Weakness Trap - Chapter 3

 

A sudden sound exploded by her ear, drowning out all others.

The willow branches swayed languidly, while the wind tugged at stray strands of hair, blurring Yu Qingluan’s vision along with them.

There was no time to collect her thoughts. A heavy gloom, restlessness, and a tinge of displeasure were brewing within her.

Her deity had descended to the mortal realm just for her.

An arm wrapped around her waist from behind.

A faint, sweet fragrance slowly seeped into Yu Qingluan’s heart, as if captured in a slowed-down frame.

The scent of roses wavered now strong, now faint.

In rhythm with Yu Qingluan’s heartbeat now constricting, now bursting.

“Didn’t we agree you’d come to my place tonight?” Seeing her little bird react, Yu Lingxue playfully whispered the words into Yu Qingluan’s ear.

Yu Qingluan’s heart ached in waves. She had no choice but to lower her lashes, pick up her sewing pouch again, and subtly brush off Yu Lingxue’s hand.

“I didn’t see you,” Yu Qingluan replied, doing her best to keep her tone as even as usual.

They had shared a year of tenderness Yu Lingxue had seen every side of her, and naturally, she noticed Yu Qingluan’s current displeasure.

Raising an eyebrow, Yu Lingxue followed her onto the boat.

This shouldn’t be happening. They had met just that afternoon.

She had even received the opera costume her little bird had embroidered especially for her.

The stitches were so meticulous, as if Yu Qingluan had poured her entire being into them.

Every thread seemed to pulse with the very lifeblood of her heart; touching it felt like delving into Yu Qingluan’s soul, brushing against the heaviest gram of her existence.

With such a masterpiece, what reason was there for temper?

Yu Lingxue had carefully examined the costume in the dressing room. Before coming, she had seen the trial photos taken by a friend and imagined how hard Yu Qingluan had worked over the past year.

She must have stayed up late, under dim lamplight, using the faint glow of stars to etch her thoughts and feelings onto that small piece of fabric.

Or perhaps on a rainy afternoon in Jiangnan, she buried her head in the dust-gray stitches, shutting out the world to immerse herself in the realm of embroidery.

Yu Lingxue had watched and accompanied Yu Qingluan during her embroidery sessions, and each time, she was deeply moved.

Wasn’t she the same when it came to practicing medicine?

They were two kindred spirits, destined to confess their affection for each other.

Yet, it seemed like a long time since she had last seen Yu Qingluan embroider.

“Busy bee,” Yu Lingxue remarked, brushing off Yu Qingluan’s dismissive reply as she found her usual cushion in the familiar awning boat and sat down casually.

“Move aside,” Yu Qingluan tossed her bag into the cabin.

Her awning boat could only accommodate one person.

How could it possibly hold a revered figure like Yu Lingxue?

“Little bird, you’re upset,” Yu Lingxue pointed out.

Her hand, restless and bold, came to rest on Yu Qingluan’s cheek.

She poked lightly, as if trying to uncover the hidden emotions beneath.

She cared about Yu Qingluan, which was why she asked.

If it were anyone else, even if she noticed, she would pretend not to. Unless they made a scene.

Those who didn’t matter could never carry weight in her heart.

Perhaps deities were destined to be heartless.

Two teardrops clung to Yu Qingluan’s drooping lashes.

Like morning dew, she blinked hard to dry away the humility.

The boat had already been untied from the dock, and the current nudged it forward, swaying gently.

There was no turning back. In the breeze, Yu Qingluan lifted Yu Lingxue’s hand.

“Does it hurt?” She had seen the red mark on the back of Yu Lingxue’s hand, bruised from being stepped on.

That crimson imprint seemed to sear her own hand, pulling at her pricked fingers and the dull yellow scabs, making them ache in unison.

Yu Lingxue seemed unaware, simply circling Yu Qingluan’s waist naturally. “Little bird, you’re so adorable.”

The scent of roses and snow seemed to bloom around her waist, and Yu Qingluan was annoyed by her frivolousness.

Yu Qingluan brushed her hand away gently then picked up the oar.

She had only intended to return home first to drop off her things, never expecting Yu Lingxue to appear out of nowhere.

Yu Lingxue watched intently as Yu Qingluan rowed the boat.

