The Alley Was Always This Long – Chapter 80

by Little Panda

Bite Mark

Two fingers pinching Yu Yusheng’s chin.

[The sky is an ocean beyond the sea,
you are the self beyond myself.]

Qiao Zhiji’s spacious penthouse apartment was decorated in a cold, minimalist palette of black, white, and gray.

Including the king-sized bed, which shared her own aura of detached indifference.

But right now, the slate-gray bedding was crumpled into a mess. Yu Yusheng’s lace bra, tossed aside, lay draped over her black underwear, still carrying the warmth of both their bodies.

Qiao Zhiji held her slender wrist and said, “It hurts.”

Yu Yusheng’s breathing was low and deep, her long, glamorous curls falling along the sides of her face. “Want me to stop?”

“You’re just as foolish as you were seven years ago.” Even as Qiao Zhiji said this, she closed her eyes and released Yu Yusheng’s wrist.

Then her brow furrowed deeply.

Yu Yusheng didn’t think she had any technique worth speaking of—after all, in the many years since she and Qiao Zhiji had parted, she hadn’t thought about such things. But now her alcohol-saturated brain held only one hazy thought: this was the person she had loved since she was eighteen.

She didn’t need technique. She only wanted to have her.

Her glamorous long curls tangled with Qiao Zhiji’s cool, straight black hair.

Had Qiao Zhiji grown old?

Yu Yusheng used one hand to brush the sweat from her forehead, borrowing a sliver of lamplight to study every subtle reaction on her face.

Her eyelashes wore delicate mascara, now smudged by sweat, revealing the same clear, gentle eyes Yu Yusheng had seen when they first met. Suddenly her eyes opened, brow furrowing as she looked at Yu Yusheng: “Stop—”

Yu Yusheng didn’t want to stop.

Qiao Zhiji hadn’t grown old. She had only become more mature, composed, confident, alluring—an allure that, for Yu Yusheng, meant she would always be that girl following in Qiao Zhiji’s footsteps, wearing her eighteen-year-old school uniform, not knowing where her future led.

Only in moments like this did she feel she could possess her, have her, and for a brief while believe she could catch up to her.

She was drenched in sweat too, pressing close against Qiao Zhiji’s shoulder, breathing hard.

When Qiao Zhiji walked to the bathroom to rinse off, she glanced at the bite mark on her shoulder in the mirror.

Coming out of the bathroom, Yu Yusheng was leaning against the headboard draped in a shirt, a cigarette between her fingers—not lit, since she hadn’t asked permission.

Qiao Zhiji pulled her own blazer from the bed and draped it over her shoulders, then pinched Yu Yusheng’s chin between two fingers. “Year of the Dog?”

Yu Yusheng gave a low laugh.

Qiao Zhiji: “I’d say you’re a fox.”

Yu Yusheng thought to herself that foxes were actually quite timid creatures.

After dressing and leaving Qiao Zhiji’s apartment, Yu Yusheng still felt a bit dizzy. Late at night, young men on motorcycles roared past the high-end residential complex where Qiao Zhiji lived, hidden away in the midst of the city.

The night provided the best cover. Someone with Yu Yusheng’s look—long curls, red lips, the commanding presence of a yujie—would rarely have anyone dare to approach her. But now a group of riders stopped in front of her, whistling: “Hey, gorgeous, want to come hang out with us?”

Yu Yusheng narrowed her eyes.

The sound of high heels came from behind her.

A blazer was tossed over Yu Yusheng’s shoulders. She raised a hand to press it in place before it could slip. Qiao Zhiji stepped forward, dressed in tailored trousers and heels—giving no hint whatsoever of how soft she had been in bed.

Her elegant oval face and almond-shaped eyes clearly lit up the young men’s gazes. But her expression was too cold. They exchanged glances; none dared speak rashly.

She spoke—not to the young men, but to Yu Yusheng behind her: “Got a cigarette?”

Yu Yusheng’s mind was still in a jumble. She reached out reflexively, fished a pack and a lighter from her bag, and handed them over.

Qiao Zhiji took them, drew out a cigarette.

Yu Yusheng didn’t think she smoked, but she lit it with practiced calm. The sparking flint illuminated half her face. A wisp of blue smoke drifted from between her fingers. Her cool lids lifted, and this time she looked at the group of young men, asking: “Still not leaving?”

