Frivolous - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Blame the sunset for being too beautiful.

It was that time.

It was the evening shortly after Yu Lanzhou had told her to “get out.”

Because Yu Zhou said she wanted to hear her play the guitar, Chen Ran planned to ride her motorcycle back to her rented room to fetch it. On the winding mountain road, as Chen Ran—with her long pink hair and orange motorcycle—passed Yu Lanzhou’s car, a sparse rain began to fall from the dark clouds.

Chen Ran didn’t recognize the other woman. She only instinctively thought the oncoming sports car looked beautiful; its expensive nature was evident even from the paint job.

After entering the villa, the housekeeper handed her a towel. Chen Ran took it and casually dried her hair. Yu Lanzhou walked over from the first-floor garden. She wore a white shirt with disconnected, light ink-like patterns, exuding an aura of “do not approach.” Holding a glass, she took a sip of water before asking Chen Ran: “You didn’t get soaked?”

Her long, well-proportioned fingers looked elegant holding the glass, her gaze indifferent and casual.

“What?” Chen Ran didn’t know why she would suddenly ask this. From Yu Lanzhou’s perspective, there was really no need for such a question.

“Didn’t it just rain?”

“Oh, so that car was yours.” Chen Ran laughed and tugged at her shirt. “When you’re riding, the wind dries you off in no time.”

“Mhm.”

“Auntie Yu, may I play a few songs for Yu Zhou? It won’t take long.” Since the Yu residence was a detached villa, she only needed Yu Lanzhou’s permission.

“You may.”

Chen Ran took the guitar out of its waterproof bag—an orange guitar engraved with the number “23,” very close in color to her motorcycle.

“23?” Yu Lanzhou looked at Chen Ran, and unexpectedly, they locked eyes for ten seconds. In this fleeting yet eternal moment, Chen Ran thought of her naive teenage feelings. She wasn’t sure if Yu Lanzhou was thinking the same thing—about the 23 strokes in a name, or the “23” moniker of her music.

“23.” Chen Ran instinctively leaned slightly toward where Yu Lanzhou stood, hoping to prolong the eye contact, but the other woman gave her no such chance and turned to leave.

After Yu Lanzhou went upstairs, Chen Ran walked into the guest bathroom feeling somewhat despondent. A Podocarpus pine grew in the spacious courtyard. As the sunset began to shift in the evening, Chen Ran sat in the yard with her guitar. Yu Zhou, as always, was her most loyal listener. When Yu Zhou had been lost in the deep mountains and Chen Ran found her, this was the song she had hummed to her. It was so gentle, softer than a ripple.

That night, after giving her the syrup, Yu Lanzhou had mentioned in passing that the “melody was nice.” The expression she had when she said it was somewhat gentle. Chen Ran thought about it, dazed.

Yu Zhou leaned in, shaking Chen Ran’s arm, and asked affectionately, “Sister, the tune is so gentle. What’s the name of this song?”

“I haven’t thought of a name yet. Why don’t you pick one?”

The housekeeper stood a few steps away and bowed. “Miss, the tutor has arrived.”

“Understood,” Yu Zhou replied, her voice steady as she stood up. After a few steps, she turned back to Chen Ran. “Sister, let’s call the song ‘Bonfire.’ It’s very warm, just like a bonfire.”

“Okay!” Chen Ran promised her.

After Yu Zhou went inside, Chen Ran wandered around the courtyard. As the sunset colors shifted, she thought the view would be better from the terrace. She passed by Yu Lanzhou’s bedroom again and, driven by some inexplicable impulse, stole a quick glance inside.

This time, Chen Ran’s gaze fixed on an oil painting hanging in the foyer. It was so familiar that Chen Ran’s heart skipped a beat. A question arose in her mind. Two years ago, when Chen Ran recorded three songs using amateur equipment, she received her first comment three months after uploading them. The user’s nickname was “Y,” and the profile picture was this very oil painting—a composition of dark green, water green, and indigo that looked somewhat oppressive.

After some searching, Chen Ran had found the name of the painting: The Cliffs at Etretat, a work by Monet.

Y had critiqued those three songs one by one, sounding gentle and encouraging, praising Chen Ran’s voice, lyrics, and melodies. Y even suggested that forming a band would be better. Chen Ran’s dormant heart finally showed signs of reigniting. She clung to this spark, wishing she could give her whole self to it. With trembling hands, she replied: Thank you. You’ve given me so much strength.

Later, Chen Ran found a part-time job in the school cafeteria and worked four jobs during the summer break. She lived on steamed buns and Lao Gan Ma chili sauce every day to save a meager amount of money. Someone stopped her on the street and asked if she could be a model, swearing they weren’t a scammer. Thus, Chen Ran gained a small fund, all of which she invested in music production. She released ten more songs, and the album was titled “Y.”

