Weakness Trap - Chapter 4

Yu Qingluan felt only emptiness.

She tilted her head back to gaze at the mosquito net that hadn’t been put away yet, scratching her slightly itchy wrist.

A faint scent of roses lingered there a remnant from last night when Yu Lingxue had clutched her hand, weeping softly. The perfume had mingled with her tears, smearing across Yu Qingluan’s wrist.

Perhaps cooking fumes evaporated more easily than that perfume, dissipating completely before the night was over.

Yu Qingluan dawdled as she changed her clothes and left the room.

“Mom,” she called out, and Yu Shuhua already knew what she was going to ask.

“Your friend is much more hardworking than you. She got up early this morning and said she was going to the library to study for her exams,” Yu Shuhua was in the kitchen again.

Yu Qingluan, still groggy, wobbled her way toward the kitchen.

Her mother’s voice drew nearer, and the sizzling fumes from the stir-frying stung her sleepy eyes.

It had been like this for many years.

Every day, Yu Qingluan’s routine began with the sound of the spatula, and she returned home to the same noise.

This sound was more punctual than a rooster’s crow. Even when it rained, the rooster would hide, but her mother would still stand by the stove, wielding her spatula as if it were her most reliable weapon.

It was as if the kitchen were her mother’s respawn point. No matter how early Yu Qingluan woke up, her mother was always there.

A crackling “Time to eat” amidst the cooking fumes marked the opening ceremony of Yu Qingluan’s daily life.

Yu Qingluan had been looking at that apron-clad, floral-padded back for many years.

Only this morning’s conversation was different.

Yu Qingluan waved away the pungent smoke, scratched her wrist, and carried their breakfast to the table.

Yu Shuhua chattered on, using her wrinkles to tell Yu Qingluan how wonderful Yu Lingxue was.

“Look at her smiling face so sweet, just like a New Year’s painting doll. I took a liking to her at once and even wanted to invite her to stay for breakfast. But instead, she gave me a gift.”

Yu Shuhua waved her spatula, the corners of her eyes crinkling with delight.

Yu Qingluan couldn’t control her expression; laughter and surprise bloomed together.

“There, it’s by the door. I didn’t open it, thinking it might be for you. Go on and open it now. We’ll eat in two minutes.”

Yu Qingluan didn’t dawdle any longer.

It was as if she had finally awakened from the lingering tenderness tinged with worldly dust, facing the departed celestial being with ease.

At least she had left something behind.

At least, one day, she would return.

Yu Qingluan unwrapped the gift and found a box of ointment.

For relieving arthritis and rheumatic bone pain.

This wasn’t for her at all.

Yu Qingluan’s eyes still curved into a smile, but a barely noticeable bitterness seeped out for just a moment.

“Mom! It’s for you. Go ahead and use it.” She hurried to the kitchen doorway, nearly bumping into her mother, who was carrying out a dish.

“Look at you, so careless at your age. How could it be for me?” Yu Shuhua scolded out of habit.

Yu Qingluan glanced at her mother was practically beaming.

“She’s studying medicine, so she must have noticed your chronic leg pain,” Yu Qingluan explained casually at the dining table, finally calling her mother back from her prolonged examination of the medicine bottle.

“Oh, studying medicine,” Yu Shuhua said, putting down her glasses and neatly placing the bottle in the medicine cabinet.

“Studying medicine is good. It has a bright future. You should spend more time with people who study medicine.”

Her tone was just like when she used to urge Yu Qingluan to befriend the top students in elementary and middle school.

“Yeah, yeah,” Yu Qingluan replied dismissively, feeling a pang of discomfort.

She had never excelled in math and science, barely scraping by in liberal arts for exams.

No matter how many high-achieving students she befriended, none of them had ever shared a point or two of their college entrance exam scores with her.

For nearly a year, Yu Qingluan had been in intimate contact with Yu Lingxue, the medical student, yet the gap between them remained as vast as heaven and earth.

She was but a speck of dust, unworthy of a deity’s lingering gaze.

After all, how could a deity even notice dust?

And if they did, they might even find it filthy.

As Yu Qingluan rowed her boat across the Chu Yun River, gazing at the grayish river surface reflecting the shadowy sky, she thought:

Perhaps she would never catch up to Yu Lingxue in this lifetime.

What could she do to make Yu Lingxue pause for her?

