We're both adults

The taxi wound through the night in Deep City.

Streetlights swept past the windows one after another, their orange glow flickering through the cab like frames rolling through an old film.

Zhang Xiu'e leaned against Chen Yuan's chest, her hair loose, a few cool strands draped over his arm.

Her hand rested on her chest, rising and falling with her breathing. Every so often, she mumbled something indistinct, as though she were arguing with someone or coaxing them.

Chen Yuan couldn't make out what Sister Ezi was saying. All he could smell was the strong mix of alcohol and perfume on her.

The car suddenly jolted.

Zhang Xiu'e swayed with it and slipped down a little. Chen Yuan quickly reached out to steady her shoulder.

Zhang Xiu'e murmured, nuzzled deeper into his chest, and settled into a comfortable position before going still.

Chen Yuan glanced down. Her shirt collar hung open, and from his angle, he could see a stretch of snow-white skin and the deep cleavage below her collarbones, pressed together by the fabric and gently rising and falling with her breathing.

Light streamed through the window, casting a warm yellow glow over skin as fine and smooth as exquisite porcelain.

As though he'd been burned, Chen Yuan hurriedly looked away and fixed his eyes on the view outside.

The streets raced backward, neon lights, signs, and roadside trees blurring into a ribbon of color.

His heartbeat pounded in his ears like a drum.

He shifted a little farther away, trying to put some distance between himself and Zhang Xiu'e, but the taxi's back seat was only so wide. Any farther and he'd be pressed against the door.

The car stopped at the entrance to the residential complex.

Chen Yuan paid, pushed open the door, and eased Zhang Xiu'e's legs out first. Then he turned around and crouched, draped her arms over his shoulders, and supported her thighs with both hands, giving her a little hitch upward.

Zhang Xiu'e lay limply against his back. The softness of her chest pressed against him through two thin layers of clothing, bouncing with his steps and rubbing against his back again and again.

Chen Yuan's steps faltered. Walking faster felt wrong, and so did walking slower.

He took a deep breath and straightened his back, keeping his eyes on the building entrance, afraid to look down or let his thoughts wander.

The stairwell lights were sound-activated. At every floor, Chen Yuan had to stamp his foot to make the bulb flick on, spilling stark white light over the dingy walls.

He climbed floor after floor, his breathing growing heavier—not from exhaustion, but from nerves.

At the door, Chen Yuan freed one hand to search for the key. It took several tries to fish it out, then two turns in the lock before he managed to open it.

He pushed the door open. The apartment was pitch-black, the curtains drawn, with only a faint glow seeping in from the distant streetlights outside.

He hitched Zhang Xiu'e a little higher and felt his way inside.

The apartment was quiet except for their breathing—his quick, hers long and even.

The bedroom door was open. Chen Yuan carried Zhang Xiu'e inside, walked to the bed, bent over, and slowly lowered her onto it.

Chen Yuan bent down and lifted a corner of the blanket to cover Zhang Xiu'e. Just as he pulled it up to her chest, she suddenly opened her eyes.

Her eyes were hazy, as though veiled in mist, but the light filtering in from outside reflected in her pupils, making them startlingly bright.

Zhang Xiu'e stared blankly at Chen Yuan for a couple of seconds, seeming to recognize him and yet not quite. Then she reached out and threw her arms around his neck.

Chen Yuan froze.

Zhang Xiu'e's arms were soft, but her hold was tight as she pulled him down hard. Before Chen Yuan could react, her lips were already pressed against his.

Warm, soft, and tasting of alcohol.

Chen Yuan's mind went utterly blank, as though someone had set off a firework in his consciousness, filling the sky with sparks and blasting every thought away.

The next morning, sunlight woke Chen Yuan.

The curtains weren't fully closed. A shaft of sunlight squeezed through the gap and fell right across his face.

Chen Yuan squinted and rolled over. The moment his arm brushed something soft, he jolted awake.

He opened his eyes and found Sister Ezi lying on her side beside him, her head propped on one hand as she looked down at him.

She wore a camisole, one strap slipping down to leave part of her shoulder bare.

An explosion went off in Chen Yuan's head!

Last night's events replayed in his mind like a movie—her arms around his neck, her lips pressing against his...

Chen Yuan opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat was as dry as sandpaper. He couldn't force out a single word.

He didn't know where to look. Looking at her felt wrong, but so did looking away. Beneath the blanket, his hands gripped the bedsheet until his knuckles turned white.

Seeing him like that, Zhang Xiu'e burst into a little laugh.

She reached out and pressed a finger to his lips.

"You don't have to explain anything."

Zhang Xiu'e's voice was a little husky, as though her throat hadn't quite woken up yet. "We're both adults. Don't let it weigh on you."

Chen Yuan lay there stunned, the warmth of her fingertip still lingering on his lips.

Zhang Xiu'e withdrew her hand and watched him with her head propped up.

"I'm twenty-five this year. If anything, I got the better end of the deal."

With that, Zhang Xiu'e threw back the blanket and sat up with her back to Chen Yuan.

The camisole hung loosely on her, exposing a broad stretch of snow-white back.

She bent down to pick her clothes up off the floor and put them on without hurrying.

"You should go start work at Chen Desheng's today."

Zhang Xiu'e spoke without turning around, her tone betraying no emotion.

"He gave you a job. Don't put it off too long."

Chen Yuan sat on the bed with the blanket pooled around his waist, watching her dress. Something seemed to lodge in his chest, a feeling he couldn't put into words.

He wanted to say something, but the same few phrases kept turning over in his mind: About last night. I'm sorry. I'll take responsibility.

But after opening his mouth several times, he finally managed only one word:

"Okay."

Zhang Xiu'e stood, tucked the hem of her shirt into her skirt, and gave her clothes another tug. Then she turned around with a smile.

"There's bread in the fridge. Heat some up yourself. I'm heading to work. It's my first official day, so I can't be late."

She walked to the door, her gait a little awkward, and braced herself against the doorframe as she bent to put on her shoes. Once they were on, she straightened and glanced back at him before opening the door and leaving.

Chen Yuan sat on the bed, dazed for a long while.

He suddenly noticed a slight pain in his chest. Looking down, he found several red marks left by fingernails.

Chen Yuan threw back the blanket and got up, accidentally catching sight of a small dark-red stain on the bedsheet. It had already dried stiff, its edges slightly brown.

He sat on the edge of the bed, staring at that little stain, and didn't move for a long time.