Chapter 23 An addictive, out-of-control taste…
Jiang Shiyan was certainly not that beastly; he bought this thing and would use it tonight.
He just felt that this was something men should be responsible for and plan ahead for.
The concrete wall that once separated them seemed to have melted away overnight, becoming as light as a sheet of paper, yet still unbroken.
Let nature take its course.
The elevator ascended at a moderate speed, and the metal walls inside the cabin gleamed coldly.
Xu Yuewei leaned against the corner behind her, while Jiang Shiyan stood next to the button, forming a diagonal line, the furthest distance between them.
But he held her things loosely in his hand; the silk flowers that Grandma made had, after many twists and turns, become hostages once again.
The elevator arrived at the floor, the doors on both sides opened, the lights outside were on, there was no corridor, only the door of one apartment facing the elevator.
The common area is a narrow strip of land. There is a small window on the wall at the far left, and a pot of green grass with an unknown name is placed underneath. A mountain bike is parked on the right.
There was a rug at the middle doorway, and a shoe cabinet next to it; there were no other miscellaneous items.
Jiang Shiyan unlocked the shoe cabinet with his fingerprint and found a pair of men's slippers for her.
To be precise, they are cotton slippers.
Xu Yuewei politely declined, saying, "It's not that cold yet."
Jiang Shiyan dropped his slippers and landed them firmly and accurately on the ground in front of her.
He gently touched her fingers: "Your hands are so cold, aren't your feet cold too?"
Xu Yuewei pulled her hand back as if she had been electrocuted, curled her thumb into her palm, and began to rub the callus with her index and middle fingers.
She gently kicked off her slippers, feigning disgust, and said, "They're all covered in dust."
She won't wear it.
Jiang Shiyan put the slippers back: "Okay, then don't change them. Boots will keep you warmer."
He opened the door, turned on the entryway light, and invited her to come in first.
Xu Yuewei slowly walked in, supporting herself against the wall. Her hand trembled slightly as she reached out to find the light switch for the living room.
It was as if she had been led into a tiger's den, not knowing whether it contained enough food to last through the winter or the corpses of her own kind. The mystery was right in front of her, but she dared not open her eyes.
Jiang Shiyan reached out and covered her palm with his.
In the dim light, he said, "No one will see us. What are you afraid of?"
Then, holding her hand down, he turned on the light.
Xu Yuewei opened her eyelids again. After the sudden stimulation of the bright light, she looked around the whole room.
The classic and minimalist black, white, and gray style, with black and gray as the main colors and white as an accent, is dark but not black, like floating in a dark cloud.
The house was as clean as a showroom, with little storage space; it was mostly empty.
Only traces of a single man's life remain.
Her heart fluttered uncontrollably.
Jiang Shiyan closed the door behind him, took her wrist and led her inside, turned on the light, and then pressed her down onto the sofa.
His eyes were calm and still, as if all the underlying emotions had been stripped away, and whatever emotions she had in her eyes would be reflected in them exactly.
Xu Yuewei suddenly recalled the last time she saw him.
On the night she returned from the film set, he cornered her in his car. The air seemed to be filled with his hatred, chilling her to the bone, and she couldn't bear to leave him.
Now, the usually impeccably dressed man's clothes were asymmetrically open, the hem hanging to the ground. Far from being aggressive, she saw a hint of appreciation in his eyes.
Looking down at him, she noticed that the creases of his eyelids at the corners of his eyes were deep and beautiful.
"Are you still drunk? If you're sober, let's talk."
Xu Yuewei shook her head: "Still drunk."
Jiang Shiyan went to the kitchen, and somewhat awkwardly found the honey based on his memory. He warmed the boiled water in the thermos, made a cup of honey water, and came back.
Then I moved the trash can to her feet in case she felt like throwing up but didn't have time to run to the toilet, although based on experience, she probably wouldn't throw up again.
Having done all this, Jiang Shiyan sat down directly on the coffee table in front of her.
He slightly parted his legs, trapping her legs between them, making her appear even thinner, as if she were malnourished.
