A Guide to Wasting Life - Chapter 12

Around seven in the evening, the crowd by the lake had changed again.

Xu Nianzhu stared ahead, slightly lost in thought.

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed someone laughing as they walked past. They even turned to glance back a few times. At first, she didn’t pay much attention since she didn’t recognize them. But a moment later, she saw the person turn around, bend down to take a closer look at the people sitting on the bench, and call out with a hearty, “Hey, bro!” full of energy.

Xu Nianzhu snapped out of her thoughts, turning her head to see the young man glancing hesitantly between her and Zhou Qi before nervously blurting out, “Bro, are you guys … fighting?”

The concern in his tone seemed almost too natural-so natural that Xu Nianzhu began to question whether this “bro” was genuine. Could it really be such a coincidence to run into one of Zhou Qi’s relatives?

Just as she hesitated about whether to clarify, there was a crisp “smack” sound. The woman linked to the young man’s left arm lightly slapped him on the back. Apologizing for her boyfriend’s lack of tact, she explained that he was young and not very perceptive. Then, with a playful pout, she twisted his arm in mock annoyance, “You never fight, yet you still won’t be as patient as this when helping me put on medicine? Hmm? Heartless little brat.”

After that, the woman smiled at Xu Nianzhu. “Enjoy yourselves, don’t mind us.” With that, she nudged the young man forward.

Xu Nianzhu didn’t even get a chance to speak the entire time. In the end, though, the woman’s words did remind her of something. She lowered her head, realizing their current position, and tried to pull her hand back, only to have it held firmly in place.

Zhou Qi seemed unbothered, continuing what he had been doing.

Unable to budge, she gave up and let him do as he pleased.

“Is that your cousin, or maybe your half-brother?” Xu Nianzhu asked, recalling that he’d once mentioned only having a younger sister.

“Neither,” Zhou Qi replied with a quick glance her way, his tone casual. “I ran into him earlier when you left me stranded by the roadside. We hit it off, so we chatted for a bit.”

Xu Nianzhu froze, letting out a dry, awkward chuckle.

How could this person hold grudges so easily?

Sure, she was wrong for leaving him behind, but could he not cut her just a tiny bit of slack?

Deciding to steer the conversation in a different direction, she asked, “Does our relationship really look so bad that people would think we’re arguing? Did I actually do something?”

After the ointment had fully absorbed into her elbow, Zhou Qi finally looked up. Seeing her staring at him in bafflement, he studied her for a moment before saying, “Maybe you could try smiling? Your expression looks a bit too intense.” Raising an eyebrow slightly, he patted her knee and placed a tissue on the bench. “Rest your leg here.”

Now that he mentioned it, she realized she had been sitting a little too stiffly just a moment ago.

Xu Nianzhu was taken aback. Seeing Zhou Qi’s posture, as if he was going to help her, she quickly waved him off, embarrassed. “No, no, really, you can’t even see it-my skirt is covering it.”

“You’re right, it’s not visible,” Zhou Qi said, stretching out his hand and tracing a circle in the air about five centimeters in diameter. “But it’s this big and very red.”

“Are you serious?”

Xu Nianzhu was startled. Skeptical, she lifted the hem of her skirt slightly. True enough, when she felt along her right calf, there was indeed a swollen bump. And now, perhaps just the suggestion of it, a spot that hadn’t bothered her before started to itch terribly. She began to scratch at it.

“It’s evil. Pure evil,” she muttered, resting her chin on her knee. She pressed the bump with her nail, leaving faint indentations, before looking up at him. “You didn’t get bitten, did you?”

“Nope.” Zhou Qi shook his head.

“Why not?”

Seeing her indignation, he laughed. “Maybe it’s because I’m not blood type A or O? My blood isn’t sweet enough to appeal to mosquitoes?”

“Alright, Mr. Great Universal Donor,” Xu Nianzhu teased, taking the green ointment he handed her. “So, what about you? AB? Or B?”

