The Alley Was Always This Long – Chapter 64

Confession

“Why Can’t It Be Me?”

[Since getting to know you, a song, a poem, a line of dialogue—all have become my allergens¹, making my nose and eyes flush red for no reason.]

            

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“Ah…” The streetlights scorched the fair, slender back of Cheng Xiang’s neck. Cheng Xiang pursed her lips.

Tao Tianran watched Cheng Xiang from a distance.

Seeing Cheng Xiang purse her lips like that, she ultimately couldn’t bear to leave her.

            

Releasing the breath trapped in her chest, she lowered her head, grabbed the car door handle, and prepared to leave.

“Wait…” For some inexplicable reason, Cheng Xiang took off, running toward Tao Tianran. Her canvas bag slapped against her side, the little bear pendant on the strap swinging back and forth.

Tao Tianran saw her and stood waiting by her car door.

            

Whenever Cheng Xiang ran toward her, it was always the same: she’d start in a frantic rush, as if terrified Tao Tianran might suddenly vanish. But as she drew close, she’d suddenly become self-conscious. Her feet would grind to a halt, and she’d cover the remaining distance at a snail’s pace.

Xiao Xiang, don’t rush, Tao Tianran said to herself.

I’m always here.

            

Cheng Xiang approached and offered a sheepish grin. “What a coincidence, you know? Luo Yan is also going to see the play at 「Wutong」.”

Tao Tianran nodded.

Cheng Xiang looked slightly bewildered. She didn’t actually understand why Tao Tianran was unhappy; she had only sensed it when Tao Tianran lowered her head to open the car door, her shadow looking so thin.

            

“Um…” Cheng Xiang stole a glance at Tao Tianran, her hesitation palpable.

Would Tao Tianran be upset just because she ran into Luo Yan? Was Tao Tianran really that petty? Cheng Xiang wasn’t sure, her slender fingers twisting and winding the strap of her canvas bag over and over.

Tao Tianran lowered her head again, a self-deprecating smile suddenly curling her lips.

            

The current Xiao Xiang didn’t understand why trees felt sorrow, didn’t understand why others would suddenly burst into tears while watching a play, and didn’t understand why seeing Xiao Xiang draw a map for someone else would make her suddenly feel sad.

Perhaps… this was also for the best?

Tao Tianran looked up and offered a soft smile. “I was just passing by. It’s nothing. You should head back.”

            

“Wait,” Cheng Xiang blurted out.

Tao Tianran froze, her hand still on the door handle.

Cheng Xiang’s lips puckered slightly, and tears began to pool in her eyes.

            

A wave of panic hit Tao Tianran. Why was she suddenly about to cry?

Cheng Xiang didn’t know why she felt like crying either.

「I like you so much, Tao Tianran.」

            

The words simply erupted in her mind, completely devoid of order or reason.

Liking you so much that I feel afraid. Liking you so much that I want to cry for no reason.

Shoot, Cheng Xiang thought. They were standing right outside her office building. Perched on the curb that rose just a few centimeters high, she felt her canvas bag slip down her arm to her forearm. She simply grabbed the strap, holding it in her hand, and raised her other hand to clumsily wipe beneath her eyes.

            

This is so embarrassing. Is anyone going to see me crying?

But the beasts of burden² around her rushed past without a second glance, not a single one sparing her any attention. Gosh, Cheng Xiang wanted to cry even more now. She was one of those beasts of burden too, working herself to the bone with daily overtime. Who had the energy to care if a stranger was crying?

Beasts of burden had it rough—so rough that standing here talking about feelings with Tao Tianran felt like an absolute luxury.

            

Tao Tianran raised her hand slightly, but the car still stood between them. Standing on the far side of the vehicle, she looked a bit helpless in the face of Cheng Xiang’s tears.

After standing there for a couple of seconds, she finally walked around to Cheng Xiang, lowering her voice. “Why are you crying?”

Her tone was very gentle.

