Hot, soft lips and scorching breath.
It was hard to say whose lips moved in first.
They drew close until their breaths mingled, two parched and eager lips finally meeting the shore they craved. A gentle touch, then a parting. Another touch, another parting. Each brush stoking the wild heat surging through Li Xia’s body.
And Li Xia took the bait, willingly.
She could feel it—the man she liked had hot, soft lips and scorching breath.
That breath, restrained, brushed her nose as he tentatively expanded the territory of their grinding lips.
From light pecks to shallow sucks, until their lips fully pressed together, twisting in heat, in passion. The hand that hadn’t been holding hers now slid to her back, cupping her flushed neck. It burned there, and he seemed to rub it deliberately.
An electric jolt shot through Li Xia’s back and heart.
She had held her breath too long from nerves, and when her chest felt full to bursting, she realized she was short of air. She pushed at Fang Zeqing’s shoulder, desperate for a deep breath. He pulled back slightly. But after a few seconds of gasping, her mouth was parched.
When she looked up, the screen’s glow magnified a glistening trace of moisture on Fang Zeqing’s lips.
Hers.
Li Xia’s head swam in a dizzy heat.
Her first instinct was to reach up and wipe it away for him.
And so they kissed again.
…
Their first kiss, and neither was very skilled.
But because it was with someone she liked, Li Xia found the experience wonderful. In the moments when dopamine screamed in her brain, when she felt that raw physical pull, she understood the saying—
No technique, just feeling.
Kissing for so long was hard to end. Li Xia finally pulled back with a soft gasp, creating some distance. Fang Zeqing seemed reluctant, reaching to draw her back in. But just as he opened his mouth to speak, his phone chimed with several messages. When he didn’t reply, a call came through.
The ringtone snapped Li Xia back to herself a little. She pushed at him. “Go answer it.”
When he didn’t move, she pinched his cheek. Fang Zeqing took the chance to nuzzle his face into her palm. “Got it.”
He got up to grab his phone. Li Xia stayed on the sofa, steadying her racing heart. She watched him frown at the screen, then pause by the sofa to tell her to wait a moment before hurrying out to the balcony. She couldn’t hear what he said, only glimpsed his figure moving in the night through the glass.
She watched intently for a few seconds.
Thinking of their kiss, she pressed an ice-cold glass of water to her cheek.
After a few minutes with no sign of him, Li Xia grew bored nibbling on fruit. The documentary on the projector had ended and paused. She picked up the remote and scrolled through the folder, marveling at how hard he’d worked all these years. Finally, she selected the most recent one, titled Tide, marked “Cannes entry.” Curious, she hit play.
Just then, the glass door slid open. A breeze swept in, chilling her skin and clearing the haze from her head. That’s when she noticed something was off with Fang Zeqing because of that call.
He grabbed the remote first and abruptly paused the film. Under her surprised gaze, he sat down. “Li Xia, let’s watch something else.”
No discussion, no asking permission—he just hit play on another one.
Li Xia blinked in stunned silence. “Why?”
Now she saw a calm on his face utterly unlike before, leaving her at a loss.
He stared motionlessly at the screen, not really seeing it.
His tone was flat. “It’s boring.”
Then, as if realizing something, he reached for her hand and explained in a rush, “No, I mean, that one you just started is pretty dull. I didn’t want you getting into it and wasting your time…”
“Fang Zeqing.”
Li Xia called his name firmly, catching the way he averted his eyes, her words resolute.
“I told you, I won’t think your work is bad. Or boring.”
“I know.”
“So why won’t you let me watch it?”
She wanted the truth. She wanted to know where this low self-worth came from—why something he loved, something he’d poured his heart into, became “boring” or a “waste of time” in his mouth.
In a way, she and Fang Zeqing were the same, both creators. She made books, pouring her soul into them too. So Li Xia never called her work boring, even if it was dry—it had its value.
She knew exactly how much inner turmoil and dejection that kind of self-denial caused.
Existentialism and nihilism both said human existence was meaningless, a void. And yet we still worked, still lived. So often, people survived on sheer spirit, on some goal, some passion, or just the sun that day.
Even that tangled tape in his world, broken and off-key, Li Xia wanted to hear it.