For a moment, she even found herself recalling the high school biology charts about possible blood types from parental combinations. It had been years since she last thought about them, and even back then, it had taken her forever to digest that basic knowledge.

Zhou Qi caught the curiosity in her expression and replied casually, “Panda Blood¹.”

Xu Nianzhu’s curious eyes went wide, instantly rounded by her surprise. She froze, blinking twice, her thick lashes fluttering lightly. “You seriously have to watch out. I had a roommate once-”

Zhou Qi’s smile deepened as he watched her, gesturing for her to continue.

“My roommate from undergrad was also Panda Blood,” she said, pausing her scratching as her focus shifted entirely to him. “One time, we went to donate blood together. Somehow, her information was leaked. Afterward, she received at least five calls a day from people trying to buy her blood at ridiculously high prices. The caller IDs came from so many places that the cities practically filled in the whole map of China.”

“Do you know what happened in the end?”

“What?” Zhou Qi asked, leaning slightly closer, genuinely intrigued.

“She went through dozens of phone numbers in just a few months before they finally stopped finding her. Only then did the harassing calls stop,” Xu Nianzhu said, shaking her head.

Whenever Xu Nianzhu told long stories, she had the habit of locking eyes with the person she was talking to, her gaze clear and earnest. It gave her words a weight that made even the most far-fetched tales feel believable. Suddenly, no matter how implausible it sounded, one couldn’t help but fully immerse themselves in her narrative.

Zhou Qi knew this all too well; he’d experienced it firsthand. Those eyes of hers-without her even realizing it-could draw someone in completely, pulling all their senses into her orbit. It was a talent she wielded effortlessly, leaving him no choice but to be captivated.

At last, Xu Nianzhu twisted the cap of the Green Ointment back on and noticed that the person in front of her didn’t show much change in expression. She seriously placed the ointment back into his hands, her tone stern: “So to summarize it, you have to be careful of me.”

Finally, he showed some reaction.

Zhou Qi put the items away, resting one hand on his leg, turning to look at her. He earnestly rephrased what she had said as if doing a comprehension exercise and then smiled as he asked, “Careful of what?”

“Careful of being deceived by me,” Xu Nianzhu pretended to be fierce, jokingly saying, “And then I might catch you to sell your blood for money.”

She thought he would use some bold and righteous statement to “advise” her to obey the law.

However, the surroundings fell silent for a moment, and then he slowly said, “What if, say, you’ve already been deceived?”

Though they hadn’t drunk anything, it felt as if both of them were under some sort of intoxication at that moment.

Xu Nianzhu stumbled into his gaze unprepared, where waves surged forth, gradually threatening to overwhelm her.

They didn’t know how long they held each other’s gaze in silence.

But someone had to take a step forward first to resolve this seemingly lucid nightmare.

That person was Zhou Qi: “I-”

The three words hovered on the tip of his tongue.

Before he could finish, Xu Nianzhu leaned in without thinking, her hand brushing against his cheek, covering his partial smile and the remainder of his words with her lips.

She closed her eyes, removed his glasses with one hand, and slowly climbed up onto his shoulder, her fingertips tightly gripping his shirt. It was still awkward, but perhaps the urgency made the entanglement seem reasonable.

No need to say it; just knowing is enough, keeping it in her heart is enough. She told him with her lips. Don’t say it.

As her tongue touched the scab from last night’s bite on his skin, Zhou Qi firmly grasped her hand that was resting on his face, pulling it to his heart. It was hot, urgent, and intense, as if even through the fabric, it would burn a hole in her hand. Completely unable to break free, he held on tightly.

Oxygen was running low, Xu Nianzhu’s face flushed, and several times she tried to pull back, only to be pushed back by Zhou Qi’s hand on the back of her head. He was biting her back and responding in kind.

It was overwhelming.

Something indescribable was falling.

Xu Nianzhu felt like she was about to drown in this moment that wasn’t too gentle.

