The Alley Was Always This Long – Chapter 5

by Little Panda

Encounter

“Tian-Sheng match.”

[The “love” that hadn’t been spoken enough,
The “hate” that had yet to be voiced,
And the marine snow raised by the dying plankton in the deep sea that she had not yet seen.
There were still so many regrets, what could she do?]

Cheng Xiang returned home and thoroughly went through Yu Yusheng’s handbag and room.

Summarizing some basic information: First, the Eldest Miss Yu had just returned from Spain; her suitcase still had the international flight luggage tag attached. Second, coincidentally, the Eldest Miss Yu was a jewelry designer. A crystal glass trophy sat on her bookshelf—a European design award she had won before returning home. The winning piece was a lizard-shaped tsavorite necklace, an exquisitely unique design.

Cheng Xiang looked it up online. Wow, incredible. For a twenty-six-year-old Chinese designer to win this award was no small feat.

Furthermore, Cheng Xiang flipped through Yu Yusheng’s phone contacts and discovered that the Eldest Miss Yu was absolutely an E person¹. Her WeChat friends were nearly at the maximum limit, and any random Moments post had countless likes.

As for her previous lifestyle, she drank, she danced—it seemed she had won this grand prize effortlessly.

In the photos, Yu Yusheng’s makeup wasn’t actually heavy. Only her eyeliner was distinctly drawn, making her amber eyes angle upwards, looking even more like a cat. Lounging in a sofa with a shallow glass of liquor, wearing a tight dress that accentuated her waist-to-hip ratio, her entire body looked bonelessly soft.

Her shoulders caught a translucent glint on camera, likely from a light gold body highlighter.

Cheng Xiang found that box of body highlighter by the vanity mirror. She twisted it open; the scent was incredibly pleasant—a sweet fragrance mixed with a hint of a woody note, smelling like orange blossom.

Cheng Xiang sat on the edge of the bed with one leg drawn up. She couldn’t feel out any more information about Yu Yusheng.

Take it slow.

What she had grasped so far was at least enough to keep her from exposing her flaws too quickly.

But where had the real Yu Yusheng gone? How did she end up transmigrating into Yu Yusheng’s body?

Could it be that, like her… she had died?

Yet looking at the Yu family, there didn’t seem to be anything abnormal. Cheng Xiang even looked up the return flight she had taken, and there was no news of a crash or any passenger suffering a sudden illness.

She had thought she would be unable to sleep from the information overload in her brain, but perhaps because she hadn’t yet adapted to this new body after transmigrating, she fell into a deep slumber.

When she opened her eyes early the next morning, a fluffy human head in her arms gave her such a fright that she jolted up from the bed.

Yu Yuluo rubbed her sleepy eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I should be the one asking you that, right?” Cheng Xiang said. “What are you doing in my bed?”

“Isn’t today your first day of work since you got back to the country?” Yu Yuluo squeezed out a soft, sugary pinched baby voice². “Can I have a present?”

“What present?”

“Yesterday, Che Ming gave Qi Tiantian a bouquet of flowers made of strawberries. Every single strawberry was wrapped in the shape of a flower, it was so pretty.” Yu Yuluo said, “Could you send a bouquet to my school? I’ll just pretend that some little boy or little girl secretly sent it to me.”

Cheng Xiang was shocked. “How old are you again?”

“Third grade.” Yu Yuluo rolled her eyes at her, assuming this was just another trick to get out of giving a gift.

Cheng Xiang was just thinking that kids nowadays were entirely too precocious. She had spent her entire elementary school years playing in the mud. It wasn’t until her second year of high school, when Tao Tianran suddenly transferred to their school, that she felt as though her soul had been ignited.

“I can send it to you,” Cheng Xiang said.

“Really?” Yu Yuluo actually looked a bit skeptical.

“As long as you tell me where I work.”

Yu Yuluo gave her a look that said, Did you drink yourself stupid abroad? before waving her hand dismissively, as if giving up. “Why do you care? The company will send a car to pick you up anyway.”

Whoa, such high-tier treatment.

Cheng Xiang began to feel a little jealous of Yu Yusheng.

She coaxed Yu Yuluo out and got up to wash. The Eldest Miss Yu’s wardrobe wasn’t overly flashy; it mostly consisted of professional suits. Or rather, the Eldest Miss Yu deeply understood the true essence of aesthetics—she knew that compared to complicated dresses, it was the professional suits that suited her best.

Her cat-like face was already dense with charm; trying too hard to dress up would instead make her look tacky.

Professional suits were better. That hint of seriousness contrasted with her inherently enchanting bones, like a flower on the tundra, salt on watermelon, or a small patina of copper bitten into velvet by the years.

Striking enough, and thus all the more precious.