The people here lived by the water; everyone knew how to row.

Their movements were all the same one push, one pause.

But as Yu Qingluan wielded the oar, even the familiar Chu Yun River transformed into a celestial silver river.

The hem of her clothes spilled into the twilight, stretching into the colors of the evening clouds.

The willow branches swayed gently, and only the wind carried an aged melody from the shore, a lonely old man singing a song of homecoming.

It captivated Yu Lingxue’s gaze.

In that moment, there was only tranquility.

Inside the silent awning-covered boat, there was no one but herself and Yu Qingluan.

Yu Lingxue leaned against her cushion and closed her eyes for a brief rest.

Sometimes she wondered if her affection for Yu Qingluan was rooted in this very sense of peace.

As they passed under the bridge, Yu Qingluan’s movements were interrupted by Yu Lingxue’s cough.

She dropped the oar and hurried into the cabin, pulling out a handkerchief to press against Yu Lingxue’s lips with the devotion of a believer.

Yu Lingxue held her chest, took the handkerchief, and grasped her fingertips.

With a gentle tug, she drew Yu Qingluan into her embrace.

Yu Qingluan felt a flicker of irritation. She couldn’t tell if Yu Lingxue was teasing her.

“Not annoyed with me anymore?” Yu Lingxue, noticing she didn’t pull away, suppressed her cough and smiled as she shifted her position.

“I was never annoyed with you.” Yu Qingluan’s brows and eyes were filled with impatience.

“Hmm read but didn’t reply, and now you claim you didn’t see it.” Yu Lingxue genuinely laughed.

Dishonesty only compounded the offense.

Her little bird would have to face the consequences tonight.

Yu Qingluan bit her tongue, unable to speak.

“I just wanted to go back and put down,” Before she could finish her sentence,

Yu Lingxue traced the familiar contours of her face in the darkness and kissed her speechless lips.

The delicate sweetness of roses was woven into her very being through that kiss.

Yu Qingluan caught Yu Lingxue as she rose unsteadily, wrapping her arms around her waist and bearing her weight against herself.

She felt the long, unusual rhythm of her breathing and soothed her fragile body.

They warmed the cabin with their presence.

The chill of the autumn night had already spread across the riverbed, yet it found no entry under the bridge.

They warmed each other until they burned.

The heat of their breath scorched their cheeks; the warmth of their lips melted their hearts.

A kiss strung together all their emotions restless, surging.

Finally, it faded into the endless darkness.

Yu Qingluan closed her eyes, and in her mind, she saw only Yu Lingxue’s radiant form adorned in opera attire.

When she opened her eyes, the cabin was dimly lit, outlining their silhouettes.

A few scattered lights shimmered on the river, making Yu Lingxue’s eyes sparkle like illusions in the snow.

Yu Qingluan released Yu Lingxue’s collar.

As if nothing had happened, she straightened her disheveled collar and smoothed her tousled hair.

She heard Yu Lingxue’s soft laughter, strained from her fragile state light as a feather yet heavy on her heart, tingling with an elusive itch.

“We’ll be at my place in five minutes.” Yu Qingluan pressed her lips together, trying to preserve the lingering rose fragrance.

“Qingluan, you’re back so late.” Yu Shuhua poked her head out from the kitchen, holding a spatula.

“I ran into a classmate on the way.” Yu Qingluan replied casually, as always.

Mother understood her child. After greeting the classmate she brought home, she slipped back into the kitchen to continue her work.

Yu Lingxue observed Yu Qingluan’s home.

This wasn’t her first time here.

She knew there was a kerosene lamp in Yu Qingluan’s home that always refused to light in winter.

There was a brick wall covered in graffiti, and once, when Yu Qingluan wasn’t looking, Yu Lingxue had imitated her childhood handwriting, scribbling words of companionship next to a tiny drawing of Yu Qingluan.

There was a carved bed that creaked with every turn, its wood worn and corroded by the southern dampness, teetering on the brink of collapse.

Today, Yu Lingxue discovered that Yu Qingluan had a mother who resembled her closely.

Their steps were equally unhurried, and when they walked, their right feet always seemed to kick out slightly, as if nudging away pebbles on the ground.

