To Sweep Across Like Wildfire - Chapter 36

Chapter 36

Meng Chi was slightly taller than Shen Qingruo. When she looked down, she unintentionally fell into the other woman’s captivating gaze.

The subway carriage was crowded, forcing them to stand flush against each other. They could even hear the faint sound of each other’s breathing. It was the peak of summer; the car was packed with people, giving off a mix of sweat and humidity, yet Meng Chi smelled nothing but the light, elegant trail of perfume clinging to Shen Qingruo.

At the next stop, people pushed to get on and off. In the frantic shuffle, Meng Chi was jostled forward, closing the distance until they were practically pressed together.

Shen Qingruo’s back was against the cool wall of the carriage. Trapped within the small space between Meng Chi’s arms, she felt an unexpected sense of security. She whispered, “Did I ever tell you about the time I ran into a ‘salty dried fish’ molester on the subway?”

Meng Chi’s lips pressed into a tight line. She didn’t speak, only watched Shen Qingruo’s eyes.

“I twisted his hand until it snapped.”

Meng Chi let out a breath of relief. “That’s good.”

“Good? I had to pay three thousand yuan in compensation. The guy wanted a hundred thousand, but the police told him to give it a rest—said if he kept talking nonsense, he’d spend a few more days in a cell.”

Meng Chi thought for a moment. “Actually, I encountered something similar before. But the car was empty then; I sensed something was wrong and walked away, and the person didn’t follow.”

“You don’t look like someone who takes the subway often,” Shen Qingruo noted.

“I don’t,” Meng Chi admitted. “Later, I mentioned it to my mom. When my grandmother found out, she investigated and found the man often followed students. She called the police, and they caught him in the act later on.”

“Your family cares about you a lot,” Shen Qingruo said.

Meng Chi almost reflexively said, “They used to,” but she settled for a quiet “Mm.” It wasn’t that she was unwilling to share her family history, but she wasn’t sure if Shen Qingruo wanted to hear it.

Space was tight. After a moment, Shen Qingruo leaned her head gently against Meng Chi’s shoulder. She suddenly let out a soft chuckle. “Your heart is beating so fast.”

Meng Chi’s heart was indeed racing because of the proximity, but she figured there was no way Shen Qingruo could actually hear it through their clothes. Thinking the woman was just teasing her, she remained silent. Shen Qingruo didn’t push; she simply kept her head resting there.

Meng Chi could smell the faint fragrance of Shen Qingruo’s hair. If she tilted her head even slightly, her lips would brush against those silky strands. She kept her neck stiff and unmoving. Several times she almost gave in to the impulse, but she forced her eyes open and shut, using every ounce of willpower to suppress the urge.

Outside, the tunnel was pitch black save for the passing lights. She saw her reflection in the window—her eyes were misty, the corners slightly red. She looked like a stranger to herself. A powerful emotion was taking root and spreading through her chest; it felt as if the moment she opened her mouth, the feeling would come pouring out.

She felt like a flame in the dark, touching a thin sheet of paper and swiftly consuming it.

The train sped forward, piercing through the dark tunnel. There were moments of silence in the carriage where only the mechanical whirring of the tracks could be heard. Despite the crowded, uncomfortable conditions, Meng Chi found herself wishing time would stop right here.

…

When they reached their stop, the crowd pushed them out. Unlike the hurried order of the morning commute, the post-work crowd moved in their own time—some rushing home, others walking slowly to shed the day’s fatigue before scattering into the city lights.

Emerging from the station, the air felt much fresher.

Shen Qingruo took a deep breath. “It’s the smell of a summer night.”

“What does that smell like?”

“I can’t really describe it,” Shen Qingruo said. “But I like it.”

Meng Chi touched the bridge of her nose and sniffed a few times, but couldn’t detect anything specific. Remembering Shen Qingruo’s empty fridge and the expired snacks in her cabinet, she asked, “Is there a supermarket nearby?”

Shen Qingruo, who had been heading toward her home, stopped and patted her forehead. “I almost forgot, I need to buy you new pajamas. Come on, there’s a supermarket three hundred meters south.”