After getting ready, she went downstairs. Sure enough, a young woman was waiting at the door.

“Teacher Yu³, welcome back. The company car is waiting for you.” She politely held the car door open for her.

“Don’t call me Teacher Yu, it sounds too distant,” Cheng Xiang said as she got in. “Let’s just use my English name, Shianne, okay?”

Her surname wasn’t actually Yu; it would take her half a second to react if someone called her that.

“Oh, alright.”

The company car came with a driver. Cheng Xiang sat in the back. Throughout the drive, the driver and the assistant in the front were very quiet.

It was a beautiful, sunny day, with only white snow piled up in the shrubs along the street. The towering, all-glass building before them lay dormant in the sunlight like a giant Qilin beast.

The assistant guided Cheng Xiang inside while handing her a staff badge. “Freshly made, Shianne. The lobby has new turnstiles, remember to swipe here.”

“Mhm.”

As soon as Cheng Xiang entered the lobby, she clicked her tongue in awe.

The five-meter high lobby featured a bio-mimetic waterfall with bubbling streams. The air was suffused with an incense scent reminiscent of Libre⁴. The urban beauties around her all wore professional suits paired with stiletto heels. Carrying their pour-over coffees through the turnstiles, they said “hi” to one another in English.

So chic! Cheng Xiang immediately thought of her past life. The ceiling in her shabby little office building had been incredibly cramped. The office next to theirs was rented to an artificial plant company, and the hallway was always piled high with cardboard boxes of inventory.

Every morning, walking past with her jianbing guozi⁵ in hand, she had to struggle to squeeze her legs through. From early on, the stairwell would drift with the smell of green pepper and shredded pork from the lunchbox prep.

They didn’t have to wear professional suits either. T-shirts and shorts in the summer, hoodies and jeans in the spring and autumn—even if you wore flip-flops to work, nobody cared.

The hem of the T-shirt Cheng Xiang used to wear to work was even stained with a speck of oil from eating mutton hotpot that couldn’t be washed out.

Walking through the glamorous lobby now, she felt a little insecure and raised a hand to rub the hem of her shirt.

The material felt incredibly smooth, astonishingly good to the touch. She looked closely. There was no T-shirt oil stain—she was clearly wearing an exquisite cashmere shirt.

It was very strange.

She had genuinely thought that spending money like water after transmigrating into Yu Yusheng would feel amazing. But at this moment, she suddenly missed the past Cheng Xiang a little.

The assistant led her to the twenty-third floor. “Shianne, is it okay if you take your old desk?”

“Sure.” Cheng Xiang went with the flow.

She glanced at the front desk display. The crystal acrylic clearly spelled out the company’s name: “Kunpu.”

Cheng Xiang’s heart gave a violent leap.

Just then, Tao Tianran walked out of the pantry carrying a cup of coffee, coming face to face with the newly arrived Cheng Xiang and her assistant.

Cheng Xiang finally remembered why she had felt the name “Yu Yusheng” was familiar the first time she saw it.

Because she had heard it before.

It was back when she and Tao Tianran hadn’t broken up yet. One day, Tao Tianran returned to their rented apartment after work, the frost around her eyes having melted by a fraction.

“You’re in a somewhat good mood today, huh?” Cheng Xiang teased her. “What, got a promotion and a raise?”

Tao Tianran shook her head, tossing down her handbag, her tone remaining flat. “No, I just met someone interesting today.”

“Who?” Cheng Xiang grew alert.

Who else could be more interesting than her?

She could be ‘hahaha’ interesting, ‘hehehe’ interesting, ‘huhuhahi’ interesting.

“Just a newcomer at the company,” Tao Tianran said lightly. “Her work is quite interesting.”

“What’s her name?” Cheng Xiang, who was cooking at the time, yelled from the kitchen, pretending to be casual.

“Yu Yusheng.”

Tao Tianran’s cool, clear voice was drowned out by the worldly sizzle and smoke of the cooking oil.

At this moment, Cheng Xiang stared at Tao Tianran and zoned out for a second. She hadn’t seen Tao Tianran in the early morning for a long time. She had always felt that Tao Tianran was most beautiful in the early hours, before that layer of makeup forged for workplace etiquette had tightly adhered to her face.

Thus, between the makeup and the skin, it was as if a wisp of her soul peeked through.

That was the fissure between her and the world, allowing you a one-second glimpse of the real her—haughty, a little impatient, yet vivid. Whenever she twitched her brow, the two small, ink-dark moles there would move along with it.

She would then twist the pinky ring on her right hand, as if holding back a yawn. It was kind of cute.

And then, as the makeup fully molded to her face, all you could see was the flawless, frost-bound, emotionless Tao Tianran.

