2013
The crematorium’s most expensive funeral package cost 59,999 yuan. It included dressing the body, makeup, a traditional funeral ritual, an elaborate and beautiful farewell ceremony, fresh flowers delivered by a florist, and an expensive, exquisite urn.
The cheapest package cost only 997 yuan. It included only the most basic body transport, cremation, and a brief farewell ceremony. The urn had to be provided separately, or bought at an additional cost.
For Lang Lang, they chose the 997-yuan package and added the mandatory cosmetic preparation for the body, along with an egg-shaped, bright green urn.
The urn was made of a smooth, gentle material, with a few lines on it that looked artistic, faintly glowing under the light.
Its egg shape did not look like a place where someone would sleep forever. Instead, it looked as if a brand-new life might crack free of it someday far in the future.
Chi Xiaoman couldn’t quite make out what the lines on the egg meant, but when she looked over the dull, old-fashioned urns behind the counter and saw this one, she felt that Lang Lang would definitely like it. So even when the staff member reminded her that the urn cost three times their entire package, she still decided to buy it.
But when it came time to pay.
Chi Xiaoman realized she couldn’t gather together enough money, and she also suddenly couldn’t remember the password to Lang Lang’s passbook.
How strange. Her memory was clearly excellent. She could memorize menu items and lines without missing a single character, but now, a six-digit password repeated to her twice was impossible to remember.
As if someone had scooped that part of her memory out with a spoon.
So when the crematorium staff asked whether she was paying by card or cash—
Chi Xiaoman stood there like a tree stripped bare of its leaves, motionless for a long while. Only then did she pull a few crumpled bills out of her pocket with great difficulty.
But the weather was too cold; her hands were so frozen they shook.
As she took the money out, she failed to hold it properly.
A few coins from the hospital payment window fell to the ground.
Clatter, clatter—
Chi Xiaoman hurriedly bent down to pick them up.
She heard Chen Tong softly ask the staff member who had been waiting for them for a long time,
“Can we pay by card?”
Her breath in the winter air turned a ghastly white. Chi Xiaoman did not stand up.
She hunched over and awkwardly groped on the ground for the coins.
“Yes, yes.” The staff member responded, then tapped a few times on the POS machine.
Beep—
The card payment went through.
The staff member took back the machine and said to Chen Tong, “There aren’t many spots left in the farewell hall for the next few days. Can you accept cremation at midnight tomorrow?”
Midnight tomorrow.
That was New Year’s Eve.
The New Year hadn’t arrived yet.
Chi Xiaoman finally managed to pick up the coins, stood up, and said, “Yes, yes. Could we wait one more day?”
“We can, but,” the staff member’s gaze lingered on the handful of crumpled bills in her hand for a second before moving away, “an extra day of storage means an extra day’s fee.”
“How much is one day?” Chi Xiaoman asked.
“One hundred.” The staff member said simply.
“Then I, I have it.” Chi Xiaoman hurriedly unfolded the wad of bills in her hand. There was one twenty-yuan note, one ten-yuan note, one five-yuan note, and one fifty-yuan note, along with a few coins and some one-yuan bills...
She tried hard to flatten each note, but once they were flattened, she suddenly couldn’t tell how they added up to one hundred, so she could only offer all of it over with trembling hands.
“These should be enough.”
The staff member hesitated and looked at Chen Tong.
Chen Tong said nothing.
She came over and put an arm around Chi Xiaoman’s shoulder. After a long while, she said in a low voice, “It’s enough.”
So the staff member also pressed her lips together, took several bills from Chi Xiaoman’s trembling hand, took away a few coins, and finally sighed.
“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to schedule it for the day after tomorrow.”
“Thank you, thank you.” Chi Xiaoman said with lowered eyes.
After giving away all her money, she had only one five-yuan note and a few coins left. But she wiped her face and put them back into her pocket anyway, clutching them tightly, then tighter still.
