So-Called Karma 9

When night fell, Yan Xianchuan volunteered to keep watch.

She urged Lu Mingqiu to sleep well and not to worry, like a new parent sending a child off to school for the first time, repeating herself over and over. She also refused Lu Mingqiu's offer to take the second half of the night, cheerfully carrying her blanket to the living room.

People change, and Lu Mingqiu couldn't agree more. Her own thoughts had shifted countless times as she grew, but she keenly sensed that the change in the woman before her was too drastic.

The tone of her admonitions, the emotion hidden in her eyes, her every action—all stirred an almost fearful unease in Lu Mingqiu's heart.

Before Yan Xianchuan even realized what liking felt like, Lu Mingqiu, who understood people's hearts thoroughly, had already discovered it.

Many had professed love to her. When she was a movie queen, fellow actors and people from all related industries confessed their love, but she rejected them all without exception.

When she was in the Resistance, even without the beauty that dimmed the sunlight, people boldly declared themselves to her. It could be said that Lu Mingqiu's life had never lacked suitors.

But her own attitude toward love was indifferent, even somewhat weary. Literary works often praised love, comparing it to a unique and precious emotion that could make iron trees bloom, stones bear fruit, and turn the most cold-hearted person into a pool of sweet water bubbling with pink fantasies.

Once people had love, they could overcome all kinds of difficulties—whether the constraints of inner character or the chasm of external class. With the courage love gave, these predicaments were no more than puddles before an adult, easily stepped over.

Too exaggerated, too illusory.

Were the loves in these works all beautiful precisely because they couldn't be found in real life?

In her family life, Lu Mingqiu had never felt its presence.

Her mother had hung her entire being, her entire heart, on her father. She was the perfect mistress cultivated by the family—gentle, considerate, and pleasing.

Not like a person, but like a commodity, an object, a symbol. She had no self, completely dependent on her owner. Was that love?

Her mother thought it was, but how much of that twisted emotion stemmed from her own distorted inner personality, shaped by others? She had never understood freedom or self, so how could she know what love was?

And in Lu Mingqiu's life, she had never seen a single sweet, loving couple. Omegas had a deformed life without choices, but even the relatively freer betas seemed not to taste love's sweetness, only endless quarrels.

Her personal makeup artist often murmured to herself during that time, her eyes full of distress and confusion.

—He wasn't like this before. He was good to me. Maybe I'm wrong too. I don't understand.

For the brief happiness of the past, one had to endure endless suffering in the future. If that was love, then Lu Mingqiu would rather never have anything to do with it.

Her life was full and complete. She walked on the path of realizing her ideals, and for that, she could devote her entire life. She had no need for love as a supplement.

But if it were anyone else, she had ten thousand ways to refuse them—politely or directly—and no one would pester her endlessly.

The problem was that Yan Xianchuan was not just anyone. Not because her status was special, but because she herself was special.

Her personality, her identity, her medical records—all clearly showed she possessed the fine quality of extreme persistence. Her excessive self made her stop at nothing to achieve her goals. She cared more about herself than others' feelings, which meant that whatever Yan Xianchuan wanted, she had to get.

Now, although she hadn't yet realized her feelings, sooner or later she would. And when that day came, how would Lu Mingqiu handle herself?

They stayed together every day, like roommates or housemates, seeing each other constantly. It had already been hard enough to turn the page on what happened last time.

Lu Mingqiu could hardly bear to think of what it would be like when she had to utter words of rejection.

She had no interest in love, but she knew that the one who fell first, even in the simple act of confessing, was offering their true heart and risking being hurt, facing whatever outcome might come. The courage involved was undoubtedly immense.

Even if she wouldn't accept, she wouldn't drag things out and consume others' emotions, smugly enjoying the feeling of being pursued. Each time, she refused cleanly and without leaving room for hope.

So although hearing bad news would inevitably bring sadness, it was better than a dull, persistent ache.

If she could help it, she didn't want to hurt the other person.

Lu Mingqiu sighed silently and pulled the blanket up a little higher. The warmth left by Yan Xianchuan when she tucked in the corners seemed to linger, passing through her fingertips to her heart.

She turned over and calmly recognized that this was just an illusion of her own making.

Walnut Town had no light pollution, so the stars hung clearly in the night sky, a river of stars cutting across it, like a painter forgetting to blend the colors, leaving glitter crowding together to wind into a silver river.

The clock's hands jumped to midnight. The sparrow drones, following their simulated habits, hid away to sleep. With no eyes around, Yan Xianchuan secretly cut the curtain with a knife and peered out through the gap in the fabric.

