Tears? Kiss Them Off

The room fell silent at once, leaving only the birdsong outside the window. It was thin and crisp, a reminder that the world was still turning as always.

Sunlight slipped through the gap in the curtains and fell across Xi Zhen’s face, making the mist in her eyes glimmer.

Li Xingqing lifted a trembling hand and gently cradled Xi Zhen’s chin with her fingertips, tilting it up slightly. Big tears spilled from Xi Zhen’s eyes, and Li Xingqing bent down to press her lips lightly to the tear tracks.

Warm, faintly salty, with a taste like seawater.

Her lips moved from Xi Zhen’s cheek to the corner of her eye, kissing away the dampness inch by inch. The motion was so light it was as if she were wiping a piece of the most fragile porcelain. Xi Zhen’s lashes trembled beneath her lips, like butterfly wings startled by the wind, but she didn’t dodge.

Li Xingqing didn’t let go. Her thumb slowly brushed over Xi Zhen’s cheekbone once, then again, and again.

“Xi Zhen,” her voice was a little hoarse, but steady, as if she were giving an answer she had thought through and confirmed countless times, “you’re the best. They’re the ones who don’t deserve you.”

“Song Xunqing isn’t worthy, and Shi Fengyu isn’t worthy either. It’s not that you’re not good enough; it’s that they aren’t. They don’t deserve how seriously you take them. They don’t deserve your stubbornness.”

She took Xi Zhen’s hand and placed it on her own knee, covering that one hand with both of hers, as if she wanted to pass over all her warmth.

“You weren’t born unworthy of being treated well.” She lowered her head, pressing her forehead against the back of Xi Zhen’s hand, her voice muffled. “No, that’s not it! You just haven’t met the right person yet. You just... haven’t accepted me yet.”

Xi Zhen’s fingers moved once in her palm.

“I know I’m younger than you,” Li Xingqing said from beneath her lowered head, but every word was clear. “I know you think I’m not mature enough, not steady enough, not someone you can really rely on. I know what you’re afraid of. You’re afraid I’ll leave one day too, afraid I’ll be like the people you’ve met before and think you’re too hard, too stubborn, too difficult to deal with.” She lifted her head and looked at Xi Zhen. Her eyes were red, her lashes wet, but there was light in them.

“I won’t leave.” The four words were neither heavy nor loud.

“You’re hard, and I’ll be hard with you. You’re stubborn, and I’ll be stubborn with you. If you don’t want to act coy, then don’t. If you don’t want to bow your head, then don’t. If you don’t want to be saved, I’ll stay beside you and wait until you can’t hold on anymore, then reach out and catch you.” Li Xingqing tightened her grip a little, just enough for Xi Zhen to feel the lines of her palm.

“I’m not Song Xunqing, and I’m not Shi Fengyu. I won’t break you, I won’t change you, and I won’t turn you into someone else. The one I like is you—the you right now, the hard one, the stubborn one, the one who doesn’t act sweet, the one who got drunk and still gritted her teeth and refused to cry.”

“Xi Zhen, you don’t need to become soft; you don’t need to learn how to lower your head; you don’t need to become anyone else’s anything. You just need to be yourself.”

“So... can you give me a chance to catch you?”

Xi Zhen didn’t answer. She just lowered her head and looked at their clasped hands. Outside, the birds called again and again; a beam of sunlight slowly slid across the floor toward the foot of the bed, inching up over the blanket, over the pillow, and finally stopping at the place where their fingers were intertwined, refusing to leave.

She didn’t say yes, and she didn’t say no, but her hand never pulled away.

Li Xingqing lowered her head, the corners of her mouth curving slightly. That was enough. That was enough.

After that day, life seemed to stay the same. Xi Zhen was still busy to the point of barely touching the ground, all for her new project. Only the messages on her phone grew more and more numerous, from daily on-time greetings to nonstop little updates about everyday life.

During a meeting, a cloud shaped like a dog drifted past the window; a photo came through. A cat by the roadside was dozing beside a trash can; another photo came through. Overtime in an empty office; another photo, accompanied by the message: “You definitely haven’t slept yet.”

Sometimes Xi Zhen’s phone would buzz so much in her pocket that it felt hot. When she took it out, the screen was full of that person’s rambling daily chatter. She didn’t reply much, but she read every single message. Sometimes halfway through, the corners of her mouth would lift without her even noticing.

Once, Lin Runan leaned over to peek at her screen, and Xi Zhen quickly flipped the phone over, the movement so fast it looked like she’d been caught stealing. Lin Runan said nothing, but the loneliness in her eyes said enough.

The new project was going very smoothly. Xi Zhen sat in her office flipping through this week’s progress report. Every metric was better than expected, and even the usually picky platform side hadn’t asked for any revisions.

Lin Runan brought in a cup of coffee and set it beside her hand, then stood there for a while, hesitating as if she had something to say.

