Shang Zhitao woke up in Luan Nian’s incredibly comfortable bed, seeing the ray of sunlight filtering through the curtains, she guessed it was already afternoon. She blanked out for a moment, then got up and went to the bathroom. She sat on the toilet for a long time without resolving any issues. After all, she was still not used to it. She silently praised her bladder—truly a bladder capable of handling big affairs. After washing her face and rinsing her mouth, she put on her clothes, made the bed, wrote a note and placed it on the pillow, then quietly left.

She hadn’t removed her contact lenses last night, and now her eyes felt dry, but she didn’t dare blink. When the wind blew, she blinked very carefully, afraid that her contacts might fall out. Standing at the entrance of Luan Nian’s community, she waited for a taxi. The security guard secretly glanced at her, thinking this girl didn’t look like someone in a special profession, but residents of this community wouldn’t normally walk to the entrance to hail a cab. Shang Zhitao smiled amicably at the security guard.

The afternoon sunlight in autumn was gentle and clear, quite satisfying. Except for the wind—why did Beijing’s autumn have such persistent wind? She watched the trees by the street swaying unsteadily in the wind, which reminded her of herself, clinging to Luan Nian’s body like an unstable tree.

Xin Zhaozhou also made her happy, but the happiness they brought her wasn’t the same. Xin Zhaozhou always asked her: Is this right? Is it here? Does it feel good? He cared about her feelings at every moment. Luan Nian didn’t. He never asked, he completely took the lead, and could hardly be called gentle, yet he drove her wild.

Shang Zhitao found herself strange. She thought her conscience would condemn her—things like: how could you have a one-night stand? How could you have sex without love? But she felt no condemnation. So I’m this open-minded! She quietly defined herself.

Sitting in the taxi, seeing the trees flashing by reminded her of Luan Nian; seeing the clouds in the sky also reminded her of him. Luan Nian was too dazzling. In her twenty-two years, Shang Zhitao had never met someone like him. She was full of curiosity about him and was attracted to him.

She got out of the taxi and ran back home, saw Sun Yu sitting on the sofa beckoning to her with her finger. Blushing, she ran back to her room and changed into a high-collar shirt. Sun Yu followed her in, closed the door, sat on her bed, and looked at her with great interest: “Want to explain what you did last night?”

Shang Zhitao pressed her lips together without speaking, sitting beside Sun Yu. No matter how high the collar was, it couldn’t hide the few marks on her neck. Sharp-eyed Sun Yu tugged at her collar: “Oh my, are you dating someone?”

Shang Zhitao hurriedly shook her head: “I’m not dating.”

“Then what’s this all about?”

Shang Zhitao didn’t know how to explain this matter. Sun Yu would laugh at her for being morally corrupt. But Sun Yu wouldn’t let her go, even pinching her face: “Come clean!” The joy of girls was just that simple—being able to sit together and gossip about something made them happy, especially when sharing their love history.

“It’s that boss I told you about, the one who made me resign,” Shang Zhitao finally said. She seemed not to have fully emerged from last night’s atmosphere; thinking of Luan Nian made her blush again. She had other friends later, but she had only told Sun Yu about Luan Nian, not even mentioning him to Yao Bei. She inexplicably trusted Sun Yu, and Sun Yu kept her secret. She became the only outlet for Shang Zhitao’s feelings about Luan Nian.

“You slept with your boss? The boss who made you resign?”

“It was an accident,” Shang Zhitao finally came up with an explanation: an accident. If someday she talked about it with others, she could say: I had an accident back then.

“Was it an accident or was it premeditated? I know you consider it an accident, but was it also an accident for your boss?” Sun Yu wouldn’t believe it. Many things between men and women seemed accidental but were premeditated. In Sun Yu’s view, her innocent roommate had been “planned” by her boss.

“Probably not…” Shang Zhitao denied it outright. It must have been an accident. What kind of person was Luan Nian? He had never really looked at her. How could he have planned this?

“Alright, alright, that’s not important. What’s important is…” Sun Yu lowered her voice: “How was it?”

When Sun Yu asked how it was, Shang Zhitao remembered Luan Nian’s sweat dropping onto her cheek, him lowering his head to lick it away, then transferring that salty wetness to the tip of her tongue.

“No need to answer, I know,” Sun Yu laughed. “Our little Taotao had a thoroughly satisfying night.”

“Is what I did wrong?” Shang Zhitao asked her.

“Right or wrong doesn’t matter. As long as you’re happy.” Sun Yu patted Shang Zhitao’s shoulder. “Let me tell you, at my previous company, a few colleagues had regular sex partners.”

“What’s the difference between a regular sex partner and dating?” Shang Zhitao didn’t quite understand.

Sun Yu laughed loudly at her confusion: “Oh, you… A regular sex partner just meets needs without emotional involvement. Because dating is troublesome, but everyone is busy, so having such a person saves a lot of hassle.”

“Oh.”

Shang Zhitao hadn’t slept enough. She felt a bit drowsy, yawned, and lay down on the bed. Remembering she had an English lesson scheduled with Long Zhentian that evening, she covered herself with the blanket to catch up on sleep. As soon as she closed her eyes, Luan Nian appeared. His breath against her earbone. Such a cold person, yet he liked to kiss during sex, his palm on her neck, the hollow of his hand on her chin, his thumb and forefinger pinching her face, pulling her towards him, kissing her fiercely. Such cold-hearted lips, yet burning hot when kissing.

