Crossing the Line – Chapter 19
by Little PandaReliable Sister
The elevator, always busy on ordinary days, was being remarkably “considerate” today.
Not a single person appeared during the ride up to the third floor.
Inside the narrow car, there were only Jiang Siyi and Lin Ji.
The elevator screen’s ad hadn’t been changed in ages, still tirelessly promoting where to go for a sweet Valentine’s Day date.
Neither of them spoke. With a gap of at least a person and a half between them, Lin Ji’s presence was still overwhelming.
The sandalwood scent on her, softened by the damp summer night air, crept bit by bit, silently, into Jiang Siyi’s senses.
When the elevator doors slid open, the slight crease between Lin Ji’s brows—walking behind Jiang Siyi—slowly eased.
Three floors by elevator was the maximum duration she could clearly tolerate.
They reached the apartment door.
The unmistakable sound of its owner’s footsteps set Xueqiu, cooped up most of the day, into a frenzy of excitement.
The person outside was actually still hesitating, not coming in right away to pay respects, so Xueqiu barked a few more times in urging.
A tiny Bichon Frise, somehow managing to project the air of an impenetrable fortress.
At the sound of the dog barking, a dark silhouette flashed through Lin Ji’s mind—the dark silhouette that had once loomed in her nightmares—and her footstep faltered.
Xueqiu’s series of actions appeared thoroughly unfriendly, reminding Jiang Siyi of an awkward episode from the past.
The first time Song Ti came to this rented apartment, Xueqiu had only recently been adopted.
The little dog, bullied and mistreated outside, had only just begun to trust and accept its new home after the new owner’s tireless patience and gentle reassurance.
It remained highly territorial toward anyone other than the person who fed and tenderly cared for it. A first-time intruder into its “domain” would trigger the highest alert immediately.
The Xueqiu that appeared before Song Ti back then had sparse fur and was skin and bones—looking like an ugly, scrappy little mutt, nothing like the adorable fluffball it was now.
Song Ti took one glance and looked away, discreetly pinching her nose.
“You didn’t tell me you had a dog.”
Jiang Siyi scooped Xueqiu up. “I didn’t know you were afraid of dogs.”
Song Ti stood at the doorway without entering.
“I’m not afraid of dogs. You know I’ve kept dogs before.”
She genuinely wasn’t afraid of dogs.
Jiang Siyi also remembered that as a child, Song Ti had a show Afghan Hound named Luna.
Song Ti loved Luna’s silky long coat—from behind, she looked entirely like a great beauty.
At the time, Jiang Siyi said nothing more. She carried Xueqiu and its favorite cushion into the bedroom and shut the door.
Song Ti never did step inside her apartment. She only stood at the doorway and talked for a while before leaving after a series of sneezes.
After that, Jiang Siyi never invited Song Ti over again.
No one else ever set foot in the space she shared with Xueqiu, either.
She didn’t want Xueqiu to be frightened, and she didn’t want to see that look of distaste on anyone’s face.
Right now, sensing Lin Ji’s hesitation, Jiang Siyi put on a smile and said:
“I forgot to mention—I have a dog. His name is Xueqiu. He’s really very well-behaved, he won’t bite. He’s just excited from not seeing me all day. Give me a moment.”
Though Xueqiu had been well cared for over the years and had grown increasingly laid-back—lazy, greedy, and silly—the apartment hadn’t had a visitor in so long that Jiang Siyi wasn’t sure how he’d react to a stranger.
She slipped inside quickly, scooped Xueqiu up, and carried him to the bedroom.
Worried he’d be unhappy, she gave him his favorite chew treat.
The silly dog was instantly bought off, flopping on the bedroom carpet to gnaw, eyes rolling back in bliss.
Jiang Siyi hurried back to the front door and opened it wide to invite Lin Ji in.
“The dog’s in the bedroom. He won’t come out.”
She explained carefully.
Lin Ji didn’t say much.
She didn’t want Jiang Siyi to know that it wasn’t a matter of disliking dogs—she had shadows she hadn’t yet overcome where dogs were concerned.
The two stood face to face in the narrow living room. Lin Ji was still wearing Jiang Siyi’s childish capybara slippers, a sight that gave Jiang Siyi an absurd sense of unreality.
