romantic dinner
Wen Lingyi's reply popped up, a crisp "OK".
Zhou Jianxing stared at the word, her heart beating happily, the blood pumping out with hot anticipation, washing over her fingertips until they numbed.
Throughout the afternoon, time seemed to be wrapped in sticky syrup and crawled slowly.
The handwriting on the work order became blurred, and the cold touch of the wrench could not suppress the restlessness under the skin.
Finally, it was time to punch out and my colleagues filed out, and the chaotic footsteps faded away.
Zhou Jianxing slipped into the bathroom like a thief. The cubicle door felt cold against her back. She shook open her white skirt, and the feel of the fabric rubbing against her skin made her shiver slightly.
The face in the mirror was a little mottled because the sweat from work caused the makeup to come off. She picked up the powder and clumsily repaired it.
Dark brown eyeliner was redrawn across the eyelids, a little shaky. Tomato red lip gloss was applied, and the lips in the mirror looked overly full, like ripe fruit waiting to be bitten.
As she walked out of the company gate, the evening breeze blew against her face, carrying the heat of exhaust fumes. She waved to stop a car, and the hem of her white skirt was caught in the moment the door closed. Her heart was pounding in her chest.
·
The restaurant is on the 17th floor.
Outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, the cityscape of City C, just beginning to light up, a river of light flowing through the concrete jungle. She chose a seat by the window, her fingers twirling the hem of her skirt above her knees. She sat down. She waited.
Every second felt stretched and twisted. My mind was a jumble of questions: What should I talk about? The weather? Work? Or… should I just tell her I wore a new dress just for the occasion? My throat was dry.
It felt like a butterfly was flapping its wings in my heart, stirring up an air of anxiety.
The sound of high heels hitting the marble floor came from far away, with a crisp and hearty rhythm. Zhou Jianxing looked up suddenly.
Wen Lingyi stood by the table.
She wore a burgundy slip dress, like a handful of solidified crimson wine, tightly wrapped around her dangerously mature body. A pearl necklace hung loosely around her snow-white neck, and within the deep shadow of her collarbone lay a temptation that Zhou Jianxing dared not gaze upon.
Zhou Jianxing felt his breathing stagnate for a moment, and the blood rushed to his head, then quickly receded, leaving behind a cold tinnitus.
She quickly lowered her eyes, her gaze fixed on the white cloth on her knees.
Wen Lingyi gracefully sat down across from her. The air instantly filled with an expensive, cold fragrance, mixed with the scent of food spices, making Zhou Jianxing feel a little suffocated.
She could feel that gaze, with its scrutinizing warmth, roaming over her face like a searchlight.
From the round, bright eyes magnified by brown eyeliner, to the defined lashes, to the tomato-red, glossy lips.
"What's wrong? Is there... something on my face?" Zhou Jianxing's voice trembled a little, and his fingers unconsciously fiddled with the chestnut curly hair hanging on his shoulders. The ends of his hair had the cheap sweet scent of shampoo.
She wondered if she had dressed a little too much today.
"No." Wen Lingyi's voice was filled with a lazy smile.
A cool hand reached out, its fingertips gently brushing her cheek. Zhou Jianxing's body tensed instantly.
"I just think... you are very beautiful today." His voice became a little hoarse.
Wen Lingyi's fingertips lingered on her skin, a hint of lingering: "I like it very much. In the future... dress like this more often, okay?"
Like, later. She hummed a low “hmm” and pushed the menu over.
The ordering process was quick. Wen Lingyi's fingers were slender and her nails were a perfect nude pink as she flipped through the menu.
She casually brought up the topic, "Why...are you still afraid of thunder? I heard that during the thunderstorm in July, the transformer in the community broke down, and you climbed up there overnight to fix it?"
There was a hint of playful inquiry in his tone.
Is Zhou Jianxing really afraid of thunder, or did he deliberately seduce her that night?
·
Zhou Jianxing was stunned for a moment, remembering that stormy night.
The rain lashed her face like a whip, mixed with the salty bitterness of tears. The wall was slippery, and her legs trembled like sieves as she pressed against it. Thunder rumbled above her head, and the cold metal pressed against her palms, each lightning bolt threatening to split her heart.
She swallowed and said, "Well... because there's an elderly person in that building who needs a ventilator, and the power can't be cut off."