Even if only to extend their contract for another six months.

During the day, it was time for professional courses.

Yu Qingluan leaned against the window, lost in thought, contemplating the needle techniques and compositions she would use back at the club in the afternoon. Occasionally, she fiddled with her phone, pretending to listen to the lecture.

It was at this moment that Yu Lingxue’s message arrived.

Yu Qingluan tapped into the chat and caught sight of yesterday’s message, followed by the glaring “Read” notification. She clicked her tongue in annoyance.

She didn’t like this messaging app. It was one commonly used in Yu Lingxue’s hometown, and it displayed read receipts far too clearly, stripping away the subtlety of unspoken understanding.

Just like last night she hadn’t been able to feign ignorance.

And when Yu Lingxue saw that she had read the message, she sent a smiling emoji.

【Winter: Remember to use the ointment for your mother. Winter is coming.】

Yu Qingluan traced the two characters of the sender’s name with her finger, feeling a storm of emotions brewing in her heart.

【Little Bird: Mm.】

Yu Lingxue, who was in the middle of bandaging her hand, chuckled at the curt, single-word reply and the full stop that followed.

Yan Wenying, who was wrapping her hand, raised an eyebrow.

Yu Lingxue didn’t meet her gaze, instead suppressing the laughter in her eyes.

She sent a photo to Yu Qingluan.

Then, she put away her phone and turned to the woman whose intentions were unclear, offering a gentle smile.

“You didn’t even ask for compensation after she fractured your foot. I really don’t know what you’re thinking. If the folks back in Hong Kong saw you like this, they’d be shocked. Who knows, the person who stepped on you might even.” Yan Wenying made a throat-slitting gesture.

“It’s not that serious.” Yu Lingxue lowered her gaze, withdrew her hand, and finished wrapping the bandage herself.

As a doctor, she knew her limits.

She had already sought acupuncture treatment from her mentor yesterday, so it shouldn’t be a big issue.

That was why she dared to visit Yu Qingluan.

Fortunately, Yu Qingluan had been blindfolded the entire time and hadn’t noticed anything amiss.

Otherwise, she would have had to coax her teary-eyed little rabbit not to worry too much.

Her little rabbit was now sitting in the back row of the classroom, waiting for her owner’s message.

Yu Qingluan loaded the image it was the mischievous kitten Yu Lingxue had risked injuring her hand to save yesterday.

The same kitten Yu Qingluan and Xiang Yan had seen at the theater.

What a tough little life, Yu Qingluan thought to herself, amused. If it hadn’t been for Yu Lingxue, who would have cared about the fate of a random cat in such a tense situation?

She sighed inwardly at her own thoughts.

The time she spent with Yu Lingxue was secretive and fleeting countless nights stacked together, devoid of stars or moonlight, with streetlights casting shadows too dim to see each other clearly.

Yet Yu Lingxue understood her perfectly.

It was as though she held Yu Qingluan’s emotions in the palm of her hand, plucking at her joy, anger, sorrow, and fear.

She was nothing more than Yu Lingxue’s puppet, never daring to contradict her.

And Yu Lingxue could soothe her with just a single image.

Wordless, yet it explained everything about yesterday.

The kitten was safe, and so was Yu Lingxue.

She was telling her not to worry.

Yu Qingluan lowered her eyes but deleted the image from the chat history.

【Little Bird: I’m in Mediterranean History class.】

She ended the conversation on her side, lest that mischievous woman tease her again about leaving messages on read.

Then she exited the chat window. Before closing the app, Yu Qingluan clicked into the software she had been browsing before replying to Yu Lingxue.

It was their university’s forum.

Pinned at the top was an adoption notice.

Yu Qingluan clicked into that post again and saw the photo of the kitten Yu Lingxue had just sent.

The feeling of being controlled grew even more pronounced.

She was nothing more than a rabbit for Yu Lingxue to toy with in her leisure time.

Yu Lingxue sought her obedience, her tranquility, occasionally bestowing affection and rewards upon her.

And she had truly accepted this position her greatest display of temper was nothing more than feeling slighted after being picked up and then ignored for five minutes.

Whenever she saw a message from Yu Lingxue, her heart would leap with such joy it ached.

This moment was no exception.

And so, Yu Qingluan felt no trace of anger.

