Frivolous - Chapter 29

Chapter 29

The next morning, Chen Ran woke up early. She had just finished preparing breakfast when Yu Lanzhou happened to wake up.

Yu Lanzhou looked at Chen Ran, who was dressed very formally, and her brow furrowed for a moment. Remembering how Chen Ran had walked out last night only to turn back and say “I love you,” she suddenly felt a spark of reluctance. Chen Ran was an unpredictable variable; there was no need to use her as a mere tool right now.

Yu Lanzhou tilted her head slightly. “What I said last night… doesn’t count anymore. You can return to Beijing early.”

A look of confusion appeared on Chen Ran’s face. The more Yu Lanzhou spoke like this, the more Chen Ran felt she was about to miss something. Who was Yu Lanzhou originally going to take her to see? Why the sudden change of heart? Did she think Chen Ran was unpresentable? Unfit for her world? Useless?

Sworms of ants seemed to crawl over Chen Ran’s heart, leaving behind the stinging pain of their bites.

Yu Lanzhou’s phone lit up. It was a message from Zhou Jingting: Can I see you again? Let me treat you to a meal, just at my home. The tone was uncharacteristically humble.

Yu Lanzhou tapped her index finger against the side of the phone and replied: It’s not convenient. Chen Ran is here.

Then bring her along. I’ll host personally.] Zhou Jingting never believed she would lose to Chen Ran.

No need. I’ll come.

Zhou Jingting insisted: Bring her.

Burying one’s head in the sand like an ostrich only leads to suffocation. Yu Lanzhou replied: Fine.

Putting down her phone, she noticed Chen Ran was still stealing glances at her. She said, “Then stay. But not today tomorrow. Tomorrow, you accompany me to see Zhou Jingting.”

Chen Ran’s heart tightened. She vaguely guessed what Yu Lanzhou’s purpose was. She was terrified that after tomorrow, she would hear Yu Lanzhou say, “Let’s terminate the contract.”

Still, she tried her best to remain calm. “How should I behave?”

“Just your normal self.”

Yu Lanzhou noticed Chen Ran was trembling visibly. She reached out, turned Chen Ran’s face toward her, and asked, “What are you afraid of?”

Chen Ran tilted her chin, pressing it deeper into Yu Lanzhou’s palm. Her voice was low and dejected. “I’m afraid you won’t want me anymore.”

Yu Lanzhou didn’t offer further words of comfort. She simply pinched Chen Ran’s cheek again and said, “I won’t.”

When she let go, the spot on Chen Ran’s face remained flushed red.

After Yu Lanzhou left, Chen Ran followed suit, hurrying out the door. Yu Lanzhou did not return that evening.

Chen Ran sent her a message: Can we video call?

Yu Lanzhou had never experienced being clung to like this. It didn’t annoy her; instead, it felt a bit soothing. Ten minutes later, she dialed Chen Ran.

She didn’t expect the first thing to enter her view to be Chen Ran’s pale waist and abdomen. Chen Ran was in the middle of changing. After fixing the cuffs of a long-sleeved white shirt, she stepped back two paces to show her upper body on screen. “I’ve prepared a few outfits. Can you help me choose?”

“Anything is fine,” Yu Lanzhou said. What she really meant was that everything looked beautiful.

“Is this one okay?”

Yu Lanzhou squinted at the screen. The style was remarkably similar to her own clothes. This little thing… she’s quite something. She nodded. “It’s fine.”

Chen Ran’s heart leapt at that “it’s fine.” Yu Lanzhou was allowing her to get close to her style allowing the name “Chen Ran” to be branded with the label of “Yu Lanzhou.” She hopped happily in the bedroom, revealing a pair of straight, slender legs.

Then she leaned close to the screen, her voice soft and seductive. “Are you coming tonight?”

“Get some rest. The driver will pick you up at ten tomorrow morning.” Yu Lanzhou looked away, thinking: I wasn’t this demanding in my early twenties.

“Goodnight, Lanzhou.”

“Goodnight.”

Chen Ran’s heart skipped another beat at the reply. Goodnight. I love you.

“Hello~” Chen Ran’s voice went up an octave. Upon entering, she took the initiative to greet Zhou Jingting and handed over the gift she brought.

Zhou Jingting skipped the excessive pleasantries, accepted the gift, and led them into the living room. The Zhou residence was as magnificent as the Yu estate; the living room ceiling was nearly three stories high.

Chen Ran’s gaze circled the room before landing on Zhou Jingting, trailing down to the sandalwood bracelet on her wrist. The other woman was currently pouring opened red wine into a decanter. “Lanzhou can’t drink, so I prepared water for her. Today, it’s just the two of us,” she said, glancing up at Chen Ran.

Chen Ran first looked at Yu Lanzhou. Seeing no reaction, she said, “Okay.”

She then stared at Zhou Jingting’s refined movements. Every gesture was elegant. She doubted she would ever see anyone with a greater sense of “poetry” than Zhou Jingting. If Yu Lanzhou was a snow-capped mountain tranquil on the surface but with dark currents below then Zhou Jingting was the lotus in the pond. No one fit the word “lotus” better; she looked like an elf turned human.

