Chapter 73: The Truth
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
Back in high school, Wen Ruoxian had fantasized about coming out to her family—standing in front of her parents with her girlfriend and proudly announcing her sexual orientation.
As she got older, she gradually realized that this was not a good idea. Bringing her girlfriend home to show her orientation without knowing her family's attitude was reckless and irresponsible.
Maybe her parents would stubbornly think that her girlfriend was "influencing" her.
Sexual orientation was her own business, and coming out was also her own business.
She would bear any risk herself.
So, during the Mid-Autumn Festival two years ago, she went home and came out to her parents. The two elderly people found it hard to accept and had a big argument with her. After that, she didn't go back for two years, and her family kept trying to "convert" her with pictures and videos of handsome guys.
The earlier the storm hits, the more room it leaves for the future. Being single allows her to bear these burdens without guilt.
Now she is glad for her choice back then.
"Literally," Wen Ruoxian said calmly, "I have a girlfriend."
There was silence on the other end of the line for a long time. She waited patiently and only heard her mother sigh, "Why must you go this way? Is it to defy me and your Dad?"
It sounded hoarse, tired, like an old wooden clock.
“There’s no such thing as ‘should I go or not,’ and there’s certainly no ‘way.’ It’s not a choice; it’s following my own heart,” Wen Ruoxian said firmly.
“Have you ever thought that your so-called ‘heart’ can change with exposure and influence? People can’t stick to one idea for their whole lives. You’re speaking so definitively now, but what if you change in the future? By then, you might have missed the best years…”
“Even if things change later, that’s a matter for the future. I just want to focus on the present.”
Her mother paused and analyzed, “I know, you were too obedient as a child and never rebellious. Now that you’re grown up, you want to experience things. There’s a saying, ‘Lost youth will be made up for at some point in the future.’ That’s your current state. I know you too well.”
It was always like this—no hysterics, no harsh reprimands, but always with self-righteous reasoning.
She was tired.
Tired of reasoning, rules, and regulations. Tired of a life that follows the same routine.
“When you speak these arrogant words in such an arrogant tone, you no longer understand me,” Wen Ruoxian's voice grew cold.
“My attraction to women is innate; I’ve known it for a long time. It’s true now at thirty and will be at eighty. I can take responsibility for my own life. You don’t need to find meaningless reasons to convince yourself. Instead of trying to change me, you might as well enjoy your retirement and not tire yourself out so much.”
Outside the window, rain drizzled, and a Christmas tree sang. Her shadow stood straight under the light.
There was silence again on the phone, followed by a series of sighs.
Wen Ruoxian waited patiently for a few minutes. Realizing there wasn’t much more to say, she was about to hang up when her mother asked again, “How is your girlfriend? Let me see her photo, and tell me about her work and family.”
She was a bit surprised but remained guarded, “Mom, first tell me, is this for screening or for understanding?”
“Of course, it’s for understanding. I need to know some basic information about her. Whether it’s a boyfriend or a girlfriend, it’s not right to hide things from your parents.”
It sounded like a compromise.
But she didn’t need to worry about that. Just because her family didn’t compromise didn’t mean she had to break up with Qingluo. Life wasn’t a melodramatic soap opera.
Wen Ruoxian relaxed slightly and thought of Song Qingluo, her eyes full of tenderness. “Her name is Song Qingluo, The spring vines (萝; luó) are reflected in the two secluded spots, while the pines and cranes appear clear and melodious (清越; qīng yuè)*.
*Boating On The White Dragon Cave And Sending Letters To Those Who Study Taoism In Tiantai by Chang Jian. She's saying what characters were used in Song Qingluo's name.
This was a poem by the Tang Dynasty poet Chang Jian.
Although it was not the origin of Song Qingluo's name, she thought that the common word combinations introduced were too vulgar, and did not match Qingluo.
Her mother, who graduated from the Chinese department and taught in the Chinese department, must have known which two characters they were.
"She is five years younger than me. She is a very outstanding girl. She studied violin, graduated from a prestigious school, and won many awards... You can probably find some of this on the internet. She is talented, has personality, and is particularly charming. Most importantly, she loves me very, very much, and I love her very, very much too."
How could Qingluo's goodness ever be fully described?
"When did you meet?"
"Last autumn."
"What's her family situation?"
"They're in business."
"What kind of business?"
"...Pharmaceuticals." Wen Ruoxian listened and frowned, "Let's skip the household registration checking; in any case, she's excellent, in every aspect."
This translation is originally posted on https://love4baihe.blogspot.com please read it there. and check out other stories too.