But he said nothing.
Finally, under her steady gaze, he hesitated and spoke.
“I don’t know how to explain it, Li Xia.”
His voice sounded rain-soaked.
Li Xia asked softly, “Was that call bad news?”
“…”
“Yeah.”
She ventured, “Do you want to talk about it?”
Ten seconds of silence. Fang Zeqing met her eyes.
Li Xia grew anxious. “It might help to get it out. I’ll be a great listener.”
But time stretched quiet.
He said, “I’m sorry.”
–
Leaving Fang Zeqing’s place, Li Xia hailed a cab. She’d planned to walk, but some annoying ghost trailed her. When she headed to the hotel, he got in too, hovering and asking if she was mad.
Li Xia was fed up.
She whipped around and tossed back one word: “Yes.”
Her feet flew, her mouth running like a speeding train—
“Yeah, I’m mad. Can’t you tell?”
“You said we should be more real. Are you?”
“And asking if I’m mad? You guys are so weird. You have eyes but don’t look, mouths but don’t sweet-talk—just endless questions. What, does pissing people off make you happy?”
…
Until they stood at the hotel entrance.
She turned. Fang Zeqing stopped, looking at her.
Face-to-face like that first night, when he’d reached out and said, “From now on, let’s be real.” The moment their hands clasped, Li Xia could never forget the thrill in her heart.
Now, she frowned in warning. “I’m not letting you in my room.”
“I know.”
“So we’re done here.”
She glanced at Fang Zeqing. “I’m heading up.”
As she turned, her wrist was caught in a swift grip. He asked urgently, “Li Xia, what do you mean ‘done here’?”
Maybe because he’d chased her so long, the night wind had tousled the hair over his forehead, making the anxiety in his eyes stand out.
Li Xia said calmly, “I mean go home first.”
“And I think we both need to cool off.”
To think calmly about what came next.
Li Xia wanted to say she was leaving the day after tomorrow. But for some reason, the words stuck in her throat.
Fang Zeqing stepped closer.
She looked down, avoiding his gaze, but didn’t pull her hand away.
Through the wind, she heard a short sigh before he spoke. “I’ve been thinking the whole way—I really don’t have your decisiveness or courage. Your happiness and anger are so direct, so cute. It makes me seem petty.”
“But Li Xia, I do want to be honest with you. When you asked, I didn’t know where to start. Those stories, good and bad, are too long. I just needed a moment to figure out how to tell them. But I admit, switching the film was wrong. I’m sorry.”
Li Xia looked up sharply.
“I might not be as direct as you, able to say so much with words. Face-to-face, I can’t always do it. So, can you let me tell you my way?”
He was so gentle. Li Xia’s heart ached.
She’d been too pushy, too eager to know him without considering his feelings.
Fang Zeqing squeezed her hand, waiting.
Li Xia nodded.
The next morning, half-asleep, she heard a soft knock. Her phone buzzed with a message from F: 【Your favorite breakfast is hanging outside the door】
【Good news: A client wants me to make a film】
【Bad news: Starting today】
【Can’t hang out again】
【Making it up tomorrow】
Li Xia smiled under the covers and sprang out of bed to grab what was hanging outside.
As expected, besides breakfast, there was a card tied to a small bunch of white roses.
Heart pounding, she opened it. In that moment of reading his heart, her hands trembled slightly—
“Li Xia,
First, thank you for accepting my old-fashioned, avoidant way of communicating. Writing you this letter makes me nervous. Inviting you to watch my work made me nervous too. You had no idea.
I’m scared that after you see it, you’ll think I’m nothing special. Scared these days with me are just novelty, and you’ll find out I’m boring. Scared you’ll know me, scared you won’t.
Yesterday’s call—my friend said the Cannes entry probably won’t make the main competition. How could I tell you that? That I’d slaved so hard and failed?
—
“You’re like this now. I was afraid that if I’d told you back then, you’d look down on me—or even immediately regret kissing me.”
As Li Xia read on, she suddenly burst out laughing, though her eyes grew sour again.
Her throat felt clogged. She took a moment to compose herself before continuing.