“Why should we leave?” One of them, feeling slighted, scoffed. “You a cop?”

Qiao Zhiji snapped the metal lid of the lighter shut with a click. “Lawyer.”

Her voice was cold and solemn. On the lapel of her blazer was a small, gleaming pin composed of three L-shaped elements.

The young men might not recognize the pin, but her entire presence was so convincing that they exchanged a look, revved their engines, and rode off.

Qiao Zhiji walked back to Yu Yusheng’s side and held the cigarette to her lips.

“For me?”

“Mm. To sober you up.”

Yu Yusheng leaned down and took the filter between her lips, but Qiao Zhiji’s fingers lingered for a moment, feeling the heat radiating from her full lips.

Two seconds later, Qiao Zhiji withdrew her fingers and said, “Let’s go.”

She started walking toward the curb.

“Where to?”

“Taking you home.”

Yu Yusheng pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead and followed her. “You’re not driving?” From the look of it, Qiao Zhiji intended to hail a car.

Qiao Zhiji glanced back at her. “I’m worried about drunk driving.”

Qiao Zhiji herself hadn’t been drinking tonight, but in the intimacy of the bed, while Yu Yusheng had been moving above her, her lips and tongue had pressed deep into Qiao Zhiji’s mouth, and Qiao Zhiji had felt a wave of scorching alcohol on her breath.

Yu Yusheng said nothing more, standing to the side wrapped in Qiao Zhiji’s blazer. Her own coat was heaven knows where—probably left behind at the KTV.

She wasn’t cold, but a silk shirt clinging to her softened post-coital figure was something Qiao Zhiji found unacceptable.

The cigarette Qiao Zhiji had held to her lips was now between Yu Yusheng’s own fingers. She didn’t take another drag. A thin ribbon of blue smoke drifted between her and Qiao Zhiji.

When the car Qiao Zhiji had called pulled up, Yu Yusheng stubbed out the cigarette and got in.

They remained silent the entire ride.

After going upstairs, Yu Yusheng went to the kitchen and made herself a cup of honey water. It was too hot to drink. She stared at the steam curling from the rim, her mind consumed by a single thought: she had slept with Qiao Zhiji.

She returned to the bedroom and dug out her high school diary from the depths of her closet.

She sat on the carpet and flipped through a few pages. Her fingers carried the distinct scent of tobacco, as if the woman she was now were conversing with the girl she had been at eighteen.

The feelings recorded in the diary had been sealed away for years, yet now they seemed as vivid as ever.

She had slept with the person she had yearned for since she was eighteen.

Had Qiao Zhiji looked for her?

She stood up again and went to the bag she had tossed at the entryway to find her phone, only to discover it had died from a dead battery.

While the phone charged, she went to the kitchen and drank the honey water, then showered. She came out wearing a T-shirt and bare legs, and picked up the phone still tethered to its charging cable.

Qiao Zhiji hadn’t looked for her.

It was Zhuwei who had sent her two messages: 【Your brother’s case goes to trial in a week. Be there.】

Yu Yusheng: 【Why?】

Zhuwei replied: 【What do you mean, why? Do you have no feelings for the family that raised you?】

Yu Yusheng stood barefoot on the carpet, gazing down at the words on her phone screen.

It could never be said that this family had treated Yu Yusheng poorly.

From childhood onward, she had been given the finest material comforts.

An elite kindergarten. Equestrian lessons starting at age ten. Early proficiency in French and Spanish. An elite private school all the way through, but no plans to send her abroad, because a foreign degree could be a liability in certain circles.

She had grown up under Zhuwei’s watchful eye.

She knew very well that when she first sat at the piano, Zhuwei would remind her: “Don’t collapse your wrist.”

When she mounted a horse, Zhuwei would say: “Straighten your back.”

She remembered a Spanish speech competition. Zhuwei had invited her society friends to come watch. Yu Yusheng had an unexpected hives flare-up and performed terribly on stage, forgetting her lines. After she came off stage, Zhuwei draped an arm around her shoulder and laughed to her friends: “It’s the participation that counts.”

The friends smiled and agreed. After those aunties had left, Yu Yusheng looked up: “Mom…”

Zhuwei slapped her across the face.