Their voices were similar too, soft and gentle. Their faces mirrored each other slender eyebrows and watery eyes replicated perfectly between mother and daughter.

And so, Yu Lingxue came to accept this tiny home.

Its shabbiness transformed into warmth. This was the home where Yu Qingluan had grown up.

Yu Shuhua had gone into the kitchen.

Soon, the smell of cooking oil seeped out, threatening to choke anyone into tears. The clatter of the spatula seemed to shake the very heavens.

Yu Qingluan quietly took Yu Lingxue’s hand, trying to pull her into her own room.

Yu Lingxue squeezed back firmly, and the two stumbled onto the creaking carved bed.

“Tonight?” Yu Lingxue lowered her voice, her implication hanging in the air.

The sounds of cooking drowned out her words. Yu Qingluan traced the shape of her lips with her gaze.

“Up to you,” Yu Qingluan held her tightly.

Her embrace was fierce. With every flip of the spatula in the kitchen, her pulse seemed to contract, struggling to slow down.

As if by stretching a single breath, she could make this moment last an eternity.

Yu Lingxue watched her, silent for a long time.

And in that instant, time truly seemed to stretch.

As if the bed would creak only a century later. As if the sounds of her mother cooking would never cease.

Yu Qingluan’s room was darker than the riverbank. The door groaned in the wind, and she could barely make out Yu Lingxue’s face.

She just suddenly, desperately, wanted Yu Lingxue to stay.

So Yu Qingluan closed her eyes first, mustering a rare initiative, and pressed a haphazard kiss to Yu Lingxue’s face.

Her goddess, her Yu Lingxue.

The untouchable senior, the flawless immortal.

With this kiss, Yu Qingluan wanted to pull her into the mortal world.

To taint her ethereal coldness with the pungent scent of cooking oil. To dye her aloof gaze with the warmth of decay.

After an overly fervent kiss, Yu Lingxue responded.

“I told Aunt Fang I won’t be going back tonight.”

Her goddess had chosen to remain in her mortal world.

Yu Lingxue had always been more popular with elders than she was.

During the meal, Yu Shuhua kept praising Yu Lingxue now complimenting her elegance and beauty, now her pleasant personality and eloquence.

The taciturn Yu Qingluan ate in silence, ignoring her mother’s chatter.

Yu Shuhua eventually ran out of things to say and fell quiet.

“Why does your mother like… comparing so much?” Yu Lingxue asked carefully, searching for the least offensive word, as she accompanied Yu Qingluan while she washed the dishes.

Yu Lingxue’s health was delicate, and she couldn’t stay in cold water for long, so Yu Qingluan didn’t ask for her help.

“Mothers are all like that,” Yu Qingluan said, her hands tucked in her pockets, cold as ice after washing the dishes.

“Elders are all like that,” she corrected herself after a moment of thought.

Yu Lingxue quietly slipped her hand into Yu Qingluan’s pocket. “My mother isn’t like that.”

“Then it must be a local quirk.”

Yu Qingluan had intended to refuse holding hands this time.

Yu Shuhua knew nothing of their relationship, and Yu Qingluan had always kept this ambiguous connection well hidden so well that aside from Xiang Yan, no one else was aware of it.

Occasionally, even Yu Qingluan herself nearly forgot that she was still involved with Yu Lingxue.

But Yu Lingxue was too resolute, while Yu Qingluan was too hesitant.

With the slightest touch, their hands clasped together.

Yu Shuhua was still sitting in the living room, embroidering.

Yet, just a wall away, Yu Qingluan was tightly holding Yu Lingxue’s hand.

Yu Lingxue’s hand was distinctly not warm frail girls often had cold bodies.

But Yu Qingluan truly felt the patch of skin where they touched was scalding hot.

So hot that she turned her head, irresistibly leaning closer to Yu Lingxue, about to kiss her.

Yu Lingxue closed her eyes, a slight smile curling her lips.

“What are you two planning to do tonight?” Yu Shuhua’s voice happened to drift in from the living room.

Startled back to her senses, Yu Qingluan quickly pressed her hand over Yu Lingxue’s lips.

“No need, it’s late. We’ll just wash up and go to sleep,” she hurriedly explained, turning her head.

