Chapter 14 – many
“I hated studying when I was in school, and I hate working now that I have a job…” Xiang You hunched forward slightly, both hands loosely cupping the coffee cup. “Is life always like this? Do we always have to do things we don’t like?”
“alwayslikethis……”
When Meng Ou spoke the English, his pronunciation was a little different from his Chinese.
It could not really be called a standard British or American accent, nor was it quite like the common Chinese accent. It was, by and large, something that belonged uniquely to him.
There was a slight nasal quality to it, and his pitch was a degree lower, somehow giving the words the flavor of French.
Xiang You froze for a moment before realizing that he was imitating the classic line from Léon: The Professional.
Come to think of it, ever since she started working, let alone books, she hardly watched movies anymore.
Only occasionally, when she had some free time, would she go sit in a movie theater, usually choosing films that required no thinking.
More than watching movies, she enjoyed the feeling of sitting in a movie theater.
The air-conditioning was at just the right temperature, the theater spacious and dark, even the “rustling” sound of the projector so enchanting.
Someone who could fall asleep even while watching gangster movies, let alone these boring family-friendly films.
Spending a few dozen yuan to buy an hour or two of comfortable sleep could not really be called a loss, could it?
She had watched Léon: The Professional back in middle school, and watched it again with Meng Ou in university.
But the person she was now certainly had no mind to watch a movie like this.
Come to think of it, there really had been no need for her to go to that musical she had just politely turned down.
She absolutely did not want to fall asleep during a musical she had loved for so many years.
How embarrassing, how annoying, how unacceptable.
She would rather never go at all, forever preserving that part of her heart that she believed was still young.
That time, she had suddenly gotten the idea to watch Léon: The Professional because Meng Ou said she was dressed like Mathilda.
Not the classic outfit with the flowerpot, but because she happened to have gotten a short haircut and was wearing a striped T-shirt.
At the time, a kind of blunt-cut short hairstyle had become popular, brought over from Korea, and short-haired girls had sprung up all over the school like bamboo shoots after the rain.
Xiang You’s roommate urged her every day to get her hair cut, saying her face would definitely suit it.
Xiang You ran her fingers through the long hair she had kept for twenty years and thought that while she was young, she really ought to try more new styles.
As it turned out, she would have been better off not trying at all!
The hair salon she had carefully sought out was only good at advertising. Its actual skill level was an absolute disaster.
They had promised a cut level with her chin, but one swipe of the scissors left it level with her lips. Her bangs did not even cover her eyebrows. She had gone from Korea all the way to Japan.
She had a soft temperament, and when she was dissatisfied, she was too embarrassed to argue with anyone. Miserably, she paid the equivalent of half a month’s living expenses.
Sure enough, as soon as she returned to the dorm, her roommates laughed at her for a while.
None of them meant any harm, but Xiang You’s unhappiness was very real, and she barely slept that night.
Luckily, the next day was the weekend. When she and Meng Ou parted the previous week, they had already arranged to meet this week.
She had originally wanted to give him a surprise. Now, there was probably only shock left in store for him.
Early that morning, Xiang You was already agonizing over whether to come up with an excuse and simply not go.
But then she thought about how her hair was not going to grow long again in just a week or two. Was she supposed to avoid seeing him forever?
After thinking it over and over, she hardened her heart.
Ugly was ugly. She could be ugly, but if Meng Ou laughed at her, he was dead!
As she walked, she gave herself countless pep talks.
If Meng Ou dared laugh at her even once, if he so much as gave her one wrong look, then they would break up! Break up! Absolutely break up!
Although, if only she had possessed this much ferocity when she was facing the hairstylist yesterday.
All along the way, Xiang You felt that every passerby’s gaze and smile was directed at her.
She had never been this “self-absorbed” before, to the point that she spent the entire journey with her head lowered and her steps hurried, biting her lip just to keep the tears from falling.
And of all days, Meng Ou happened to be dressed quite nicely that day.
His hair had been tousled somewhat by the wind, revealing a large expanse of smooth forehead. Under his windbreaker, he wore cargo pants with, roughly speaking, eight hundred and eighty-eight pockets. A pair of leather straps was ostentatiously fastened around his thighs, and the cuffs of his pants were bunched over his Martin boots.
Of course, he was dressed in his perennial all-black.
Xiang You spotted him from a hundred meters away. She took a deep breath, silently repeated “break up” three times in her heart, and finally summoned the courage to walk toward him.
As she walked, she wondered how Meng Ou was going to laugh at her later.
Would he say she looked like Watermelon Taro, or “an unknown internet celebrity trying to recreate a kindergarten hairstyle for one of those childhood comparison photos”? Whatever!
Fifty meters, ten meters, five meters…
They had reached speaking distance.
She saw Meng Ou raise a hand, smiling particularly brightly. “Yo, how did Mathilda end up coming all the way to China?”
“Hm?” Xiang You froze for a moment.
Mathilda was so pretty… Surely that could not count as mocking her, right?
The compliment had come a little too suddenly, and Xiang You had not quite processed it yet.
She lowered her eyes, only to see the two legs, each carrying four hundred and forty-four pockets, crossing toward her before stopping slightly spread apart in front of her.
Meng Ou bent down and hugged her very tightly.
Xiang You had not cried at all along the way.
Yet just because someone had complimented her, she suddenly began sobbing uncontrollably in his arms.
This time, the passersby really were looking at her.
Meng Ou did not ask why even once. He simply stroked her back very gently.