Yu Yusheng’s thick hair fell along the sides of her face. She didn’t raise a hand to her cheek.

“You said…”

“That was for outsiders. You actually believed it?” Zhuwei’s voice was glacial. “This world has never been about participation. You have to be good enough to make everyone remember you, like you.”

Yu Yusheng remembered those words for many years.

She had to be good enough for anyone to like her. Even her parents operated on that principle.

The year she was eighteen, when Qiao Zhiji leaned down to kiss her—

Yu Yusheng said softly: “I’ve been staying up too late lately. I have a pimple on my temple.”

Qiao Zhiji: “So?”

Yu Yusheng stared blankly at Qiao Zhiji.

So the person she was today was a version of herself that wasn’t good enough.

But Qiao Zhiji kissed her anyway, without the slightest hesitation.

After their relationship was exposed, Zhuwei laughed coldly in fury and hurled an antique vase at Yu Yusheng.

The vase grazed past her ear and smashed against the wall, shattering into a floor of porcelain shards.

Yu Yusheng looked down at them. She couldn’t say why, but in that moment her heart was extraordinarily calm. She only looked and thought that she was like these broken shards—when she was good enough, she was a beautiful ornament in this family; when she wasn’t, they would rather she didn’t exist.

That confrontation had been fierce. Yu Yusheng went on a hunger strike for a long time.

What ultimately made her decide to let go was, besides the Yu family’s tactics against Qiao Zhiji, the words Zhuwei spoke sitting at her bedside to her near-collapse body: “Even if you stay with her, so what? Without the family you are nothing, and she is destined for greatness. Will she always love you? Is it more painful to let go now, or to be abandoned then?”

Yu Yusheng let go.

From then on, she began her rebellion against the family. She didn’t study diplomacy as her parents wished, didn’t become her eldest brother’s right-hand woman in developing the company. She studied jewelry design, made many friends, rarely went home. The kaleidoscopic lights of bars swept across her face as she watched the writhing crowd on the dance floor, her expression one of profound bewilderment.

She joined a jewelry design company—her parents didn’t stop her because someone this lacking in ambition would hardly pose a threat to Yu Yuce. Later she went to Spain, knowing it was where Qiao Zhiji had studied abroad.

She walked those streets, those little shops, then went to the coastline eroded by time to watch the sunset.

Did she dare to find Qiao Zhiji?

Yu Yusheng curled her fingers: she didn’t dare, because someone like her would always doubt she wasn’t good enough.

She didn’t want to become Qiao Zhiji’s burden.

As Yu Yusheng recalled these past events, the phone in her palm buzzed.

She had just added Qiao Zhiji on WeChat. Now Qiao Zhiji sent a message: 【Xiao Huli.】

The instant Yu Yusheng looked down and saw it, the message was recalled.

Just as Yu Yusheng thought that was the end of it, the phone buzzed again.

This time Qiao Zhiji sent: 【This time, don’t let go again, okay?】

Yu Yusheng released the phone and sank into the soft goose-down pillow. The pillow was so soft, soft enough to absorb every tear she had never dared to shed.

She held the phone in one hand, the other arm draped across her eyes.

Such a sentence, crossing all those elapsed years, crossing all that time they had been apart. And that time—could it still be recovered?

Cheng Xiang’s birthday was approaching.

She was helping Director Ma stack this winter’s stored cabbages, propping them one by one against the wall in the siheyuan, asking as she worked: “Mom, how’s your mood been lately?”

“What do you mean?” Director Ma handed her a cabbage.

“No menopause symptoms or anything, right?”

“Hey!” Director Ma planted both hands on her hips. “Are you saying I’m annoying?”

“No, no.” Cheng Xiang was trying to figure out when she should tell Director Ma about her and Tao Tianran.

She would be brave for Tao Tianran’s sake, but she was also afraid of getting scolded, and was wondering whether she should buy Director Ma some calming Chinese herbal medicine first.

Three days later was Cheng Xiang’s birthday. That day, Tao Tianran invited her to dinner at a Japanese restaurant near the company.

Now that they were together, Cheng Xiang had discovered that Tao Tianran could be a little particular.

