Don't Love

Li Lan was awakened by a knock at the door.

She reached for her phone. It was four in the afternoon.

“Li Lan, are you home?”

Zhu Qing’s voice came from outside, muffled but tinged with concern.

She had gone out with Qian Cancan, and on her way home she’d asked whether Li Lan needed her to bring dinner back. Li Lan hadn’t replied at all.

When she got home, the kitchen and refrigerator were still untouched.

Li Lan’s shoes, bag, and coat were all still in the entryway; she hadn’t gone out.

She couldn’t have spent the whole day on just a cup of coffee, could she?

Zhu Qing knocked for a long time before the door finally opened. Li Lan looked as if she had just woken up. “What is it?”

Zhu Qing stared at her blankly. “Oh. Nothing, really.”

Li Lan had just washed her face; her hair was still a little damp. With the light in the room dim and sparse, she seemed wrapped in a layer of shadow and glow, her features divided into sharpness and softness by the ambiguous dusk.

She held the door open and waited. Zhu Qing lifted the plastic bag in her hand and offered, “I bought some diet food and fruit. Do you want a little?”

Li Lan was silent for a moment. “I don’t have an appetite.”

“You can’t go all day without eating, though,” Zhu Qing said as she pushed the door open all the way. The bright overhead light immediately spilled over Li Lan. “Come on, I’ll eat with you.”

Li Lan hesitated for two seconds, then followed her in.

She was still wearing the long-sleeved pajamas. It was nearly summer now, and even with the windows open for ventilation, the room still held some warmth. Zhu Qing asked considerately, “Should I turn on the air conditioner?”

“I’m not hot,” Li Lan said, shaking her head. After a pause, she added, “I’m not hungry either.”

“Was it because of the rice last night?” Zhu Qing unpacked the food and pushed a plate of freshly cut fruit in front of Li Lan. “Did you eat too many calories, so you have to watch your diet today?”

“No. I rarely control it on purpose.” Li Lan rubbed her temple. She just wanted to sleep. These past few days she’d run through two production crews, shot four magazine spreads, and squeezed in three commercials; her schedule had been packed so tightly it had completely drained her.

“Are you very busy with work?” Zhu Qing asked with concern. “Is there anything I can help with?”

Li Lan took the chopsticks Zhu Qing handed her, picked up a piece of diced beef from one of the diet boxes, then put it back. Frowning slightly, she said, “My agent has some issues. Lately Qian Chu has been handling my work. She’s a workaholic, and she’s taken on too many jobs for me.”

Zhu Qing thought of her meeting with Qian Chu that day and couldn’t help but agree wholeheartedly.

“Can your body handle it?” Zhu Qing asked worriedly.

Li Lan was calculating her recent workload and was just about to explain when something suddenly occurred to her. She stopped herself, swallowed back the words she’d been about to say, and answered lightly, “Mm. Those jobs are fine.”

Zhu Qing didn’t know Li Lan’s schedule, but she did know the entertainment industry was huge. She was just about to advise Li Lan to take care of herself when Li Lan’s phone rang.

When she answered, the voice on the other end sounded somewhat familiar.

“I forgot. Mm, no photographer needed. Don’t let them come,” Li Lan said, one hand supporting her head, her tone tired. “Then send it tonight. That’s all. Hang up.”

Zhu Qing asked, “What is it?”

Li Lan frowned. “They’re rushing me to post photos.”

After she finished speaking, Li Lan tossed her phone back onto the table. The movement was a little rough. Combined with how casually she’d been acting since waking up, Zhu Qing couldn’t help but want to laugh.

A cold, snow-covered statue had suddenly cracked open, revealing the soft, rough-edged interior within.

That contrast was just too endearing.

Li Lan didn’t have much of an appetite. Zhu Qing watched her swallow two bites of salmon, pick at the purple sweet potato arranged into a heart in the center of the diet meal, and eat five cherry tomatoes. “I’m full.”

Even though Li Lan ate with the elegance of someone posing for a magazine, that little bit of food wouldn’t even have filled the gaps between her teeth. And she was full already?