While crying, Xiang You curiously undid the pair of leather straps around his pant legs.
His thighs instantly looked a whole circle thicker, the straps hanging loosely from the pants.
Meng Ou lowered his head somewhat helplessly and shook his leg. The leather straps jingled.
“There’s one more. Wait until we’re somewhere with no one around to undo it.” He buried his head against her shoulder and lowered his voice.
Except the last one was not a leather strap, but an elastic band.
It was much easier to undo than the leather straps. One tug and it came loose.
Something receded like a tide, and something else surged in like a tide.
She wrapped her arms around his solid, powerful back, her fingernails digging out streaks of red.
But from where she was, she could not see those red marks.
It was not until he carried her into the bathroom that her gaze lingered on the mirror for a little longer.
Meng Ou turned his head and realized what she was looking at.
He sat easily on the washstand. In the wide mirror, his back was reflected in full view.
Then he bent down and, with one forceful movement, lifted her up.
She let out a startled cry, instinctively wrapping both arms around his neck.
Her knees pressed against the cold marble countertop, and it hurt a little. But her heart was pounding so wildly that she had already forgotten about these insignificant sensations.
She clung tightly to him, afraid that she might fall, or perhaps afraid that if she pulled away, he would see her face.
It was the first time she had faced herself at a moment like this, and only then did she realize how undignified her expression was right now.
A pair of arms securely encircled her waist, but that was all they did. There was no further guiding force.
Meng Ou spoke against her chest, his voice hoarse enough to make her feel slightly numb. “Take your time looking. If kneeling gets too tiring, you can sit down.”
Sit down. Sit where?
The choice was entirely left to her, yet she suddenly became completely at a loss.
A few strands of hair had been dampened with sweat against her cheeks. She shook her head, trying to fling them away.
She summoned her courage and looked at herself in the mirror. That ruined short haircut now carried the name “Mathilda,” and somehow, it seemed to look quite a bit better.
She steeled herself, tightened her arms around his neck, and lowered herself down.
They let out a long sigh in unison.
Most of the time, they were actually quite traditional in this regard. The places and positions they chose were the most conventional ones.
Even though Meng Ou looked like the kind of person who was anything but proper.
But Xiang You was someone who liked following rules and was afraid of breaking conventions.
So Meng Ou had always gone along with her. Something that was supposed to make both people happy should never have one side forcing the other.
That time was the first, and also the only time.
Even though in the eyes of some people, it might not have seemed like anything unusual at all.
Afterward, Xiang You was utterly flustered. Part of her felt happy, while another part felt that this kind of happiness was too much. She did not want this.
So she buried this thought under eighteen layers of secrecy and told Meng Ou about it.
Meng Ou understood instantly. He said, “Okay. Whatever you like, that’s what we’ll do.”
“Then what do you like?” Xiang You asked courageously.
By then, Meng Ou had already put on those pants of his with eight hundred and eighty-eight pockets. This time, Xiang You helped fasten the leather straps back up, slightly cinching his firm thigh muscles.
“Me?” Meng Ou sat unusually obediently, not daring to move a bit so that Xiang You could fasten the straps.
“Mhm…” Xiang You kept her head lowered, answering as she fastened them.
“I like seeing you happy,” Meng Ou said.
Xiang You successfully fastened the second one. She pinched the strap, her two fingers sliding all the way to the end, unwilling to let go.
She simply stared at the strap, or perhaps she was trying to find somewhere for her gaze to rest.
Meng Ou waited for quite a while without getting an answer, then gently said, “Hm?” to remind her.
Xiang You finally moved. She tugged on the strap toward herself.
She was pulling at his leg, but her upper body leaned down along with it, and Meng Ou very knowingly wrapped his arms around her.
Unlike Meng Ou’s directness, there were many things she could not bring herself to say.
She only knew how to express them through her actions.
Like hugging him now. What she meant was that she loved Meng Ou so, so much, more than she could possibly say.
•
More than half a year later, when Xiang You’s hair had grown to her shoulders, Meng Ou finally dared to tell her the truth.
Actually, that day, when he first saw her, he had really wanted to tease her with a remark.
But when he saw that her eyes were already red, he ultimately could not bring himself to do it.
Whenever he teased her, it was never to make her cry.
If he had known it would really make her cry, he absolutely would not have said it.
After so much time had passed, Xiang You’s mood was already quite calm.
She gathered her long hair and asked, “Then what were you originally going to say that day?”
“A marketing ambassador who, in order to promote her own company’s kitchenware, very professionally wore a black pot with a square hole cut out of the top.” Meng Ou’s mouth was as vicious as ever.
If he had said it at the time, Xiang You would definitely have broken up with him without hesitation.
She might even have poked a hole in each of those eight hundred and eighty-eight pockets before breaking up with him!
But after so much time had passed…
How was it that hearing it still made her so angry!
“Go to hell!” Xiang You kicked at him indignantly.
Meng Ou dodged with a mischievous grin, putting on an exaggerated show of avoiding her foot, but still took the kick squarely.
He had told a lie.
The truth was, that day, he had remembered the childhood photo Xiang You had once shown him.
In the photo, the little girl was wearing a gauzy dress and had more or less the same hairstyle, smiling at the camera with a face full of innocence.
She was not some “marketing ambassador.” It was, “If I had seen you in kindergarten back then, I definitely would have fallen for you so hard I’d have wanted to start dating young.”
It was, “How many times have I thought, if only I had met you back then.”
It was, “Luckily, the dream came true in the end, and I was lucky enough to have it.”
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