            

Cheng Xiang kept her head down, pressing the back of her hand against her eyes to stop the tears from spilling over. She sniffled and asked, “Do you have any tissues?”

She’d just used her very last tissue to sketch that map for Luo Yan. Infuriating.

“I don’t,” Tao Tianran said.

            

“How can you not have any tissues?” Cheng Xiang sniffled again.

“Yeah, my mistake,” Tao Tianran replied.

Cheng Xiang found that the back of her hand couldn’t block the warm tears. They slipped past, tracing wet paths down the corners of her eyes.

            

What the heck, why does Tao Tianran have to be so gentle?

She clumsily wiped her face dry, looking up at Tao Tianran with red, round eyes. “Sorry about that.”

Tao Tianran simply stood before her with restraint, her lips slightly pursed.

            

“I startled you, didn’t I?” Cheng Xiang asked.

“It was me who startled you,” Tao Tianran said softly. “My progress was too fast and scared you, didn’t it?”

Cheng Xiang shook her head, stopped, and then nodded. “It did scare me. Yes, it really did.”

            

The toe of her shoe ground slowly against the curb, and her canvas bag felt very heavy.

But she wasn’t scared because Tao Tianran was moving too fast.

It was just… she’d never experienced such a tidal wave of emotion for another person before, and she had instinctively grown afraid.

            

She grinned slightly, looking at Tao Tianran with her red eyes, her fuzzy eyelashes wet and damp. “How should I say this…”

My fear is because I realized I like you way too much.

This awkward anxiety of gain and loss, this state of being at a loss.

            

This inexplicable, baseless sadness of being afraid of losing you.

A feeling that even I can’t explain, how am I supposed to say it to you?

Yet Tao Tianran nodded. “I understand. Yes, I understand.”

            

Why is she so gentle?

Cheng Xiang felt like crying again.

She quickly curled her lip, her eyes darting toward the street stalls selling scallion pancakes and fried rice at the corner of the alley.

            

How romantic, Xiangzi. While everyone else is buying fried rice after work, you’re standing here baring your delicate feelings to Tao Tianran like the female lead in an idol drama.

“Are you afraid we’ll end up with a bad outcome?” Tao Tianran asked.

Cheng Xiang nodded, then shook her head. “I can’t explain it.”

            

Tao Tianran paused. “What about other people?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you were with someone else.”

            

Cheng Xiang shook her head slowly. “I don’t know. I can’t imagine it.”

She had never imagined being with anyone else but Tao Tianran.

“Mm,” Tao Tianran said, lowering her head.

            

Cheng Xiang felt another prickle of guilt, just like she had on the night of Tao Tianran’s birthday.

Why am I so stubborn and difficult?

But it was only because she cared about Tao Tianran so, so much.

            

She instinctively felt that behind this immense joy—one that made her heart swell like a balloon—lay something formidable and sorrowful. Because from that moment on, you would lay bare your raw, bleeding heart to another person. Because of her, every song and every poem would become your allergen.

In the past, she would cry and cry, only to burst into laughter. In the future, she would laugh and laugh, only to burst into tears.

“Wait here for a second,” Tao Tianran said.

            

She walked toward the convenience store by the roadside.

She didn’t know why she hadn’t replaced the tissues in her car after running out; she always seemed a bit oblivious to these minor details of daily life. She stepped into the store, and the clerk asked, “A large pack or a small pack?”

“A large one.”

            

She didn’t know how many tears Cheng Xiang had left—or rather, she knew all too well how much she could cry. Previously, she would drag her suitcase and walk out of that tiny rented room, closing the door behind her; now, she would feel a needle-like sting of sadness in her heart just because Cheng Xiang used a tissue to draw a map for someone else.

Loving someone was, in itself, a sorrowful thing.

It peeled away the heart’s protective shell, leaving the soft, fragile core completely exposed.

            

She emerged from the convenience store with the tissues and handed them to Cheng Xiang standing by the roadside.