Chen Tong held her and reached out to stroke her red hair, wild and dry from the winter night wind.
They didn’t speak.
Like two snow grains, so close and yet so far apart, standing in the crematorium lobby and being mercilessly washed over by the bright lights.
In truth.
Chi Xiaoman felt as if she were some kind of vertebrate whose brain fluid had been drained out and placed in a transparent glass case for observation and experiment.
Her eyes, her ears, all her senses, and the world around her were separated by a thin white fog; she couldn’t perceive anything clearly.
Everything around her seemed numb and unreal. She didn’t know whether the death certificate from the hospital, or the documents they signed at the crematorium, were real or imagined. She also didn’t know whether Chen Tong, who had suddenly appeared at her side, was real or imagined.
That was, until they walked out of the crematorium.
Chen Tong took her into a taxi.
After getting out, she held her hand very tightly and led her toward Xingfu Road.
It was winter; the wind was strong and the snow was cold.
Both of their hands were cold and stiff. Joined together, they didn’t warm up for a long time. But they still held on tightly.
It was when they passed a noodle shop that was still open that Chi Xiaoman stopped and, a little dazedly, asked Chen Tong, “Sister Chen Tong, haven’t you eaten anything this whole time?”
Chen Tong turned slightly and looked into her eyes. “Want some noodles?”
“Okay.” Chi Xiaoman nodded.
With her other free hand gripping the money left in her pocket, she said, “I’ll treat you.”
“Okay.” Chen Tong nodded.
They went into the noodle shop.
The owner probably hadn’t expected anyone at this hour, so many ingredients weren’t prepared. There was only the most basic egg noodle soup.
Chi Xiaoman counted the money in her pocket and ordered one bowl of egg noodles. Only enough for one bowl. She took out all the money in her pocket and gave it to the owner, her teeth trembling a little. “Could, could you please add an egg?”
“Okay.” The noodle shop owner took the money and went to cook the noodles.
They sat down at a very ordinary table.
Facing each other.
Chen Tong looked at her.
Chi Xiaoman kept her eyes lowered, took out a pair of disposable chopsticks, carefully scraped off the splinters for Chen Tong, and explained simply, “I’m not really able to eat much. If I eat even a little, I’ll throw up, so I won’t eat.”
Chen Tong said nothing.
The lights were bright in the middle of the night; outside, the snowy ground was pale and cold. She seemed to be thinking about how to make Chi Xiaoman feel better.
Because she had no idea what had happened to make Lang Lang jump from such a high floor.
She could have been completely innocent. It was Chi Xiaoman who had brought her so much pain, made her go ask her mother for money, made her spend all the pay she had earned from filming in Beijing, and in the end it seemed to have been of little use at all, leaving her only with the news, delivered by phone, that “Lang Lang is gone.”
But Chi Xiaoman had no way to explain it to her. In fact, Chi Xiaoman herself still couldn’t figure out exactly what had happened.
So when the noodles were brought over.
Through the steaming haze.
She forced the corners of her lips up toward Chen Tong, set the cleaned chopsticks down neatly, and said, “L-let’s eat noodles first.”
Chen Tong lowered her eyes.
She looked at the bowl of noodles steaming in front of her.
After a long while, she suddenly stood up and walked behind Chi Xiaoman.
Chi Xiaoman watched her stand, turning her eyes dazedly, parting her lips, but saying nothing.
A little later.
Chen Tong came back.
She was holding a new bowl, and took a fresh pair of chopsticks from the chopstick holder. From the bowl of noodles with two eggs, she picked out part of it, and also one egg.
After dividing it up.
She handed the bowl with more broth to Chi Xiaoman and said softly, “I ate a little at the airport. I can’t eat that much.”
Chi Xiaoman struggled to part her lips.
“Eat.” Chen Tong said this, then picked up a mouthful of noodles and brought them to her mouth. She bit down, chewed for a long while, and swallowed with difficulty. “Don’t let it get cold.”
