Weakness Trap - Chapter 1

It had been almost a year since that awkward kiss under the oil-paper umbrella.

And there were only three months and fourteen days left until her contract with Yu Lingxue expired.

The autumn sunlight slanted like fine rain, falling upon the black-canopied boat, dyeing the ink-like hues with the colors of fall.

Yu Qingluan gripped the oar, slicing through the clear green water stroke by stroke, the patched skirt made from old cloth swaying gently with her movements.

Ripples trailed behind the boat, casting mottled shadows of river and light upon the water.

A bead of sweat trickled down Yu Qingluan’s temple, only to be swiftly carried away by the breeze.

“Qingluan, off to school?” As she rowed past house after house, Yu Qingluan heard the familiar greeting.

“Yes, Granny Wu, I’m heading to school.” She eased her grip slightly, letting the oar drift with the water’s ripples.

“School is good. Already a university student, good, good… Go to the big city someday, make something of yourself.”

Granny Wu’s misty, aged eyes gazed vaguely into the distant sky.

Her gaze seemed to pass through Yu Qingluan and the boat she had rowed for over a decade, through the ever-flowing Chu Yun River.

It spilled over countless brick-tiled buildings, settling somewhere near a patch of gray-green moss.

Yu Qingluan lifted her head at Granny Wu’s words.

The autumn light bathed her face, turning her peach-blossom eyes into translucent amber, lending a youthful vitality to her bold and spirited features.

In Granny Wu’s clouded eyes, she saw the river that had nurtured her.

The Chu Yun River wound its way in nine bends and eighteen turns, sometimes rushing, sometimes gentle, sometimes wide, sometimes narrow.

At its narrowest points, it broke into fragmented streams, yet it still managed to inconspicuously span most of Chu City, dividing this plain, unremarkable town devoid of tourists into countless fragments.

The streets were split this way. Here, in the middle of the river, clusters of willow trees grew beside the blue stone bridge, giving this area the name Willow Middle Bank.

The name was so plain that repeating it a hundred times would make it forgotten with the wind.

The place was so unremarkable that Yu Qingluan knew every permanent resident.

And the Chu Yun River, which gave it its name, meandered silently through the lives of everyone in Chu City with its muted apple-green hue.

A voice echoed in Yu Qingluan’s mind.

“After graduation, you’ll stay in Chu City, right?”

Yu Qingluan pressed her lips into a smile, dimples appearing like pearls on her cheeks.

She thought of her mother and grandmother, of her embroidery.

She thought of the person who had asked that question, the one with sweet lips.

“Granny Wu, I’m not leaving.”

Yu Qingluan’s voice trailed over the boat’s wake, covering Granny Wu’s kindly smiling lips.

Their daily exchange was so repetitive that even the dog nearby grew weary of it.

“Oh, staying is good too. Study hard, my girl.”

With that, Granny Wu lowered her head and continued washing the day’s vegetables.

The yellow dog at her feet, bored, wagged its tail and stared at the sky.

In the shade of the willow trees, Yu Qingluan rested her oar, stealing a moment of coolness, and opened her phone.

“Xiang Yan, I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.”

“Okay. Waiting for you to finish up. No one else can handle the final stitches like you.” Her friend’s voice came through intermittently.

“Can’t hear you!” Yu Qingluan rowed under the bridge, listening to the scratchy static in her ear, gazing at the damp darkness above, and suddenly curved her lips into a smile.

“I said I’m waiting for you!” Xiang Yan was annoyed by the poor signal.

“Okay!” Yu Qingluan hung up.

The autumn atmosphere had grown thick.

In spring, this bridge arch dripped relentlessly, dirtying her dark hair.

In summer, it trapped the heat, drenching her in sweat.

But in autumn, it merely clung to the moss, holding onto a hint of unresolved dampness.

Autumn was lovely. The slanting sun would warm old clothes, fallen leaves would adorn her worn hairpins, and the shimmering reflections on the river would seep into her cracked oar.