It wasn't that she was being unnecessarily cautious; all the curtains in the house were nailed to the walls and wouldn't budge unless she pulled out the nails.

Nearing the full moon, it grew rounder, like an oval egg white, hanging high in the night sky, casting a veil of silver light.

Using this faint brightness, Yan Xianchuan peeked at the outside world. The thin light didn't hinder her; her pupils dilated until they nearly merged with her irises, greedily capturing every ray, making the buildings in the night as clear as day.

She sat on the blanket as a soft cushion. That night, Yan Xianchuan didn't plan to sleep.

After observing for a while, she couldn't help but daydream, and when she daydreamed, she inevitably thought of Lu Mingqiu.

She wondered if the other was sleeping and what she might dream of. She thought of how she looked under the blanket, eyes closed, lashes especially distinct. She thought of her rosy cheeks and soft lips. Kissing and biting felt different; Yan Xianchuan's tongue moved restlessly in her mouth, only to be caught between her teeth and settle down.

The quiet night was perfect for letting the mind wander. This wasn't the first time she'd revisited such memories, nor would it be the last. At first she'd blush, feel guilty, and despise her own insatiability. Later, she began to savor them, chewing over every detail in her memories, tasting each frown and muffled groan.

She remembered the damp, smooth touch of skin slick with sweat, the rhythm of a heartbeat under her palm, every wordless sound from the other's nose or throat, eyes wet with involuntary tears, and hair like seaweed.

Stop. Stop these wild thoughts... Yan Xianchuan pulled her gaze away from the bedroom door, which she hadn't realized she'd been staring at, and pressed herself back to the curtain's slit, trying to extinguish the invisible fire in her heart with the cold, dead night outside.

The next moment, she was glad she'd snapped back in time. A figure with elongated limbs was leaping across the rooftops, like a nimble monkey swinging through vines.

The dark night was its best cover. It jumped from one building to another, finally stopping on a five-story building directly in front of Yan Xianchuan, silently opening the rooftop door and descending into the building.

Yan Xianchuan held her breath and listened. Through the buildings and streets, she didn't hear sounds from outside, but she did hear sounds from behind—inside the building.

Like a many-legged crawler moving across paper, a series of rustling sounds spread from the ground floor upward. Not one, but a swarm.

Yan Xianchuan hurried to the door and peered through the peephole. With a soft thud, a four-toed gray-black paw landed squarely on the lens. A brownish-black shadow with a swinging tail crawled past, followed by another.

She suddenly recognized the creature—rats. A flood of rats surged into the stairwell, spreading upward like a tide. They made no sound, only running quietly.

Yan Xianchuan's expression grew serious. Such an orderly swarm must be controlled by someone. She wasn't worried for herself; even if the rats attacked, their teeth couldn't break her skin, and with enough weapons, eliminating them was only a matter of time.

But Lu Mingqiu wasn't as thick-skinned as her. She could easily dispatch the swarm with her esper power, but last time, she'd been hit by a sonic attack and lost mobility—Yan Xianchuan remembered that clearly.

When the rat tide had run past, Yan Xianchuan rushed to the bedroom and shook the sleeping person awake. "A huge swarm of rats is in the stairwell. They'll gnaw through the door. We should move."

She started to pull Lu Mingqiu up, intending to carry her out, but her wrist was caught. "Wait, don't rush. Just rats? Ordinary or mutated?"

"Ordinary gray rats," Yan Xianchuan replied.

"Then why are you panicking?" Lu Mingqiu said, puzzled. "I can handle them without much effort. The espers in Walnut Town aren't strong enough to hurt us. The real threat is the hidden Church."

"But you're still injured," Yan Xianchuan had to release her arm and stood awkwardly by the bed like a scolded schoolchild, mumbling, "Last time, at that building, when you used your power, your injury got worse."

"That's not it," Lu Mingqiu said, a trace of a smile slipping from her eyes. "That time, it was my pheromone disorder. The wound from the gland removal hadn't healed yet."

"I know you care about me, but this injury doesn't affect my using my power."

"Alright." Yan Xianchuan clasped her hands behind her back and repeated, "Alright."

"I'll go back to watching."

"I'll join you," Lu Mingqiu said, getting out of bed before the other could stop her. "I've slept long enough. I need some activity too. Don't worry, I really am much better."

"You watch the windows," she said. "I'll guard the door. If someone tries to break in, call me."

"Try to keep them alive, but if you can't, don't force it," Lu Mingqiu said seriously. "Your safety comes first."

TL Note:

"Iron trees bloom (铁树开花)" is a Chinese idiom meaning an extremely rare or impossible event.