The Alley Was Always This Long – Chapter 42
by Little PandaInvitation
Qiao Zhiji walks toward Cheng Xiang.
[Perhaps the reason a promise is a promise
is because it couldn’t be fulfilled at the time.
To fulfill it later is meaningless.]
Qiao Zhiji organized the client introduction and preferences into a PDF and sent it to Tao Tianran, who then forwarded it to Cheng Xiang.
Qiao Zhiji’s message was: “This is my partner. She and her wife are vacationing in Seychelles for the Spring Festival, and if you’re free, she’d like to invite you to join them.”
She added an explanation: “She has a villa in Seychelles.”
Fine, fine, these wicked rich people.
Tao Tianran discussed it with Cheng Xiang. “If you need to spend the Spring Festival with your family, I can make the trip first.”
“You’re not going back to Gangdao for the New Year?”
“No.”
Cheng Xiang thought for a moment. “I’ll go with you.”
Staying with the Yu family would be its own form of torture. Now that she had a lead on Qiao Zhiji, Cheng Xiang figured she would find her own place and move out after the New Year.
Fortunately, Seychelles offered visa-free entry, making travel convenient. The client was sincere, even buying them first-class tickets.
On the plane, once Cheng Xiang got over her fear of takeoff, she opened a game of Gomoku and started snickering to herself as she played.
Tao Tianran was sitting right next to her. If she didn’t do something, her nerves would get the best of her.
There was a rustle from Tao Tianran’s direction. Cheng Xiang turned her head to see that Tao Tianran had put on a black silk sleep mask.
The inky black suited her perfectly, like a single, hesitant stroke of a brush on frost-white paper. Her equally dark hair spilled down, stark as white blossoms on dark water.
It wasn’t until a flight attendant came by to ask about meal service that Cheng Xiang spoke.
“Teacher Tao,” she called softly.
Tao Tianran was still wearing the sleep mask, and Cheng Xiang couldn’t tell if she was sound asleep.
Cheng Xiang thought for a moment. We can’t let a first-class ticket go to waste. She told the flight attendant, “Two steaks for me, please.”
A full stomach really does make one drowsy. When Cheng Xiang woke up, she was settled back in her first-class seat. She quietly turned her head to look at Tao Tianran.
Tao Tianran was already awake.
A slender champagne flute sat before her as she gazed out the porthole window.
Below them were the lights of a thousand homes. Cheng Xiang pressed her lips together. She couldn’t make out the expression on Tao Tianran’s face.
But Tao Tianran’s silhouette reminded her of that night of wind and rain on Ghost Laugh Mountain—the way she had turned her back to lie down after Cheng Xiang had denied being Cheng Xiang.
After they landed, Tao Tianran led Cheng Xiang toward the parking lot.
Even dragging a suitcase, a person with that big-shot aura walked with a commanding presence. Cheng Xiang mused that at her current height, her legs weren’t much shorter than Tao Tianran’s. So why did she feel like she had to jog to keep up?
“Teacher Tao.”
“Yes.”
“Someone’s coming to pick us up, right?”
“No,” Tao Tianran said. “I rented a car. It’ll be more convenient for getting around.”
Cheng Xiang hadn’t expected Tao Tianran to rent a convertible.
“I never would’ve guessed Teacher Tao was such a closet show-off…”
Tao Tianran’s gaze flicked toward her.
“Ahem.” Cheng Xiang corrected herself. “…Such a high-profile person.”
After tossing her suitcase into the back seat, Cheng Xiang took one look inside and was even more dumbfounded. “Seychelles uses right-hand drive cars?”
Tao Tianran said nothing, only gesturing for Cheng Xiang to get in.
Cheng Xiang gingerly settled into the passenger seat.
Tao Tianran rested one hand on the steering wheel. Her crisp, white shirt, usually so severe, was softened only by a sea breeze like this one, its collar fluttering to reveal the fair, straight line of her collarbone.
The salty scent of the sea drifted toward them.
It was the height of summer in Seychelles. Cheng Xiang pulled a pair of sunglasses from her bag and asked Tao Tianran, “Teacher Tao, aren’t you going to wear sunglasses?”
Tao Tianran shook her head, squinting slightly in the blazing sun.
She rarely squinted, and it lent her cool features a rare touch of allure.