“You’re not eating anymore?” Zhu Qing added a little selfishness of her own. “I think this nut bar tastes pretty good. Do you want to try it?”

Li Lan critically studied the two nut bars standing in for “ears.” After a while, she picked one up and tossed it into her mouth. Not entirely pleased, she said, “I’m not eating anymore.”

Zhu Qing’s heart softened into a puddle. “Okay, okay. No more.”

She didn’t press her further. She thought that once she and Li Lan were more familiar with each other, she would increase how often they ate together and cook more to coax her into eating. Yesterday, Li Lan had eaten quite a bit of the food she made.

To Zhu Qing, Li Lan was on the same marriage certificate as her and living under the same roof as her, which meant Li Lan was her person.

And besides, this was the wife she had personally “found.”

That had nothing to do with whether she’d lost her memory or not. She didn’t remember how the old Zhu Qing had gotten along with Li Lan, whether she had treated Li Lan well, or whether she had cared about Li Lan. But from the moment she learned Li Lan was her wife, Zhu Qing had never once considered treating her badly.

With a living, breathing person right in front of her, Zhu Qing was certainly going to take good care of Li Lan.

Not to mention Li Lan was good to her too.

Although Li Lan’s attitude had always been lukewarm, neither rejecting nor affectionate, Zhu Qing still wanted to get close to her, to move nearer to her.

Even if Li Lan didn’t mean it that way, Zhu Qing didn’t care. Anyway, this was her person, and she could treat her however she wanted.

Zhu Qing remembered Li Lan still had a task to do. “Should we take the photos now?”

Li Lan glanced at the sunset slanting outside. The atmosphere was just right, so she nodded.

Zhu Qing went into the room to get the camera. She couldn’t find the Fuji she usually used; she only found a heavy-looking one and a Leica SL3.

She flipped through the manual while adjusting the settings, then took test shots of the decorations in the room.

“You bought this for me?” Zhu Qing estimated it was probably worth six figures.

Li Lan glanced at it and recognized it immediately. She nodded. “Your hundred-day work gift.”

A hundred-day work gift? What kind of holiday was that? Zhu Qing was speechless for a moment. Then she pointed the camera at Li Lan and clicked the shutter.

Li Lan’s gaze had been following Zhu Qing the entire time. Caught off guard, she ran straight into the lens, her face showing a trace of soft, dazed innocence as it was frozen within the frame.

“Come on,” Zhu Qing said, looking through the camera with delight. “This model handles dark and light detail really well. I can definitely get good shots with it; we just need to change your clothes.”

Li Lan yawned, then obediently got up and went to the bedroom to change.

Standing in front of the wardrobe, Li Lan’s gaze swept over several robes and silk satin dresses; elegant and understated, very safe, and very photogenic. A long linen dress with feather trim; fresh and natural, suitable for the mood of the sunset.

Li Lan didn’t want to think too much and casually reached for one set.

But just as her fingers touched the hanger, she pulled back.

Her eyes landed on the embroidered, structured robe at the very back of the wardrobe.

Thinking of the family-card payment notification from earlier that day, Li Lan’s throat tightened slightly. She lowered her eyes and stood silent for several seconds.

Her fingertips brushed the embroidered robe for a moment before she gently took it down.

—

By the floor-to-ceiling window, Zhu Qing was adjusting the camera. The moment she saw Li Lan, her gaze paused.

The person before her was wearing an exquisitely luxurious robe, burgundy satin embroidered with golden vine-and-lotus patterns. Under the warm light of the setting sun, red and gold intertwined.

Li Lan noticed her gaze and curved her lips slightly. In a low voice, she said, “I’ll pose on my own. Just shoot however you like.”

Zhu Qing’s throat bobbed. She lifted the camera, her voice a little hoarse. “Okay.”

Li Lan leaned back at an angle into the balcony swing, resting her chin on one hand as she looked toward the sunset.

The robe hung loose and languidly; with that movement, the sharp lines of her shoulder and neck were revealed, and the hollow at her collarbone caught tiny shards of light.