The supermarket was large and still busy. Once inside, Meng Chi headed straight for the food section, sweeping snacks into the cart. She pushed the cart at first, but Shen Qingruo eventually took over. After Meng Chi picked out two cartons of eggs, she realized Shen Qingruo had drifted away. She found her leaning over the cart handle, slowly inching forward while focused on her phone, her fingers tapping away at a message.

The supermarket lights were bright but not harsh, making Shen Qingruo’s pale skin look almost translucent. She looked the same as always—nonchalant and airy—yet something felt different.

When they first met, Meng Chi thought this woman was a literal succubus, perfectly suited for the glitzy nightlife. She couldn’t imagine her in a domestic setting. So, Meng Chi thought, even succubi have to go to the supermarket.

She walked up and tapped Shen Qingruo’s back to warn her she was about to hit a shelf, then placed the eggs in the cart. “I’ll push.”

Shen Qingruo, buried in work, gave an “Mm” and stepped aside. By the time she finished her task, Meng Chi was several paces ahead, standing tall by a shelf picking out food. From the side, her profile was sharp and beautiful. When she wasn’t smiling, she looked cold and unapproachable.

But the image in Shen Qingruo’s mind shifted. She imagined Meng Chi’s eyes turning soft like spring water, leaning into her face and whispering, Sister, do you like it?

Shen Qingruo’s cheeks flushed. She pressed her hand to her face to cool down, took a breath, and caught up.

…

At the checkout, Meng Chi beat her to the punch. She had clearly prepared for this; her finger was already on the payment app before Shen Qingruo even unlocked her phone. She looked calm, but there was a hint of smugness in her eyebrows.

Little brat, Shen Qingruo thought.

They ended up with four heavy bags of groceries. Shen Qingruo laughed, “People would think we’re preparing for an apocalypse.”

Meng Chi grabbed all the bags before Shen Qingruo could protest and marched ahead. Her youth gave her an advantage; Shen Qingruo almost had to jog to keep up. “Stop running! I’m not going to snatch them back! You’re going so fast the security guard thought you were shoplifting; he actually chased you for a few steps.”

Meng Chi looked back. The guard was leaning lazily against a railing, nowhere near “chasing” anyone. She turned back to find the mischievous glint in Shen Qingruo’s eyes. “Why is everything a joke with you?”

“Give me some,” Shen Qingruo said, dropping the teasing. “You’re carrying so much, aren’t your hands hurting?”

After much persuasion, she managed to take two bags—though Meng Chi only gave her the lightest ones. Shen Qingruo sighed, “How old do you think I am? Do you think carrying some snacks will make me crumble?”

She added, “Besides, you’re the one who needs to take care of your hands.”

“Why?” Meng Chi asked without thinking.

“You tell me.”

Meng Chi: “…” She understood. But she remained stubborn. “Don’t you need to take care of your hands too?”

She regretted it the moment it left her mouth. Why was she being so competitive about this?

Shen Qingruo only smiled and didn’t answer. Her lack of a rebuttal made a strange, uneasy feeling bubble up in Meng Chi’s chest.

…

Back at the apartment, Meng Chi busied herself sorting the snacks and produce into the fridge and cabinets, setting aside the expired items to throw out tomorrow. While she worked, Shen Qingruo collapsed onto the sofa.

“Stop cleaning, come rest. We can do it together later…” Shen Qingruo mumbled. Then later: “Hey, kid… are you trying to spoil me into uselessness?”

Then, silence.

When Meng Chi finished and looked over, Shen Qingruo had fallen asleep on the sofa, clutching the little plush starfish she had bought at the aquarium. Meng Chi walked over and gently tugged at the starfish. “Go sleep in the bed.”

“Haven’t showered…”

“Shower tomorrow?”

Shen Qingruo blinked her eyes open and stretched. “No, I can’t stand myself if I don’t.”

When Meng Chi finished her own shower and came out, she expected Shen Qingruo to be asleep. Instead, the woman was sitting cross-legged on the bed, her laptop on her lap, typing away furiously.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“The shower woke me up,” Shen Qingruo said without looking away from the screen.

Meng Chi lay down beside her and began doing some practice problems on her phone. Her gaze kept sliding toward Shen Qingruo’s face. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic chirping of cicadas outside.

That strange, nagging feeling from earlier finally crystallized into a solid realization.

As of this moment, Shen Qingruo had never touched her.