Cheng Xiang stared at her, dazed.
A sudden thought struck her: It would be so good if I were still alive. If this were a trip abroad, just for her and Tao Tianran.
Seeing that the coastal highway was empty, she stretched her left arm out of the car.
The sea breeze threaded through her slightly parted fingers. She closed her eyes.
The feeling of the wind gently caressing the fine hairs on her forearm—that was the feeling of being alive.
Tao Tianran glanced over at Cheng Xiang.
For some reason, she felt that if she and Xiao Xiang had come to Seychelles together, Xiao Xiang would have done just that in a convertible.
Just like every time before, extending her downy antennae out into the world.
“Pull it back in,” Tao Tianran said suddenly, her voice cold and hard.
Cheng Xiang was taken aback by her tone. “Hm?”
“I said, pull your hand back in.”
I will never again think that anyone is like Cheng Xiang, Tao Tianran thought, not when no one else could ever be her.
Cheng Xiang didn’t know where the temper came from. “No.”
“What?”
“I said, no.”
She had never said “no” to Tao Tianran before.
But inexplicably, it was as if she knew exactly what Tao Tianran was thinking in that moment.
Tao Tianran was thinking of Cheng Xiang.
And Cheng Xiang realized she was well and truly angry.
Why are you thinking of Cheng Xiang now? I was already planning to let you go and let myself go. Tao Tianran wasn’t at fault for anything. She just hadn’t loved me enough.
Tao Tianran suddenly spun the steering wheel, and the convertible veered toward the sandy shoulder. Startled, Cheng Xiang snatched her hand back and gripped the car door.
Tao Tianran slammed on the brakes. Her chest rose and fell twice before she said in a low voice, “Sorry.”
She pushed open the door and walked toward the sea without a backward glance.
Cheng Xiang was left alone in the car, an unfounded irritation rising within her.
She leaned up, bracing herself against the windshield, and shouted toward the shore, “Teacher Tao!”
Tao Tianran stood far away by the water, her white shirt a small, snowy dot.
“Hey, Tao Tianran!”
Tao Tianran’s silhouette wavered, but she still didn’t turn around.
“I’m dead tired from that long flight!” Cheng Xiang yelled, exasperated. “What’s with this sudden artsy sea-gazing act? If you don’t come back, I’m driving this car away myself!”
She didn’t know why she was so emotional.
She just wanted to say: What are you doing, Tao Tianran? I’m already dead! Don’t act like you miss me. I might… start to believe it.
Cheng Xiang’s emotions manifested as anger. She was a paper driver2 and had no idea how to operate a right-hand drive vehicle, but she was so furious she thought, Forget it, I’ll just drive away and not care about anything.
But just then, Tao Tianran walked back from the sea.
Her face was as serene as ever, only her long, dark hair was tousled by the sea breeze. She squinted in the sunlight, making it impossible to imagine what expression she’d worn while looking at that ocean.
“Sorry,” she said to Cheng Xiang again.
She slid back into the driver’s seat and calmly drove away.
Aside from a winding track in the sand, there was no other trace of the undeclared conflict that had just passed between them.
Tao Tianran’s emotions were as placid as a robot’s. She shook hands with Qiao Zhiji’s partner, introduced Kunpu, and then introduced herself and Cheng Xiang.
Qiao Zhiji stood beside her partner. Cheng Xiang hid by Tao Tianran’s side like a quail.
After the pleasantries, they set a time for dinner, and the two of them were free to go to their rooms and rest.
Once the partner had left, Qiao Zhiji walked toward Cheng Xiang. “Care for a walk?”
Tao Tianran’s gaze flicked over.
Cheng Xiang’s heart gave a sudden lurch.
Why do I suddenly feel a little guilty in front of Tao Tianran? Wait, let me think this through. One, she and Tao Tianran had already broken up. What was that phrase? One parting, two wide3. Two, she was Yu Yusheng now. She was here to see Qiao Zhiji on Yu Yusheng’s behalf in the first place.
So she nodded and agreed. “Okay.”
Cheng Xiang really wanted to remind Qiao Zhiji and Tao Tianran of something—
Seychelles: a country where the tourism industry accounts for over seventy percent of the GDP, where half the territory is designated as nature reserves, and which enjoys the reputation of being a “traveler’s paradise.”
Note: this was from her Baidu search.