Feeling a little irritated, he unconsciously closed his legs, almost touching her.
Xu Yuewei reacted quickly, kicking off her slippers, lifting her legs, and hugging them with both hands, creating a small territory for herself on the sofa.
Like a fish tail, it flicked away from his palm and slipped away; he could never catch it.
Xu Yuewei didn't know if she was still drunk, but the fact that she was aware of whether she was drunk or not meant that she was still relatively sober.
Right now, what she wants to do most is to confirm that matter.
"you……"
She was stunned after sending just one byte.
The indoor air conditioning was not yet turned on, and the room temperature was not high. Steam rose from the water glass that Jiang Shiyan had placed to the side.
The ceramic cup looked very familiar; it was a gift she had made for him before, a gift that wasn't really a gift.
They had a fight on the day they were making pottery. Years have passed, and they can no longer remember the reason. They only remember that she had a bad intention and deliberately painted the cup completely black, making it impossible for anyone to have the desire to drink water from it.
Before putting it in the oven to bake, she softened a bit and drew a few white clouds on it, but the result was even more bizarre.
Jiang Shiyan actually liked it quite a bit. He used the black cup to hold his cola and even took a picture and sent it to her: "See? A black cat is curled up in there purring. Glug glug."
Tiny bubbles rose to the surface of the cola, dispelling her anger.
She replied: "Then it's sleeping very soundly."
Jiang Shiyan: [Yeah, should this kitten learn from it and go to bed early tonight?]
At that time, they used a pair of cartoon cat couple profile pictures, and they talked like little animals.
Xu Yuewei stared at the cup; she was completely sober without even needing to drink the honey water.
Such a peculiar cup would inevitably inquire about its origins, no matter who saw it. Jiang Shiyan disliked lying, and she trusted he would tell the truth if the next person asked.
So if he gets a new girlfriend, the probability of that cup still being used is very low.
The question, "Are you and Meng Jiao really together?" was like a nail with only the tip driven in. He hammered it in the car, then again when I stepped into his room, and finally, this mug was the last thing he did.
The answer is no.
Xu Yuewei ran her fingers through her hair, kissed her knee, and locked herself up like a lock.
She wanted to yell, or cough violently, or smash the cup, or immediately refuse to accept the package containing the penguin graffiti...
It hurts so much.
The pain lies in the glimmer of happiness that sprouts within that pain.
Is she feeling fortunate? What right does she have to feel that way?
She imagined herself as a cotton doll, able to cut open her belly, take out all the cotton, and replace it with new cotton, thus becoming a new person with no connection to the past.
She pressed her fingertips firmly against her scalp, her eyes stinging, as if that would suppress all the discomfort.
After a while, she heard the soft sound of a spoon tapping against the ceramic, accompanied by rhythmic blowing. It wasn't hard to imagine that he was blowing on the glass of water to cool it down for her.
Jiang Shiyan took a long breath; she knew he always had excellent lung capacity.
Time seemed to be stretched out by him.
"The temperature should be fine now."
The next second, she felt a warm, hard object touch the back of her hand—it was a mug.
Xu Yuewei tried to relax her body, her chin gradually moving away from her neck. She slowly looked up at him, her eyes tired and confused.
Jiang Shiyan's hand, which was holding the cup, was originally suspended in the air, but when their eyes met, it slowly lowered back to the table next to him.
With a bang, like the first sound of an auctioneer's gavel falling.
The man frowned slightly, cupped her cheek with one hand, and felt an irresistible warmth.
"It's safe here."
"……I know."
"Then why did you cry?"
Xu Yuewei raised her hand to touch her face, pulled at her skin, and tears welled up in her eyes and rolled down her cheeks.
This isn't crying at all; it's just shedding tears.
"Afraid of cheating on me?"
He asked again, then lowered his head and leaned closer, stopping just before his forehead touched hers.
The strands of hair on their foreheads touched each other almost imperceptibly, mimicking their breathing.
The second strike of the auction gavel was delayed.