Her chest felt full, and she seemed to hear the sound of wind blowing in her ears, along with many long-lost voices. Her nose suddenly tinged with a sourness, her lips began to tremble, and the suppressed emotions were opened without reason.

“Plop.”

A single tear fell onto their clasped hands-clean, quiet, and solitary.

Zhou Qi froze, thinking he’d squeezed too hard and hurt her. He quickly released her hand, only to find Xu Nianzhu smiling faintly.

He gently pinched her cheek, then lowered his head, their foreheads touching lightly.

The sky was shifting to a deep indigo, the early moon like a pale kiss.

And there, they shared a kiss that felt more like a claim than a tender moment.

A few passersby glanced their way, but amidst the flurry of activity at that hour, they blended into the background – another couple lost in the embrace of early evening.

A touch of awkwardness lingered between them as they looked at each other for a moment. Xu Nianzhu was still catching her breath from the kiss, her mind a blank.  She blurted out the first thing that came to mind: “Zhou Qi, you’re bleeding from your lip again.”

“Yeah, I don’t know what little cat bit me. Twice, apparently,” he replied, making no move to wipe it away, letting the blood clot naturally.

She’d never heard him speak like that before.  She felt a blush creep up her neck, a warmth spreading through her.

“And you still…,” Xu Nianzhu paused, searching for the right word, “…nibbled on my tattoo.” She’d originally wanted to say “sucked,” but it sounded odd.

Zhou Qi chuckled at her choice of words. He raised his hand halfway, wanting to pull her closer, but hesitated.  “Another hug?” he asked.

Xu Nianzhu playfully dodged him. “No more hugs for you.”

“Okay. Next time, then.”

He hung his head, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned. His voice was soft, almost a murmur, unclear to whom it was addressed.

Xu Nianzhu’s hearing was sharp; she heard him.

But next time? Who knew when that would be?  It felt undefined, vague; “next time” stretching into an indeterminate future.

“Should we head back now? To my place,” she suddenly asked. “If it’s on your way, I’ll drop you off first.”

The implication was clear.

Perhaps she was gambling, perhaps she felt that simply asking would make him agree.  But she still offered him a choice, not anxiously awaiting his reply.  Either way, she would be fine.

Zhou Qi’s smile vanished. He retracted his hand from the back of the chair, stood up, and their eyes met.  He lowered his voice, repeating her last few words:  “Drop you off first.”

An unusual chill settled in the air.  Xu Nianzhu knew she was at fault-she’d stopped him from saying what he wanted to say, yet still invited him to continue the evening.

Without a word, she nodded.

The injured party was subsequently placed into the car.

Xu Nianzhu repeatedly emphasized that she was fine and could walk on her own, but Zhou Qi firmly held her in place and shut the car door.

On the way back, she rested her chin on the car window frame, cushioning it with the back of her hand. Staring at the shifting night scenery outside, she asked out of the blue, “Zhou Qi, what was your major in school?”

When no response came, she answered herself, “Never mind, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk.”

Zhou Qi sighed, his eyes fixed on her silhouette. “Applied Psychology.”

For some reason, that struck a chord with Xu Nianzhu. She turned toward him with a chuckle. “That makes sense.”

Zhou Qi quickly averted his gaze. “Makes sense how?”

“Nothing specific.”

Unable to follow her train of thought, Zhou Qi gave a helpless reply, “What do you mean ‘nothing specific’?”

Xu Nianzhu stifled a laugh and responded with a simple “Hmm,” before leaning back into her seat again.

Of course, she wasn’t naive enough to attribute his behavior-like knowing almost immediately what she was thinking-to his major entirely. It wasn’t as if he’d studied some mind-reading technique from a class. She simply found the revelation unexpectedly interesting.

Without traffic, they arrived at the hotel entrance within a few minutes.

Once out of the car, Xu Nianzhu had barely stepped onto the stairs when Zhou Qi called to her from behind, asking, “Are you hungry?”