Fifteen minutes later, Yu Qingluan docked the boat by the shore and greeted the family who tended the boats here her embroidery senior, Wang Yining.

“Still embroidering opera costumes?” Wang Yining snipped the thread in her hand.

She had only finished junior high school, but after embroidering dozens of paintings, she felt she had accomplished something.

“Of course. My classmates need them.” The black-awning boat parted ripples of autumn light as Yu Qingluan, dragging her heavy backpack, skillfully leaped onto the bank.

“Alright. Next time, you should charge a bit for your effort, so you don’t have to take your mother begging elsewhere.” Seeing she couldn’t dissuade her, Wang Yining let it be.

“Let’s talk about it when winter comes!” Autumn sunlight filled Yu Qingluan’s eyes. She hurried off, rushing toward the meeting spot.

Autumn was indeed lovely. But Yu Qingluan, thinking of their soon-to-expire contract, looked forward even more to the coming winter.

“Hurry up, hurry up! The drama club rehearsal starts at three,” the club president urged Yu Qingluan, who was sprinting under her heavy load.

She ran alongside her.

“You’re so enthusiastic with the urging. Could you help me carry some.” Yu Qingluan was nearly crushed by her sewing supplies.

If not for the expense and inconvenience of taking a taxi and the sheer amount she had to bring, she would never row a boat and take the water route to school every day.

“You only have one bag, how can I help you with that?” The president jostled Yu Qingluan’s backpack, nearly tearing the seams.

“I’ll encourage you in spirit.” With that, she abandoned any thought of helping carry the bag.

Besides, the bag looked dusty, old, and tattered, covered in rain stains and who-knew-what grime.

Yu Qingluan panted, forcing her legs to keep moving.

Her ears unconsciously caught distant voices.

“See? The drama club has already started rehearsing. They’re serious, and that president is terrifying. If we don’t have the costumes ready by this afternoon.”

The president hovered beside Yu Qingluan like a resentful spirit, trying to intimidate her.

But Yu Qingluan wasn’t looking at the senior students performing for the drama club.

Just as the president cleared her throat, preparing to make a grand introduction.

“Scaring me, won’t help. Better to carry this.”

Yu Qingluan had no desire to listen.

She still had enough energy to give the president a light kick.

Her embroidered shoes, also patched in a few places, brushed against her playfully, leaving no mark.

“Sorry, sorry I’m late.” Xiang Yan appeared just in time, rescuing Yu Qingluan.

He took her backpack and was instantly weighed down.

Finally able to straighten her back, Yu Qingluan stared intently at the figure at the center of the crowd.

“I knew you were looking at Yu Lingxue.” The president slung an arm over Yu Qingluan’s shoulder.

“You’re heavier than my thread. Can’t hold you up, get off.” Yu Qingluan pushed her away.

“I’m just sharing gossip!” The president switched to swinging her arms.

“Speaking of Yu Lingxue, she’s absolutely a legend at our Chu University. A junior-year exchange student from Hong Kong. Rumor has it she’s actually a wealthy heiress, but everyone who’s met her says she’s incredibly kind, approachable, and not the least bit arrogant.”

Not an heiress, Yu Qingluan corrected silently.

“Traditional Chinese Medicine major, with professional skills that leave all the undergrads in the dust no, leave even the professors teaching those undergrads far behind. Capable of practicing independently, she once offered consultation slots at the university that sold out in ten seconds harder to get than tickets to a top idol’s concert. Her diagnoses were both accurate and swift, and every student who went to her for treatment sang her praises.”

It was one second. Yu Lingxue’s assistant had made a mistake and posted a hundred slots, and it took Yu Lingxue a full week to see all the students, leaving her utterly exhausted.

Yu Qingluan shook her head slightly, wondering how the rumor had gotten so distorted.