Cheng Xiang took them, then suddenly burst out laughing with a pu. “Why did you buy such a massive pack, Tao Tianran?”

The pack was huge, colored in a warm orange-pink with a little bear printed in the top right corner.

            

Cheng Xiang felt that if she held such a big pack of tissues, it would be enough for her to stand here and cry for another three hours.

She laughed through her swollen eyes, and Tao Tianran let out a soft laugh too.

She blinked her thick, fluttery lashes, brushing a wave of dampness and softness across Tao Tianran’s heart.

            

Tao Tianran realized that long before she had agreed to be Cheng Xiang’s girlfriend, she had already fallen for her.

On the night of Cheng Xiang’s confession, when Cheng Xiang’s knees had been scraped up from helping out at the drama club, Tao Tianran had walked to the convenience store by the school gate to buy a box of band-aids.

When she knelt down to apply them, Cheng Xiang had felt a bit self-conscious, turning her toes inward and taking a tiny step back.

            

Tao Tianran’s heart had been just as soft then as it was right now.

When her fingers brushed past Cheng Xiang’s fair, slender knees, her heart was filled with softness. When she handed Cheng Xiang the giant pack of tissues and gazed at her damp lashes, it was soft still.

So this tender feeling was what people called favor.

            

“No more crying, okay?” Tao Tianran said softly.

“Yeah.” Cheng Xiang nodded. “Crying and laughing at the same time makes me look totally crazy.”

“Do you want me to drive you home?”

            

“Oh, no, no, don’t worry about it.” Cheng Xiang shook her head quickly. “You should head back. Be careful driving on the way back.”

Tao Tianran nodded, wanting to give Cheng Xiang some space. She walked back to the driver’s side and climbed into the car.

Standing on the curb, Cheng Xiang gripped both straps of her canvas bag, offered a wide grin, and waved her hand through the car window.

            

She was so sweet, staying behind to see her off because she was worried Tao Tianran might be sad.

Tao Tianran withdrew her gaze, stared straight ahead, and started the engine.

Perhaps they really should just go their separate ways?

            

Just like the lyrics to that song:

「Our hands have touched, our shoulders have brushed, but our souls cannot recognize each other.」

The city lights were far more deceptive than fireworks, casting a mirage of warmth and bustle that fell like a curtain around them.

            

Gripping the steering wheel, Tao Tianran merged into the rushing stream of traffic.

Perhaps it really was already enough.

Countless time loops had been spent just to ensure Xiao Xiang could live safely in a quiet corner of this world. Now she could run out of traditional alleys where pigeons soared, buy a serving of fried rice on a street corner, and laugh mindlessly with her friends.

            

Was it possible that Xiao Xiang might fall in love with someone else?

Someone who wouldn’t bring her such profound grief.

Perhaps many years from now, Tao Tianran would drive past a street corner and see Xiao Xiang holding someone else’s arm, smiling so wide that the delicate skin bunched up beneath her eyes. She’d steal a second glance at Tao Tianran’s car, simply because it was quite eye-catching.

            

Or perhaps she wouldn’t recognize the car at all.

Or maybe she would, and she’d think: What a coincidence. That’s the person who made my heart flutter a long time ago. But we didn’t end up together.

And then they would pass each other by.

            

With no proper end, the story would have quietly drawn to a close after countless intersecting timelines.

Cheng Xiang did indeed buy a plate of fried rice on the street corner.

When she was talking to Tao Tianran earlier, she had tried hard not to cry, keeping her eyes fixed on the fried rice stall at the corner. There was a huge crowd; business was booming.

            

Sigh, watching it had made Cheng Xiang hungry.

Clutching her canvas bag, she walked over and ordered a plate of shredded pork and green pepper fried rice.

“Add an egg, and a slice of pork loin—actually, make it two slices of pork loin.” Cheng Xiang pulled out her phone to scan the QR code. “How much is it?”

            

“Woah, young lady!” The vendor tossed the wok with absolute mastery, a burst of flame leaping from the stove. “You’ve got a killer appetite, huh!”