She didn’t usually eat late-night snacks and stepped back down a stair to meet his gaze. “I’m not hungry. Are you? If you are, I’ll join you.”

She waited for a moment.

But the conversation ended there.

Two other hotel guests passed by, dragging large suitcases. Xu Nianzhu moved to the left side of the stairs to make room for them to pass.

As the silence dragged on, she lowered her head, intently watching the suitcases’ wheels as they rotated and dragged against the steps. The effort of dragging them upward seemed almost to strain the wheels to breaking, leaving behind deep black marks on the stair surface. When the suitcases were finally lifted to stable ground, she exhaled deeply, as though releasing tension she hadn’t realized she was carrying.

The small distraction had dissipated her previous emotions. Feeling tired now, Xu Nianzhu shuffled her feet slightly, then looked up and spoke gently, “Let’s head back. Get some rest.”

“Okay.”

Okay.

Xu Nianzhu nodded faintly, her heart tightening with an inexplicable chill.

She regretted asking that question earlier in the evening. It had been a bad choice, but there was no undoing it now.

Emotions surged in her chest as Xu Nianzhu opted not to hesitate longer. She turned to walk away, only for Zhou Qi to suddenly grab her hand from her pocket and pull her toward the hotel elevator. His grip was strong.

The pain at her wrist was sharp. Xu Nianzhu instinctively yanked her hand free with force. “What are you doing?”

“I promised you,” Zhou Qi replied, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

Confused, Xu Nianzhu asked, “Promised me what?”

How strange. It was as though neither of them could understand what the other was saying today.

The elevator doors happened to open just then, and two people stepped out. It was evident they had overheard Xu Nianzhu’s earlier, somewhat loud question, as they gave the pair several curious glances. Xu Nianzhu instantly fell silent, her heartbeat thundering in her chest like a drum. Lost in her thoughts, she was abruptly guided into the elevator by Zhou Qi’s quick strides.

Swipe card. Press button. Twelfth floor.

Xu Nianzhu stared at Zhou Qi in disbelief as he efficiently carried out a series of actions.

“Wait, you-?”

Zhou Qi glanced at the ascending numbers on the elevator display and spoke without answering her question. “There’s still time. Is it your place? Or mine?”

A ringing started in Xu Nianzhu’s ears. Her movements and thoughts became completely disjointed, leaving her incapable of coherent thinking. She found herself dumbly staring at the man before her, who was in the process of undoing the top button of his shirt. The veins on the back of his hand faintly stood out as they moved with his knuckles.

Her throat felt parched, and the sound she finally managed to utter turned into a single, inexplicable “You.”

Zhou Qi seemed amused. He pulled his tie loose and balled it up in his hand, his gaze casting over their reflections in the mirrored elevator doors.

The only thing Xu Nianzhu distinctly remembered was the soft “ding” of the elevator reaching their floor. Everything afterward became a blur. She had no idea how she ended up being pulled by the hand, twisting and turning through the hallway, stopping in front of a room number, only to be pushed unceremoniously against the wall by the door. Her back hit the surface hard with a loud thud.

But the impact she dreaded didn’t come. Zhou Qi’s hand had braced her back a moment before she hit.

“Don’t… don’t do this here, okay?” Xu Nianzhu was on the brink of losing her composure. At this hour, someone could step out from one of the neighboring rooms at any moment. She turned her body, reaching for the keycard in his hand, determined to open the door instead.

Zhou Qi caught her hand and slid the keycard into his pants pocket.

It was a loose pair of suit pants, and Xu Nianzhu froze, unwilling to move further. Her palm pressed against the wall, but her fingertips-their slight trembling-gave away her tension.

She bit her lip and tilted her head back, their gazes locking under the shadowy warmth of the golden hallway light. Neither of their gazes was wholly innocent.

Every angle seemed perfect for a kiss. Zhou Qi’s Adam’s apple bobbed as his eyes lingered on Xu Nianzhu’s face.