Before meeting Zhou Jingting, Chen Ran thought that whatever Yu Lanzhou wanted, she would get—that someone would always offer it. Until she realized that even someone as cold as Yu Lanzhou might turn into soft silk before Zhou Jingting. Her heart filled with a throbbing, sour ache.

Chen Ran turned back to look at Yu Lanzhou. She didn’t want her to suffer from unrequited love. Yu Lanzhou received this deep, intense look with a confused expression, but Chen Ran quickly turned away.

The meal was not particularly flavorful. Both Yu Lanzhou and Zhou Jingting were women of few words. Chen Ran only occasionally heard Zhou Jingting ask a question, to which she would give a measured response.

“If I may ask, how much does your band make per performance?”

“Our previous quote was 1.3 million. After taxes and various expenses, what we actually get isn’t much.”

Zhou Jingting knew that a single bracelet had once cost Chen Ran her entire net worth, so she didn’t probe further. “Traveling around must be quite tiring.”

“It’s alright. Compared to other jobs, it’s not that hard.”

“Are people in bands… more tolerant of ‘this’?”

Chen Ran took a sip of red wine, knowing what she meant. She nodded. “Yes.”

Because it was a small dinner for three, they didn’t let the servants disturb them. After the meal, Chen Ran helped Zhou Jingting carry the plates and glasses to the kitchen. Her stride was a bit too wide, and a drop of red wine splashed onto her wrist.

Zhou Jingting leaned in closer and reached out to roll up the cuff of Chen Ran’s white shirt to prevent it from staining. Her movements were slow and deliberate; her breath was shallow. Chen Ran noticed a vertical scar about the length of a finger joint on her left wrist, but she didn’t stare too long. She looked up at her face she was truly beautiful, as elegant as a fairy from a painting.

After putting everything away, Yu Lanzhou stepped in front of Chen Ran while Zhou Jingting was getting the dessert fruit. Her tone was annoyed, almost impatient. “Don’t stare.”

Does she think looking at Zhou Jingting will make a piece of her go missing? Chen Ran nodded. “Okay.” She went back to the living room sofa.

After Yu Lanzhou entered the kitchen, Chen Ran heard Zhou Jingting sigh. Then she said, “Lanzhou, I’m truly curious. Why?” She was asking why Chen Ran was the one who managed to win Yu Lanzhou over.

Zhou Jingting couldn’t speak for others, but she believed she understood Yu Lanzhou. In Yu Lanzhou’s dictionary, there was “testing,” but never “playing around.” She was purer than anyone. And now, she was more decisive than anyone. Two years ago, when she said she didn’t like her anymore, it was the truth. And Chen Ran was indeed that person from two years ago.

Zhou Jingting didn’t care that Chen Ran was sitting just a short distance away. “I’ve observed for a long time.”

Yu Lanzhou leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “And did you find an answer?”

Water flowed over Zhou Jingting’s palms. She softly uttered one word: “Proactivity.”

Perhaps the word she really wanted to use was “seduction.” The kind of seduction that Zhou Jingting, with her pride and family background, could never bring herself to do. She placed the plates on the rack, aligning them one by one, and then asked, “Lanzhou, you’re 36 this year, aren’t you?”

The age we originally agreed to be together.

Zhou Jingting’s voice was deep but not quiet. “Even when you followed me to the UK, I was still delusional. I thought you were keeping our promise, that we still had a future. Even when you returned to China, I felt we had a chance that no one could come between us. But today… but Lanzhou…”

Her voice trailed off. Yu Lanzhou glanced at her but remained silent. Ten seconds later, both Yu Lanzhou and Chen Ran heard Zhou Jingting ask: “You’ve slept with her, haven’t you?”

The words echoed in the empty house. Chen Ran felt her heart drop to the floor. Her ears were burning, her face was burning, her whole body was burning. But if she could travel back to that night, Chen Ran knew she would make the same choice.

With tears in her eyes, Chen Ran glanced toward the kitchen. Yu Lanzhou was squinting, staring intensely at Zhou Jingting. Then she said, “You, go back first.”

Chen Ran knew the words were meant for her. Yu Lanzhou was angry. But there was nothing she could do. Chen Ran quietly walked out the door, leaving them space. She knew this conversation would determine the rest of her life.

After hearing the door close, Zhou Jingting spoke with a mocking tone, “I can smell you on her.” She thought Yu Lanzhou was just acting out of spite, but she really… she actually…

Yu Lanzhou’s gaze was icy. “What business is it of yours, Professor Zhou?”

“So you really can treat me this coldly.” Zhou Jingting burst into tears. The young girl who used to walk by her side and occasionally brush her hand against hers was gone. In her place was a Yu Lanzhou who belonged to someone else.

“Why wouldn’t I? While I was fighting against the Yu family, while I was firmly choosing you and walking toward you, what were you doing? You were busy going on blind dates, Miss Zhou.”

Yu Lanzhou was also crying; the tears hung on her lashes like dewdrops. She looked like she needed someone to wipe them away. Then she said, her emotions spiraling out of control: “I said it then. I said if you just took one step toward me, everything could be solved, even if I lost everything. You said you felt nothing for me. I said I’d adopt a child to block my way back, and you said I was as naive as a child.”