For instance, when she was first pursuing Cheng Xiang, she’d made herself seem so fond of malatang—so easygoing, so approachable, as if she could eat street food with Cheng Xiang every day.

As time passed and her true nature emerged, Cheng Xiang realized she was actually quite picky. She could eat street food with Cheng Xiang, sure, but she also needed to go to those nice restaurants.

And when Cheng Xiang cooked at home, she was picky too—standing by the kitchen counter watching Cheng Xiang cook, staring as Cheng Xiang caramelized sugar for the ribs.

Cheng Xiang grumbled about her internally while smiling and walking to her office building.

She clasped her hands behind her back, waggling her fingertips. Picking up your girlfriend after work was pretty romantic, right? Hehe.

Tao Tianran had texted ahead that she had a meeting right before closing, so Cheng Xiang wasn’t in a hurry. She gazed at the Kunpu office building, thinking how different it was from her old office tower that reeked of green pepper and shredded pork—so grand.

Rumor had it that Yi Yu was coming back from Africa soon.

Just as Cheng Xiang’s thoughts were wandering, she spotted Yu Yusheng walking out of the building.

Normally, given her personality, she would definitely have gone up and greeted Yu Yusheng. But she truly didn’t know whether she had hipster phobia or what, but ever since that run, whenever she saw Yu Yusheng, her heart would thump faintly.

Never mind, never mind. She’d admire from afar.

Yu Yusheng was still wearing a silk shirt with wide-legged trousers, layered with a thin, long cashmere coat. She walked with a sway that was utterly alluring, growing more glamorous by the moment.

Cheng Xiang admired her from a distance for a while, then saw her pull open the door of a car by the curb.

Hmm? That didn’t look like Yu Yusheng’s own car?

Cheng Xiang was a little nosy, squinting at the windshield for a while.

After Yu Yusheng got into the passenger seat—oh my, the two of them suddenly started kissing! She couldn’t watch, she couldn’t watch. Cheng Xiang raised a hand to cover her eyes, but couldn’t help parting her fingers.

Sitting in the driver’s seat was Qiao Zhiji.

Beicheng’s winter was a somber gray. The mottled lights, like stars unable to pierce the thick fog, made the two kissing in the car seem all the softer. Qiao Zhiji’s fingers cradled Yu Yusheng’s cheek, her long hair falling down to intertwine with Yu Yusheng’s voluminous curls.

On an unnoticed corner of the street, something tender and beautiful was unfolding.

Cheng Xiang didn’t watch any more after that.

Not because she’d suddenly developed the morals to stop peeking, but because Qiao Zhiji’s car drove away.

Ah, left wanting more, left wanting more.

It was at that moment that someone snapped their fingers in front of Cheng Xiang.

Cheng Xiang snapped back to attention. “You’re off work?”

“What were you looking at?” Tao Tianran asked. She was wearing a black coat today, the front unbuttoned, standing elegant and clear in the twilight glow of the streetlamps.

“Hey, aren’t you cold?” Cheng Xiang reached up to pull her coat closed for her. There was a kind of cold called “Cheng Xiang thinks Tao Tianran is cold.” She really wanted to talk Tao Tianran into wearing long johns.

As they walked toward the Japanese restaurant, Cheng Xiang chattered: “Let me tell you, guess what I just saw?”

A very gossipy tone.

“I saw the great beauty Yu get into a car by the road. Guess who was in the car?”

“Qiao Zhiji.”

“You knew? Does your whole company know? Are they dating?”

“I’m not sure.”

“You’re pretty tight-lipped.” Cheng Xiang cast a sidelong glance at her. “Hey, actually, back at your company’s team-building sports day, when those two were paired up, I thought there was something there. But then I heard your colleagues say it was because President Qiao is the great beauty Yu’s big client—after all, back then everyone at your company was still shipping you and her as a couple, hmph.”

Tao Tianran reached up and slipped her hand into Cheng Xiang’s soft hair, giving her ear a little tweak.

“Why are your hands so cold? See, I told you you were cold.” Cheng Xiang naturally took Tao Tianran’s hand, lacing their fingers together and tucking them into Tao Tianran’s coat pocket. “See? I was right about those two. My keen instincts are pretty good, huh, hehe.”

