Cross the Boundary GL - Chapter 3

There were customers inside, so Qin Song generally didn’t go in. Most of the time, she would stand under the streetlamp in the corridor, lighting up a ladies’ cigarette while waiting. She only smoked after work; when busy, a pack could sometimes last until the second weekend.

Li Chu hadn’t seen Qin Song in a long time. The sudden appearance of the pink figure made the girl a little nervous. “Come on in and have a seat… it’s been a long time since you last came.” The first half was a courtesy, but the second half was genuine. Qin Song saw through her thoughts, glancing askance into the shop. “I’m smoking, and there’s someone inside.” Li Chu simply pushed open the glass door. “You can smoke inside. Where have you been these past few days?”

Li Chu wasn’t giving up, so Qin Song just crossed her arms and leaned forward. The lantern’s light swayed, sliding from her hair to her eyes. Her entire face was in shadow, except for her eyes. “I seem to recall telling you not to pry into other people’s privacy.” She curved her lips in a way that didn’t look like a smile. “You talk too much.” The metal on her tongue flashed as she spoke. The oppressive feeling forced Li Chu to step back, standing on the stairs. “When you left last time, you said you’d come again. I was just curious when ‘next time’ would be.”

That word again, “curious.” She really didn’t understand why people felt that emotion. Qin Song was completely indifferent to anything outside of herself. “It’s this time.” She extinguished her cigarette butt. When the customer walked out, she moved aside, then walked into the shop, ignoring the strange looks she received.

There were several unfinished bottles of red paint on the table. Qin Song picked one up and shook it. “The other shops couldn’t get the color right.” Li Chu stared blankly at her. “You went to other shops?” Qin Song didn’t answer. She lifted her top to reveal her smooth back, which was covered with a very dark, thinly applied base color. The technique was completely different from before. Li Chu set up the tools and tentatively pressed down with the needle as it touched the skin.

The faint clinking of her earrings was audible, and a cold yet fiery gaze cut across from the front. Qin Song, half-submerged in the rush of pleasure, raised a hand. Her voice was slightly hoarse from the addictive sensation. The hand she used to grip Li Chu’s neck wasn’t gripping too hard. “Don’t test me.” Because her fingers were only loosely wrapped around Li Chu’s neck, the girl didn’t feel any sense of suffocation. But the bumpy texture of the rings was grating on her skin.

Qin Song wore three rings on her right hand but used her ringless index finger to lift Li Chu’s chin, forcing them to make eye contact. “Do you like pain?” Li Chu, clutching the tattoo gun, shook her head. A torrent of thoughts had flashed through her mind in the few minutes since this had started. When faced with the question, she could only choose the path of least resistance. The grip on her neck loosened. Qin Song slowly moved her fingertips to the girl’s left wrist, which was holding the tattoo gun, and said, “I do.”

Li Chu had a bad feeling about this. The next second, her hand was suddenly pulled forward. The still-spinning needle jabbed hard into the skin below the woman’s collarbone. For a long time, Li Chu watched with her own eyes as the color spread, from light to dark. The machine couldn’t handle the pressure, and the ink that seeped out looked like blood. Li Chu immediately used her foot to turn off the power. “You’re sick!” she blurted out, turning around to frantically look for a tissue. Qin Song stood there with an indifferent expression, looking down at her collarbone. A dense red dot was left under the bone. At first glance, it looked like a cinnabar mole, but because the main color of the tattoo in that area was deep blue, this “mole” looked strange and out of place. It didn’t matter to Qin Song; she only needed to get a deep-seated thrill.

Li Chu finally believed that something was truly wrong with her. She held the machine far away, looking like a mother hen protecting her chick. “Find a way to feel pain that doesn’t leave a scar.” Qin Song listened attentively. “Such as?” Li Chu rolled her eyes, thinking for a moment. “Like, bite… something?” “If I bite myself, I’ll bite off a whole chunk of flesh.” Qin Song expressionlessly stuck out her tongue, revealing the whole arrangement of piercings at the tip. “And this. If I use too much force, it’ll fall out, too.” Li Chu said “Oh,” and realized that she had been discussing how to better experience pain. She was also sick.

The plum rain season ended. Qin Song’s work, like the humidity, subsided from busy to leisurely, and she began to take an extended holiday. Her daily schedule was very irregular. The time she woke up was just as the sun set. Streetlights flickered on, and a florist’s employee was watering the flowers with a spray bottle. Today was different. Li Chu was there too, wearing a pure white chiffon dress and short boots, swinging back and forth indecisively as she picked out flowers from the buckets.