Her mother did not ask further and turned the conversation back to her: "Are you coming home for this year’s Spring Festival? If not, your dad and I can go to Jiangcheng to see you. It’s been two years since we last met…” As she spoke, her voice grew softer.
Wen Ruoxian’s tone softened: "I am abroad, so I am not sure when I will return. Let’s see."
Compared to this matter, Qingluo’s mood was more important. She hurriedly said a few words to end the call, then looked up. The second floor was very quiet as if no one was there.
….
The bedroom was quiet.
Wen Ruoxian walked to the doorway and saw Song Qingluo sitting by the window, wrapped in a robe, holding her Q-version stuffed toy, lost in thought. Her slender figure appeared somewhat lonely.
Recalling her forced smile and the sadness and bitterness that she could not hide in her eyes, Wen Ruoxian's heart grew heavier.
"Qingluo..." Wen Ruoxian walked over, "I brought your violin up."
She carefully placed the violin case on the table.
This violin was Song Qingluo's lifeline. Usually, she would not even let anyone touch the case, let alone have someone else put the violin inside—what if they were careless and damaged it?
But Wen Ruoxian was an exception.
Song Qingluo merely glanced at the violin case before eagerly tossing aside the stuffed toy and jumping off the windowsill to hug Wen Ruoxian: "I used the new body wash I bought. Smell it—does it smell good?"
Her whole body was warm, exuding a fresh scent of white moss, and her cheeks were redder than before.
“It smells good." Wen Ruoxian lowered her face, taking a deep breath next to her ear.
Her scalp tingled slightly, and her heartbeat became erratic again. She wanted to snuggle against her, to cling together like glue.
"Do you like it?"
"I like it."
Song Qingluo giggled, but then her ear was suddenly kissed, and she heard Wen Ruoxian whisper, "I was just joking earlier. You played 'La Campanella' wonderfully."
"I know I am great. I was just a little rusty, that’s all." After saying that, she cupped Wen Ruoxian’s face. "My wife would not feel guilty over something so small, would she?"
"Not really."
"It’s about Ms. Cheng..." Wen Ruoxian looked at her.
It was better to clarify things.
Song Qingluo's smile stiffened. "What about it?"
"Qingluo, I can feel your unhappiness, and I can also sense that you are trying to cooperate with me, suppressing your emotions. You don’t have to do that. You are the one I love, and you can express any emotion to me. I really need to know your thoughts as well." Wen Ruoxian gently caressed the hand on her face, her eyes full of tenderness.
Song Qingluo pressed her lips together, looked down at her feet, then up at the ceiling, turning left and right, before suddenly blinking rapidly: "I... I just thought of the past..."
"What about it?"
"Working by CEO Cheng’s side, during that time, she was somewhat targeting me. I had to brew tea several times, and I felt really bad. But I was afraid that if I didn’t perform well, she would complain to you, and you wouldn’t forgive me. I kept thinking that since you two are good friends, you would believe whatever she said, and you would unconditionally side with her, especially after I learned about your past together... Anyway, whenever I think about those things, I feel really wronged. I admit it, I do mind, and I don’t know how long it will take for me to get over it."
Her voice gradually grew softer.
Wen Ruoxian patted her back, "Do you want to know the truth?"
"I do."
"Ms. Cheng was indeed intentional, but it wasn’t to torment you. It was to make me see, to make my heart ache, until I couldn’t bear seeing you ‘suffer’ and brought you back to my side."
Song Qingluo's eyes widened, "Huh?"
Wen Ruoxian smiled helplessly, "She probably noticed something very early on. Maybe she wanted to help a little, or perhaps she wanted to provoke me. I was just too slow and conflicted to realize it until later." After saying this, she kissed Song Qingluo's forehead.
"I’m sorry."
Song Qingluo murmured, "So CEO Cheng was actually trying to set us up..."
[Do you feel stifled working under me? I have strict demands without mercy. It's completely different from being by Ms. Wen's side, right?]
[Ms. Wen would coax you, cater to everything you want, know your temper, understand your preferences, tolerate and accommodate you.]
She suddenly realized why Cheng Suran had said those things.
Because the golden retriever in the sketchbook had already been thinking of the little fox back then.
"There's one more thing."
"Huh?"
Wen Ruoxian winked at her, "Ms. Cheng is just like us—her partner is also a woman."
Song Qingluo was stunned.
The gossip at the company only mentioned "CEO Cheng's husband," but no one had ever seen him. The white sports car that was often parked outside the building—its occupant never got out. Everyone said Cheng Suran's "husband" was rich and mysterious, perhaps from some wealthy and prestigious family.
If it were a man, even if he were low-key, it wouldn’t be to the point of never showing his face.
If they were truly low-key, he wouldn't be driving a sports car to pick up his wife!