Xu Yuewei tried to lean back and shrink into the sofa, but his hand, which was supporting her cheek, wandered freely, his fingers digging into her hair, growing into lush, leafy roots at the back of her head, tightly binding her.
Xu Yuewei could only hide the panic in her eyes by lowering her gaze and not looking at him.
When the fish got tired of swimming, it took a short rest among the coral. The coral then removed its camouflage, revealing itself to be an octopus that had formed a net from all sides.
Only this small space beneath my feet...
His shadow is also present.
She is a black cat trapped in a black mug.
A voice in her head told her this.
Like a safety latch suddenly being pulled out, she melted into a puddle of water, or softened into a cat that sleeps forever, whatever shape she took... it seemed he could hold her up.
The gavel fell for the second time.
Xu Yuewei finally raised her head, resting her head on his hand, and with a breath, asked him:
"You're not with Meng Jiao, right?"
In their eye contact, she saw tacit agreement in his eyes.
Xu Yuewei suddenly smiled with a hint of sarcasm:
"But you asked me to be her hand double, weren't you just trying to embarrass me?"
Ultimately, our gaze returned to the mug with the "sleeping black cat" design.
She asked, "I don't understand, do you hate me, or do you still like me a little?"
He said, "Can't you tell?"
Jiang Shiyan withdrew his right hand to her cheek, and his other left hand, which was poised to strike, also came up. He was a little excited, stiff from the base of his fingers to the fingertips, but as gently as if touching a ball of cotton candy.
His Adam's apple bobbed, and unable to hold back any longer, he whispered against her lips:
"There's no difference at all."
Thump. The third strike of the gavel.
Xu Yuewei's legs swung off the edge of the sofa, her hands clenched into fists on her knees.
She closed her eyes.
Like the first snowfall after a long autumn, even though it wasn't their first time seeing snow, they still felt a sense of wonder. They each made a snowball and threw it at each other, then melted it together, tirelessly and happily doing it.
Jiang Shiyan's right hand slid into her hair again, pushing her to fall sideways onto the sofa.
A minute later, Jiang Shiyan suddenly felt a sharp pain on her lips. She released her, the silver thread broke, and her reason returned.
He propped himself up with his hands, flustered, his feet hitting the coffee table. He bit his lip, but all he tasted was an addictive, out-of-control flavor.
He was no longer a naive young man. He composed himself, a blush rising to his ears, and stared at her intently, as if asking if he had won the prize.
Xu Yuewei remained lying on the sofa, her eyes and lips glistening with tears, yet she held a calm gaze, watching him as if observing from the sidelines.
Jiang Shiyan's heart sank, and all the wild energy he had shown in the car vanished.
He gently touched her lips again, their foreheads pressed together, and he whispered, "When you wake up, will you still remember tonight?"
She said, "I don't know."
Jiang Shiyan felt his heart soar to the clouds and plummet to the depths of despair. He lowered his eyes to conceal his turmoil, stepped back, and set her free.
"...Let me make your bed first."
After he left, Xu Yuewei blinked, and tears slid down her cheeks.
That wasn't really crying.
Now, he has made her nose turn red, her eyelashes glisten with tears when she blinks, and her throat feel so sticky that she can't speak.
That's what crying is all about.
Xu Yuewei lay on her back for a while, and only sat up, holding onto the edge of the sofa, after hearing Jiang Shiyan say that the bed was ready.
Her shoe kicked something, and when she looked down, she was startled.
A pink box with a shocking sign and numbers on it.
It turned out to be a box of condoms.
She sobered up instantly.
A burning sensation, almost painful, rose in Xu Yuewei's ears and neck. She sat there, staring intently, trying to see right through it.
Hearing the man's footsteps approaching, she bit her lip and quietly kicked it under the sofa.
She saw nothing.
Nothing happened during that long night.
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Author's Note: The downside of going shallow is that you work for nothing all night [droopy-eared rabbit head]
Asking for some nutrient solution for this chapter isn't too much to ask, right? Please, gentlemen! [starry-eyed]
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