Actually, Chen Tong always ate slowly, always chewed thoroughly and swallowed carefully. Most of the time, she would take a few bites and then stop. But this bowl of noodles, split into two, she ate very quietly and very earnestly, not stopping even once, eating slowly.
As if... just to make sure Chi Xiaoman ate properly, she was setting an example herself.
Chi Xiaoman watched for a while.
Her eyes kept turning red.
“Why aren’t you eating?” Chen Tong stopped.
“I’m eating.”
Chi Xiaoman rubbed her eyes, hurriedly picked up her chopsticks, and took a huge mouthful of noodles too. “Right away.”
That was what she said.
And she also tried very hard to put the noodles into her mouth.
The taste of this bowl of egg noodles was very ordinary. Maybe the owner had used too little seasoning, so it was bland.
Chi Xiaoman ate mouthful after mouthful.
Chen Tong watched her for a while, then slowly resumed eating too.
A long time passed.
Neither of them said anything.
They just quietly faced each other and split one bowl of noodles between them.
Until it was almost finished.
Chi Xiaoman felt very uncomfortable in her stomach.
She had to stop slowly, and only then did she dare to look carefully at Chen Tong sitting across from her—
They hadn’t seen each other in a long time.
It really shouldn’t have been a reunion like this.
In Chi Xiaoman’s imagination of seeing Chen Tong again, it should have been Chen Tong safely finishing her acting work, and Chi Xiaoman taking Lang Lang with her to the airport to pick her up. Maybe the weather would have warmed up by then.
At that time, Lang Lang might have complained that she was being too noisy beside her, so in the end she would still be wearing a lot of clothes.
Chi Xiaoman would also be holding a newly bought coat, standing on tiptoe and waving hard at Chen Tong as she came out through the crowd...
And then.
They would embrace among the people and Lang Lang’s gaze, desperately trying to feel the familiar scent on each other.
That was how it was supposed to be.
Chi Xiaoman thought dazedly.
Maybe because she felt Chi Xiaoman looking at her.
Chen Tong also stopped. After a pause, she looked up at her. “Are you full?”
Chi Xiaoman nodded.
“Good.” Chen Tong nodded too.
She seemed rather different from before she left Beijing. Her hair had grown much longer; the ends looked as if they had been trimmed. She also seemed to have lost a lot of weight; some of the flesh on her face had hollowed out, and the overnight travel probably made her look exhausted.
She was wearing a coat she wouldn’t normally wear for long in Beijing’s winter, a purple scarf, and her glasses also seemed to have changed, now into a pair of black-rimmed frames, no longer the flattened round dark-green pair from summer.
Still very beautiful.
Only Chi Xiaoman suddenly had a little trouble recognizing her.
Chen Tong took out two tissues and handed one to Chi Xiaoman first.
Chi Xiaoman reached out carefully to take it.
She accidentally touched her fingers.
And immediately pulled back.
Chen Tong’s movement paused for a few seconds.
Then, perhaps seeing that she had been staring at her in a daze, she asked softly,
“Why do you keep looking at me?”
“No.” Chi Xiaoman shook her head.
Then she lowered her eyes and used the tissue Chen Tong had handed her to wipe her mouth, saying slowly,
“I just didn’t expect you to rush back all of a sudden.”
She sniffled. “I also didn’t expect you to find me in a situation like this.”
She forced a smile at Chen Tong. “It’s like you’re my savior.”
“Chi Xiaoman.” Chen Tong called her name.
“Mm?” Chi Xiaoman looked up in confusion.
Chen Tong looked at her.
They met each other’s eyes.
Both of them were trying very hard.
Just like before Chen Tong left Beijing, when that bus drove away from Xingfu Road toward a far-off place. Through the bus window, they were separated and looked at each other just as intensely.
Chi Xiaoman wiped her eyes.
