A Short Story Collection with Non-Human Protagonists - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: The Truth and the Kiss by the River

Tang Yanqing dropped Lu Xiaokui off at the subway station. “There’s no Rainy Night Killer anymore. Go back by yourself.”

“What about you? Where are you going?” Lu Xiaokui asked.

“…Home.”

The roaring engine carried Tang Yanqing across the early summer landscape. She searched the study for nearly an hour before finally flipping through a corner of the bookshelf and finding the medical record she was looking for.

On the yellowed cover were several rows of neat, elegant fountain pen characters. Her grandfather’s handwriting.

Medical Record Patient Name: Liu Jin

Initial Consultation: October 23, 1992

Primary Complaint: Chest tightness, shortness of breath, cold extremities, occasional brief fainting spells.

Pulse: The Cun, Guan, and Chi positions are deep and stagnant; it scatters under heavy pressure and feels like a floating thread under light touch.

Tongue Diagnosis: Pale tongue body, thin coating, stagnation of fluids.

Prescription: Prepared Aconite 12g, Cinnamon Twig 9g, moxibustion on Shenque and Guanyuan points.

Note: Recommended cranial CT to rule out pituitary tumor; patient refused.

Follow-up: January 11, 1993

Symptoms: Deep and stagnant pulse intensified; sudden hematemesis (vomiting blood).

Treatment: Urgent acupuncture at Neiguan and Shanzhong; decoction of Sanqi powder and blasted ginger charcoal.

Outcome: Vomiting stopped, pulse returned to deep and stagnant, face white as paper, but patient claims to be fine.

Note: Energy scatters like smoke, then regathers as normal. Contrary to medical logic.

It seemed her grandfather had faced the same confusion she had. Tang Yanqing flipped forward another dozen pages.

Liu Jin came to the clinic for medicine from time to time, consistent with Tang Yanqing’s memory. According to the records, her symptoms were mostly the same each time, only the intervals between them grew shorter.

Until the final page.

…September 5, 1999

Incident: Comatose for half a day, body temperature dropped, breathing shallow and slow, limbs stiff and cold.

Finding: Center of the chest slightly warm, nail beds of all ten fingers showing cyanosis (purple tint); however, after waking half a day later, the cyanosis vanished completely.

Conclusion: Sudden depletion of Qi and Blood followed by self-recovery. Advised rest; avoid mental strain.

Beyond that, all subsequent records had been torn out from the root. Tang Yanqing found a pencil and lightly shaded the kraft paper of the back cover until intermittent handwriting surfaced on the page.

…August 19, 2015

Symptoms: …Pulse scattered…

Instructions: Stop Aconite… Cold poison cannot be cured; this condition is not something human power can resolve…

Note: …

Her grandfather had written many words here, only to scribble them out again and again. In the end, only one sentence remained:

— “Neither living nor dead, neither ill nor healthy. Nor is she human… treat her as an ordinary person nonetheless.”

Tang Yanqing’s heartbeat skipped a beat. So, her grandfather had known the truth all along.

But a second later, her heart settled firmly back into her chest. This matter indeed could not be explained by the materialistic worldview she had grown up with. But Liu Jin was Liu Jin. Whether she was human or not—did it really matter?

Tang Yanqing put the record back on the shelf and headed out.

When her motorcycle reached Pagoda Tree Alley, the sky was just beginning to darken. For the first time, Tang Yanqing felt the inn possessed a touch of eerie atmosphere.

The quaint courtyard, the vermilion lanterns hanging under the eaves—every time they swayed in the wind, they moved her shadow. It truly looked like the kind of place from stories where one would encounter a Lady Fox Immortal amidst the shifting morning mists.

Tang Yanqing looked around but did not see Liu Jin. Grandma Gu was tending to two new guests, poking her head out from the second floor: “Aqing, are you looking for Xiaokui? She isn’t back yet.”

She shook her head. “I’m looking for Auntie Liu.”

“Nothing urgent, I hope? Miss went for a walk by the river. Let me pour you a cup of tea, sit for a while.”

“No need, I’ll find her by the river,” Tang Yanqing said quickly. She was in a hurry.

A few steps out of Pagoda Tree Alley led to the Jiunian River. The riverbank in the suburbs was largely undeveloped; along the water was a long, lush forest where even the streetlights were sparse. Tang Yanqing walked very fast. The wind kicked up by her pace whistled in her ears, startling waterbirds nesting in the thickets.

Until she saw Liu Jin’s silhouette.

The woman was strolling along the embankment. Her black Xiangyun silk was bathed in the dim yellow of a streetlight, like a fresh ink stroke—the brushwork graceful, tracing a soft waistline. Hearing Tang Yanqing’s footsteps, Liu Jin turned around.

“Aqing, why are you here?” Her amber eyes held a shimmering warm light, appearing part joyful, part fearful.

“…I have something to tell you.”

Tang Yanqing had rehearsed a thousand thoughts and countless sentences on the way, but standing before her, she lost her words. She merely gazed at her with a mix of lament and treasure.

She saw the moist eyes, the crescent moon between her brows. She saw the river waves swaying slowly, reflecting shifting scales of light onto her face, and the rise and fall of her chest beneath the black silk, slightly hurried.

“What is it?” Liu Jin asked.

Tang Yanqing took a step forward. Before Liu Jin could react, she reached out and took her right hand. Liu Jin shuddered, panic in her eyes, but she did not pull away.

The woman’s palm was a full size smaller than Tang Yanqing’s. Her fingertips held a faint pink, like early spring cherry petals; even her nails were perfectly shaped. Tang Yanqing pressed her thumb into the soft center of Liu Jin’s palm and squeezed gently.

