Chapter 10

Chapter 10

A boiling heart surged up just beneath my throat. Suddenly, my legs seemed to grow a will of their own, carrying me in a mad dash toward the corridor.

It was rush hour, and all three elevators were packed. I waited a full ten minutes before one finally came down.

Zhao Muzi was standing near the lobby gates, still in that familiar oversized pair of shorts and old-man undershirt, flip-flops on his feet, both hands tucked into his pockets. His quiet foxlike eyes were fixed on the elevator doors.

Standing there, he looked like a soft, glowing body of light.

Every man, woman, child, girl, and guy who passed by turned back to look at him without exception.

You can imagine how awkward I felt as I forced myself to walk over.

He remained silent, but while we waited for the elevator, I noticed his flip-flops were new. The creases in his undershirt and shorts were crisp and straight too, probably clothes he had just taken out of the packaging.

…I could tell. He had already tried his best.

After a while, the elevator arrived. It was even empty.

We stepped inside one after the other. The aluminum doors slid shut, and his faint foxlike eyes looked at me in silence, saying more than a thousand words ever could.

I didn’t know who moved first, but in the next second, we were locked tightly in each other’s arms.

A little lost, a little intoxicated, like drunkards drowning in the depths of wine, we even asked each other absurd questions.

“Your mouth tastes so sweet.”

“So does yours.”

His voice was hoarse and full of emotion.

By then, we were already as close as two people could be, yet he still kept holding me, kept kissing me, and only slowly came back to himself when a ding sounded by our ears.

The elevator doors opened. Two elementary school kids, not even as tall as my shoulders, stood outside and glanced in. Then they curled their lips and walked away.

“Middle-aged people these days are so passionate.”

“Tell me about it.”

At some point, rain had begun falling outside the windows.

Fine, pattering droplets struck the skyscrapers, and the air spread with the damp, ambiguous aftertaste of it all. It was a night made for kissing.

To cover any sounds that might disturb the neighbors, I turned on the TV the moment we got inside. The broadcast about the typhoon moving away filled the room, but the air still carried the sense of a storm about to break.

Fortunately, tonight, Zhao Muzi was my hiding place.

“Why did you sneak away that day? Did you regret it?”

“And what if I did?”

Those foxlike eyes glittered like stars in the dark, his gaze roaming over me. “I thought you hated me.”

“I do, a little.”

Zhao Muzi seemed somewhat helpless as he gently bit my lower lip.

It was only a simple kiss, yet it felt like drinking an exceptionally mellow, fragrant liquor. After just a few sips, it had made us both thoroughly drunk…

The next day.

Before I even opened my eyes, the person beside me had already sat up and leaned close to speak softly by my ear.

“It’s morning. I have to go.”

“Bye.”

He didn’t leave. Instead, he held my hand against his chest, rubbing my fingers in his dry, scorching palm. They looked like pale, tender shoots pushing their heads out of the soil, fragile and delicate in a strangely lovely way.

Awakened by his fussing, I had no choice but to get up.

By then, the room was filled with morning light. I stood by the entryway, yawning endlessly, politely dealing with his lingering reluctance to leave.

Until he looked behind me, and the smile on his face vanished in an instant.

I followed his gaze. At some point, the cloth covering the feature wall had slipped down, revealing an enormous floor-to-ceiling-wedding photo.