“I just saw—” Cheng Xiang lowered her voice, adopting the tone of someone sitting at the village entrance cracking sunflower seeds and gossiping: “Don’t tell anyone at your company, okay? I saw the two of them kissing in the car, and wow, that was intense.”

“Mm.”

“What do you mean ‘mm’? I just think that when two women kiss, it’s really beautiful.” Cheng Xiang swung their hands inside Tao Tianran’s coat pocket.

“Why?”

“I can’t quite explain it. It just feels… beautiful.”

Perhaps because the world is rough and women are soft.

Perhaps because the sky is pale and gray and women are fresh and clear.

Perhaps because in this ever-changing world, women hold fast to their enduring devotion.

When they reached the Japanese restaurant, Cheng Xiang asked Tao Tianran: “What time is your reservation?”

“Seven thirty.”

“Then it’s about time, let’s go in.”

Tao Tianran suddenly grabbed Cheng Xiang’s wrist, pressing her back against a sheltered corner beneath the eaves.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“There are still five minutes before the reservation time.”

Tao Tianran didn’t kiss her directly. Her gaze first swept across Cheng Xiang’s dense lashes, then tapped lightly on the tip of her nose, skipped to the corner of her lips, and finally settled on Cheng Xiang’s full, prominent lip.

By the time Cheng Xiang’s ears began to burn, she kissed her, slow and gentle.

First she took Cheng Xiang’s lip between her own, ran her tongue across it once, then slowly slipped inside, unhurried.

Cheng Xiang kept her eyes half-open. Tao Tianran’s shirt collar carried a complex blend of fragrances, as if she had picked up all sorts of perfume scents in the conference room. They stood in a small Japanese wabi-sabi-style courtyard with low white walls, but beyond and behind Tao Tianran, the city’s high-rises glowed with the lights of ten thousand homes.

As if Tao Tianran had stepped out of a complicated world and walked toward her with utter simplicity.

Only toward her.

When Tao Tianran pulled away from her lips, Cheng Xiang looked down and pressed her own lips together.

Tao Tianran gave her chin a little squeeze and led her by the hand into the restaurant.

The server greeted them warmly, and Cheng Xiang glanced at Tao Tianran’s lips—still glistening from the kiss.

She suddenly spoke up: “Tao Tianran.”

Tao Tianran looked back.

“Do you want to go to the restroom first?”

Tao Tianran didn’t understand what she meant, but after a pause, she nodded and said okay.

The two of them walked together toward the restroom.

Under warm yellow light, the restroom was scented with aloeswood incense, like a damp forest after rain. Cheng Xiang leaned against the pristine glass vanity counter. Tao Tianran stood across from her.

She asked: “Didn’t you need to use the restroom?”

Cheng Xiang shook her head.

Her gaze settled on Tao Tianran’s collarbone for a moment, then traveled up to her lips. Glistening, carrying a certain fullness from the kiss just now.

A very inexplicable little impulse. She didn’t want this version of Tao Tianran to be seen by the world.

She wanted to hide away with this Tao Tianran in a little cave.

Tao Tianran didn’t press further, just stood there quietly beside her. Did Tao Tianran understand her somewhat foolish little impulse? She wasn’t sure. She reached out and gently pinched Tao Tianran’s fingertips.

Eyes lowered, her index finger, middle finger, ring finger, gently pinching along.

Tao Tianran watched the halo from the vanity mirror fall on her lashes, and called softly: “Xiao Xiang.”

“Mm?”

But Tao Tianran said nothing, just gave her hand a little swing.

She smiled, wrapping Tao Tianran’s slender fingers in her palm.

They went out and took their seats. Tao Tianran ordered a set menu.

Truth be told, Cheng Xiang was still a bit wary of eating Japanese food, given her last bout of gastroenteritis. But Tao Tianran liked it, and Cheng Xiang thought to herself that this time, no matter what, she absolutely could not get a takeout box.

While waiting for the food, Cheng Xiang suddenly went “Ah!”

Tao Tianran looked at her.

“Tao Tianran.” Cheng Xiang curled her knuckles and tapped the table twice. “I figured it out! Why you suddenly kissed me. Because I said the great beauty Yu and President Qiao kissed, right? You!”

“Your competitive spirit¹ kicked in!”