The lamplight made the dishevelment of Lin Ji—who had taken on the wind and rain all night—even clearer.
The tips of her hair dripped water, droplet by droplet falling onto the floor—tick, tick—forming irregular yet connected shapes.
Jiang Siyi didn’t know where to put her hands.
She felt more constrained than the guest.
“You—sit here. I’ll get you a towel for your hair.”
Finally remembering she was the host, Jiang Siyi gestured at the sofa beside them.
Lin Ji glanced at it and quickly looked away, not actually sitting down. She just said:
“I’m soaked. I won’t sit. I’ll get your sofa wet.”
Jiang Siyi thought Lin Ji’s expression looked a bit odd.
Following her gaze, she discovered—with horror—draped over the sofa cushion the pink lace underwear she’d casually tossed there last night after changing.
Her most alluring lingerie was caught completely off guard in a head-on collision with Lin Ji.
A tempest raged inside her. Jiang Siyi wanted to throw herself on it and shield it with her body.
Lin Ji, as if she’d noticed nothing, turned her gaze toward the display cabinet beside the TV wall.
“May I look at your collection?”
Jiang Siyi, feeling as if she’d been granted a pardon, immediately agreed. “Of course! I’ll get you a towel. Um, you can sit on the stool.”
With that, Jiang Siyi snatched the underwear into her hands, wadding it airtight, and on the way to the bathroom buried it at the bottom of the laundry basket to “destroy the evidence.”
Adopting a once-bitten-twice-shy attitude, she verified there were no other embarrassing garments on the surface of the laundry basket before fanning her burning face and finally going to get a towel.
Lin Ji walked to the display cabinet and found it filled with various souvenirs Jiang Siyi had brought back from her travels.
There were also many photos in pretty frames.
Photos of her as a child sitting at a piano, smiling at the camera.
Of her and her elder sister sitting on a carnival ride, holding hands.
Of her with childish pigtails, clinging to her mother’s arm, her eyes crinkled into crescents.
Before middle school, she had many photos, most of them candid shots.
Her lovely face was always the center of the frame. The love of the person behind the camera poured completely into the composition of every single photo.
The photographer must have been her mother.
After that, a long stretch of years was blank.
Lin Ji knew that Jiang Siyi’s mother had passed away the year she started middle school.
Her happiness was gone.
The most recent photo was a selfie of her holding Xueqiu.
From carefree, uninhibited laughter to a faint smile with closed eyes—time had left its cruel, precise markings on Jiang Siyi.
Footsteps came from behind. Lin Ji tucked away her too-fervent gaze.
“This is a fresh towel I just washed. It hasn’t been used.”
“Thank you.”
Lin Ji pulled the ends of her hair forward from over her shoulder and wrapped them in the towel to absorb the water.
The thoroughly soaked patches on her shoulders were starkly visible.
Wet clothes clinging to the body must be very uncomfortable. Jiang Siyi said:
“Let me find you something to change into?”
“Sure, if it’s convenient.”
When Jiang Siyi opened the bedroom door, she was careful not to push it open all the way, guarding against Xueqiu bolting out.
It turned out Xueqiu was sprawled flat on the carpet, all four limbs splayed, leisurely gnawing his treat.
He didn’t even lift his head when Jiang Siyi came in.
Jiang Siyi was at a loss.
She opened the wardrobe. Jiang Siyi and her clothes stared at each other at a loss—then she realized a serious problem.
She was ten centimeters shorter than Lin Ji. Her clothes would obviously be a size too small—Lin Ji would find them too short.
And it wasn’t warm enough yet for a big T-shirt… not to mention tonight’s rain had dropped the temperature sharply. Short sleeves would guarantee a cold.
After rummaging through the entire wardrobe, she suddenly found, buried deep inside, a silk trench coat that didn’t belong to her.
This wasn’t her clothing. She rarely wore such delicate, high-maintenance garments.
It should fit Lin Ji perfectly.
Because it had originally belonged to Lin Ji.
This coat had sat in the back of her wardrobe, carefully stored in a dust cover, for three years.
Jiang Siyi thought for a moment before remembering why she had such a coat.