Even now, Cheng Xiang would lose her soul for a second at the sight of the early-morning Tao Tianran. Looking at the two little moles at the corner of her eye and the end of her brow, she recalled how, in the past, she had even pathetically wished she could be a mole on Tao Tianran’s face.

To be her punctuation mark for the world, annotating her interpretation of it.

Right now, Tao Tianran merely held her coffee, gave her a slight nod, and walked coolly toward her exclusive office, shutting the door behind her.

The assistant smiled at Cheng Xiang. “Teacher Tao, you know how she is.”

She led Cheng Xiang into the open office area. “Your desk.”

The cleaners had already tidied it up. A lively pot of green pothos sat on the desk.

“Hi Shianne, you’re back in the country!” Her colleagues greeted her one after another.

Cheng Xiang smiled and nodded in response, noticing that apart from the assistant’s level, most colleagues called her directly by her English name, which made things much easier for her.

She sat down, opened the computer, reset her password, and logged into DingTalk⁶.

A small group chat popped up:

【Ahhhhh did you guys see?!】

【This morning, as soon as Shianne entered the company, she greeted Teacher Tao!】

? Cheng Xiang thought to herself: Did I? Did I greet Tao Tianran?

【Teacher Tao nodded at Shianne! Just like this!】

Someone dropped an emoji sticker of a haughty, beautiful cat nodding.

Pfft. Cheng Xiang watched the chat, stifling a laugh. Not gonna lie, that really does look like Tao Tianran.

Wait, no. Why are they discussing me so openly in a group chat that I’m in?

Had gathering dust in this group chat for a year abroad made everyone forget she was still in it?

【Ahhhhh I’m dead! The Tian-Sheng match⁷ CP is back in business!】

【Mama, it’s a festival for me! From today on, I’m willing to work for free!】

Cheng Xiang stared at the group chat, unsure of what she was feeling.

【Can’t blame us, the Tian-Sheng match is just too good to ship!】

【You guys didn’t see it. Even though they were both wearing shirts and dress pants.】

【But you know Teacher Tao. Long, straight black hair, always wearing those stiff, structured shirts paired with slim-fit dress pants with ironed-in creases.】

【Shianne’s shirts are always soft and draped, paired with high-waisted wide-leg trousers. Curvy in all the right places, and her waistline is so soft!】

【So the question is, who’s the gong⁸?】

【Teacher Tao, obviously! I paid close attention. Her heels are shorter than Shianne’s, yet she’s still half a head taller. When they met, she pressed her chin down while holding her coffee!】

【Mama, I’m dead!】

Then came a synchronized line of Shiba Inu emojis clutching their chests:

【Mama, I’m dead!】

Cheng Xiang: …

Just then, the assistant came over to remind her, “We have a meeting this morning, remember?”

“Ah?” Cheng Xiang minimized the group chat. “Yeah.”

The colleagues filed into the meeting room. Cheng Xiang followed at the very back, watching Tao Tianran’s back as she came out of her office and walked at the front.

At that moment, a colleague’s phone rang, using a voice line of Cao Cao from 《Honor of Kings》 as a notification tone: “I would rather betray the world than let the world betray me!⁹“

“You’re playing the Chancellor¹⁰?” another colleague joked. “Turn it off quickly, the big boss will hear it.”

Upon hearing the word “Chancellor,” Cheng Xiang’s heart leaped again. She couldn’t help but feel as though they were calling her.

She looked ahead at Tao Tianran’s back. Her left shoulder seemed to twitch very slightly.

But perhaps it was just her illusion. Because Tao Tianran had kept walking forward without breaking her stride.

Director Ma and Deputy Director Cheng’s attitude toward “Cheng Xiang” was one of grief so deep they refused to mention her.

Qin Ziqiao’s attitude toward “Cheng Xiang” was suddenly shedding tears while eating ice cream.

So what about Tao Tianran?

Over the past year, had she ever thought of Cheng Xiang?

Cheng Xiang pursed her lips, feeling them almost go numb. She walked into the conference room and chose a corner seat, forming the furthest possible diagonal from Tao Tianran.

Tao Tianran opened a leather-bound notebook, holding a Montblanc fountain pen, casually sketching something unknown. A strand of long, straight black hair slipped down to rest on her shoulder. The pinky ring on her right hand glinted in the meeting room lights.

Today’s meeting was personally hosted by the big boss, welcoming Cheng Xiang back from her studies in Spain and expressing hope that she would contribute greatly to the company.

Then he asked Cheng Xiang, “Do you have any ideas for this quarter’s design theme?”

The whole room looked toward Cheng Xiang, including Tao Tianran.

Cheng Xiang’s gaze landed on the strand of long hair resting on Tao Tianran’s left shoulder. She parted her lips slightly. “Regret.”