Wanting to flaunt but being unable to do so.
Isn't that just the plight of a tragic lesbian couple?
All that talk about "influenced by a man," "believing a man's lies," "a husband and wife conspiring together"... it turned out to be a huge joke.
Song Qingluo suddenly understood.
“She sent me a message saying she was very happy for me and mentioned wanting to bring her partner so that the four of us could play mahjong together,” Wen Ruoxian said, holding both of Song Qingluo’s hands in her palms.
“Play mahjong?” Song Qingluo came to her senses. “Does that mean we’re going to meet?”
“Do you want to?”
“Of course I do. When will we meet? Ah, no, I need to prepare properly first; I can't be outdone. Wait a minute… the owner of the Green Shang Mansion, we have an annual owner’s gathering. Is it possible that I’ve already met her without knowing?”
Wen Ruoxian shrugged.
Song Qingluo couldn’t remember for the moment and was too lazy to think about it further. “Forget it, I’ll find out when we meet. Anyway, I must make my wife proud.”
She mumbled, clenching her fist as she spoke.
Wen Ruoxian was captivated by her adorable look, her heartbeat suddenly racing like a drum. She stared at Song Qingluo’s rosy lips, leaning forward slightly, feeling shy.
“What’s wrong?” Song Qingluo didn’t understand her strange behavior.
“I want to kiss you.”
“Then kiss me.”
Both of them were stunned.
What’s going on?
Do you need to ask before kissing?
Wen Ruoxian lowered her head slightly and pecked her lips.
Then she quickly continued, "Qingluo, I’m not saying this to make you be generous or to make you understand Ms. Cheng. You’re not wrong; if you mind, you mind. You don’t need to suppress your emotions. The one who should be tolerant is me."
“Understood."
Song Qingluo was not satisfied with the brief kiss, "My heart is racing so fast."
Wen Ruoxian remained silent for a moment and noticed Song Qingluo looking at her with intense, fiery eyes, her gaze like a hook, fervent and enchanting.
Her ears burned with heat. "Qingluo…"
"Mm?"
“I should go take a shower.”
“Go ahead.”
Song Qingluo raised an eyebrow and let go of her hand.
Wen Ruoxian hurried into the wardrobe and grabbed her pajamas.
Normally, a shower took at most half an hour, but today it took twice as long. She didn’t use the shower; instead, she soaked in the large bathtub, letting the warm water envelop her.
Deep breaths, holding her breath, sinking, then rising, exhaling.
Going in cycles.
She finally felt much better.
Earlier, she had looked into Song Qingluo’s eyes and had a hazy thought. She was being so unrestrained, discussing such serious matters, and yet—
The image of Song Qingluo slightly tipsy came to mind.
She stood by the sink, splashed her face with cold water, lingered for a while, then slowly walked out.
The bedroom was even darker now.
The main light was turned off, with only the corridor's spotlights illuminating the room.
The large circular bed was draped with a canopy, and the bedside lamp cast a dim, warm light, outlining a figure.
“Qingluo?” Wen Ruoxian approached.
The shadow behind the canopy spoke, “Ruoxian, can you do me a favor?”
“What?”
“Lift the curtain and come in.”
“Okay…”
As Wen Ruoxian moved closer and lifted the canopy, she froze in place.
Song Qingluo was reclining against the headboard with a sly smile on her face, tossing her silk nightgown towards Wen Ruoxian. She blinked, “I just bought this. Do you like it?”
It landed squarely on Wen Ruoxian’s face.
She took it off and examined it closely, realizing it wasn’t an ordinary house dress.
It was a camisole style with long, thin strings on both sides that needed to be tied up one by one to fit properly.
“It looks good.”
“The design is also very creative.”
Wen Ruoxian praised sincerely. It was indeed the style that Song Qingluo would like—fresh, unique, and interesting, just like her.
“Could you help me tie all the strings on this? I want a bow, a bow tied by you,” Song Qingluo wriggled like a serpent, moving closer to her.
She resembled the beautiful evil spirit who wanted to eat Tang Seng*.
*Tang Seng is the monk from Journey To The West, the beautiful evil spirit is Lady White Bone in Chapter 27
Without a word, Wen Ruoxian turned the dress around and skillfully threaded the ties through. In a matter of seconds, she tied a perfect bow.
Her technique was always impressive.
Song Qingluo kissed her cheek and whispered in her ear, “Do you know why I asked you to tie it?”
The final bow was completed.
“Yes,” Wen Ruoxian shook the nightgown, and as Song Qingluo was lost in thought, she grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down.
The fox was waiting here for her.
Needless to say, she knows everything.