Chen Tong’s eyes also slowly reddened. She seemed to have a lot of questions she wanted to ask, and a lot she wanted to say.
But in the end.
She only called her, “Xiaoman.”
Then, with some difficulty, said,
“Let’s go home first, okay?”
-
The day before New Year’s Eve had the festive but desolate feel of a holiday about to arrive. There were many snowmen piled up in the snow.
They passed those snowmen and walked quietly toward Xingfu Road’s Fragrance Alley.
Chen Tong held Chi Xiaoman’s hand very tightly.
Chi Xiaoman also held her hand.
Both of them held on tightly.
The grip was strong.
Maybe only like this could they feel each other’s presence beside them.
They probably held hands for a while.
At last Chi Xiaoman recovered a little sense of familiarity from Chen Tong. The strangeness hadn’t disappeared. But she still longed to erase it as quickly as possible, so she took the initiative and said, “Sister Chen Tong, what should we do about the film?”
Chen Tong paused, squeezing her fingers. “It’s fine. The crew happens to be on New Year’s holiday these next few days.”
Her voice softened, her tone patient.
“I was actually going to call you last night to say I was coming back, but I didn’t make it in time.”
Chi Xiaoman nodded. “Then how long is the holiday?”
Chen Tong stopped walking.
Chi Xiaoman didn’t know why.
She had no choice but to stop too, blinking at her in confusion.
Chen Tong touched her face.
Her fingertips were slightly cool.
But after she touched her, they both stood there for a long time.
Chi Xiaoman lowered her eyes and curled her fingers.
Chen Tong withdrew her hand, gave her a faint smile, and said, “No rush. The crew hasn’t said yet.”
“Then if the crew says so, you have to go back.” Chi Xiaoman said with great effort.
“You also have to book your plane ticket in time. Otherwise tickets are hard to get during this period, and they’re expensive too.”
“Okay.” Chen Tong said, stepping through the snow.
She agreed very naturally.
Chi Xiaoman let out a breath.
No matter what, the situation had developed to this point entirely because of Chi Xiaoman alone; it had nothing to do with Chen Tong, and there was no need for her to bear any responsibility for it.
The underground parking garage in winter was bone-chillingly cold.
These past few days, Chi Xiaoman herself had rarely had time to come back, and she hadn’t had time to clean either, so a lot of things were piled in a mess. In the pale winter light, the whole rental apartment looked gray and drab.
That morning.
They fetched hot water together from upstairs.
They cleaned for a long time.
Only then did they barely restore the rental apartment to the way it had looked before Chen Tong left.
Afterward.
Chi Xiaoman didn’t feel very well, so while Chen Tong was tidying the blankets, she ran outside and secretly vomited the half bowl of noodles she’d eaten into the trash can.
After throwing up, she weakly braced herself against a utility pole and suddenly looked up, only to see Lang Lang’s place on the second floor—
The window was tightly shut.
No one had cleaned here these past few days either; a thick layer of dust had built up on the glass.
Chi Xiaoman stared at that dusty window for a long time, then wiped her eyes.
Suddenly she picked up a stone from the ground.
And hurled it hard at the window—
The frame rang out with a clatter.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds...
Chi Xiaoman strained to tilt her head up, keeping her eyes open and refusing to close them. She held that posture for a full minute; her eyes hurt and stung badly, and her raised neck had gone stiff and uncomfortable, but she still refused to look down.
An electric scooter passed by her, kicking up clumps of snow that struck her calf. Cold stabbed into her bones.
She stared fixedly at the shut window, her eyes slowly reddening, and only then did she truly, clearly understand—inside that little window, there would never again be a pale-faced woman with corn-silk hair leaning out to shout at her,
“Chi Xiaoman, if you’ve got something to say, just say it! Stop smashing my window all day long, okay!”
There would never be again.
