you."
Chen Xian laughed.
This time she leaned in and closed her eyes. Wind met wind; water flowed into water. Natural, swept up, sinking, giving in. When their breathing grew faster and louder, the background had the movie's hero playing and singing:
"I fell in love just once
我只爱过一次
and then it had to be with you."
还是倾心于你
…
—
By the time she made it back to her rental, dazed, it was two in the morning. Chen Xian had no clear memory of the night. The details were lost in a dreamlike filter—unreal, and moving.
After her shower, she was a little clearer. She opened WeChat. Empty. 孟頔 hadn't messaged her.
Of course, she hadn't messaged him either.
It had all been sudden. She needed to process it alone. No need for the two of them to analyze it, because there was no conclusion to prove—or the conclusion wouldn't be what they wanted. She and 孟頔 were different. She was a social animal; 孟頔 lived in seclusion. She was one of the migratory birds heading south, only able to rest on his island for a moment, to feel the beautiful flowers and trees. That was her and 孟頔.
With that thought, Chen Xian slept until the next afternoon. Her rhythm was thrown off.
After getting up, she took a cab straight to Tanhualin. Wandering through the pretty little shops, she was distracted, especially since 孟頔 had asked that morning where she was going today. She hadn't replied.
The heat was burning. She bought a drink and sat in a shop to cool off, then finally wrote back: I'm already at Tanhualin.
But he didn't ask why she hadn't brought him or anything like that. He just said: Want me to come?
Chen Xian: Do you want to?
He was clear: I want to.
Chen Xian sent him the location: Then come.
Fifteen minutes later, 孟頔 walked into the shop. He found Chen Xian at once; she didn't even need to wave. When he sat down, she pushed the drink she'd just ordered toward him: "Here. Yours."
孟頔 thanked her and took a big sip.
"It's so hot outside." Chen Xian pulled out a tissue for him.
He wiped his forehead. His fringe was a little damp, like a puppy caught in the rain.
Chen Xian started laughing.
孟頔 noticed and smiled too: "What are you laughing at?"
Chen Xian: "That you do whatever I give you."
孟頔: "What you give me isn't wrong."
Chen Xian's heart beat faster. She pinched the straw and took a sip: "How do you know?"
孟頔 looked at her: "Is it wrong?"
Chen Xian avoided his bright, naked gaze: "What I'm giving you now isn't wrong."
孟頔 pressed: "What about before?"
His face and tone turned serious.
So he did have a temper. She'd thought he didn't… Right, how could anyone not have a temper? She'd left him today because she couldn't figure things out, needed to cool off.
Her heart trembled. Chen Xian took a deep breath: "Before when? The past few days?"
Or last night.
She was dodging it, quietly.
孟頔 didn't speak. His sensitivity made him hold back.
Chen Xian suddenly covered her face with both hands: "I'm sorry. I didn't reply today, and I snuck out on my own."
She wasn't avoidant attachment, just—
She went on: "I thought a lot last night. You know I'll go back. We'll both go back." Not just home—back to their own lives.
"Today's day four, but it's also the third to last day," Chen Xian leaned back in her chair: "I'm leaving the day after tomorrow."
She looked at 孟頔: "What about you? When are you leaving?"
孟頔: "I booked the rental for two weeks."
She seemed to find an opening: "See. You're leaving too, just a week later."
孟頔 asked: "Where are you from?"
Chen Xian: "I'm staying in Hangzhou. You?"
孟頔: "Beijing."
Brief closeness, then quick separation. Like fate.
Chen Xian: "Is your family there?"
孟頔: "Yeah."
He added: "But I'm free—with my time and myself."
Chen Xian heard what he meant: "I'm not. This break was hard to get. The day after I go back, I start closed training, then I start work. It'll be really busy."
"You last night…" she said hesitantly: "Weren't you struggling with this too?" An outcome. One everyone had to face.
"I don't regret what happened." She looked down: "Meeting you was beautiful."
孟頔 still watched her. His face showed nothing, but the hurt in his eyes was about to spill over.
Finally he said: "Me too."
"But," 孟頔's voice was unusually calm: "Can we finish the story properly? Our 'seven-day story'—on day four, you left me behind."
His words made Chen Xian frown. They sounded especially harsh and cruel.
Like acceptance, like being forced, Chen Xian nodded: "Okay. You're right. Today I planned to visit Tanhualin and go to Wansongyuan for good food. Do you want to come?"
孟頔 answered quickly: "Yes."
They finished their drinks in silence, then walked out together.
The sun had set. The afterglow spread between the buildings, like butter melting in chocolate toast.
What did kissing mean? Chen Xian had thought about it a lot last night. Holding hands, hugging, kissing—the romance trilogy. Who said they had to exist for romance? When she and 孟頔 walked through the crowded streets without touching, when she couldn't rightfully ask 孟頔 to hold her hand so they wouldn't lose each other, she suddenly realized: kissing only meant kissing. I wanted to kiss him; he wanted to kiss me. Hugging only meant hugging—a momentary need.
Chen Xian turned her face away in the dimming light and quietly wiped the wetness from the corner of her eye.
Because she knew: when she ached, when she wanted to cry, that was also just a momentary need.