“If you’re giving them to an older woman, daylilies are good,” the employee said, sweeping up the fallen leaves from the floor and straightening up. “They’re most suitable for mothers. Is this for Mother’s Day?” Li Chu awkwardly ran a hand through her hair. Her whole person was blurred by the light from the shop’s ceiling. The woman, without sharp edges, said something cruel without any sting. “No, I don’t have a mother. I want to give them to the dean.” The employee, realizing her mistake, quickly apologized. “I’m so sorry, I hope you don’t mind.”

Qin Song watched from across the street. A new emotion rose within her: a feeling of shared experience. She saw a similarity in the person who gave her pain and pleasure. But Li Chu was still so vibrant and full of life. The world was full of rotting, spoiled emotional garbage, yet here was someone who had nothing and never blamed anyone for it. She was unlike the roses, whose only purpose was to be held in her palm to create a low-cost pain to temporarily quench her thirst. “…Who is the dean you’re talking about? If she’s also an older woman, I suggest carnations…”

Li Chu eventually bought a bouquet of carnations. The employee still seemed to be feeling guilty about her words and chased after her to give her a white rose as an apology. The girl, clutching the flower, turned around. Car headlights lit up the crosswalk. Qin Song walked towards her from the other side, the hem of her khaki trench coat outlined by a dazzling light. “What are you doing here?” Li Chu’s eyes were wide and round, like two watery grapes. “Are you here to buy flowers, too?”

Qin Song’s reply was concise. “Eating.” She paused, and then, uncharacteristically, asked, “Who are the flowers for?” Li Chu was a little surprised by the woman’s unusual behavior and answered honestly. “For the dean of the orphanage I used to live in. It’s her birthday today.” She tucked the carnations under her arm and took the white rose she had put in her purse, holding it out. “This one is for you.” Qin Song didn’t like roses. She roughly grabbed the stem, and the thorns pricked her palm. After the brief relief, she narrowed her eyes slightly. The pure white petals, stained with blood, were crushed to pieces. Li Chu, taken aback by the morbid expression on the other woman’s face, backed away. “I’m leaving. I’ll come back tomorrow for a touch-up.” She ran across the street with the bouquet, her shadow growing smaller and fainter.

Qin Song was still standing under the streetlight. A few men who had finished their late-night snack walked past, their eyes accidentally straying over to her. She slowly shifted her gaze and met theirs. The light from the lamp made the woman’s paleness starkly visible. The dark circles under her eyes were even more pronounced, and because her hair was so light, the veins in her neck were almost translucent. Only as the men got closer did they realize she was a living person. On closer inspection, this “living person” was so beautiful that she made the background fade into insignificance. Qin Song lit a cigarette, meeting all their admiring gazes. Her profile in the smoke was stunning, like shards of glass scattered under a rainbow.

One man, unwisely, stepped onto a shard of glass. “Hey beautiful, waiting for someone?” Qin Song’s trench coat was worn over a slip dress. The long dress accentuated her slender waist, a perfect combination of innocence and desire that made the men’s eyes go wide. He immediately took out his phone and walked up to her. “Wanna add me on WeChat? I’ll treat you to some BBQ.” His friend chimed in, “Pretty lady, why don’t you come hang out with us?” Qin Song’s eyes were lifeless and dull. “Let’s make a bet.” “What’s the bet?” The men rubbed their hands together, looking confident. “Tell us. Don’t blame us if we play rough when you lose, pretty lady.” Amidst their wanton teasing, the woman raised her cigarette. The crimson tip burned, releasing a puff of white smoke into the air. “I bet the cigarette butt can burn your hand.” She then scanned the men across from her. “Who wants to go first?” The men, who had been smiling just moments before, instantly changed their expressions and angrily yelled at her, “Are you crazy?” “Yes,” Qin Song lifted her chin. “I’m definitely crazy.”

The men scattered. Before leaving, a thin man looked back and spat. “What bad luck, running into a lunatic in the middle of the night!” Qin Song put a hand in her trench coat pocket and was about to walk in the opposite direction. Hearing the remark, she slowly stopped, turning her head back as she lit another cigarette. Before the man could turn back, he saw a black shadow flash by. A sharp pain tore through his lips, and a scream ripped through the air. Qin Song, with a calm and composed expression, did the most insane thing—she pressed the burning cigarette butt against the thin man’s mouth, leaving a string of blisters. The people around them were stunned for a full ten seconds before reacting and rushing to intervene. By then, Qin Song had already let go and was standing at a distance, calmly watching him lie on the ground, clutching his mouth and writhing. She let out a short, mocking laugh. Such a small amount of pain, and he couldn’t even handle it.