Cheng Xiang: “…”

She boarded the bus carrying her fried rice. Miraculously, there was a vacant seat today.

            

She sat in the back row by the aisle, turning her head to look out the window. The aroma of the fried rice wafted from the plastic bag, while the giant pack of tissues Tao Tianran had bought cushioned her wrist like a soft pillow inside her canvas bag.

She got off the bus and headed home. Director Ma called out, “We’ve been waiting for you to eat! It’s a miracle you aren’t working overtime today.”

As soon as she saw the fried rice in Cheng Xiang’s hand, she raised her palm and slapped her shoulder. “I told you to stop buying junk food! Did I not make enough dishes at home for you, or what?”

            

Cheng Xiang dodged. “Dad loves buying those cold skin noodles from the wet market too, so why don’t you nag him? If fried rice is junk food, is liangpi³ any better?”

“Hey, you little girl, those noodles aren’t stir-fried in gutter oil! How is that the same?”

“I only realized when I grew up why adults aren’t picky eaters,” Cheng Xiang shot back as she dodged. “It’s because you never buy anything you don’t like! But when it’s something you love, you can always make up a perfect excuse.”

            

Director Ma herself laughed first.

“Fine, fine, fine, you always have a smart mouth. Go wash your hands and eat.”

Cheng Xiang finished eating, returned to her bedroom, and drew her comic for a while.

            

Looking down, she noticed a hangnail on her right index finger and reached over to pull it.

Is this really how it ends? she thought.

Between her and Tao Tianran.

            

She took a bath, dried her hair haphazardly, and fell onto her bed to sleep. But her rest was fitful. At one point, she dreamed of triangle-headed aliens invading Earth; at another, she dreamed of Voldemort whispering sweet nothings to a snake spirit, driving the scorpion spirit half-dead with rage.

She blinked twice upon waking. Why on earth did she dream about triangle-headed aliens?

Ah. She had seen her colleague eating a triangular rice ball at lunch today.

            

Cheng Xiang rolled over in her blanket and realized her charging phone on the nightstand was lit up.

She stared blankly for a second, then reached over to grab it.

It was a WeChat message from Tao Tianran: 【Are you asleep?】

            

The screen read 11:50 PM. Usually, she wouldn’t even be asleep by this hour.

After a brief hesitation, she huddled beneath the blanket and typed back: 【No.】

【Could you step outside for a bit?】

            

Huh? Cheng Xiang set her phone down, rubbed her face, and froze for another couple of seconds before suddenly sitting up and running a hand through her messy bedhead.

Tao Tianran stood beneath the streetlamp right outside the siheyuan⁴.

She was still wearing the long trench coat from earlier that evening. She watched as Cheng Xiang slipped out of the wooden gate decorated with traditional New Year prints like a thief. The gate was old; even a gentle push made it creak.

            

Cheng Xiang let out a quiet “Ouch.” For some inexplicable reason, she kept her posture low. She jogged over to Tao Tianran, her hand holding down the ends of her hair on the left side.

Her hair was too fine and soft, the ends messed up from sleep.

“What’s wrong?” she whispered.

            

“You flipped a coin, didn’t you?” Tao Tianran asked.

“Huh?”

“When you were deciding whether to be with me, you flipped a coin.”

            

“Uh…” Cheng Xiang recalled the coin that had rolled beneath the vending machine. “How did you know?”

“Do you believe in fate?” Under the streetlight, Tao Tianran’s delicate features remained calm and unreadable.

“Well, how should I say this…”

            

“If you believe in fate, let’s try something.”

“What?”

“Say any word pair, and I’ll guess which one is in your heart,” Tao Tianran said. “Give me three chances.”

            

Cheng Xiang was a bit bewildered, her eyes wide as she stared at her.

She let go of her hair, revealing the bent ends of her hair on the left. Her fingers pulled the plaid shirt jacket on her shoulder up a bit.

A dog barked somewhere far off, and an elderly man’s cough echoed from deep within the alleyways.

