Zhao Yue, thirty-five and single, treated Chen Ling like half her own son.
That year, Chen Ling had just been taken from the orphanage to the Chen family, wearing clothes too small for him, standing in the living room with a mature expression beyond his years.
He was unusually independent, never asking for help.
The only time he contacted her was to ask if she could be the manager of their band, named "Apple Core."
Zhao Yue happily agreed. She keenly noticed Chen Ling's musical talent and encouraged him to sell the songs he wrote, earning some copyright fees.
At the time, a wildly popular martial arts drama's original soundtrack was composed by him.
Zhao Yue was on a date with her boyfriend and couldn't talk much, so she transferred sixty thousand to Chen Ling's account. She messaged him on WeChat:
—Don't waste it, brat. The rest, with interest, will be returned when you go to college.
—I'll be back in a month. Prepare to get beaten.
She took it upon herself to become the new guardian of the "parentless" Chen Ling.
In the afternoon, Chen Ling went to the mall to buy flowers.
The flower shop on the first floor was crowded, mostly with young girls, some holding light-up signs.
They were screaming around a stage, pushing Chen Ling to the side.
Chen Ling had no choice but to circle around to the second floor and exit through another door.
On the way, he passed by a newly opened dance studio, its decor matching the stage style.
A group of young people in hoodies and baggy pants stood at the entrance, seemingly all dancers, discussing the performer on the stage.
"Calling this guy over was the right move."
"Damn, he's really blowing up!"
Chen Ling ignored them, took the elevator down, bought the flowers, and went home.
Today, Yaxi went to see the doctor and would be back by seven.
He started cooking at five.
After finishing the meal, he began to wait, watching the minute hand circle countless times, flipping through one hundred and six pages of The Origin and Destiny of the Universe.
Finally, the sound of the door opening came. Chen Ling sat on the sofa, not going to the door to greet her as usual.
"Sorry, I'm over two hours late," Yaxi said as she walked into the small living room, taking off her coat.
Chen Ling put down the book, his voice emotionless. "I'll heat up the food."
Yaxi glanced at the dining table. The food was cold, untouched.
"Are you mad?" she softened her tone. She had deliberately not messaged him, deliberately made him wait.
Little did she know he wouldn't even take a bite of the food.
She then smiled and walked over to him, straddling his lap and wrapping her arms around his neck. "I haven't eaten either. I was waiting for your cooking. Aren't I good? Don't you believe me? Feel it?"
Yaxi pretended to guide his hand to her stomach, finally making Chen Ling laugh.
As they tussled, Chen Ling caught a glimpse of the scattered red marks beneath her collar.
Actually, they weren't exactly scattered—there were three in total.
One on her shoulder, one on her collarbone, and one in the hollow of her neck, varying in size and shape.
They stung his eyes.
Clearly, they were hickeys—intense hickeys.
He couldn't think of anyone else but Lu Ziyang.
The smile in Chen Ling's eyes faded, and his body ached again.
He grabbed Yaxi's mischievous hand.
"What's wrong?" Yaxi looked at him.
"Nothing," Chen Ling turned his head away. "Go get ready. I'll heat up the food."
At night, after Yaxi finished her shower, Chen Ling entered the bathroom.
He had just taken off his shirt when he noticed a white, lacy item thrown into the trash can.
Instantly, he thought of the hickeys on Yaxi's neck. He picked it up with a tissue, examining it.
It was a white lace bodysuit, not a thong, but with a hole in the crotch, just the size of a penis.
Suddenly, the world seemed to spin.
His head felt dizzy, and his heart felt as if a thin needle had been inserted—once in, it disappeared.
Only a lingering, faint pain remained, gripping his nerves and making his entire body ache.
After his shower, while Yaxi wasn't looking, Chen Ling took the bouquet of flowers from the room to the bathroom and cut them into pieces with scissors.
The white flower fragments were all flushed down the toilet, swirling with the water before disappearing.