He leaned in slowly, but she turned away, dodging him.

Undeterred, he reached for her again, his eyes burning with intensity. She twisted her face aside once more.

“Xu Nianzhu.”

His voice was soft, addressing her tentatively, like a whisper shared in an intimate secret, afraid of disturbing something fragile. His face was buried in the curve of her neck, his breath warm against her skin.

It felt as though she had stopped breathing entirely. From head to toe, Xu Nianzhu was tingling, completely overwhelmed.

When he let go of her hand, Xu Nianzhu instinctively pressed against his shoulders to steady herself, afraid her unsteady knees would give way beneath her. She knew what he wanted to ask, so she spoke before he had the chance.

“You want to ask why I wouldn’t let you say it, right?”

“Yes,” Zhou Qi said without hesitation, and after speaking, he felt empty inside, even though he had planned to take things slow earlier that evening. He took a deep breath. “I’m not…”

Xu Nianzhu placed her index finger on his lips: “I can tell you.”

She spoke calmly, “Zhou Qi, I can tell you, I like you too. You staying here with me today has been the happiest moment for me these past few days. I admit that initially, I had other thoughts, but…”

But what she wanted to say was that after thinking it through calmly, they would inevitably separate at the end of this trip, and it was highly unlikely that she would go to Jiang City. A long-distance relationship? She didn’t think she could endure it. If starting a relationship meant not having corresponding companionship in life, then she’d rather not bind two people with such a relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to either party.

“Zhou Qi, liking and loving are not the same. We’ve only known each other for less than three days, we…” She was too confused and suddenly didn’t know what else to say.

“So, you would let someone you’ve only known for three days into your room?” he said hoarsely, his breathing heavy, as if each word weighed a ton.

Xu Nianzhu’s head was throbbing; she bit her lip, closed her eyes, and agreed.

“Do you still want this?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly with tears.

She had fallen hard. So much so that when his breath, trembling with restraint, brushed against her forehead, her mind wandered, her balance faltered, and she nearly fell, only to be caught in his arms with one hand.

Zhou Qi supported her thigh with his right hand and cupped her back with his left.

“Sit up yourself,” he said in a low voice.

Before Xu Nianzhu could recover, she was suddenly lifted high, her heart suspended in mid-air.

The position was too high; half of her body was suspended in the air. Instinctively, she leaned down to hug his neck, her nose filled with the scent of gardenias from his body.

The heat from the fabric of her dress surged, and Xu Nianzhu, unable to bear it, tiptoed and kicked her legs, only to be held even tighter by him.

“I told you, whatever role you want me to take on, I’m willing,” Zhou Qi forced himself to stay calm, wanting to give her a good experience.

He swiped the room key and shut the door with his foot.

With a “clang,” the sound struck Xu Nianzhu’s heart, making her shudder.

The card was inserted, the room’s lights turned on, and before Xu Nianzhu could fully take in the suite’s appearance, she was carried into the room and fell into the soft bedding, enveloped in a refreshing fragrance.

Zhou Qi walked to the bedside switch and turned off several glaring lights.

That felt better.

Xu Nianzhu groggily opened her eyes to see Zhou Qi standing beside her, his left knee bent and kneeling by the bed, unfolding the deep gray tie he held in his hand. He took her hands, efficiently tying her wrists with the tie, secure yet inescapable.

“You said you liked it this way,” he remembered.

Xu Nianzhu was instantly stunned, her skin so flushed it seemed it could bleed, even the air she exhaled could scorch her.

Her eyes, moist and trembling, stirred up different emotions, fresh, thrilling, and frantic, with even a strange seed seeming to sprout at the bottom of her heart.

Zhou Qi pulled the tie, slowly pushing her hands up until they were above her head, resting on the pillow.

He leaned close to her ear, whispering tightly, “Make full use of it.”

Footnote:

1. Panda Blood(熊猫血): A rare blood type, typically referring to Rh-negative blood type.