            

Cheng Xiang whispered, “Red, and blue.”

Tao Tianran looked at the bent lock of hair over her left shoulder. “Blue.”

Cheng Xiang clicked her tongue very lightly.

            

Wrong. She remembered the night she’d flipped a coin with Qin Ziqiao, and the Fanta that had rolled out of the vending machine.

“Fanta, and Cola.”

“Cola.”

            

Cheng Xiang looked at Tao Tianran, her lips twitching slightly.

In truth, this was quite inexplicable, just as inexplicable as tossing a coin.

But she spoke again, her voice soft. “Apple, and watermelon.”

            

The Fanta that had rolled from the vending machine that night had been watermelon-flavored.

Tao Tianran stared at her, her gaze lingering for a long, quiet moment.

Cheng Xiang found her shoulders tensing up. Tao Tianran had asked for three chances, and this was the very last one.

            

Finally, Tao Tianran met her amber eyes and spoke: “Apple.”

Cheng Xiang’s tears streamed down.

She couldn’t say why she cried so easily when facing Tao Tianran.

            

She choked up and nodded. “It’s apple, Tao Tianran. It’s apple.”

Even though the Fanta that had rolled out of the vending machine had been watermelon-flavored, and even though Cheng Xiang had fully intended to choose watermelon when she offered the words, somehow, the word that had settled firmly in her heart was “apple.”

She couldn’t even find a connection.

            

Unlike seeing her colleague eat a rice ball at the office and dreaming about triangle-headed aliens, she hadn’t seen anyone eat an apple today, nor had she even touched any apple-flavored snacks.

She had no idea why she was so absolutely certain of “apple.”

Tao Tianran took a step forward, gently cupping her chin, and used the pad of her finger to wipe her tears. “Why are you crying again?”

            

“I don’t know.”

“Are you upset that I guessed right? You don’t want to be with me?”

“No…”

            

“Actually, I’ve thought about it,” Tao Tianran said.

“Huh?” With her chin cupped by Tao Tianran, the pads of her fingers lightly scraped against her cheek, feeling like cool jade.

“If facing me brings you as much sadness as it does happiness, would it be better if I didn’t disturb you?”

            

Cheng Xiang bit her lower lip.

“But,” Tao Tianran said, “I don’t want to.”

Cheng Xiang stared at her.

            

“Since I’m here, rather than leaving your happiness and sadness to someone else, why can’t it be me?”

Almost in the blink of an eye, Cheng Xiang’s tears fell from her eye sockets.

“But I’m very cowardly, Tao Tianran.”

            

“It’s fine, I’m not cowardly, I’ll come find you.” Tao Tianran gently wiped away the tears that continued to stream down.

“But what if… what if…”

“Take your time.”

            

“What if I had ended up thinking of watermelon?” After all, that was what she had originally intended.

A faint smile touched Tao Tianran’s lips, her elegant face illuminated by the streetlight. “I didn’t come to find you tonight to say that you have to be with me if I guess correctly.”

“I asked you to give me three chances because I wanted to show you that even if I got every single one wrong, I’d still want to be with you.” Tao Tianran’s brow furrowed slightly, but she kept smiling. “I don’t care about the coin flip, and I don’t care if I guessed wrong.”

            

“A person like me… doesn’t believe in heaven’s will.”

If she believed in heaven’s will…

She should have forgotten her maternal grandmother’s home, where a drainage ditch ran past the door.

            

She should have forgotten the snails stretching their tentacles out of the ditch on rainy days.

She should have let it go when Cheng Xiang proposed their breakup.

When she packed her suitcase and left, slamming the door with a bang.

            

When Cheng Xiang died in that car crash.

When she accompanied Cheng Xiang into loop after loop.

She should have accepted it long ago.

            

She should have turned the page on Cheng Xiang, just as she had with her grandmother’s home, her home on the slopes of Gangdao, and every single place she had drifted through since childhood.

Yet here she stood.