Wen Lingyi picked up a piece of golden curry crab meat and placed it in Zhou Jianxing's bowl. Her eyes fell on Zhou Jianxing's hands, whose knuckles were slightly thick from years of holding tools, and then slid down to her drooping eyebrows, which were a little clumsy and gentle.
"This one is delicious too, try it." Her voice softened unconsciously. "Are you stupid? You're willing to give up your life for others." There was some anger in her tone.
Zhou Jianxing lowered his head and poked the expensive crab meat in the bowl with a spoon. The bowl was almost piled into a small mountain by Wen Lingyi.
The rich aroma of spices penetrated my nose. The recommendation of "Seal the Heart and Lock Love" was right. The food here is indeed delicious.
"Mr. Wen," she mustered up her courage and asked in a voice as soft as a mosquito's hum, "How old are you...this year?" She regretted asking and her cheeks started burning.
Like a primary school student checking his household registration.
Wen Lingyi took a light bite of the shrimp ball, and a little sauce stained her plump lips.
"Don't call me Mr. Wen," she swallowed her food slowly, "it's strange. Just call me... Mrs. Wen."
"I don't want to call you that!" Zhou Jianxing gently put down the spoon, and the metal made a crisp sound when it hit the bone china plate.
A wave of grievance surged up, blocking her throat and making her eyes ache. This name was...too embarrassing for her.
"But I am indeed Mrs. Wen." Wen Lingyi looked at her eyes which were beginning to turn red again, a hint of interest flashing in her eyes, as if she was teasing a small animal in her palm, "If it's really not possible...call me sister?"
"I don't want to call you sister..." Zhou Jianxing's voice became even lower, almost buried in his chest, "...It's very strange."
Wen Lingyi almost laughed out loud. Weird? Why didn't she find it strange when Feng Xin Suo Ai kept calling her "sister"? The little fool's sense of morality was so strong that it was a bit pedantic.
"Then... Sister Wen?" Wen Lingyi reached out and pinched Zhou Jianxing's hot cheek with a hint of mischief.
The touch is delicate and soft, making people unable to put it down.
Zhou Jianxing said nothing, but lowered her head even lower. She still wanted to call her "Lingyi".
Only that name could make her feel that there wasn't so much distance between them.
When the meal was almost over, Wen Lingyi stood up and used the excuse of going to the restroom. She walked to the cashier, holding the cold black card between her fingers.
"The lady in the white dress just now has already gotten married." The receptionist smiled politely.
"How many?"
"Including service charge, one thousand and ninety-eight yuan."
Wen Lingyi's fingertips paused. One thousand and ninety-eight.
She suddenly remembered the worn wrenches in Zhou Jianxing's toolbox, and the dusty knees of her overalls from climbing a ladder to change a lightbulb. The sour and spicy taste of Thai food suddenly started to rise in her stomach.
·
Wen Lingyi returned to her seat and leaned forward slightly, her red lips close to Zhou Jianxing's earlobe, her warm breath tempting: "Tonight... do you want to come to my place?"
Zhou Jianxing's face suddenly turned red, like a cooked shrimp.
She shook her head quickly, her voice as thin as a mosquito: "No... No, I live with my parents... If I don't go back at night, they will worry..."
"Oh?" Wen Lingyi's tone was drawn out, with a hint of disappointment.
In fact, this was also within her expectations. If it hadn't been for that thunderstorm last time, Zhou Jianxing, a good boy, wouldn't have...
Under the table, the toes of expensive high heels gently rubbed Zhou Jianxing's calf skin exposed outside the skirt with a bad temptation.
"You really don't want to go? Little Star...don't you...just don't like it?"
The touch of the cold shoe tip brought a weak electric current that instantly ran through Zhou Jianxing's body.
She pulled her legs back suddenly, her body stiff as a log, her head almost buried under the tablecloth, blood roaring in her ears.
"...I like you." The voice was thin and trembling, squeezed out from the tightly bitten lips, "But I...I like you...not just that kind of like..."
The playful smile in Wen Lingyi's eyes faded a little. She withdrew her foot and stopped teasing.
"Okay." His tone returned to his usual lazy tone.
·
The air in the underground garage carried the cold smell of engine oil and dust. Wen Lingyi unlocked the sleek sports car, and the headlights flashed, like a beast lurking in the darkness, opening its eyes.
"Can... can we take a walk together? Just for a while?" Zhou Jianxing's voice was timid and filled with reluctance.