“Anyway, she’s undoubtedly the top star of our Chu University. Kind-hearted, beautiful, and incredibly skilled. No wonder she swept the ‘Goddess Ranking’ as soon as she arrived, and a month later, the ‘Male God Ranking’ was completely dominated by her fervent junior and senior female fans. She and us we’re just not from the same world.”

The club president assumed that Yu Qingluan, only a sophomore, wouldn’t know these legendary tales.

By the time she finished praising Yu Lingxue, the group had already entered the teaching building.

Yu Qingluan withdrew her gaze, her eyes sore from staring, and turned her stiff neck.

The afterimage of what she had just seen lingered in her mind.

Yu Lingxue stood amidst a crowd, surrounded by many people.

Some pressed close to her, their eyes filled with undisguised adoration.

Others smiled like sunflowers, their backs to the sun, facing Yu Lingxue, making her already fair skin seem to glow.

Some, standing a bit farther away, pushed fervently toward her.

Some were even her family’s guards and attendants, blocking the overly enthusiastic students to prevent them from harming Yu Lingxue, whose health had always been delicate.

The crowd was a blur of colors, yet it couldn’t obscure Yu Lingxue’s seemingly radiant figure.

“Please make way.” Yu Qingluan read Yu Lingxue’s lips and, in a daze, even seemed to hear her voice, clear and light as thin snow.

The words shattered softly in Yu Qingluan’s heart, like an oar slicing through the reflection of the setting sun.

Even her mere presence attracted such commotion.

In Yu Lingxue’s eyes, the gentleness and sincerity remained, without a trace of reproach or affectation.

She was a swan born with a throne and a crown, the senior with overwhelming popularity, the flawless daughter of a wealthy family.

Among the club president’s riddled-with-holes gossip, only one thing was correct.

They how could they possibly be from the same world?

She was just an ordinary seamstress from a modest family.

The most inconspicuous beginner among the eight thousand seamstresses in Chu City.

She had to ask neighbors for food, her clothes were mended and patched year after year, and her only friend was Xiang Yan, who was just as unremarkable as her.

Even getting to school required such an archaic method as rowing a boat.

Yu Qingluan had no time to complain about fate or resent the heavens.

She removed the band-aid from her hand, picking at the scab.

She turned out the patched pocket of her clothes, worn thin from multiple repairs, and pulled out a yellowed piece of cloth, retrieving the only new needle she owned.

Before the embroidery frame, she sat for an entire morning.

From seven until half-past two, Yu Qingluan finished the last petal, shaking out the garment.

“Done? Let me take a photo, and then we’ll deliver it to the drama club.”

The club president’s eyes lit up at the sight of the flower, snatching the clothes away.

Yu Qingluan, accustomed to the president’s blunt manner, sprawled in the chair to rest.

Unconsciously, she picked at the unhealed wound, the black scab rubbing against the yellowed hem of her clothes.

Just then, her phone rang.

Yu Qingluan’s mind still lingered on the recent stitches, her fingers moving absently.

After one breath, she jumped up.

The only person she had set a notification sound for, besides family, was…

Yu Lingxue.

Yu Qingluan frantically rummaged through her old backpack for her phone, only managing to tangle a mess of cords in her face.

By the time she found her phone, the message had long gone cold.

Yu Qingluan swiped open the icy screen and saw the note that made her heart race the most, Winter.

“All done, returning it to you. This piece is absolutely perfect. The drama club will definitely be satisfied,” the club president said, patting Yu Qingluan on the shoulder.

Yu Qingluan flinched abruptly, her hand moving faster than her mind as she closed the screen, preventing the president from seeing it.

The president, acting as if she hadn’t noticed, lowered her voice. “Between you and me, if nothing goes wrong, this outfit will probably be worn by Yu Lingxue.”

Yu Qingluan held her breath.

She and Yu Lingxue were undoubtedly from two different worlds.

Heaven and earth, like a goddess and an ant.

Yet the message just now had clearly and unmistakably caught her eye.

[Come to my place tonight.]