Even though she had just learned that everyone else had known about the condition of the kitten Yu Lingxue rescued before she did.

Everyone also knew that the person they revered as a goddess had been safe and sound the day before.

Seeing that Yu Lingxue had stopped replying, Yu Qingluan turned off her phone completely and returned to the world of needlework.

Before immersing herself in that pure focus, she pushed away the overly negative thoughts,

It was impossible for her to know Yu Lingxue’s whereabouts at all times.

If something happened to Yu Lingxue, she would never be the first to know.

But if Yu Lingxue ever wondered where she was, all it would take was a single photo.

Even if it was just one photo that every student on campus had already seen.

She would lay herself bare in response.

How pitiful she had become.

While embroidering a winter scarf for Yu Lingxue, Yu Qingluan pricked her finger again, lost in thought.

They had only been intimate once, exchanged words once.

Yet her heart had been soaring with joy ever since.

So much so that even embroidery, which she had always regarded as her life’s calling, could no longer anchor her in reality.

She set down the needle and took a deep breath.

A faint itch on her wrist, the elusive scent of roses at the tip of her nose, the dampness clinging to her hair ends.

It felt as though she had returned to last winter.

Back under that red umbrella, led by that person to a secluded, hidden corner, holding hands to draw meager warmth from each other, hearts pressed together as they listened to the soft rustle of snow.

Back then, there was no faint sweetness of roses. Only the itch from her cold air allergy was more intense than now, and the snow-dampened ends of her hair felt heavier than this single strand.

The air was dimly lit, tinged with the ambiguous whiteness of fine snow and the subtle gray of ink-wash gardens.

The nearest streetlamp stood several meters away, and Yu Lingxue’s shadow fell over her, completely enveloping her sense of self.

Then came the kiss.

And a teasing remark.

Back then, with just one sentence, Yu Lingxue had taken possession of everything that followed in Yu Qingluan’s life.

“Lonely little bird. Want to try falling in love with me?”

Yu Qingluan felt as though she had become a fish thirsting for water.

That sentence, and Yu Lingxue who had uttered it with such playful mockery, had become her very source of life.

Every time she recalled it, her heart itched with longing, as if her heart, too, had been exposed to the cold wind, irritated into an allergic reaction by the chill.

Yu Qingluan sneezed.

Autumn had deepened.

Soon, the dry, itchy days of winter would arrive.

Yet, against all odds, she found herself looking forward to winter.

Just as she now longed for Yu Lingxue to appear.

Xiang Yan chose that moment to hand her a tissue.

“Thank you.” Yu Qingluan took it, pressing it to her face as she breathed in the cool air.

The tissue, too, carried the scent of roses, but it was cheap and pungent.

Yu Qingluan quickly tossed it aside.

“Waiting for her?” Xiang Yan had also brought a band-aid.

Yu Qingluan didn’t take it. A needle prick was a minor injury, one she was used to.

“Yes.” For once, Yu Qingluan didn’t deny it in front of her friend.

She had waited all afternoon for the club activities just so she could embroider her next piece in the drama club’s rehearsal space, waiting for the person who had promised to make a guest appearance.

But that person never came. The drama club was about to wrap up their rehearsal.

“Your allergy still no improvement this year?” Xiang Yan’s words carried a hidden meaning, his gaze fixed on the faint discoloration on Yu Qingluan’s wrist.

Yu Qingluan glanced down at it, her mind flashing back to the graceful figure of the goddess from the previous night.

“It’s too cold today.” So cold she thought winter had arrived early, and her skin was the first to react.

So it wasn’t the lingering traces of Yu Lingxue that made her itch.

Yu Qingluan let out a soft laugh and put away her needle. “Let’s head back.”

Xiang Yan silently gathered her things for her.

As they passed behind the theater, where rows of plane trees stood, the ground was already carpeted with fallen leaves in the early autumn.

Silence often sharpens the senses. Yu Qingluan heard the faint sound of someone else stepping on the leaves, accompanied by hushed conversation.

Almost as if guided by some unseen force, she tilted her head slightly, looking past Xiang Yan’s shoulder.

And there she was Yu Lingxue.

With a stranger, a girl wearing a diamond earring.

Yu Qingluan recalled that this girl had been the one most focused on Yu Lingxue the day before.

Then she noticed the small, blush-pink gift box in the girl’s hand.