Even though their brick walls were covered in moss and marred by childhood drawings, they weren’t transparent Yu Shuhua couldn’t see what they were doing.

Yu Lingxue watched Yu Qingluan’s flustered state with a secret smile.

After washing up, she wrapped her arms around Yu Qingluan’s waist from behind.

Yu Qingluan jolted, freezing in the shower, not daring to move.

“Hey, little bird,” Yu Lingxue turned the faucet back on.

“How are you going to keep me company tonight?” She hadn’t come to Yu Qingluan’s house just for a meal.

The sound of running water muffled Yu Lingxue’s words.

Yu Qingluan cleared her mind of all thoughts.

She forgot she was supposed to conserve water. Forgot that in her own home, they might be heard or discovered.

The only thing she couldn’t forget was Yu Lingxue right behind her.

Completely unclothed, their skin pressed together.

By the time Yu Lingxue kissed her ear, Yu Qingluan had already lost her sense of hearing.

Later, when Yu Lingxue covered her eyes, she lost her sight as well, begged by her revered deity to take action on their narrow, carved bed.

Yu Lingxue’s body was perpetually weak, and today was no exception unable to engage in strenuous activity, she could only lie still.

Yu Qingluan had to please her deity without being able to see.

And she couldn’t move too vigorously if the carved bed made frequent noises, it would surely alert Yu Shuhua next door, who hadn’t yet fallen asleep.

She also had to pay attention to Yu Lingxue’s condition.

If she became too overwhelmed, Yu Qingluan had to kiss her.

She couldn’t let Yu Lingxue make too much noise.

Although, Yu Lingxue was truly as aloof as an immortal; even at the height of passion, she only let out soft gasps.

Yu Qingluan was just too afraid, and too excited.

When she closed her eyes and kissed her, Yu Qingluan regained all her senses.

Light and warmth flowed into her through the kiss, shaking her mind.

The sweet scent of roses bloomed at Yu Lingxue’s wrist, clung to her hair, brushed against her waist.

The taste of sacrilege was sweet.

The mortal world was thick and sticky, hard to move through.

Yu Qingluan tried to encourage Yu Lingxue’s every move, wanting to keep her goddess with her as long as possible.

Later, she caught the scent of her mother’s cooking smoke in Yu Lingxue’s hair.

The night was too deep. Yu Qingluan remembered taking off her blindfold before falling asleep, holding Yu Lingxue, kissing her face, but her eyes had closed.

She opened her eyes to pitch darkness in the room, but couldn’t feel any warmth or softness beside her.

Yu Qingluan turned her head and saw the window bathed in moonlight.

There, hidden in the dimness, was the familiar silhouette she knew so well. The cold light was hazy and indistinct, devoid of warmth or weight, making it impossible to see clearly.

Yu Lingxue seemed to be talking to someone, her voice too faint and distant for Yu Qingluan to hear or discern.

She had returned to the state she was in during their lovemaking, yet she couldn’t recapture that fervor.

As Yu Lingxue walked away, Yu Qingluan’s heart grew cold with despair.

She couldn’t bring herself to rise, couldn’t bear to let the old carved bed creak and disturb the silence, couldn’t open the drafty door or climb out the window where light seeped through.

Yu Lingxue was like moonlight no matter how she tried to grasp or hold it, it would inevitably slip away.

In just eight short hours, the night illuminated by moonlight had passed. Their time together had come to an end.

Just as Yu Lingxue had once said, their love was an experiment, a fleeting amusement.

It was Yu Qingluan who had tried to please Yu Lingxue, night after brief night.

She couldn’t ask her to stay, couldn’t foolishly hope that someone from another world would linger for her.

The Yu Lingxue who belonged to her had to leave, to return to that opulent and dazzling throne.

Only Yu Qingluan would remain in her shabby little room, clutching the quilt she’d used all her life, tossing and turning on the worn-out bed until sleep took her.

They had never been from the same world to begin with.

So Yu Qingluan closed her eyes, obediently coaxing herself back to sleep.

Perhaps, deep down, she still clung to a secret, foolish hope.

When she opened her eyes again, it was already dawn.

And as expected, there was no trace of that person by her pillow.

Only a faint, clear scent of roses lingered in her hair.

Unmarred by the greasy smell of cooking.