Cradling Cheng Xiang’s warm cheek in her palm, she felt her wet tears seep into the lines of her hand. It was a tangible, living warmth.

            

“I don’t believe in heaven’s will, nor do I believe in fate,” Tao Tianran said. “I want to be with you.”

Another tear escaped Cheng Xiang’s eye, dampening her lashes once more.

From the courtyard behind them came Deputy Director Cheng’s cough, followed by Director Ma’s hushed voice asking, “Hey, did you remember to take your blood pressure medicine tonight?”

            

Everything was so ordinary and mundane, yet Tao Tianran, standing there before her, seemed so unreal.

“You don’t have to make a decision tonight,” Tao Tianran said. “I don’t want to pressure you into anything. Take your time. I just wanted to tell you… I’m always right here.”

Her thumb brushed over Cheng Xiang’s cheek once more. She raised her hand and placed it horizontally over Cheng Xiang’s eyes, gently covering them. “Stop crying. What if your eyes are swollen tomorrow morning?”

            

Her body temperature was always low, her fingers cool like an ice compress.

Cheng Xiang instinctively closed her eyes, her lashes sweeping across her palm.

Slipping her hand away, Tao Tianran tucked it back into her trench coat pocket, curling her fingers into a fist. “I’ll head off first.”

            

She turned to walk away.

She didn’t dare stay for another second. She wanted to kiss Xiao Xiang—to kiss her damp lashes and slightly swollen eyes. She wanted to protect her, but she also wanted to tease her. She wanted every single emotion Cheng Xiang felt from now on to be because of her.

Tao Tianran barely managed to soothe her racing heart: Take it slow.

            

Take it slow, Tao Tianran.

Cheng Xiang stood beneath the streetlight, watching Tao Tianran’s receding figure. She was so slender, her long shadow stretching diagonally—half splayed across the pavement, half cast upon the dark gray wall of the alley.

Behind her, Tao Tianran heard a sudden flurry of footsteps. dududu—someone was running toward her.

            

Before she could even register it, Cheng Xiang grabbed her slender wrist where it protruded from her trench coat pocket, and then, Cheng Xiang kissed her.

Rather than a kiss, it was more like Cheng Xiang had desperately collided with her lips.

Caught completely off guard, she took a slight step back, her hand moving instinctively to cradle the back of Cheng Xiang’s head.

            

Cheng Xiang pressed against her, the salt of her tears still lingering on her small, plump lips. Her tongue coaxed her teeth apart.

Tao Tianran was taken aback by her initiative.

Until Cheng Xiang whispered against her mouth, “Why is your mouth closed so tight?”

            

Tao Tianran parted her teeth, and Cheng Xiang’s tongue slipped inside.

Cheng Xiang had absolutely zero experience with kissing; she simply tilted her head up and stood there stiff as a board. It was Tao Tianran who cradled the back of her head with one hand and wrapped her other arm around her waist.

Look at you, Xiangzi, you’ve really outdone yourself, Cheng Xiang thought.

            

Her parents were still awake in the courtyard behind her, yet she had the audacity to kiss a woman under the streetlamp right outside their wall.

To kiss a woman who seemed to belong to a world so far removed from her own.

Cheng Xiang threw both arms around Tao Tianran’s waist, and their lips and tongues locked together.

            

In the late spring night, tiny insects buzzed and rattled against the lamp cover. Cheng Xiang tilted her face up, her lips damp from their passionate kiss, and whispered, “Do you want to come to my house?”

“Huh?” Tao Tianran was surprised once again.

Cheng Xiang took Tao Tianran’s hand and led her toward her family’s courtyard home.

            

As they pushed open the creaking wooden gate, she turned back to Tao Tianran and put a finger to her lips. “Shh—”

In a hushed voice, Tao Tianran asked, “But… why are you crouching like that?”

Cheng Xiang froze, then suddenly split into a wide grin. “I don’t know either! How silly.”