Zhu Qing pressed the shutter.

Click.

Li Lan changed poses, leaning back even farther. She looked at the lens, her legs crossed and extending out from beneath the robe; their lines appearing and disappearing in a blur.

Click, click.

Li Lan stood and leaned against the floor-to-ceiling window, gazing at the camera against the light.

Click, click, click.

She looked like a red-tailed mermaid stranded in moonlight; mystery and nobility bled through with the most extreme sensuality, yet her bearing remained cold, distant, and untouchable.

Li Lan’s gaze shifted. For a fleeting instant, Zhu Qing felt as if she had looked through the camera and straight at her.

Zhu Qing held her breath; her heartbeat suddenly slipped out of control.

She met Li Lan’s deeply piercing gaze, but couldn’t tell whether it was just her imagination. She only felt that there was so much in those eyes that she couldn’t understand.

That gaze cut through the thin warmth of the slanting sunset and quietly settled on Zhu Qing.

The distance between them was close, but that stare felt far too remote, far too detached, and it made Zhu Qing feel an indescribable sadness.

Li Lan suddenly walked toward the camera.

She reached out a hand; her pale, slender fingers extended toward the lens, as if brushing fallen petals from a lover’s temple.

After a second of stunned stillness, Zhu Qing quickly shook her head, forcing her mind blank, and pressed the shutter.

She took more than three hundred photos in total. In the end, Li Lan selected ten and sent them to the studio, then thanked Zhu Qing. “You took them very well. They were better than I expected.”

Zhu Qing felt the same. Those photos weren’t necessarily the best she’d ever taken, but they were definitely in her top three. The composition, the light and shadow, and Li Lan’s expressive presence all gave the pictures a rich soul.

Looking at Li Lan’s satisfied expression, Zhu Qing remembered what Qian Chu had asked her about that day.

Taking advantage of her good mood, Zhu Qing said, “Li Lan, there’s something I want to discuss with you.”

Li Lan looked up from her phone, turned off the screen, and sat up straight. “Go ahead.”

Zhu Qing sat down opposite her and got straight to the point. “This afternoon, when I went out, I ran into Qian Chu. She told me about the variety show.”

Li Lan’s expression darkened slightly. She understood immediately. “You don’t need to pay attention to what she says.”

“No, of course I need to pay attention,” Zhu Qing said bluntly. “Not to mention the liquidated damages are six million yuan; this variety show is good for your career development, so you should seize the opportunity.”

A trace of annoyance appeared between Li Lan’s brows, and her tone turned hard. “I’ll pay the penalty. You don’t need to worry about this.”

She didn’t wait for Zhu Qing to react and stood up at once. “If that’s what you want to talk about, then there’s no need to say anything else.”

Zhu Qing instinctively stood too. After hesitating for two seconds, she grabbed Li Lan’s arm tightly.

“Don’t go yet. I want to know why.”

Her thoughts were a little muddled. Li Lan’s sudden change in attitude had caught her off guard. In the past two days, aside from the time she had just lost her memory and signed the agreement, Li Lan’s interactions with her had mostly been polite and respectful; they had never been this tense.

Li Lan said coldly, “Let go.”

“Qian Chu said it was because of me. Do you want to protect me? But I’m not exactly a complete outsider anymore; I have my own photography account. You don’t have to worry about me being exposed to the public,” Zhu Qing asked, unable to figure out the reason, and hurried on, “If it’s because of something else, we can solve it together.”

Li Lan yanked her hand back hard, her voice unsteady. “Zhu Qing, when you and I signed that contract, we were in love. And now? You and I are not who we were anymore. I won’t participate in that show with you.”

When she finished, she took a deep breath. Her profile was tightly set, as if she wanted to look at Zhu Qing once, but in the end she didn’t turn her head. She turned and left.

Zhu Qing stood frozen in place, Li Lan’s words echoing over and over in her mind.

We’re no longer in love.

It was as if a tiny ice needle had suddenly and unexpectedly pierced straight into the tip of her heart.