“If you have something to say, say it.” Xi Zhen didn’t look up.

“Brother Bai Mo wrapped,” Lin Runan said carefully. “He wants to take a few days off.”

Xi Zhen’s fingers paused on the page. “Let him in.”

Bai Mo came in with a somewhat ingratiating smile on his face. He had just wrapped up; he’d probably gone off for wild fun again last night, because fatigue still lingered at the corners of his eyes. He sat down across from Xi Zhen and placed both hands obediently on his knees like a well-behaved elementary school student.

“Sis, I wrapped my new drama.”

“Mm.”

“I want to take a few days off.”

Xi Zhen leaned back in her chair and looked at him. “How many days?”

“One week.”

“Where to?”

“...Misty Isle.”

“With Zheng Yuyu?”

Bai Mo gave an embarrassed smile, bit his lip, then clasped his hands together and lifted them above his head in a pitiful plea. “Sis, we finally managed to line up our time off. Please let me go, okay? Please, please.”

“Does your mother know?” Xi Zhen asked.

Bai Mo’s smile froze for a moment. “...No.”

“How are you planning to tell her?”

“I’ll just say the production wrapped and I want to go out and relax for a bit...” Bai Mo’s voice got smaller and smaller. He seemed to realize that dating was not a trivial matter, especially when the person he had fallen for was another man.

But he couldn’t help it. Zheng Yuyu was very good; he liked him very much, and they liked each other. So why should they miss out on each other because of that?

Xi Zhen rubbed her forehead and pressed her fingers to her temples. “Got it. I’ll help you keep it from your mom for now, but... you’ll still have to tell her someday.”

“The last time your mom was hospitalized, I was the one who signed the papers. You were on set, so I didn’t tell you. Your mom didn’t want me to either; she said you were busy and didn’t want to distract you.” Xi Zhen paused. “Think it through yourself. Your mom... misses you very much.”

Bai Mo’s eyes turned red. “Sis, I know. I... thank you.”

“Alright, enough,” Xi Zhen said, patting his shoulder. “Go have a good time. Oh, and don’t get photographed.”

Bai Mo sniffed, his eyes red, but he was smiling so widely it nearly reached his ears. “Sis, you’re the best. Really. You’re the best in the whole world.”

“Cut the act.” Xi Zhen waved him off. “Go on, don’t miss your flight.”

Bai Mo turned and ran toward the door, then suddenly doubled back and poked out half his head. “Sis, thanks for helping me hide it from Mom. When I get back, I’ll go see her, I promise.”

“Mm.”

“Sis, are you really not coming with me? Bali is super—”

“Not going.” Xi Zhen refused immediately.

At that, Bai Mo stuck out his tongue, shrank back, and ran off in a flurry of footsteps.

After seeing Bai Mo off, Xi Zhen sat alone in her office. In the evening, her phone lit up. She thought it was Bai Mo, but when she picked it up, it was Li Xingqing.

Li Xingqing: [Are you free later? A new Japanese restaurant just opened.]

Xi Zhen stared at the message for a while. Sunlight streamed in from outside the window, making the phone screen reflect faintly. She typed a few words, deleted them; typed a few more, and deleted those too. In the end, she replied with one word: “Okay.”

The other side responded instantly: “I’ll come pick you up.”

Xi Zhen looked at those four words and set the phone face down on the desk.

Li Xingqing arrived very quickly; before long, a black car was parked downstairs at Xi Zhen’s company. Xi Zhen saw it through the floor-to-ceiling window, but she didn’t hurry. She finished the last few pages of paperwork in hand, signed her name, and closed the folder.

When Lin Runan came in to take the documents, she glanced at Xi Zhen again. “Sis, you approved Brother Bai Mo’s leave?”

“Mm. He really should rest for a while. If you want some time off too, come find me anytime.” Xi Zhen didn’t catch the other meaning in Lin Runan’s tone and instinctively thought the other girl might also want a break.

“Thank you, Sister Zhen.” Lin Runan’s gaze slowly drifted from Xi Zhen’s face to the mallow flowers in the glass vase. The purple blossoms were already a little dried out, their edges curling slightly, but Xi Zhen had never thrown them away. She changed the water every day and occasionally plucked off yellowing petals, as if she were caring for something precious.

“There’s nothing else tonight; leave work early.” Xi Zhen picked up her coat and stood. Before leaving, she paused and specifically told Lin Runan.

Lin Runan smiled. “Okay.”

In the elevator going down, Xi Zhen adjusted her collar in the mirror. When her fingers touched the neckline, she paused, then lowered her hand again.

The car was still parked in the same spot. The window was rolled down halfway, revealing half of Li Xingqing’s face. Today she was wearing a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to her forearms; her shoulder-length hair wasn’t tied back, and the evening breeze blowing in from outside the car had tousled it a little.