So when the police asked Qin Song, “Why did you burn him?” she simply and indifferently replied, “Because it was fun.” The officer was quite exasperated. They had checked the surveillance footage, and it was ultimately the men who had started it. Any mediation would have to start with the woman. In fact, they had already dispersed, but for some unknown reason, the pink-haired woman had suddenly turned around and leisurely followed them. She had stood there and coldly watched the whole thing unfold. The scene was spine-chilling.

“Pay the medical fees and have your family pick you up. Don’t be so impulsive next time, young lady. That’s a brutal way to fight.” The man’s lips were practically burned bald. Qin Song’s eyelashes trembled slightly. “I don’t have a family.” The officer raised his voice. “No family?” He took her phone from the front desk and turned it on. “What’s the password? You must have friends, right?” “No.” “…” The girl was in a state of unruffled calm from beginning to end. When they asked her a question, she would answer in a flat, monotone voice, without even lifting her eyelids. The officer flipped through her phone for a while and found no emergency contacts. Her address book was completely blank, and he scratched his head. “If no one comes to sign you out, you have to stay here for twenty-four hours. Don’t worry, everyone is treated the same.” Qin Song was silent. The officer looked at her for a long time, then let out a heavy sigh. “Check your WeChat to see if you have any close friends or relatives. We just need someone to come sign for you. It’s only nine o’clock now.” “No,” she repeated. The officer stopped talking, closed the door, and walked out.

The Hongfu Orphanage was four bus stops away from the kiss.me tattoo shop. After giving the flowers to Dean Hu, Li Chu brought a box of cake back. She walked along a small path. The night wind rustled the shadows of the trees. There were tables and chairs on the roadside, and people at the late-night food stalls were drinking until they were drunk. Li Chu happened to walk by and saw a group of people fighting. The ground was bloody and messy, and it looked like someone might be killed. She quickly called the police. As a witness, the girl had to carry the cake and go to the police station to make a statement. In the chaotic noise of the police station, she saw a familiar face. The pinkish-purple hair covered her cheeks. The morbid dark circles under her eyes were a stark contrast to her overly pale skin. The closer she got, the more familiar it became.

“Qin Song,” she tentatively called out the name, her eyes darting around to confirm. “Is that Qin Song?” The officer who had just been questioning her called out in response, “Yeah, her name’s Qin Song. You two know each other? Are you friends?” “What’s wrong with her?” Li Chu put down the cake. “Why was she arrested?” “If you’re her friend, sign the papers and take her home. Otherwise, she’ll have to stay here until tomorrow!” Li Chu stood there for a moment, then eagerly said, “I’ll sign, I’ll sign.” Qin Song heard the door open but made no move. She heard the girl’s voice and turned her face. The pair of eyes, round as a bright moon, were close at hand. The officer locked the door and waved. “You can go now! You said you had no friends, but here’s someone who came for you…”

Li Chu, hugging the cake, walked down the stairs with Qin Song. “The police said you started a fight. What happened?” That word again, “curious.” This emotion was simply a persistent ghost. Qin Song walked forward with her hands in her pockets, not saying a word. “Wait up!” Li Chu was afraid of shaking the cake too much, so she held it close to her chest and trotted to keep up. “Are you coming for a tattoo tomorrow? I bought a new color.” The girl smiled, and two dimples, one deep and one shallow, appeared on her cheeks. Bathed in the silvery moonlight, even her annoyance became gentle.

She thought of the white rose that had been crushed that evening and felt a little unsatisfied. Qin Song gave her a detached look and said, “I already have a base color.” “We can touch up your feet.” Li Chu wasn’t very tall, and her legs weren’t long enough. Walking next to Qin Song, she was sweating profusely. “The new pigment has a pearlescent effect. It hurts a little more than the regular one.” One sentence was enough to prove one thing. She had accepted the person in front of her. She had accepted her intense craving for pain and was trying to provide it.

Qin Song let out a very, very faint laugh, then turned and blocked the girl’s path. In a world full of scars, there were always some beautiful things that magnified and extended themselves indefinitely. She almost thought that pain was an act of retention. Qin Song looked at the vibrant streetlights, bent down, and leaned close to the girl’s ear. The fluttering breath on the back of her ear was like a single spark igniting a prairie fire. “You can be rougher. Otherwise, I won’t feel the effect of the new pigment.”

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