“What?” The big boss hadn’t heard clearly.

“Regret.” Cheng Xiang’s eyes lifted bit by bit, moving past Tao Tianran’s sharp shirt collar, her fair, slender neck, her thin lips, and finally locking onto Tao Tianran’s unruffled, placid eyes.

“Regret…” The big boss curled his knuckles and tapped the table. “Interesting. Where does the inspiration come from? Do you have any regrets of your own?”

After all, Yu Yusheng’s previous works mostly triumphed through their shapes. She had designed quite a few lizard-shaped pieces of jewelry, which were considered a major hallmark of Kunpu.

“Me…”

Cheng Xiang didn’t know how many seconds she had maintained eye contact with Tao Tianran before she shifted her gaze away, looking at the massive painting hung on the meeting room’s feature wall—a stretch of azure sea, piling up with silvery-white foam like the moment the Little Mermaid faded away.

Cheng Xiang curled the corners of her lips into a smile and leaned back lazily against the chair, putting on a trace of the languid charm that belonged exclusively to Yu Yusheng. “I haven’t seen marine snow yet.”

“What is marine snow?” Many colleagues had never heard of it.

“Marine snow is…” Cheng Xiang’s gaze lowered bit by bit, falling back onto Tao Tianran’s left shoulder, as if using her eyes to brush away the hair swept across her neck. “When the dying organic matter of the deep sea gathers together, piling up into large clusters of white foam. The final swan song of life, resembling snow.”

“Oh, so poignant?” the colleagues murmured among themselves.

Cheng Xiang’s gaze remained lowered on Tao Tianran’s left shoulder. From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Tao Tianran’s bony, slender right hand lifting the fountain pen. Yet, she wrote nothing; the nib simply stalled against the paper.

Cheng Xiang recalled the days when she and Tao Tianran hadn’t yet broken up.

Tao Tianran would sit properly at the desk drawing design drafts, while she lay on her stomach on their tiny 1.5-meter bed, flipping through an expired, discounted print magazine, her slender calves kicked up and crossed in the air.

“Hey, Tao Tianran.” She turned a glossy page. “The National Geographic website says that as ocean temperatures continue to rise in recent decades, dying organic matter will form large clusters of white mucus. Sounds a bit gross when you put it like that, right?”

She swung her legs, chattering away. “But this phenomenon has another name. It’s called marine snow. It’s so tragic and heroic—who would use their own dying life to complete a scene of absolute beauty?”

“Let’s go see it together someday, okay?” Cheng Xiang put down the magazine and wrinkled her nose. “Hey, did you hear me or not, Tao Tianran?”

Did the Tao Tianran who had been buried in her design drafts hear her back then?

Even now, Xiao Xiang still didn’t know.

The author has something to say:

Did you all see the bright, capitalized, bolded 【HE】¹¹ in the summary? ~

I just forgot to write it in, hey, why are you guys panicking

Footnotes

In modern Chinese internet slang, an 'E person' (from the MBTI personality test's 'Extraversion') refers to a highly extroverted, sociable individual.
Literally 'clip voice' (jiāziyīn). A modern Chinese internet slang term for a deliberately pinched, artificially sweet, and high-pitched 'baby voice' meant to sound cute or coaxing.
In professional Chinese settings, adding 'Teacher' (Lǎoshī) after a surname is a common, respectful way to address skilled professionals, artists, or senior colleagues, regardless of whether they actually teach.
A reference to Yves Saint Laurent's 'Libre' perfume, known for its distinctive blend of orange blossom, lavender, and musk.
Jiān bing guǒ zi is a popular Chinese street food consisting of a savory crepe folded around a crisp fried cracker or dough stick, often brushed with sauces and topped with scallions.
A popular enterprise communication and collaboration platform in China, developed by Alibaba Group.
A portmanteau of Tao Tianran ('Tian') and Yu Yusheng ('Sheng'). It is a homophone for the Chinese idiom 'tiānshēng yīduì' (天生一对), meaning 'a match made in heaven.'
In Chinese BL/GL (Boys' Love/Girls' Love) fandom terminology, the 'gong' (攻) refers to the active/dominant partner, equivalent to a 'top.'
A famous, oft-quoted line attributed to the warlord Cao Cao in the classic historical novel 'Romance of the Three Kingdoms.' In the mobile game 'Honor of Kings' (王者荣耀), this is one of Cao Cao's voice lines.
The Chinese word for Chancellor or Prime Minister is 'chéngxiàng,' which is pronounced identically to Cheng Xiang's name.
In Chinese web fiction fandoms, 'HE' stands for 'Happy Ending.'

JavaScript is Blocked

The Alley Was Always This Long – Chapter 5

Footnotes

0 Comments