Chi Xiaoman covered her eyes with the back of her hand and slowly crouched down by the roadside. The wind blew her red strands up, cutting painfully across her face. She was like a dragon fruit split open by a knife, with painful red liquid flowing from inside her body.
But she understood that she couldn’t cry for too long.
Because Chen Tong was still waiting for her.
She couldn’t...
She couldn’t make Chen Tong, who had rushed back, worry about her too much. Because all of this had nothing to do with Chen Tong. Chen Tong did not need to bear her pain. What she had seen with her own eyes must never be seen by Chen Tong.
She couldn’t make sense of why Lang Lang had suddenly... suddenly become the dead person the police spoke of, and she couldn’t understand... why the police would say Lang Lang had killed herself.
She didn’t know whether this had anything to do with her.
She didn’t know whether it was because she had lied and said there was a Rainbow Sister in this world, and Lang Lang found out. She didn’t know whether it was because she had called Wang Aimei to borrow money and Lang Lang overheard. She didn’t know whether it was because she hadn’t hidden the ledger well and Lang Lang saw it...
If, if it was really because she hadn’t done enough, then what should she do?
If it really was.
Really because of her.
What should she do now?
Would someone tell her what to do?
The snow was cold. Crouched by the roadside, Chi Xiaoman cried so hard she could barely breathe, over and over asking herself whether she had ever noticed something was wrong with Lang Lang.
Had she vaguely sensed it and, realizing she couldn’t face it, fled in haste? Or had she truly not noticed a single thing wrong at all? If it was the former, why had she never thought about this outcome? If it was the latter, how could she have been so stupid as to feel nothing?
Chi Xiaoman covered her face, feeling as though her chest had been twisted tight, and cried in agony.
No one knew how much time passed.
Someone appeared behind her.
It was as if she were looking at her; it was also as if she were surrounding her.
She crouched down and held her. She also pressed her face close to Chi Xiaoman’s as hard as she could, warming her.
Chi Xiaoman let out a voiceless wail, turned her head, and clung to Chen Tong like a drowning person embracing the only life preserver willing to be held, sobbing as she cried, “Sister Chen Tong, Lang Lang... Lang Lang, she’s actually really afraid of pain.”
“She...”
Chi Xiaoman couldn’t go on.
Tears streamed down between them, filling the gaps. Hot, scalding, slowly turning cold, turning stiff.
Chen Tong held Chi Xiaoman tightly. She seemed to be crying too, tears falling in large amounts. She crouched by the roadside; she seemed cold too, but still bent over in hardship, using all her strength to hold Chi Xiaoman close, calling her “Xiaoman,” and saying again and again with great effort,
“It’s okay. We’ll be okay.”
-
The night ended with their tears gathered together.
Chi Xiaoman cried until she was exhausted.
In Chen Tong’s memory, she had never cried like this before.
From the moment they met, Chi Xiaoman had seemed born with summer’s colors engraved into her, forever bright, forever positive. Even when she occasionally couldn’t hold back her tears, she would only let her eyes fill a little and wipe them away immediately. Even then, she still looked very cute.
But that night.
She cried so hard it was as if there was no extra liquid left in her body to squeeze out, yet the pain still wouldn’t go away, so only something dry and bitter could keep flowing out.
In the end, she lay curled in the corner of the bed, holding her knees, eyes closed. She looked asleep, or perhaps was only keeping her eyes closed to stay silent.
They had only been apart for one or two months.
Yet she already looked much thinner. When she bent her back, her spine stood out, like a fish freshly split open.
Chen Tong did not sleep.
She held Chi Xiaoman, who was trying hard to curl herself up, covered her with the blanket, patted her back, and repeatedly wiped away the tears that still flowed even with her eyes closed.
Their phones were both placed on that little counter; one was a tiny button phone with a broken screen. The other was Chen Tong’s.
The broken-screen phone never lit up once. Chen Tong’s phone lit up again and again.
Chi Xiaoman probably noticed. She struggled to open her eyes and asked, “Sister Chen Tong, is someone looking for you?”