Shang Zhitao thought: I’m done for, I think I’m getting addicted.

She jumped out of bed, ran to Sun Yu’s room, and seriously asked her: “Have you ever been addicted? When you were with your ex-boyfriend.”

“Hmm?”

“Like, closing your eyes and seeing only him, wanting to do things with him.”

“Of course,” Sun Yu giggled. “Shang Zhitao, you’re in trouble. Let me give you some advice?”

“What?”

“Ask your boss if he wants to be your regular sex partner.”

“No.”

Shang Zhitao ran back to her room. She felt she was done for. When she first had physical intimacy with Xin Zhaozhou, she didn’t like it because she always found the feeling strange. It was one night, in a small house in the countryside, when Xin Zhaozhou spent a long time kissing her, gentle and lingering, that she felt this was quite nice. But back then, Xin Zhaozhou was right beside her, at the same school. They spent every day together, secretly going out on weekends. Shang Zhitao didn’t need to be addicted because Xin Zhaozhou was right there.

She got up in the evening. Despite thinking countless times about Luan Nian’s beautiful body throughout the day, by evening she had forgotten about him and went to do what she had planned. She met Long Zhentian by the Houhai Lake. Long Zhentian chatted with her, speaking slowly. If Shang Zhitao encountered words she didn’t understand, she would interrupt him and ask. Long Zhentian told her he came to China because he liked girls in qipaos. The qipao was the most beautiful clothing in the world, and only Chinese girls could wear it with charm. He also asked Shang Zhitao: “Have you ever worn one?”

Shang Zhitao thought for a moment and asked Long Zhentian: “Does event etiquette count?”

Hadn’t she worn one before? In her freshman year, she was recruited as an etiquette hostess for a club event, wearing a small satin qipao, holding a small tray with business cards—quite ridiculous.

Long Zhentian, such a sunny and tall foreigner, and Shang Zhitao, such an obedient and cute Chinese girl—the two walking together provoked imagination from passersby. Shang Zhitao could even understand the meaning in people’s glances: another one trying desperately to marry a foreigner.

“So how do you translate what I just said?” Shang Zhitao asked.

“In your Chinese language, it means: ‘Experience is the best teacher,'” Long Zhentian patiently answered her.

“Oh, thank you.” Shang Zhitao carried a voice recorder with her. On her way back after each meeting with Long Zhentian, she would listen to their conversation twice more. Long Zhentian was an excellent teacher, patient, and friendly. Even when he corrected Shang Zhitao’s accent, he was endearing: “Oh~ your intonation could work in England.”

Shang Zhitao initially felt embarrassed, but later thought it didn’t matter: I’m learning! If I knew everything, why would I need to learn? I’m learning precisely because I don’t know!

Thinking this way, she put aside her pride.

After graduation, Shang Zhitao suddenly truly fell in love with learning. She began to find that learning was actually interesting, that knowledge was endless, like the universe, vast as the sea. Whenever she realized she had made even a little progress, she felt very happy. She would share with Yao Bei, Sun Yu, and Lu Mi, saying: “After I finish learning English, I want to learn French and Japanese too.”

Everyone thought she was just talking, but she wasn’t. Like today, no matter what happened the day before, whether she was tired or sad, she would meet Long Zhentian as agreed. They would chat about everything under the sun, and in this laughter and conversation, the world gradually opened up before Shang Zhitao’s eyes. A brand new world.

She said goodbye to Long Zhentian, and on the subway ride home, she remembered Sun Yu’s words: “You can be his regular sex partner. It saves a lot of trouble and solves problems.”

Shang Zhitao faced her desire. She typed in her phone message, deleted it, typed again, and finally sent a message to Luan Nian: “Luke, can we be regular sex partners?”

Later, when Shang Zhitao recalled her past self, she couldn’t explain why she had done such a thing, why she had sent such a message to Luan Nian. At the time, she thought she was brave, but later she realized it was absurd. With such a beginning, how could there be a good ending?

Why do people always do such foolish things when they’re young, as if foolishness doesn’t require paying any price?

Luan Nian was drinking with Tan Mian when he saw his phone light up. Shang Zhitao’s message came in, and his brow furrowed involuntarily. He felt that Shang Zhitao seemed to have found herself a way out, even thinking that Shang Zhitao wanted to sell her body. Or perhaps beneath her docile exterior lay a heart always wanting to run wild.

She might also have overestimated her performance in bed, though he admitted it was quite good. Luan Nian hated transactions. He felt Shang Zhitao was making a deal with him.

Luan Nian told her, “Sorry, yesterday was an accident.”

“Anything a man says while secreting dopamine can be considered nonsense. If anything I said gave you the wrong impression, I apologize.” Luan Nian’s words were just that harsh.

Shang Zhitao put away her phone, her fingertips trembling slightly. She knew she had overthought things. Luan Nian’s words last night, “Whenever you want, anytime,” clearly meant what he said now—words spoken by men after taking off their pants don’t count; it’s what they think when sober that matters. The sober Luan Nian wouldn’t even glance at her, so last night could be attributed to his “drunken folly.”

So what? I didn’t lose anything. Hiring someone like Luan Nian as a gigolo would probably cost a lot, but I didn’t spend a penny. I’m quite capable. Shang Zhitao mocked herself.

That night she slept well, leaving Luan Nian behind in her mind.