The night scenery slid past the taxi window.
Lin An hailed a cab, but the driver hesitated at Su Yuejin’s soaked clothes. Lin An offered five times the fare. After a pause, the driver reluctantly agreed.
They sat in the backseat. Su Yuejin leaned against Lin An in the most comfortable pose she could manage, eyes half-lidded. The dim cabin light didn’t reach her gaze.
“Why did you lie to me?” Her voice came in fragments.
“I thought lying might snap you out of it.”
Lin An didn’t say *You lied too*—that would’ve sounded lame. Su Yuejin sat up slightly, wrapped both arms around his neck, turning his face toward hers. “I drank a lot… all alone.”
“Then you’re impressive.”
“Why did you come… why did you come… and after coming, why didn’t you find me?”
Lin An fell silent—her words left no reply. She leaned in to kiss him. He dodged once, but she persisted. Finally, he stopped avoiding her, lowered his head, and kissed her until she was breathless, cheeks flushed.
She surged forward again, eyes closed, kissing him relentlessly. Lin An indulged her, kissing her all the way until the taxi reached their building. He helped her out.
Her knees were scraped; dirty water clung to her skin, sticky and cold. Lin An wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her upstairs. After the elevator doors opened, he unlocked the door.
He flipped the light switch. Under the glow, her skin looked porcelain-white. Her modest white dress revealed nothing—until she turned, asking him to unzip the back.
His movements were gentle. The dress slipped down, leaving only pure white lace-trimmed underwear. She grasped his hand. “I need a bath.”
“But I have no strength,” she murmured.
He understood. In the bathroom, he filled the large tub, adjusted the water temperature. Su Yuejin sat quietly on a small stool, waiting.
When the tub was full, she reached out and hugged his neck. He lifted her carefully into the water.
The water was clear. His eyes held no heat. Towel in hand, he gently wiped away every trace of grime.
She became a quiet doll in his care—washed, tended, until spotless. Warm water brushed her scraped knee, tingling faintly.
After drying her under the shower, testing the temperature, washing her hair, he patted her dry with a soft towel.
“Sit here. I’ll get your nightgown—don’t catch a chill,” he whispered near her ear. She sat docile as a little rabbit, watching him leave.
He returned with a black nightgown from her closet, helped her into it. She sat obediently while he dried her hair. Then he knelt, examining her knee.
The wound wasn’t serious. He asked about supplies, found a bottle of antiseptic, paused—*Not exactly a household staple…*
He disinfected it with a cotton swab, wrapped it with a disposable towel. Suddenly, she hugged his neck, nuzzling his cheek. “Why aren’t you moved?”
“Someone I knew loved doing this—called it ‘fan service.’ Let you look, touch… never more. You get used to it,” Lin An muttered.
“Who?”
“The one I like,” he replied calmly. He asked if she had strength left. She shook her head. He carried her to the bedroom, settled her on the bed.
He sat beside her, then gently lifted her arm. “What have you been hiding?”
She tried to pull away, but he held firm. Beneath her shoulder, a long scar ran down her arm—unpretty, deliberate.
“I did it when bored.”
A scar placed where only she could see. Deep, healed long ago. Yet Lin An sensed… it wasn’t that simple.
“Only here?”
“Only here.” She met his gaze earnestly. “I love being pretty… so only here. When I felt better, I’d cut again. Ugly, right?”
“It’s not pretty,” he said, releasing her wrist. He watched her—pale face, red-rimmed eyes from recent tears.
Silence settled. He drew the curtain, watching raindrops. “Are you still sad?”
“I don’t want your pity,” she murmured, turning away.
“I’m not pitying you. I just… don’t want to see you like this. Be kinder to yourself, Su Yuejin.”
“Do you care?”
“Yes.”
“Then… hold me.”
He turned. She sat up, hugging him. He wrapped an arm around her back, stroking her hair as rain pattered softly outside.
“How did you come, Lin An?”
“I couldn’t rest. Had nowhere else to go.”
She gazed at him—then he kissed her. A smile touched her lips. She pressed his hand to her chest.
After the kiss, he looked into her eyes. “I like someone else, Su Yuejin.”
He’d just kissed her, yet spoke plainly: “So I can’t like you. Just as your feelings for me… are snow atop a volcano. They’ll melt.”
She didn’t loosen her hold. “I like you. Believe it or not—it hasn’t melted yet. That’s all.”
“Think: if I hadn’t come tonight… would you remember me tomorrow?”
She shook her head—not denial, but refusal. “But you *came*, Lin An. You came… hehe.”
“You came. Don’t talk reason anymore. *You* said liking is irrational. I like you now—don’t say otherwise, or I’ll get mad.”
Lin An fell silent.
“Besides me… how many women?” she whispered against his ear.
“One.”
“Who?”
“I won’t tell you.”
She hugged him from behind, voice sweet. “Then remember—I’m the second. Remember my scent, my tenderness.”
“Last time was blurry. Let’s do it again. Remember *this* time.”
Lin An lay beside her—but only held her, gazing at her sparkling eyes. “I won’t love you, Su Yuejin.”
“Then you’ll never forget me. No matter your choice… you’ll remember me. I’ll make sure of it.”
Frenzied devotion swirled in her eyes.
“Who is she? The girl who called? Or Luo Shuishui?”
“I won’t say.”
“Compared to her… how much space do I take?”
“One-tenth.”
“When you’re with me?”
“One-third.”
“I like your honesty,” she murmured, tracing the bite mark on his arm. “Does it hurt?”
“Not much anymore.”
She lifted his arm, lips brushing the mark. He braced for another bite—but she only licked it gently, like a puppy.
Xu Qinghuan couldn’t sleep.
She mixed two drinks from Lin An’s stored spirits, cradling the glass by the bed, watching rain patter on the balcony. She didn’t know what she waited for.
Past 3 a.m., drowsy, barefoot, she washed the glasses, lay down, fingertips lightly tracing her skin.
Lin An didn’t return. Her phone vibrated. *Only one person would message now.*
She unlocked it. Not *Open the door.*
His text: *At Su Yuejin’s. She’s asleep. I didn’t touch her.*
She replied: *Okay.*
*Sleeping now.*
*Xu Qinghuan… I finally understand you. Why you did this. Let’s keep torturing each other.*
*I love you.*
Her fingers trembled. *Mm. Me too.*
She set the phone down, pulled the blanket close, closed her eyes.
Rain whispered outside. She wondered: *Did he lie? Truly just at her place—no bed, no kiss, no love?*
*Liars swallow a thousand needles.*