So what was with these two, each dressed more professionally than the other?
Qiao Zhiji and Cheng Xiang strolled along the coast, keeping a person’s distance between them. Cheng Xiang glanced back toward the villa and saw a slender, white figure standing on the terrace. Was that… Tao Tianran?
This…
Cheng Xiang ran a hand through her thick, curly hair. “Do you mind if I take my shoes off?”
Qiao Zhiji didn’t answer.
Cheng Xiang slipped off her shoes and carried them in her hand. The water rolled in, cool against her skin. She curled her toes, looking down as the sea submerged the tops of her feet before receding again.
The orange-pink sunset was a shade only found at the clearest of seasides.
“I suppose I haven’t broken my promise,” Qiao Zhiji said suddenly.
“Hm?” Cheng Xiang looked up.
In Qiao Zhiji’s eyes, the eighteen-year-old girl had grown into a mature woman. She wore a soft white dress, professional enough without being overly stiff. The dress itself was simple, which only served to highlight the rich, dark cascade of her long, curly hair over her shoulders.
Having just gotten off the plane, she wore no makeup. The usual aggressive allure was softened, and her full lips had a touch of innocent charm.
“I told you before I’d take you to see the sea. I’ve done it.”
She turned to leave.
“Wait,” Cheng Xiang called after her.
She stopped.
Cheng Xiang ventured, “About before… about you dropping out of university, I’m sorry.”
She was taking a gamble.
The history between Qiao Zhiji and Yu Yusheng had happened when Yu Yusheng was in high school. Yu Yuluo had been just an infant then. Not only would it be strange to ask her, but Yu Yuluo probably wouldn’t know the details anyway.
Ask Zhuwei? Even more impossible.
Cheng Xiang could only piece it together in her mind:
Qiao Zhiji had been Yu Yusheng’s tutor during her last year of high school. Afterward, Yu Yusheng had a huge fight with her family, and Qiao Zhiji suddenly dropped out of university. It must have had something to do with the Yu family’s intervention.
Qiao Zhiji stood far off on the beach.
Twilight spread across the sand. A grey-necked gull with delicate legs pecked at the ground near her.
Like Tao Tianran, she favored crisp, white shirts and trousers. The setting sun stretched her tall figure into a long shadow. She looked at Cheng Xiang, her tone deliberately cold and hard. “Is it your place to apologize for that?”
With that, she turned and walked away.
After a few steps, she stopped herself and looked back. She was a great distance from Cheng Xiang now. The wind whipped through her dark hair, blurring her expression, and only the movement of her lips was clear.
She said, “The only thing you need to feel sorry for is that you let go first.”
After saying her piece, Qiao Zhiji truly left.
But as the last of her words faded, the shoes in Cheng Xiang’s hand slipped from her grasp, and she fell to her knees on the sand. Her left hand braced against the grainy surface while her right shot up to press hard against her heart.
There it was again, that feeling of heart palpitations.
It was as if Qiao Zhiji’s words had agitated Yu Yusheng. As if Yu Yusheng was desperate to explain something.
Because Qiao Zhiji hadn’t looked back and the waves masked the sound, she simply walked away. The person who saw Cheng Xiang collapse on the beach was, instead, Tao Tianran, standing on the villa’s terrace.
She ran toward the beach. But when she was a few steps away, she saw that Cheng Xiang’s symptoms were already subsiding. She slowed her pace, approaching at a normal walk.
Cheng Xiang was indeed recovering. After her last sudden fainting spell, it seemed she was instinctively learning to control this body.
The palpitations passed, and she pushed herself up on her wrists, trying to stand.
But her legs were still weak. With a thud, she fell and sat right down on the sand.
Hahahaha. Cheng Xiang wanted to laugh.
Tao Tianran was now standing right in front of her. Why was it that she always managed to lose face in the most spectacular ways around Tao Tianran?
Adopting a devil-may-care attitude, Cheng Xiang sat on the sand and said to Tao Tianran, “My blood sugar is low again.”
Tao Tianran looked down at her.
“…” Cheng Xiang prompted, “Isn’t this the part where you say that, based on last time, you brought candy with you?”
Tao Tianran said, “I didn’t.”
Fine.
“Then can you pull me up?”
“I can’t.”