“Mm. My mom.” Chen Tong held her quietly from behind. “She asked why I’m not going back for the New Year.”
“Then do you... do you need to go back?” Chi Xiaoman asked with difficulty.
“No.” Chen Tong said simply.
Chi Xiaoman was silent.
“I’ll spend next year’s New Year with her instead.” Chen Tong said this.
Chi Xiaoman said nothing.
The winter night was icy and biting. They held each other for a long time, but neither of them warmed up.
After a while.
Chi Xiaoman struggled to turn around, and with difficulty opened her eyes, looking at Chen Tong for a while.
Chen Tong touched her forehead and frowned. “Xiaoman, are you running a bit of a fever?”
Chi Xiaoman didn’t speak; she stared blankly at Chen Tong in the dim light.
“Xiaoman?” Chen Tong called again.
Chi Xiaoman suddenly leaned in and very lightly, very carefully kissed her lips.
A cold, bitter kiss.
It was completely unimaginable at a time like this. And yet, at a time like this, it seemed as though only something like this could be done.
Chen Tong couldn’t refuse. She returned Chi Xiaoman’s kiss and held her even tighter.
She had thought it was just a simple kiss.
But Chi Xiaoman didn’t stop there.
She began taking off her clothes, one layer after another. Then, like a very cold snowman, she shrank into Chen Tong’s arms.
Chen Tong was afraid she would get sick and blocked her hands from taking anything else off. “Xiaoman.”
Chi Xiaoman said nothing.
In the murky light, she looked at Chen Tong with wet eyes, and let her own slender wrist be held in the palm of that hand.
After a few seconds, she leaned in again, kissing her lips clumsily, and worked hard to press herself into Chen Tong’s embrace.
The tears at the corners of her eyes fell bitterly onto her lips.
One drop.
Two drops.
Then, in the intimate and sweet kisses, they gradually faded away.
Chen Tong was afraid Chi Xiaoman would be cold, so she had no choice but to hold her tightly.
The phone on the bedside table lit up over and over again, illuminating this small, empty, cold room again and again.
At last it exhausted its battery and silently powered off.
-
When she woke again, it was already New Year’s Eve.
Chi Xiaoman didn’t know whether she had slept or whether this even counted as waking.
At that moment, her eyes hurt terribly.
Her body hurt too.
It was as if every joint had been taken apart and then put back together again that night.
She had become someone reconstructed from black river water and white snow; someone had taken out her happiness, optimism, and joy, and filled her body with confusion, panic, regret, and despair. She didn’t know what was happening now.
But later she gradually understood that growing up was like this; there would be a moment when you suddenly realized that many things you had tried your hardest to keep could not, in the end, be kept.
In her dazed state.
Chi Xiaoman forced her eyes open and suddenly felt that this place was so strange, not warm at all; it looked so cold.
She parted her lips.
She wanted to call Chen Tong.
But no sound came out.
Afraid Chen Tong wasn’t here at all.
And afraid... that Chen Tong really was here.
She held herself in a daze, realizing she had already been put into thick clothes, and in the blur she saw Chen Tong standing by that blue sofa—
Clearly there was a soft sofa right there, the only thing in this rental apartment that looked even slightly suited to her. But for some reason, Chen Tong didn’t sit down. She just stood alone beside it, listening on the phone, the hem of her clothes hanging down and slowly, quietly brushing against the sofa’s edge.
Her voice was very low as she spoke into the phone.
Every word she said was blurry.
Chi Xiaoman was dizzy and couldn’t make out what she was saying, but she very much wanted to go over and hug her.
So she worked hard to sit up.
But she didn’t have much strength to get out of bed.
Holding the blanket, she sat dazedly by the bed and stared at Chen Tong’s blurry silhouette in a daze—
Not for long.
Chen Tong seemed to sense her gaze keenly, looked over, and then quickly lowered her eyes, covering the mouthpiece as she said to the other side, “I’ll talk later.”