Three years ago, she and Song Ti had both graduated. The day they held their engagement ceremony, it had also rained heavily.
Song Ti said she didn’t want to go home and booked a private screening to take her to the movies.
It was a romance film—the perfectly fitting romantic plot must have been Song Ti’s careful selection.
Jiang Siyi watched it with her. When they came out, Song Ti said there was supposed to be fireworks and balloons, but the heavy rain had ruined everything, which was terribly disappointing.
Looking back now, that downpour—enough to extinguish all the passion in the city—was like some ominous omen.
All of Song Ti’s meticulously planned arrangements fell through, and to top it off, the car broke down on the outskirts.
At one in the morning, flooding from the heavy rain had submerged the roads. Even emergency vehicles couldn’t get through.
Song Ti grew so irritated that her words began carrying an edge.
The one who came in the end was Lin Ji.
She didn’t have an assistant back then. She drove herself, navigating treacherous mountain roads.
Jiang Siyi no longer remembered exactly how Lin Ji had appeared. She only remembered Song Ti happily rolling down the car window and shouting “Biaojie1.”
Lin Ji didn’t say a word the entire time. She drove the two of them in the back seat to a nearby service area.
The details of Lin Ji from that night were somewhat blurred in memory. Her image as the reliable elder sister had dissolved into an abstract impression.
But her slender, elegant hands, steadily gripping the steering wheel, surfaced clearly in Jiang Siyi’s mind as this memory unfolded.
The service area was remote and small. In the dead of night with heavy rain, only one small convenience store was still open.
Before Lin Ji arrived, Song Ti had stayed in the car the whole time. She was perfectly clean and fresh—only the slightest mud on her shoes.
It was Jiang Siyi who, holding an umbrella to help check the car’s condition, had her umbrella wrecked by the wind and got her entire back soaked.
When Jiang Siyi went into the convenience store to buy hot coffee for Song Ti, a trench coat settled over her shoulders.
“Summer clothes are very thin.”
Lin Ji, draping the coat over her, said only the first half of the sentence.
She didn’t point out that Jiang Siyi’s clothes had been soaked through by the rain.
Jiang Siyi realized quickly. Embarrassed, she pulled Lin Ji’s trench coat tightly around herself and after thanking her, said:
“I’ll wash it and return it to you.”
Lin Ji had indeed said, very coolly: “No need.”
Three words, and Jiang Siyi didn’t know how to continue.
Perhaps she had a cleanliness compulsion. It was just a small gesture with a coat, and she didn’t want it back.
Even so, Jiang Siyi later had it professionally dry-cleaned and meticulously cared for.
By the time she picked it up, she heard that Lin Ji had gone overseas.
Jiang Siyi asked Song Ti when Biaojie would be back.
“Not anytime soon, I think.”
Too many people were interested in Lin Ji’s whereabouts. Song Ti didn’t find Siyi’s casual question the least bit suspicious.
“Her company is going to list overseas, after all.”
If her career was overseas, then she probably wouldn’t run into her again anytime soon.
Jiang Siyi placed the trench coat in a vacuum dust cover and hung it in the farthest corner of her wardrobe, thinking that if they ever had the chance to meet again, she’d return it then.
Less than half a year after the engagement, Jiang Luo’s business went into a steady decline. Investment after investment failed, and the entire group teetered on the edge of collapse.
The Jiang family fell into decline, and even Jiang Siyi, who had long since moved out to live on her own, was affected.
Looking back now, that was probably when Song Ti began gradually growing cold toward Jiang Siyi.
They’d been engaged for three years, dragging it out without ever getting the marriage certificate.
Amid a busy and increasingly disheartening life, Jiang Siyi had long forgotten about the trench coat buried in the depths of her wardrobe.
Years later, the owner of that coat had shown up at her home.
And on another rainy night, no less.
She picked up the trench coat and carefully sniffed it. It had been well preserved, so there was no musty smell. But just to be safe, she followed a method she’d looked up online to remove dampness and odor.
Clutching the freshly freshened coat, she turned to head back to the living room—and found the bedroom door was open.
Xueqiu wasn’t on the carpet. His half-eaten chew treat still bore tooth marks.
The little rascal had apparently already learned to jump up and paw the door handle down.