Cheng Xiang almost laughed out of sheer exasperation. What is with this person? She doesn’t even bother with a tactful excuse when she rejects someone.
A person’s potential is only unlocked when there’s no one else to rely on. Cheng Xiang pushed with her legs, patted the sand off her backside, and stood up by herself.
Tao Tianran didn’t leave right away.
The two of them stood on the beach, one in front of the other, a short distance apart.
The sunset in the distance was truly beautiful, plating the waves with a golden edge. Tao Tianran became a part of the sea. The waves rolled toward her, only to stop at her feet, and yet the golden light crept up her ankles, making her a part of the sunset as well.
Cheng Xiang suddenly spoke. “So what if someone lets go first?”
Tao Tianran looked at her.
“Teacher Tao, in your last relationship, were you the one who let go first? You weren’t, were you?” Cheng Xiang’s lips curled. “Then do you think it was the fault of the person who let go first? Do you people have any idea that it’s often the one who loves more deeply who lets go first?”
Having said her piece, Cheng Xiang walked away.
Her chest was heaving. At first, she walked quickly. Then she carelessly tossed the shoes she was carrying onto the sand, shoved her feet into them, and broke into a run.
She didn’t know why her emotions were in such turmoil.
Perhaps it was this body’s instinctive reaction to seeing Qiao Zhiji—those hormones or whatever were affecting her.
She just wanted to say, Qiao Zhiji, Tao Tianran, do people like you even understand? Do you think the person who loves less is the one who lets go first? You’re dead wrong. Only when you love someone so much that you have no way out will you actively choose to let go!
Cheng Xiang ran for a while before stopping with a cough.
Man, running on a beach was exhausting. She was a little out of breath. In those music videos, they made it look so easy and beautiful. Turns out you couldn’t even pull off an artsy aesthetic without some stamina.
She was unworthy, unworthy.
The dinner was meticulously prepared by Qiao Zhiji’s partner. She was older, in her early forties, with a natural patch of white in the hair at her left temple that made her look both cool and elegant. She and her wife had married abroad and had been together for thirteen years.
She smiled and asked Cheng Xiang, “Are you brave enough to try the local delicacies?”
Cheng Xiang nodded. “No problem.”
She was a picky eater, but Director Ma had trained her to be brave about trying new things. After all, when this great mother of hers had no groceries at home and was too lazy to go out, she was the type to stir-fry strawberries with pork.
Then she would laugh uproariously at little Cheng Xiang’s scrunched-up face.
Hmph. A twisted sense of humor.
The partner smiled and pointed to a plate of curry.
Cheng Xiang stared at the little arms and legs sticking out of the elegant white porcelain dish. “What’s this?”
“…What bat?”
“Fruit bat. It’s a local bat that only eats fruit.”
Cheng Xiang’s knife and fork paused. The partner and her wife laughed softly.
The meal was served on the villa’s terrace. A giant coconut tree loomed overhead, and not far away, the gentle waves stirred the silvery white moonlight.
Candles of varying heights flickered on the table, creating a casual romance unique to the tropics.
Qiao Zhiji was chatting with her partner. Cheng Xiang glanced at Tao Tianran, who was sitting across from her.
There was something so strange about the way Tao Tianran ate.
You couldn’t say she wasn’t eating.
She never once put down her knife and fork, but simply cut her food into countless tiny pieces. Whenever she lifted a small piece to her lips, if someone happened to speak to her, she would lower the silver fork again and turn her head to reply.
It was enough to make Cheng Xiang’s chest tighten with frustration.
Tao Tianran was actually a very skilled conversationalist. This was not to say she was talkative, but rather that when she looked at people, she never seemed to see the whole, but instead picked out their most sparkling qualities with her gaze, as if setting them like jewels.
By the end of the meal, the partner had already sketched out the beginnings of a design for a white diamond ring she wanted to give her wife.
“Tomorrow is New Year’s Eve,” the partner said with a smile. “How about we make dumplings?”
After dinner, Cheng Xiang returned to her room.
It really was a beautiful villa. Retro red bricks paired with a pointed, palm-style roof. The moon-white gauze of the bed canopy was like an old dream stirred by the sea breeze. A high-count cotton towel was draped over the side of a white porcelain, claw-foot bathtub, and the accompanying bath bomb had a local, fresh coconut scent.
But Cheng Xiang was in no mood for it. She walked down to the beach by herself.