She hung up.
She walked over to Chi Xiaoman, sat beside the bed, close to her, yet her shadow still seemed far away.
She touched Chi Xiaoman’s forehead and frowned. “Do you feel any better today?”
Chi Xiaoman looked at her without speaking.
Chen Tong was still wearing yesterday’s coat and hadn’t tied her scarf. Her exposed neck was very white and slender. She was still wearing that black-rimmed pair of glasses, her skin pale and clean.
Behind her was the dim, unlit rental apartment; the blue sofa no one dared sit on anymore; the old, cluttered furniture piled up in a mess; the yellowed walls; the old floor tiles that had been scrubbed many times yesterday but were still dirty in the cracks.
Chen Tong suddenly reached out and touched Chi Xiaoman’s face, asking in an even voice,
“What are you thinking about?”
Chi Xiaoman rubbed her chin and said slowly, “Thinking about you.”
“Thinking about me?”
Chen Tong froze for a moment, then smiled at her. “I’m right in front of you. What’s there to think about?”
“I don’t know.” Chi Xiaoman shook her head.
Then she stretched out her arms, a little stiffly.
“Sister Chen Tong, can you hug me?”
Chen Tong looked at her for a while. It seemed she felt Chi Xiaoman’s condition was very bad and wanted to say something to her. But in the end she said nothing. She simply came over and hugged her, patting her back while saying softly,
“Don’t overthink it.”
Chi Xiaoman buried her face in her shoulder. Maybe after going to Hong Kong, Chen Tong had stopped using the body wash and shampoo they had often used before. The scent was a little different too.
Then Chi Xiaoman suddenly understood something: maybe no matter how long she held her, she would no longer be able to find the familiar smell on her.
But she still held on tightly, and she still told Chen Tong,
“Okay.”
The embrace lasted a very long time. Longer than summer. Would it also be longer than winter?
Chi Xiaoman thought this.
But she didn’t ask, and she didn’t tell Chen Tong that there was a photo in her phone of Lang Lang falling, that she had seen Lang Lang smash down right in front of her, that she had lied and told Lang Lang there was a Rainbow Sister in this world, that Lang Lang had found out about her borrowing money... that she might have had a very large part in Lang Lang’s death.
Just as she did not tell Chen Tong that last night she had suddenly leaned in and kissed her, and now she was suddenly holding her so tightly; that just now, seeing Chen Tong standing by the blue sofa lost in thought, seeing how out of place Chen Tong looked in this environment...
In truth, every single moment she stared at her in a daze, she was thinking the same thing: Chen Tong probably shouldn’t be here anymore. Chen Tong, it seemed, had never belonged here.
Chi Xiaoman didn’t say that.
Because she still wanted to be held so tightly by her like this. She longed to be able to kiss her lips whenever she wanted; to truly touch her hair; to hear her use that soft voice call her “Xiaoman” a few more times...
If that was the case, then even if one day the summer scent on Chen Tong grew fainter and fainter, even if the scent on Chen Tong became more and more unfamiliar, even if Chen Tong was destined in the future to fly to a place Chi Xiaoman couldn’t even reach on tiptoe...
It seemed like it had nothing to do with the present.
The embrace went on for a long time.
Chi Xiaoman lay half on Chen Tong’s shoulder and clumsily rubbed her face against Chen Tong’s face, feeling Chen Tong’s soft cheek pressed tightly against her skin.
She let out a shaky breath, then like a kitten, nuzzled the woman’s falling black straight hair and called in a very small voice, “Sister Chen Tong.”
“Mm?” Chen Tong answered after a pause, then hugged her even tighter. “What is it?”
Chi Xiaoman shook her head and said nothing, only tightened her hold on Chen Tong even more than before.
[Author’s Note]
Updated Little Neon on time for the fifty-eighth day [sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses][sunglasses]