“I am still naive today, and I still can’t escape the Yu family. But the difference is that we ended two years ago. I told you that back then.”

“I don’t know whether to call it luck or… an apology? Because when I went to adopt Yu Zhou, I fell for someone else Chen Ran. I was supposed to adopt her, but I was just that quick to change my mind.”

“So it’s not that you, Zhou Jingting, didn’t want me. It’s me. I gave up on you.”

“You’re right, she relied on proactivity. The kind of proactivity you can never do. I really thought I would love you for a long time, but as you retreated again and again, I thought: even if you love me, even if you have your reasons, even if it’s to protect me, I won’t continue.”

“No one is worth my repeated proactivity. No one.”

Yu Lanzhou rarely spoke so much at once; her breathing was uneven by the end. She stared at Zhou Jingting’s tearful eyes, wiped away her own tears, and said calmly, “Once I change Yu Zhou’s name, we will truly have no connection left, Professor Zhou.”

Yu Lanzhou didn’t know how much of her words were genuine and how much were spoken in anger. She didn’t even know if she loved Chen Ran. But she was certain of one thing: there was no future for her and Zhou Jingting.

She stared at the sandalwood bracelet on the other woman’s wrist. “Take it off. It’s over. This bracelet doesn’t suit you.” The scar on your wrist doesn’t suit you, and proactivity doesn’t suit you. Even if you take many steps toward me now, we cannot be a match made in heaven.

That night, when Yu Lanzhou arrived at the villa where Chen Ran was staying, the sunset outside the window was burning like a wildfire. Yu Lanzhou sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned to Chen Ran.

Chen Ran walked over. Seeing that Yu Lanzhou’s eyes were slightly red, she ran her hands down Yu Lanzhou’s outstretched arms until she caught her hands. Then she slowly knelt before her, leaning in to kiss her fingers. Her expression was so beautiful it invoked a desire to… destroy.

Yu Lanzhou patted her cheek twice. “Go take a shower.”

When Yu Lanzhou entered her gently, Chen Ran’s eyes were shimmering—perhaps with sweat, perhaps with tears. So Yu Lanzhou does have desire for me. Chen Ran felt the sandalwood necklace around Yu Lanzhou’s neck dangling against her collarbone. It was both suffocating and blissful.

Yu Lanzhou frowned, stopped her movements, and let out a light sigh. “Why are you crying?” She made to pull away.

If she’s so unwilling, why did she act like she couldn’t live without me? What does Chen Ran actually love? The dark fire in Yu Lanzhou’s heart vanished completely.

“Don’t…” Chen Ran shook her head, leaning into her as she felt the other woman retreating. “Don’t go.”

Chen Ran didn’t know what she had done wrong; she only knew she was about to have Yu Lanzhou, only to lose her again so quickly. She felt thirsty craving a drop of rain in the right place. Through her tears, she said, “I’m not dirty. Please hold me.” She hadn’t forgotten she had been drinking, so she didn’t ask for a kiss.

To Yu Lanzhou, her voice sounded delicate, like melting spring water. But this spring water wasn’t flowing purely for her. It carried her desire, and instead of reaching its destination, it hit Yu Lanzhou first. Thus, Yu Lanzhou became the shore that blocked her.

“I really… hate it when you cry.” It feels as if I’ve stripped away your right to love someone else and taken you for myself.

The expression in Chen Ran’s tear-filled eyes froze. Her breath hitched. She stopped crying. She took Yu Lanzhou’s hand and pulled it toward herself.

“Please… give it to me,” Chen Ran murmured. “I think of you every night. All night long. Even when I don’t see you, I think of you until I’m at my wit’s end. I want you physically. I want you emotionally. Teacher Yu, I want you.”

Yu Lanzhou couldn’t take it anymore and silenced her mouth. She was afraid she would hear something else if she waited.

“Don’t,” Chen Ran turned her head, offering a slight rejection. “I’ve been drinking.”

Yu Lanzhou straightened her face. “It’s fine.”

Chen Ran cried again—she looked so adorable when she cried. Her nostrils flared slightly, her skin was pale, and her lips were red as large pearl-like tears fell. Yu Lanzhou was very gentle with her, kissing the trembling parts of her body. The mole in her eye burned hot as she looked down at Chen Ran.

Chen Ran felt the conductor’s fingers were so soft she feared she might break them, yet she continued to cry and move against them, losing count of how many times it had been. Finally, Yu Lanzhou freed a hand to soothe her, her voice tender. “It’s okay. Don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It’s over.”

As waves of fatigue hit her wrist, Yu Lanzhou tucked a lock of hair behind Chen Ran’s ear and whispered, “Goodnight.” By then, Chen Ran was already exhausted and had closed her eyes tightly.

Yu Lanzhou tidied her up, then leaned down to kiss the corner of Chen Ran’s eye, which still held the flush of the afterglow. As she moved to lie beside her for a moment, she heard the words she least wanted to hear from Chen Ran’s mouth.

In her sleep, Chen Ran’s brow was knit tight as she softly called out—”Mom.”

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