To her surprise, someone was already there before her.
A tall, slender figure was walking toward the moonlit sea.
“Hey!” Cheng Xiang cried out in alarm. Oh, god, please don’t let me run into someone having suicidal thoughts.
The tall, slender figure turned around. In the moonlight, Tao Tianran’s serene face was revealed.
“You scared me.” Cheng Xiang walked over, patting her chest. “Oh, Teacher Tao, it’s you.”
If it was Tao Tianran, then she definitely wasn’t having suicidal thoughts.
The woman was a tenth-dan master of emotional stability.
Cheng Xiang had already showered and didn’t want to get her shoes and socks wet. But she saw Tao Tianran standing in the waves, the moonlit tide washing over her ankles. Cheng Xiang glanced to the side and saw a pair of dark beige loafers, where a fiddler crab was waving its claws as it scuttled by.
Tao Tianran suddenly asked, “What does it feel like?”
“Hm?”
“You stood in the waves earlier today, didn’t you?” Tao Tianran asked. “What does it feel like?”
“Aren’t you standing in them right now?”
“I’m asking you.”
“Well, it’s pretty cool,” Cheng Xiang said after a moment. “A little itchy, like someone is licking your toes.”
Hey, doesn’t that sound a bit perverted?
But Tao Tianran, standing in the moonlight, simply nodded as the sea breeze stirred her dark hair.
Cheng Xiang couldn’t help but take a step forward. “What do you mean, Teacher Tao?”
Tao Tianran looked down at her own feet, submerged in the tide. “I just wanted to know what it feels like for someone with a stronger sense of touch with the world to stand here.”
If it had been Cheng Xiang in that convertible, speeding along the coastline.
Would she have stuck her arm out into the sea breeze, spreading her fingers to filter the wind, and laughed loudly, saying, “I’m so full, Tao Tianran! I drank a bellyful of sea breeze.”
If it had been Cheng Xiang standing in the tide on this fine white sand.
Would she have paced back and forth, periodically checking if her shoes and socks on the shore were getting wet, then come back, holding her skirt, and smiled at Tao Tianran, saying, “It’s so itchy, Tao Tianran! Like someone’s licking my feet.”
Tao Tianran walked out of the waves, picked up her shoes and socks, and with a nod to Cheng Xiang by way of farewell, walked back toward the villa alone.
So if Cheng Xiang were here, she thought, she really would have thought it was itchy.
It was just that Cheng Xiang would never have that chance again.
On New Year’s Eve, Cheng Xiang sent Qin Ziqiao a huge red envelope.
Qin Ziqiao nearly had a heart attack when she saw the amount. 【What are you doing?】
Cheng Xiang: 【You know how people online are always wishing their bestie would become a sugar mama and take care of them.】
Qin Ziqiao: 【But you’re not my bestie.】
Cheng Xiang put her phone away, thinking, Hee hee hee, surprise! I am.
In all honesty, the feeling of actually becoming a rich woman and showering her best friend with money was pretty damn good.
No matter where Chinese people go in the world, they love two things: growing vegetables and making dumplings for the Spring Festival. Back home, you never saw this many people so eager to eat dumplings.
Qiao Zhiji’s partner and wife had prepared four different kinds of fillings, covering the entire table. And there were only five of them eating! But in order to use up all the fillings, Cheng Xiang’s hands were sore from wrapping.
How tragic. She was clearly a gong, but the only time in this life her hands had ever been sore was from making dumplings.
After they finally finished wrapping all the dumplings, the partner’s wife volunteered to cook them. Cheng Xiang was already collapsed on the sofa in exhaustion.
She didn’t know where Qiao Zhiji and Tao Tianran had gone, and she didn’t care.
Just let her rest.
It wasn’t until dinner began that Cheng Xiang, faced with several plates full of dumplings, felt that the Spring Festival did have a nice sense of ceremony after all.
“Is there any vinegar?” she asked.
The only pity was that the vinegar from the local Chinese supermarket didn’t taste quite right. If I’d known, Cheng Xiang thought, I would have brought some old Shanxi aged vinegar from home.
As she was thinking this, Cheng Xiang glanced at Tao Tianran across the table.
You can’t cut dumplings, can you? Let’s see what you do now.