Wen Lingyi looked down at the pair of lambskin-soled high heels on her feet. Walking in them was tantamount to torture.
But Zhou Jianxing's eyes, like a fawn's, were moist and filled with cautious anticipation. So, the words of rejection rolled around on his tongue before he swallowed them back.
"Um."
The riverside breeze carried a faint, fishy aroma. The lights were dim, and the shadows of the trees swayed. They walked side by side, their footsteps remarkably clear in the silence.
Only then did Wen Lingyi remember the question that had been diverted.
"How old do you think... I am this year?" She stopped, turned sideways, lifted a strand of thick black curly hair on her shoulder with her fingers, and looked straight at Zhou Jianxing with her eyes.
Zhou Jianxing was forced to stop and look at her honestly from head to toe.
From Wen Lingyi's carefully styled wavy hair, to her slender curves wrapped in wine-red silk, to the pair of sexy, low-key, yet incredibly alluring high heels on her feet...
"...early 30s, maybe? Probably?" she answered honestly.
Wen Lingyi's dress, gestures and movements are full of the unique style and charm of a mature woman. She is so beautiful that people want to kneel down and crawl to her feet.
The charming look on Wen Lingyi's face froze instantly. In her early 30s? She was only 28!
A surge of inexplicable anger shot up. Everyone else was eager to say she was 18, but this little idiot had simply added a few years to her age! Could it be that...she really looked old?
"Do I look that old?!" She reached out and pinched the soft flesh on Zhou Jianxing's waist in revenge.
"Ageless, ageless!" Zhou Jianxing felt pain and realized that she had said the wrong thing. She hurriedly tried to make amends, "Your beauty... is special... special..." She racked her brains, "It's very heavy! Like... like... the kind that is precipitated by time!" She was so anxious that sweat broke out on the tip of her nose.
Heavy?! Wen Lingyi almost couldn't catch her breath.
What kind of adjective is this?
Are we praising her for her profound background or saying that she is old-fashioned?
Looking at Zhou Jianxing's face full of sincerity and innocence, her anger was like a popped balloon, deflated with a puff, leaving only a feeling of powerlessness that made her angry and amused.
She was being angry with this idiot, which was pure self-abuse.
·
The two continued walking. Every time the stiletto heels of her high heels stepped on the tip of a knife, the pain spread sharply from the soles of her feet. Wen Lingyi's elegant expression was almost gone.
Finally, she stopped and held onto the cold railing beside her: "It's late, let's go back."
On the way back, the light and shadows blurred even further. The evening breeze swept across the river, bringing a hint of coolness. Zhou Jianxing's heart beat like a drum in the silence. His fingers curled and unclenched at his sides.
Finally, with the courage to risk everything, she tentatively and gently hooked her little finger around Wen Lingyi's fingers hanging at her side.
Wen Lingyi's body tensed up instantly.
The warm hand with a few calluses carefully wrapped around her fingertips.
An overly intimate, flattering touch.
She almost instinctively wanted to throw it away, like a hot iron. This was too far-fetched.
It's so...like we're really in love.
But the slight trembling of Zhou Jianxing's fingertips conveyed an unbearable tension.
Wen Lingyi took a deep breath and resisted the urge to pull her hand back. She took a few stiff steps, the warmth and the delicate touch becoming increasingly clear, wrapping around her like a vine, making her feel uncomfortable.
Finally, she pretended to be careless and naturally slipped her hand out of Zhou Jianxing's palm. The sweat and warmth of his palm still lingered on her fingertips.
"It's too hot in the summer," she said casually, raising her hands and looking at her still-dry palms in the streetlight. "My palms are all sweaty."
Zhou Jianxing's hand froze in mid-air, then he suddenly retracted it as if he had been scalded.
She lowered her head and quickly rubbed the hand that had just held Wen Lingyi's on her white skirt. A barely noticeable scratch was left on the brand new white skirt.
Under the light, the lines of her profile were tense, and she pursed her lips and said nothing.
Back at the cold and magnificent Zhaohua Building, Wen Lingyi got into the sports car, and the engine let out a deep and powerful roar.
The car lights illuminated the night, merged into the traffic flow, and quickly disappeared.
Zhou Jianxing stood there like a forgotten statue.
After a long time, she slowly raised the hand that had been wiped and spread out her palm.
There was nothing there, except for a little bit of body temperature belonging to another woman, which was completely dissipated by the wind.
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