Three songs from the “Y” album became minor hits. Chen Ran was thrilled, spending her time online monitoring Y’s comments, but Y never returned. Chen Ran also temporarily distanced herself from the internet as she focused on her studies nearing her senior year of high school.

Chen Ran pulled up the saved profile picture of “Y.” The wallpaper behind the oil painting in the photo was similar to the wallpaper in Yu Lanzhou’s foyer. Yu Lanzhou had praised her song, saying the melody was nice. And there was her questioning remark when she saw the “23” carved on the guitar.

Could she be Y?

Chen Ran’s heart pounded as she walked onto the terrace and saw the sleeping Yu Lanzhou. At that time, rumors about Yu Lanzhou suggested she was the one who had supported the entire Yu Shen Group after Yu Jijie fell ill. They said that under Yu Lanzhou’s management, Yu Shen was more prosperous than ever; this successor possessed ambitions that even surpassed those of her mother, Yu Jijie.

But now, seeing Yu Lanzhou lying in the rocking chair on the terrace with a book of poetry in her arms, Chen Ran felt a sense of illusion—that the woman was actually very soft. The skin on the back of Yu Lanzhou’s hand was so white it was almost transparent, the veins clearly visible like winding green vines. Her lips were a pale red, like unhealed tessera flowers.

She was so beautiful.

Chen Ran saw a precarious piece of white porcelain suspended before her eyes, with a hint of crimson at the rim ready to fall with gravity at any moment. A desire surged in Chen Ran’s heart: she wanted so badly to catch this flowing red with the gentlest of kisses.

Although the post-rain evening had thousands of rosy clouds, they had vanished at the horizon as the sun set. Taking advantage of the dim light… no one would find out. She was asleep. Chen Ran’s body acted before her reason and morality could.

Yu Lanzhou woke up when she felt something on her lips. She squinted, realizing this girl had just kissed her. It was a very warm touch. She hesitated for two seconds between pretending to be asleep and opening her eyes. Then she opened them, staring at her, and asked in a freezing voice: “What are you doing?”

Yu Lanzhou stared at her intently. Chen Ran’s long eyelashes fluttered, like a forest deer’s clear eyes in the dawn light. It was as if a hidden fire had suddenly burned a ship.

When Chen Ran realized what she had done, she could hardly believe it. She couldn’t recall what her state of mind had been just seconds ago. It was as if she were possessed. Looking back now, Yu Lanzhou was an attraction to her for no logical reason. And in that stolen kiss, there was desire.

Yu Lanzhou stood up and walked toward her step by step, asking with an oppressive air: “I’m asking you, what are you doing?”

Chen Ran instinctively backed away, not noticing the swimming pool behind her, and fell right in. Although she could swim, she was terrified of water and didn’t know how deep it was. In her panic, she flailed her arms wildly in the pool, yet she didn’t dare call for help. The splashing water blurred Chen Ran’s vision; she couldn’t see Yu Lanzhou’s expression on the shore.

A blurred figure gradually approached her and reached out a hand from the edge. Chen Ran grabbed it urgently; the palm was slightly cool. Only when she used Yu Lanzhou’s strength to stand up in the pool did she realize the water was barely chest-deep.

Yu Lanzhou pulled her hand away from the tight grip and sneered: “So frivolous, yet so cowardly.”

After Yu Lanzhou left, the world went silent. Only the sound of her pounding heart remained in Chen Ran’s ears. She had behaved frivolously toward this world-renowned conductor and successor of Yu Shen.

After returning to the guest room dazed, showering, and changing, Yu Zhou had finished her lesson and walked out of the piano room. She pulled Chen Ran onto the bed and asked bluntly: “Sister, how… how do you view my mother?”

Chen Ran felt like she was on a train that had jumped the tracks. Her heart trembled, and her lips quivered as she asked: “Why ask so suddenly?” Yu Zhou’s sudden question made her wonder if she had seen it. If she had been found out.

The next moment, Yu Zhou gave her the answer. “Sister, I saw it. I saw you steal a kiss from her.”

Chen Ran didn’t know what to say, her face turning a distressed red. Yu Zhou’s voice held a plea: “Sister, don’t like her.”

Why not? Chen Ran’s nose stung. She wanted to ask why not, but she couldn’t. She confirmed today that she liked women. She liked Yu Lanzhou. Such a love was separated by a chasm as vast as heaven and earth.

Yu Zhou stared at her expression and said: “Do you remember the time I ran away? You asked me the reason then and I didn’t want to answer. Now I’ll tell you: because of the name.”

“What name?”