            

Even so, she kept her posture low as she slipped into the courtyard, with Tao Tianran trailing closely behind her.

Another cough from Deputy Director Cheng sounded from the master bedroom.

“Oh, boy!” Cheng Xiang hopped in place, took three quick strides to her bedroom door, pushed it open, and ushered Tao Tianran inside.

            

She swiftly locked the door, leaning her back against it with her hands tucked behind her, staring at Tao Tianran.

“Tao Tianran.”

“Yes?”

            

“Turn around. Behind you is the phoenix tree that grows inside the house, the one I told you about.”

“Mm,” Tao Tianran murmured, but she didn’t turn. Her eyes remained locked on Cheng Xiang.

Cheng Xiang felt a light sheen of sweat on the tip of her nose. Just as she was about to pull her hands out to touch it, Tao Tianran stepped forward.

            

Wrapping her arms around her, she leaned down and kissed her once more.

Cheng Xiang tilted her head back, her slender waist held firmly in Tao Tianran’s embrace.

“I like you so much…” she murmured against Tao Tianran’s lips. “So much that I didn’t even know I was capable of loving someone like this.”

            

Cheng Xiang’s waist had always been exceptionally soft. Tao Tianran hesitated for a fraction of a second, wondering if her hands should be more restrained.

But her hands seemed to possess a mind of their own. Slipping beneath Cheng Xiang’s sweatshirt, they glided up her soft waist. Cupping the sides of Cheng Xiang’s waist with her palms, her fingers traced backward toward the spine, quickly brushing against a metal clasp.

A shiver ran down Cheng Xiang’s spine, goosebumps blooming across her skin; the spring air was just as cool as Tao Tianran’s fingers.

            

She was utterly out of her depth, unsure of what to do with her own hands. All she knew was that a roaring fire was burning in her stomach, parching her throat.

Clinging tightly to Tao Tianran, she slipped her hands beneath her trench coat. Imitating Tao Tianran, she pulled the hem of Tao Tianran’s shirt out from her trousers.

Tao Tianran was incredibly slender, her skin like smooth, delicate jade, feeling so thin and fragile in her arms. Yet as Cheng Xiang’s hands moved forward on instinct, she discovered all of Tao Tianran’s soft warmth was gathered in one place.

            

Cheng Xiang’s ears burned. Am I being a total pervert?

But Tao Tianran didn’t pull away. She leaned down slightly, holding her just as before, her cool cheek resting against Cheng Xiang’s ear. Then, she let out a soft sigh.

Oh, god! Cheng Xiang felt like she was going crazy.

            

Stumbling backward in their embrace, they tumbled onto the bed. She whispered to Tao Tianran, “Turn your head. The phoenix tree is right next to you.”

While Tao Tianran turned to look, Cheng Xiang withdrew her hands for a moment to undo the buttons near Tao Tianran’s collar.

She’d never realized she could be so “bad.”

            

In truth, her movements were incredibly clumsy and unpracticed. Tao Tianran’s shirts were always buttoned neatly all the way to the top, looking very ascetic. But now, her usually neat black hair was splayed somewhat messily across her face, and she gazed up at her through the dark strands.

Cheng Xiang began struggling with her own sweatshirt.

Once they were holding each other without any barriers between them, Cheng Xiang let out a sigh that seemed to escape from the very depths of her soul. She had never imagined that two women embracing could feel so… comforting.

            

Only a woman’s skin could have this kind of smoothness, this kind of fragrance. They were equally desperate, yet equally tender.

Cheng Xiang pressed herself close to Tao Tianran, keeping her voice incredibly low. “What next?”

“Hmm?” Tao Tianran tried to even out her breath. In truth, the wooden frame of Cheng Xiang’s small bed was quite hard, and since Cheng Xiang was beneath her, the boards were pressing into them slightly.

            

Cheng Xiang whispered in a tiny, timid voice, “I… I don’t know what to do. And… and I’m too scared.”

The corner of Tao Tianran’s mouth twitched, and she let out a soft laugh.

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