“There are also some personal reasons on my end, involving family matters. That’s why I hesitated even more. But looking back now, there’s nothing I can’t say. It’s just a long story. Do you want to hear it? We still have time.
It’s a pity—if not for my willful mood, last night’s kiss might have left a better memory.
Li Xia, don’t be mad at me.”
Standing by the window and facing the sunlight, Li Xia finished reading these words. Her whole body felt warm and cozy. He seemed to have written with great sincerity, pondering for a long time—each character penetrating straight through the paper.
Li Xia thought about how she and Fang Zeqing had met at the temple.
It must have been the Bodhisattva working her magic.
The Bodhisattva had screened out a truly wonderful person just for her, someone to appear by her side.
She was about to leave Nanlin.
But she didn’t want to leave Fang Zeqing.
–
The day before her departure, Li Xia didn’t forget the original reason she’d come to Nanlin in the first place. She brought gifts and went to visit her friend Lin Hong. After taking a cab to the villa district in Jiangnan and walking a short distance, Li Xia pushed open the low wooden gate to the courtyard.
It had been a full year since her last visit. The garden in the courtyard had expanded, now even lusher and more vibrant, with flowers, plants, and trees in full, riotous bloom. The sight lifted her spirits. Lin Hong spotted her through the floor-to-ceiling windows and hurried out the door to greet her. A lively Border Collie trailed behind.
The little dog came bounding toward her, barking the whole way, while Lin Hong wore a comfortable cotton-linen dress that perfectly suited the idyllic surroundings.
She came forward warmly. “Xia Xia! You finally remembered to visit this poor lonely old lady.”
Li Xia laughed heartily. “With your yard full of treasures, how could you be lonely?”
She gave Lin Hong another look. “What old lady? When you stepped out just now, I thought you were some young girl.”
“Hahaha.”
The Border Collie’s tail wagged furiously. It tried to leap at Li Xia’s skirt, but Lin Hong patted it down.
The two women chatted animatedly. Lin Hong asked, “Why’d you bring gifts?”
“Of course I did. You sent me all those local specialties—my colleagues all got to share in them thanks to me. This is just a little something in return, to show my appreciation. Don’t turn it down, Sister Hong.”
“Turn it down? I’m delighted!”
The little dog kept circling at their feet. Li Xia squatted down to pet it. “You’ve got a dog now, Sister Hong?”
“My son does.”
Lin Xu?
The question popped into Li Xia’s mind.
“Come on, come on—don’t just stand there. Let’s go inside.” Lin Hong bent down and patted the dog’s head. “Melon Seed, quit your barking. We’ve got a new guest today. Be polite and well-behaved, you hear?”
In that instant, Li Xia froze in place. She was sure she’d misheard.
“Sister Hong, what’s your little dog’s name?”
“Melon Seed.” Lin Hong turned back with a smile. “My son named it. I usually call it Little Melon. Haha.”
“…”
“Come on in.” Lin Hong beckoned her twice before Li Xia finally stirred herself to move.
Li Xia was so stunned that words failed her. She spent ages organizing her thoughts, twirling the teacup in her hand several times, before she managed to ask, “So… you have two sons?”
“That’s right.” Lin Hong nodded.
“Lin Xu is the eldest, and there’s a younger one.”
Li Xia felt dazed. “Does that younger son… have the surname Lin too?”
“How could he?” Lin Hong burst out laughing. “Now that’s a long story.”
Lin Hong explained that back when they got married, her husband had wanted two children. She had agreed, but only on the condition that one of them took her surname.
“In those days, it was rare for the firstborn—and a boy at that—to take his mother’s surname. But I insisted. Why should I go through the trouble of bearing two kids if both had to take his family name? What was in it for me? I fought for it, and I fought hard—for the eldest to take my name. You have no idea the uproar it caused. In the end, the younger son took his father’s surname.”
Lin Hong spoke of it with carefree pride, and Li Xia admired her deeply.
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention the younger son much.”
“He’s the artistic type—pretty introverted, not a bit like me. He even had a big falling-out with the family over this for a while.”
Li Xia’s heart raced as she hurried to confirm her suspicion. “So… what’s your younger son’s surname?”
Lin Hong said, “Fang.”