Perhaps because she had come in such a rush, her voice sounded exceptionally raspy: “…I’ve thought of what name I want to call you.”

The distance was too close. Tang Yanqing could see the fine fuzz on Liu Jin’s cheeks, turned into a soft halo by the streetlight. The air they exhaled overlapped, burning hot. The woman’s fragrance—light, transparent—melted into the evening breeze, silently filling her body. There shouldn’t be such a scent in the world, so sweet it was almost decadent, yet making one willingly drown within it.

“What name?” Liu Jin asked again. Her voice floated by Tang Yanqing’s ear, rippling like river water.

Tang Yanqing saw her, and she saw the whole truth. She was the boundless moonlight, a ruin of time, the last unsolved puzzle in a vast and grand city. But no matter what she was, it could not stop Tang Yanqing’s approach.

Tang Yanqing took another half-step forward, wrapping her left arm around Liu Jin’s waist. Her fingers sank into the thin fabric, closing the final distance between them. The giant void that had been aching in her heart was finally filled by this embrace.

She had waited so, so long.

Only a few centimeters remained before her lips touched Liu Jin’s earlobe.

“A-Jin,” she said.

During the seven seconds in which Liu Jin did not respond, she could feel every tiny tremor of the woman in her arms. Finally, Liu Jin raised a hand to push at her shoulder, her bracelet sliding down her wrist.

“Aqing… we can’t do this.”

Tang Yanqing did not let go. Instead, she held her tighter, wishing for every bone to be pressed together in a sear. The sky hung low, stars scattered. All buildings and humanity felt far away. They were twin islands standing side by side, sharing the same silent volcano.

“I know what you’re afraid of,” Tang Yanqing said firmly, as if holding the world’s most brilliant yet fragile treasure. “I’m not afraid.”

“…You don’t know.” Liu Jin lowered her head, avoiding her gaze, retreating hastily while withdrawing her hand. Every sentence was fragmented by her breath. “Aqing, listen to me… it’s my fault. I haven’t fulfilled my duty as an elder… I should be taking care of you, not…”

Tang Yanqing interrupted her. “I can’t hear you clearly. Lift your head and look at me while you speak.”

Liu Jin hesitated for a moment, then slowly raised her chin, her gaze crashing back into Tang Yanqing’s eyes. People said she was all-powerful; how could she be so easily fooled?

Before Liu Jin could say a single word, Tang Yanqing leaned down and kissed her.

The moment their lips touched, she was nearly submerged by an overwhelming softness. Tang Yanqing opened her lips and sucked gently; a sweetness carrying the woman’s body heat began to spread from the tip of her tongue. She was about to sink deeper into the source of that sweetness when her shoulder was suddenly shoved.

— Slap.

A second later, a stinging heat spread across her cheek. Tang Yanqing didn’t move, still looking straight at Liu Jin.

The woman’s eyes were brimming with tears, looking utterly distraught, as if Tang Yanqing were the one who had truly bullied her.

“Get out.” Liu Jin knitted her brows, trying to make her voice sound more resolute. “From today on, don’t let me see you again…”

Tang Yanqing’s lips curled into a smirk. She let out a short laugh. If Liu Jin thought she could drive her away like this, she had seriously underestimated her. Tang Yanqing grabbed Liu Jin and recklessly kissed her again.

“Mmph… get out… Aqing…”

Liu Jin struggled in her arms, but Tang Yanqing turned a deaf ear. She used her arms to lock away Liu Jin’s retreat, focusing entirely on building a kiss tender enough to linger. She focused on sucking those restless lips, tracing the full cupid’s bow and every delicate line on the surface.

Liu Jin began to bite her, her teeth tearing hard at her lower lip. A fox’s bite is always painful. Tang Yanqing tasted the metallic tang of blood, yet remained unmoved. She offered her lips and tongue, calmly accepting the biting, still tirelessly savoring the sweetness beyond the pain.

They were fighting a war in this kiss. A competition to see who was more determined: the one invading or the one resisting.

…Until Liu Jin finally loosened her teeth.

Tang Yanqing supported Liu Jin’s back and neck, fully entangling herself, driving deep to declare her total victory. The air near their noses grew hotter and hotter. Liu Jin’s ears burned as red as wild roses; she began to lick her wound cautiously, only to have control snatched away again immediately.

The damp grew damper. The soft grew softer. Every time Tang Yanqing moved her tongue, it elicited a faint, ambiguous sound of water. Liu Jin gasped and shivered in her kiss, nearly collapsing in her arms.

When she finally stopped, their foreheads rested against each other, their breathing equally heavy.

“A-Jin, I really like you,” she said.

Liu Jin didn’t even dare open her eyes to look at her, just shaking her head repeatedly, her hands clutching the hem of Tang Yanqing’s T-shirt. Tears flowed from that face of peerless beauty like two bridges made of water.

Don’t cry. Don’t cry anymore.

Tang Yanqing held Liu Jin, kissing away her tears one by one. She held her very, very tight.

— Click.

In the distant darkness, Lu Xiaokui lightly pressed the shutter of her phone. In the frame was a pair of overlapping silhouettes. Her hands were shaking.

How ridiculous.

…The person being embraced by Tang Yanqing should have been her.

Lu Xiaokui pulled her peaked cap lower and turned into an inconspicuous alley, opening a chat page on her phone. The conversation with that person had stalled three days ago.

“The things you wanted are ready. Waiting for your signal,” the person had said.

Lu Xiaokui selected dozens of videos and photos from her album and sent them all at once. Women kissing, a woman walking alone… the monster hunting killers on a rainy night.

A few minutes later, the phone vibrated.

“Well done. We can close the net now,” the person replied.