Chapter 4: I Can't Hold Out

Zhang Cheng swallowed, unable to speak. Su Qing stood so close he could see his own flustered reflection in her eyes. She said nothing, only watched him, her gaze filled with an emotion he couldn’t quite read.

Was she teasing him? Was she serious? Could she actually feel something for him?

His heart raced. He caught the scent of her hair and saw the lipstick still on her lips. If he lowered his head just a little, he could kiss her. Desire grew wildly, threatening to overwhelm his reason. For a moment he thought that even if his boss beat him to death, another night with her might be worth it.

Then he imagined the grief on his elderly parents’ faces. No. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms to stay clearheaded.

Su Qing seemed to see his struggle. Smiling faintly, she stepped back and pointed at the bathroom. “Go take a shower. There are fresh towels inside.”

Hot water ran over the white tiles, easing the tension in his body and washing away his sweat and fatigue. He felt better, but his thoughts remained a mess. He still couldn’t quite believe what had happened. He pinched his thigh several times, and the pain told him he wasn’t dreaming: he really had been intimate with Su Qing. And tonight they would be staying in the room together.

He shut off the hot water and splashed cold water on his face, trying to calm himself. When he emerged in a bathrobe, Su Qing was waiting outside with a change of clothes, as beautiful and fragrant as ever.

“Done?” Her gaze rested briefly on his chest. She smiled and slipped past him. “My turn.”

The bathroom door closed, and his heart lost its rhythm again. He sat on the bed listening to the shower, the water sometimes rushing, sometimes gentle. He imagined droplets running down her back, over her slender waist and long legs.

“Stop it!” He pinched his thigh again, but the sound kept working on his nerves until he felt hot all over.

Eventually, Su Qing came out in a short black silk nightdress, her wet hair falling down her back. Drops of water slipped from its ends onto her neck.

“Will you dry my hair for me?” she asked. She picked up the hair dryer from the dressing table, her voice soft and playful after her bath.

His heart jumped. “I… wouldn’t that be inappropriate?”

“Why? We’re a couple now. Isn’t that what a boyfriend does?” She put the dryer in his hand and sat with her back to him, her long dark hair spread over her nightdress.

His hand trembled around the cool plastic. Standing behind her, he breathed in the clean scent of her hair and body wash. He took a deep breath, switched on the dryer and lifted her hair, letting warm air carry away the moisture. His thoughts scattered with it.

At twenty-eight, he’d never had a girlfriend and had never considered marriage. Supporting himself was hard enough; why drag a woman into it? He didn’t want children to suffer as he had, either. But now he thought how happy he might be living with someone as beautiful as Su Qing, without children.

He laughed at himself. It was a lovely thought, but reality was cruel. On six thousand yuan a month, winning a girlfriend like her was nearly impossible.

“A little closer. You can’t reach the bottom,” Su Qing said with a smile, watching his gentle, earnest face in the mirror. She felt a little warmth herself. A boyfriend like Zhang Cheng might be nice. At least the nights would be happy. But he was only a poor driver, unable to give her the life she wanted. That was too great a flaw.

“All right.” He stepped closer and continued drying her hair gently.

In the mirror, she tilted her head with a faint smile while he stood behind her, lifting her dark hair with one hand and holding the dryer with the other. Their shadows overlapped in the light. The ordinary, intimate scene made him imagine they really were a couple getting ready for bed.

If only Su Qing would be my girlfriend for the long term. The thought took root. He imagined waking beside her, drying her hair after work, walking down the street holding her hand without fear or secrecy. The fantasy held him captive for a moment, making him forget his station, Zhou’s warning and the gulf between them.

At last her hair was dry and soft as silk. Reluctantly, he switched off the dryer.

“Thank you.” Su Qing turned, then reclined on the bed. Zhang Cheng stood motionless, looking at her hair spread across the pillow and her pale legs in the light.

“Come to bed. It’s late.” She patted the place beside her.