“The name Yu Zhou. It carries the pinyin zhou. My mom has someone she likes, surnamed Zhou—her name is Zhou Jingting. A literature professor at Tinghang University.”

That was the first time Chen Ran heard that name—the person in Yu Lanzhou’s heart.

“They grew up together; the families are old friends. I don’t know the specifics of what happened between them, but I know one thing for sure,” Yu Zhou paused, exhaling before continuing, “I was adopted by Yu Lanzhou in a fit of pique against Zhou Jingting. She seems to really love that woman.”

A woman? Zhou Jingting was a woman? Chen Ran sat in thought, only one piece of information remaining in her head: Yu Lanzhou also liked women.

“That has nothing to do with me.” Who Yu Lanzhou liked had nothing to do with Chen Ran; Chen Ran had that much self-awareness. For someone like Yu Lanzhou, it was best if the whole world loved her. But could she also suffer from unrequited love?

“You don’t like her?” There was a hint of urgency in Yu Zhou’s expression.

Chen Ran neither confirmed nor denied it. She had no right to like Yu Lanzhou, so she only said: “How old are you? Don’t think about these things. This isn’t a topic for me to discuss with you.”

“Don’t treat me like a child, I hate it when you treat me like a child! I just hope you don’t like her. If you like her, my position would be so strange.”

“Yu Zhou,” Chen Ran called out helplessly. Seeing that Chen Ran still hadn’t given the promise she wanted, Yu Zhou ran out in a huff.

The next morning, the atmosphere at the breakfast table was very somber. After finishing the meal, Chen Ran had to return to the welfare home to complete the final procedures. And Yu Zhou would be going to the airport tomorrow.

Chen Ran pushed her motorcycle outside the main gate. Just as she was about to leave, she was stopped by Yu Lanzhou: “Wait, I have something to say to you.” Then Chen Ran heard Yu Lanzhou ask coldly: “Chen Ran, actually, your relationship with Yu Zhou isn’t really that good, is it?”

Chen Ran didn’t understand what she meant. She looked at her with a puzzled gaze and remained silent. Yu Lanzhou continued: “Even though you grew up together, I can sense that you are four years older than her and more mature in your thinking. You aren’t a child who can pretend to be innocent. Often, you are just deliberately ‘downwardly compatible’ with her.”

“Yeah, sometimes pretending is too tiring, and I feel like exposing myself,” Chen Ran tugged at the corner of her mouth, trying to smile, but found she couldn’t. The stiff facial muscles made her expression look awkward and terrible.

Now she understood Yu Lanzhou’s meaning. In Yu Lanzhou’s heart, she was a petty person who would use any means to get close to power. Chen Ran realized that anyone would think so. Her stolen kiss on Yu Lanzhou made no sense.

Would she then suspect that Yu Zhou being trapped in the mountains was something she had deliberately orchestrated?

“Expose? Expose what?” Yu Lanzhou was somewhat confused.

“Auntie Yu, you don’t need to say more. I understand.”

“What do you understand? Chen Ran, I haven’t finished speaking. Don’t misinterpret me.” She just wanted to confirm from what position Chen Ran had kissed her.

“Then what else do you want to say?”

“Why did you kiss me?” Although the person before her was young, Yu Lanzhou didn’t think a kiss on the lips was something that could be casually brushed aside. “If I wanted to, that kiss would be enough to put you in jail for a few years.”

Chen Ran replied with a tragic smile: “I’m sorry, Auntie Yu. I was confused; I wasn’t in my right mind for a moment.”

“And now? Have you come to your senses?”

“Yes, yes. I’ve come to my senses. Auntie Yu, I solemnly apologize to you and hope you can forgive me.”

“In that case, you should have restrained your thoughts from the start and never let them see the light of day.” Chen Ran felt Yu Lanzhou’s gaze like a cold white snake.

“I’m sorry, I was wrong.” She stepped outside the gate. “Auntie Yu, I’ll be going now.”

Yu Lanzhou’s expression was somewhat somber. She reached out her hand and felt what seemed like raindrops. “It’s raining. I’ll have someone send you.”

“No need, I’ll be there soon by motorcycle.” Chen Ran got on the bike and put on her helmet. “The orphanage just called to say the procedures might be a bit slow. Since Yu Zhou is going abroad, I won’t be there to see her off.”

With a wave of her hand, Chen Ran said to her: “Good… goodbye.”

Yu Lanzhou cast a glance at her. “Goodbye.” She walked into that towering, closed gate.

After Chen Ran had ridden a few kilometers, the rain grew heavier. She looked up at the rainy sky and asked with a smile: Do I seem like a clown?

On the second night after leaving the Yu house in the pouring rain, Chen Ran was taken away by the police from her rented room.

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