51. Yun Hu Bu Xi
"We broke up a long time ago."
I heard it, of course I heard it. How could I not have heard it? What good would it do to hear it? I'm already leaving, isn't it? Life isn't a romance novel where the perfect hero swoops in and solves everything. Life isn't a chick flick where, at the end, captivating background music plays and the two of them, no matter how much love and hate they've had, they'll be happily ever after.
Vivian didn't know how to respond, so she simply followed him into the rapidly darkening snowy night. They walked side by side, and seeing her shivering from the cold, he naturally reached out and put his arm around her shoulders. The short distance of a hundred or two hundred meters seemed to take forever. Neither of them spoke, and it didn't matter that it was so quiet.
The words of her favorite Yang Naiwen echoed in her mind: "I loved you when there was wind and rain, and I love myself when the rain stopped." The words were so appropriate at this moment.
But the song is called "I Leave Myself".
I'm not leaving anyone, I'm leaving myself.
The entrance was dark. Before she could turn on the light, she put the flowers aside and said to him, "Come in."
The lamp lit up, its warm yellow light instantly bringing people back to life. He took off his coat, revealing a thin black fleece sweater underneath. She smiled, pointing at him and then at herself: "The Black and White Devils."
In the dead of winter in the north, returning home from the outdoors always requires detaching a thick layer of clothing from head to toe. By the time she had taken off her hat, scarf, and coat, she was even a little out of breath. He looked at her messy bun and couldn't help but tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
His cold fingers touched her hot earlobe. He stopped but did not put his hand down, with a strange expression on his face.
She knew what he meant and explained, "When the nerve endings are frozen, the capillaries expand, the blood flow increases, and it becomes very hot." He knew she was talking nonsense on purpose to try to cover up the slight embarrassment at the moment, but he refused to do so, so his hand gently slid over her ear and stopped at her neck.
She didn't dodge, but tilted her head, rubbed her cheek lightly in his palm, and said softly: "Close the door, please. We are not dogs and bitches anymore, why are you acting like you are having an affair?"
He took a step forward, and they embraced in a familiar, gentle hug. A friendship hug, though she naturally wrapped her arms around his neck and tilted her head so that it rested against his chin. Given their height difference, this was the most appropriate position.
They stayed in silence for a while, and she asked, "Are you secretly smelling my hair?"
"Why do you ask?" Her hair had that familiar citrus scent.
In "Friends," Monica once dated a billionaire who was into boxing. After they broke up, the billionaire lied about not having feelings for her anymore in order to remain friends. As they hugged as friends, Monica asked, "Are you smelling my hair?"
Like small animals, being unable to recognize each other's scent is proof that the friendship cannot last.
She was also quietly smelling the indescribable scent on him.
"Fucking fabulous," she whispered.
"Is it a curse word or a compliment?"
"The smell of your perfume." It was a strange smell mixed with leather and flowers that smelled a bit pungent on its own, but when sprayed on the body it was extremely sexy, even a little coquettish.
“You can smell it.”
"I did." She didn't appreciate the taste when she bought it, it was just to express how fucking fabulous that person was to her.
As soon as the words left his mouth, they both fell silent. This is the downside of being over thirty. You've experienced everything, done everything with everyone else. Where can you find that one-of-a-kind feeling, that one-point-of-love, that eternal love, that unwavering loyalty?
The lights came on, a movie played in the background. She was in the kitchen, and he stood by, helping pass plates and bowls around, chatting casually. Outside, the snow fell softly, and inside, there were sounds of music and fragrance.
"How about ordering takeout?" She said a little embarrassedly, "Actually, I really can't cook. If I say I can, I'm just pretending."
"No takeout. You can just make some instant noodles."
"That's not the case. It's just that when I cook, I just stir-fry all the ingredients I want to eat together."
"Anyway, when digested, it will all turn into amino acids."
The two sat down opposite each other, and Vivian opened a bottle of wine: "I don't know much about wine, I bought it blindly, please forgive me."
"I don't understand either. Isn't it enough to get drunk?"
"You don't seem to understand."
"Same here."
Same here. Back then, they all pretended to know everything. Wine, champagne, whiskey—even if they had no interest, they always spoke with eloquence. Skiing, diving, golf—they always had to get into it before giving it a try, so they wouldn't be afraid to talk about it with others, wouldn't appear shy. Layer upon layer, countless labels, they all thought they could stand out, but they all became blurred. When they met, they were pretending to be pretending, but due to various coincidences, the fake became real. The soul had already been exposed, leaving the body to struggle.