When she saw Xi Zhen come out, Li Xingqing’s eyes lit up, and she watched the other woman walk toward her step by step, closer and closer.

Xi Zhen opened the front passenger door and got in. Inside the car, there was a faint perfume scent, the same as the one on Li Xingqing’s body—distinctive, but not overpowering. “Have you been waiting long?” she asked.

“No.” Li Xingqing started the car, turned on the signal, and drove out of the parking spot. Every movement flowed smoothly, as if she’d practiced it many times. In fact, she really had. For example, she habitually came by Xi Zhen’s company every day to circle the block, though she never let Xi Zhen know.

The car merged onto the main road. Xi Zhen leaned back against the seat and looked at the street scene outside. Streetlights came on one by one, turning the car interior into a patchwork of light and shadow.

“The Japanese restaurant,” Li Xingqing said suddenly, “is on the top floor of Guomao.”

“Mm.” Xi Zhen gave a noncommittal reply.

“You can see the whole CBD night view from the window seat.”

“Mm.” Xi Zhen still sounded absentminded.

“I booked us a table for eight-thirty.”

“Mm.”

Li Xingqing glanced at her. Seeing there really was no expression on Xi Zhen’s face, she looked back at the road.

The car stopped at a red light; pedestrians outside hurried past, some carrying briefcases, some holding children by the hand, some cradling a bouquet of flowers. They were red roses, wrapped into a large bunch and held so close to the person’s chest that their face was almost hidden. Xi Zhen looked at the flowers and suddenly thought of the mallow bouquet in her office.

“Li Xingqing.” Xi Zhen called to the person beside her.

“Mm?”

“The flowers you gave me last time dried up.”

Li Xingqing’s fingers paused on the steering wheel. “Then did you like them?”

Xi Zhen didn’t answer. The light turned green, and the car moved forward again. A few seconds later, she spoke, her tone casual. “They dried up, but I didn’t throw them away.”

The car fell quiet for a moment. Li Xingqing didn’t move, but the car clearly slowed; it slowed so much that the car behind honked, and only then did she come back to herself and press the accelerator. Xi Zhen had already turned toward the window, but Li Xingqing still saw the red at the tips of her ears.

When the car entered the underground parking garage of Guomao, Xi Zhen’s phone lit up. It was a message from Bai Mo; he had already arrived and sent her a photo of the sunset. The sea beside Misty Isle had been burned orange-red, bright and dazzling.

Li Xingqing parked the car and leaned over. “What are you looking at?” After she saw the contents of the message, she said, “It looks nice.”

Xi Zhen said nothing, put the phone away, and unfastened her seat belt. Li Xingqing didn’t mind her silence; she switched off the engine, got out, and walked around to the passenger side.

Xi Zhen glanced at her. “What are you standing here for?”

“Waiting for you.”

Xi Zhen didn’t speak and walked past her. Her heels clicked against the ground: tap, tap, tap. After a couple of steps, she stopped and looked back. Li Xingqing was still standing there with her hands in her pockets, watching her.

“Come on,” Xi Zhen said. “What are you standing around for?”

Li Xingqing smiled and followed, staying half a step behind her—not too far, not too close. The two of them walked shoulder to shoulder toward the elevator entrance. Their shadows, stretched long by the garage lights, fell across the floor and almost touched.

Once they were inside the elevator, Xi Zhen noticed that the woman beside her couldn’t stop trembling and turned to ask, “Li Xingqing.”

“Mm?”

“What are you smiling about?”

“I’m not smiling.” Li Xingqing tried hard to hold it back.

“The corners of your mouth are practically about to fly into the sky.”

Li Xingqing reached up to touch the corners of her mouth, then lowered her hand again, laughing even harder. “Sister’s scolding me.”

Xi Zhen didn’t scold her. She turned away and wanted to laugh too, but in the end she held it back, forcibly pressing down the corners of her mouth and pretending to look at the floor numbers.

“Xi Zhen.”

“Mm?”

“Can I send you different flowers next time?”

Xi Zhen looked at the person reflected in the elevator doors and held the look for two seconds. “...So unruly.”

The elevator arrived. Li Xingqing stepped out first, then stood by the door and looked back at her. The light fell across her face, making her eyes shine brightly. Xi Zhen came out of the elevator and, as she passed by, her steps paused slightly.

“Mallow is fine,” she said. “I don’t like anything else.” With that, Xi Zhen strode forward, her steps a little faster than before.

Li Xingqing stood there for a moment, stunned; then she smiled, her eyes curving into crescents. She hurried to catch up, and this time she didn’t stay half a step behind. She walked shoulder to shoulder with Xi Zhen.

The Japanese restaurant was at the end of the corridor. When they pushed the door open, the entire CBD night view rushed toward them. Li Xingqing had booked a table by the window, and by coincidence, there was also a pot of mallow flowers on the table. Whether it had been arranged on purpose or had simply always been meant to be, no one knew.