Cheng Xiang’s eyes went wide. So Tao Tianran had kissed her not because she wanted to kiss her, but because of her competitive spirit!

Tao Tianran’s lips curved.

Pfft. Cheng Xiang looked down, picked up her chopsticks and nudged the side dish in its Bizen ware ceramic dish, smiling too.

“Sorry to interrupt.”

A server approached with a booklet, speaking in a soft, gentle tone.

Oh, understood—a sales pitch. A newly opened restaurant wanting Tao Tianran, who looked like a major client at a glance, to sign up for a membership card.

Tao Tianran was indeed interested after seeing the restaurant’s decor, so she let the server continue. Cheng Xiang set down her chopsticks, her gaze sweeping past the condiment jar of wasabi on the table, when she heard the server say: “Both your own birthday and your partner’s birthday receive a ten percent discount on the day…”

Oho. At the word “birthday,” Cheng Xiang’s eyebrows gave a tiny lift.

She subtly felt the air on Tao Tianran’s side freeze for an instant as well.

But neither of them said a word, letting the oblivious server continue her pitch.

Cheng Xiang found it a little funny.

People who hadn’t been dating long were still growing familiar with each other, still carrying a certain freshness. Last time, on Tao Tianran’s birthday, they hadn’t been together yet. This time, Cheng Xiang’s birthday would be the first one they spent together.

Neither of them mentioned it, playing along. Yet both knew perfectly well that the other couldn’t possibly have forgotten the date.

Truly—romance mixed with a touch of comedy.

When the dishes arrived, Cheng Xiang ate and said to Tao Tianran: “Did you know your Big Boss is coming back to the country? You can’t slack off at work anymore.”

“You know more about my boss’s movements than I do now?”

Cheng Xiang laughed. “I have intel.”

According to Qin Ziqiao, Yi Yu’s return was set for two weeks from now.

After dinner, Cheng Xiang and Tao Tianran took a walk to help digest before heading back to the company. Tao Tianran went to the underground garage to get the car, and Cheng Xiang waited by the building.

She ran into one of Tao Tianran’s colleagues, who waved at her: “Hey, you came to find Teacher Tao?”

“Ah, hi hi hi.”

The girl laughed: “Could you tell Teacher Tao to go a little easier on us? I have a set of designs that just won’t pass—been stuck for two weeks.”

Uh, this… Cheng Xiang was usually quite talkative, but right now she felt especially awkward, not sure if the girl was being serious or joking.

“Ah, Teacher Tao’s car is here.” The girl waved at Cheng Xiang again with a smile: “Gotta run, bye.”

The Bentley slid to a stop by the curb, and Cheng Xiang pulled open the door and got in.

She asked: “Teacher Tao, are you really fierce at the company?”

Tao Tianran nodded: “Mm.”

“Pfft.” Cheng Xiang thought to herself that this woman sure admitted it readily. “Actually, sometimes you’re a little fierce with me too.”

“When?”

“Well, there are those times.”

Back at Tao Tianran’s apartment after showering, Tao Tianran had some work to handle. Cheng Xiang lay on her stomach on the bed wearing Tao Tianran’s shirt, playing a mobile game.

A post-apocalyptic theme—Qin Ziqiao had dragged her into it. But a glance at her friend list showed Qin Ziqiao wasn’t online tonight.

She was halfway through a quest when a call came in. Cheng Xiang checked—Qin Ziqiao.

“Hello?”

“Just letting you know, Yi Yu is back in the country. She brought you a Madagascar hoopoe doll. Come pick it up at my place whenever you’re free, or I can bring it to you.”

“Ah?” Cheng Xiang sat up at once. “She came back early?”

“Mm.”

“So how are you two doing?” Cheng Xiang tried hard to suppress her gossip-hungry tone.

“Same as always.” Qin Ziqiao said vaguely. “Let’s talk when I’m free another day. I’m hanging up.”

She looked back. Yi Yu was leaning against her headboard, not a stitch on, somehow not tanned at all despite being in Africa for so long, lazily toying with the Madagascar hoopoe doll she’d brought back.

One hand pressed against her lower abdomen, she said in a thread of a voice: “I think I’m empty. I need to replenish. I want scallion scrambled eggs.”

“Okay, hold on.” Qin Ziqiao replied, walked to the living room, and opened her laptop.