She was about to fly far away, so she naturally had to pack light. She didn't want to complicate her life, which had been so hard to let go.
"Have you really thought it through? Once you get there, you won't be able to wear any revealing clothes anymore."
"I've never been much of a show-off, unlike you."
He raised his chin, and Vivian glared at him, pressing her hands to her chest, even though it was just a slightly low-necked sweater.
"You're in an unfamiliar environment, and you're a girl, so be careful."
"It doesn't matter. I have a heart of steel and I'm not afraid of anything." She didn't drink much, but she seemed half drunk and suddenly full of passion.
"Hey, Mr. Fang, wake up."
"Speaking."
Seeing her hair was fluffy, her eyes were red and sparkling under the light, and her whole body was extremely excited, as if she was already drunk. He reached out to test the temperature of her forehead and whispered, "Actually, you don't have to go that far."
At this moment, a thought suddenly popped up in his mind: I don’t believe you have never liked me.
She seemed to see through his thoughts: "No, there is no construction without destruction. It won't work if you don't go far."
He pointed at himself.
“No.”
"Why?" he asked with a strange despair.
"Don't you think that we are having a warm and happy time just like now, eating some snacks and drinking some wine? But you know you are not satisfied. And neither am I."
"You and I...are not completely without anything."
"You're just feeling extra sad because we're about to part, but that's all." Vivian held out her left hand, her thumb and index finger slightly apart. "A golden fish shouldn't stay in a pond. Once it encounters wind and clouds, it transforms into a dragon. Neither of us is the type to live on wind and dew for love."
"Hey, isn't this the title of a famous pornographic novel? How did you know that?"
She glared at him but couldn't help laughing.
Each of them had their own concerns, yet they both hoped this conversation would linger on. Wouldn't it be wonderful if this moment could last forever? But the sun will rise, the snow will stop, the movie will end, and the music will fade. People, too, must say goodbye. The only person we can rely on is ourselves. If we give up in a moment of weakness, we'll truly be left with nothing.
It's not that she wasn't passionate in the first half of her life, but trusting a man 100% was enough to make her suffer once.
She stood up and walked into the kitchen, changing the subject: "It's customary in my family to eat dumplings on any holiday. It's the same for New Year's Day, birthdays, and even more so for farewells. But I don't know how to make the filling, so let's just make do with some frozen wontons today. Don't think it's perfunctory."
In a few minutes, she brought out a steaming bowl of food, which was a hot and fragrant mixture of seaweed, dried shrimp and sesame oil.
His expression was extremely solemn. He pulled her to his side, spread out her hands, and buried his face in her hands.
She was a little surprised and gently stroked his temples with her thumb: "It's just a small favor, why are you acting like a spoiled child like this?"
He refused to let her go, pulling her closer. He sat down, she still standing, and he put his arm around her waist, resting his cheek against her chest. She reached out and stroked his hair and face.
Vivian felt incredibly disappointed. Even if she wasn't leaving, it was easy to disappear without seeing someone she didn't specifically want to see. Furthermore, their lives had never intersected. It was because she had never lowered her expectations that that small bit of fate had lasted until now. But now that they were apart, it was highly likely they would never see each other again.
But when we're together physically, the happiness is real too. The mind can analyze things calmly, but the body can't deceive itself. The closer we get, the more our hearts and minds can't help but stir, as if drawn together by a magnetic force. We don't necessarily have to do anything, but we just want to get closer, closer, closer. It's as if the other person exudes a scent that even the world's finest perfumer can't conjure. It's the animal brain that even the calmest heart can't overcome.
The sky is dark with wind and rain, and the cocks are crowing incessantly. Seeing a gentleman, how can I not be delighted?
The Chinese language is truly magnificent. In the pre-Qin period, an unknown woman met her lover, her joy unspeakable, indescribable, and she could only sing. Thousands of years later, a high-heeled urban woman, simply reading these sixteen words, needs no explanation or translation, and can instantly travel back through time, comprehending endless beauty and sorrow. Even amidst raging storms, a shaky world, and even nuclear war, can this moment last forever?
After a long pause, she shook him: "The soup is getting cold."
He refused to get up, muttering to himself, "When I was little, I'd come home from school before dinner time. I don't know why, but I'd be hungry all day long, so my mom would make me a bowl of soup like this."
Vivian listened to him in silence.
"I quickly grew up and no one allowed me to be so willful anymore. Some people were nice to me, but it wasn't unconditional."
"In the adult world, there's no such thing as unconditional love. Everyone is the same, so don't be sad."
"What about you?"
"It's just your body that I like." She stroked his stubble.
///
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