Had ignoring her earlier all been misdirection?
The words “Xueqiu had become a spirit2” thundered through Jiang Siyi’s mind. Clutching the coat, she charged into the living room—and immediately spotted Lin Ji sitting on the stool with a furious little dog perched on her thigh.
Xueqiu had claimed Lin Ji’s lap the way he always claimed Jiang Siyi’s, and was now curiously surveying this unfamiliar guest.
Lin Ji’s eyes were fixed, unblinking, on the silent little dog. Her back was somewhat rigid.
One human and one dog were clearly locked in a standoff.
Xueqiu was the most likely aggressor.
Just as Jiang Siyi was about to open her mouth to scold Xueqiu, Lin Ji thought of the photos where Jiang Siyi cradled the little dog with a smile. Her hand, hovering uncertainly in midair, slowly descended and landed on Xueqiu’s fluffy head.
The plush fur compressed under her gentle press, flattening by a patch.
It felt wonderful.
Better than imagined—so light and soft, like pressing into cotton candy.
Xueqiu’s head was his favorite thing. He nudged Jiang Siyi’s palm with it every day. Being petted now, the gentle friction made his ears droop to either side, his tail sway lightly, and he slowly settled down, comfortable and content.
Jiang Siyi hadn’t expected Xueqiu to go soft as a pancake from a single touch.
That a first attempt at petting a dog could go this smoothly was beyond Lin Ji’s expectations as well.
Jiang Siyi set the clothes beside Lin Ji and seized the moment to scoop Xueqiu into her arms, thoroughly eliminating all possibility of the little demon causing trouble.
Xueqiu, luxuriating in the petting, suddenly found himself lifted and grumbled in protest.
He’d barely gotten two squeaks out before Jiang Siyi poked his head several times.
“Escaped while I wasn’t looking? No more treats for you.”
Jiang Siyi was fierce with Xueqiu, then turned to Lin Ji with an entirely different face.
“I thought you didn’t like dogs. I didn’t expect you to pet him.”
Lin Ji said: “I don’t dislike them. And you said he’s very well-behaved and won’t bite.”
So she believed what Jiang Siyi said in passing.
Though it wasn’t entirely something said in passing…
Jiang Siyi thought about it and set Xueqiu down.
Xueqiu trotted around Lin Ji’s feet and sniffed a few more times. Perhaps the head-patting had released a signal of goodwill, letting him know that the stranger before him had no ill intent. He made no move to attack—instead, he gave a well-behaved wag of his tail.
Jiang Siyi exhaled in relief.
The little rascal really knew how to scare people.
Lin Ji bent down and gave him one more pat. When she looked up, her eyes fell on the silk trench coat.
Jiang Siyi’s gaze followed Lin Ji’s to the coat.
“This is your coat.”
“Mm.” Lin Ji picked it up. “I remember.”
Lin Ji remembered, of course.
She remembered that night of citywide rain.
She remembered her mood plummeting to rock bottom, the sudden clap of thunder at the moment she made her decision.
That heavy rain three years ago had followed her, from J City to overseas.
On every sleepless night, she could seemingly hear the muffled drumming of rain, hear the lovers’ whispers behind her, see the windshield wipers tirelessly sweeping back and forth. Expressionless, she would feel the ache spreading through her chest.
Rain merging into streams beat down again and again. The ashen sky and earth blurred into one endless fog with no end in sight.
When they reached the service area, Song Ti and Jiang Siyi walked toward the convenience store hand in hand.
Their clasped hands made the engagement all the more concrete.
She had seen countless silhouettes that belonged to Jiang Siyi. That night’s silhouette was different.
A tangible sense of distance—the dead end of a road that would eventually come to an end.
Song Ti went to the restroom and asked Jiang Siyi to buy water.
The girl’s thin back, drenched by the rain, swayed constantly in the desolate field of view.
Sitting in the car, eyes fixed straight ahead, Lin Ji told herself: this was the last time.
The last time she would cross the line.
The trench coat slipped over the girl, shielding her from mocking and malicious gazes, protecting her dignity.
The author has something to say:
Lin Ji: Wife-luring Step 7 — there’s always something left in the wife’s hands.
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