Tao Tianran picked up a dumpling and dipped one corner in vinegar. The partner spoke to her, and she put it down. After replying, she picked it up again and dipped its belly in the vinegar. Qiao Zhiji spoke to her, and she put it down again. After replying, she picked it up once more and dipped the other corner in the vinegar.
Cheng Xiang wanted to clutch her own cheeks.
How sour must that be?
Tao Tianran, however, was drinking quite a bit. Sea coconut wine, tequila, even a local beer called Seybrew. Cheng Xiang stopped looking at Tao Tianran’s face and let her gaze fall to her wrist resting on the table. The small ink stain on the side of her middle finger was still there. Her slender, pale wrist emerged from her shirtsleeve.
Alcohol didn’t bring a flush to Tao Tianran’s face. Instead, a magnificent, almost morbid, crimson hue seeped out from the faint blue-purple veins at her wrist.
The partner began a toast. “Happy Spring Festival!”
Tao Tianran raised her glass and let out a faint, baseless laugh.
For some reason, that laugh made Cheng Xiang’s heart ache.
Some people dread holidays the most. Because at the end of every holiday’s name, the word “happy” is naturally attached.
Happy Valentine’s Day. Happy April Fool’s Day. Happy Children’s Day. Happy Mid-Autumn Festival. Happy Spring Festival.
Tao Tianran held her glass loosely, thinking: She had already heard this full cycle of well-wishes. Next would come another year of the same, over and over. It was truly despairing.
The partner’s wife suggested, “I’ve prepared brushes and ink. Why don’t we each write a line of classical poetry to hang in the house tomorrow for the first day of the year?”
“Huh?”
Cheng Xiang was a bit lost. She quickly and discreetly pulled out her phone to look up poems related to the Spring Festival.
“Half a cup of Tusu wine, not yet raised, as small grass script writes peach charms by the lamp5.” Wow, that line was so romantic. Cheng Xiang decided on that one.
Then it was Tao Tianran’s turn.
Cheng Xiang knew Tao Tianran’s calligraphy was exquisite, like her features—spare and full of character. It was probably because she always used a fountain pen, Cheng Xiang thought. Back in elementary school, Director Ma was always saying, “You have to stick with a fountain pen. If you always use those gel pens, you’ll lose your calligraphic edge.”
Eventually, using a fountain pen became too much trouble, and she’d given it up.
Cheng Xiang realized she had never actually seen Tao Tianran write with a brush before, so she stood behind her, craning her neck.
Though she was dressed in an excessively modern white shirt and trousers, the moment she held the small wolf-hair brush, she looked like a female poet from ancient times, washing in snow and rinsing with jade. She inclined her neck slightly, and her long hair slid over her left shoulder.
The others wrote of the New Year, of firecrackers, of the spring wind warming the Tusu wine.
She simply wrote a single line:
[fcnt content="A famous line from 'Huan Xi Sha' (浣溪沙) by the Qing dynasty poet Nalan Xingde (纳兰性德). The poem is a lament for a lost love, expressing deep regret over not cherishing ordinary moments when they were happening."]At the time, it was only thought to be ordinary.[/fcnt]
The partner’s wife raised her glass and asked with a smile, “What does this mean?”
“It means,” Tao Tianran placed the small wolf-hair brush lightly on its rest as the sound of fireworks drifted up from the beach. Amid the clamor, she said in a low voice, “that I, too, was once that happy. Before.”
Footnotes
- 'Benben zu' (本本族), literally 'booklet tribe,' is slang for someone who has their driver's license (the 'booklet') but no actual driving experience.
- 'Yī bié liǎng kuān' (一别两宽) is an idiom from Tang dynasty divorce documents, meaning that after parting, both people can live freely and without resentment.
- Guǒ fú (果蝠). Fruit bat curry, or 'cari chauve-souris,' is a real, though controversial, delicacy in Seychelles.
- A line from 'New Year's Eve Snow' (除夜雪) by the Song dynasty poet Lu You (陆游). Tusu wine (屠苏酒) is a medicinal wine traditionally drunk on New Year's Day for health and longevity. Peach charms (桃符) were protective amulets hung on doors.
How long is she going to torment herself and TTR? (or more accurately, how long will the evil author torment us?). If she could read TTR’s pov she would confess on the spot. Luckily some emotion seems to be leaking through the cracks.