On a winter afternoon, I found myself in a tea house with a portly man, sipping tea.
Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, and the river and pond were encased in thick layers of ice, the cold biting sharply. This chill stirred something within me, as if I had drunk too much wine, and suddenly a strange vitality surged in me—an impulse to do something, anything.
Truth be told, I don't particularly enjoy tea, and even less so when surrounded by an abundance of flesh. I prefer coffee, and if I were to share a cup with a man, I'd want him to be fresh and lean. I always feel that a man with a crisp, refreshing appearance not only has clear, penetrating thoughts but also exhibits a certain grace in the bedchamber. "Grace" is a word I greatly admire. I'm not sure if my fascination with Yun Ke is closely tied to his clean, polished demeanor, his sharp dress, and the swift, efficient movements I imagine him to possess, but I am certain that even if this connection isn't the primary reason, it is a vital secondary factor. Who says women aren't driven by lust? When a woman is captivated, her desire can surpass that of a man by several fold.
Yet, on that wintry afternoon, I found myself sitting with the man, whose corpulence reminded me of a pig, in a tea house lacking in elegance, where the air conditioning barely offered any relief. I endured two hours of bitter tea, all while shivering in the cold.
In doing so, I told myself I was noble, great, and almost sacred, despite knowing that the reasons I was enduring such discomfort might appear naive, childish, even laughable to others.
The man wasn't entirely foolish. Noticing that I seemed distracted by the eighth joke he had told, he finally observed that my mind was elsewhere. "Are you troubled? Why do you keep staring at that trading company across the street? Is there something odd about it?" His words hinted at a subtle jealousy—did he think that my attention should have been on him rather than that company?
I wanted to smile at him, as a token of gratitude for his company during those long, cold hours. But as soon as I smiled, my hypocrisy was laid bare.
So, I could only grimace, unsure of what I was trying to convey.
"Yanyu, are you unwell?" he asked with concern.
"I'm fine, really," I replied, forcing a smile. "No discomfort at all. The tea is good, and your jokes are making me happy."
"Really?" he squinted at me, his gaze sharp and piercing, making me uneasy. I averted my eyes, but his stare followed, relentless and focused. I became increasingly uncomfortable under his scrutiny.
"Yanyu, you're troubled, aren't you? You can tell me, I want to help. Please, trust me. I just want to bring you joy."
I knew his sincerity was as genuine as any family member's love for me, but could I really open up to him? Could I confess that my heart belonged to another man? These words swirled in my mind, but I dared not utter them. To conceal my discomfort, I lowered my gaze and focused on my tea.
The man looked at me, his face clouded with sorrow, as though he had already found the answer in my expression. He sighed deeply, then spoke, "Yanyu, what is it about me that you don't like? Please, tell me. I'll change, I'll improve until you're happy with me. I'm serious."
He often added "seriously" to his sentences, as though without it, his words—and perhaps even his person—might seem less than authentic.
"Could you stop adding 'seriously' to everything? It's a bit off-putting," I said bluntly.
"Okay, I'll stop, I promise. You trust me, seriously," he replied.
I rolled my eyes in frustration, wishing he'd stop with the word "seriously" entirely.
I felt an odd rush of shame as his presence shifted in my mind, and suddenly, Yun Ke's face appeared in my thoughts, his smile bright and reassuring. Without thinking, I reached out, wanting to touch the smoothness of his skin.
But just then, the portly man's voice, lacking in resonance, shattered my fantasy. "Yanyu, I like you. I'll treat you like a queen, a princess... seriously." His words broke the spell, and I recoiled, embarrassed, pulling my hand away from his meaty grasp.
"Please, stop saying 'seriously,'" I said, my voice sharp with irritation. "It's driving me mad!"
He looked stunned for a moment, his cheeks jiggling, but then nodded in compliance. "Alright, I won't say it again."
"I have to go," I said, no longer able to bear the pretense.
Before he could respond, I rushed out of the tea house. The wind slapped against my ears, cold and biting, as I hurried across the street.
By the time he had settled the bill and rushed out after me, I spotted the man I had been waiting for, just stepping into the parking lot. To make sure he would notice me, I had dressed in a striking red down jacket. Against the white snow, I must have looked like a vivid, blooming tea flower.
As expected, the man saw me from afar, not just noticing me, but my presence seemed to seize his attention. He hesitated as he opened his car door, then looked back at me. Afraid he hadn't seen me clearly, I turned back to shout at the panting, flustered man behind me, "Hurry up, it's freezing! I'm about to faint!"
He scrambled, pulling the car keys from his pocket, his movements disoriented.
I plastered on a fake smile, exaggerated with mock joy, and wrapped my arm around his. He stared, shocked, at my gesture, his thoughts suddenly interrupted.
"Get in the car," I urged. "I'm freezing!"
He quickly shrugged off his coat and draped it over me, and I, as if delighted, pulled it tighter around me, enjoying the warmth of his body on the fabric.
He beamed proudly, like a fool, his nose flaring with glee, like two dirty trash bins that made my stomach churn.
I couldn't help but mutter under my breath, "Give him a little sunshine and he starts shining. Poor, foolish man."
Then I thought of Yun Ke, who didn't need sunshine to brighten up his face, and realized how much more pitiable my situation was.
In the car, he glanced at the arm I had just wrapped around him, asking excitedly, "Where do you want to go? We could sing, dance, or have dinner. What would you like, Yanyu?"
"I don't want any of it," I replied coldly. "I just want to go home."
His expression immediately faltered, as though he had been struck by tooth pain, his discomfort evident, but he said nothing.
I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes. As soon as my lids shut, Yun Ke's face appeared again, his smile imprinted in my mind, stirring both excitement and unease within me.
The man started the car, still not giving up. "There's plenty of time. We can find something fun to do. We both have the day free. That tea house was so suffocating, I don't understand how you—"
I interrupted him with icy finality, "I just want to go home. Do you understand?"
He fell silent.
I turned my face to the window, not wanting to see his bloated features. He drove on, sighing softly as if I hadn't noticed. I knew I shouldn't treat him this way, but what other choice did I have? Should I pretend to smile at him like other women do? No, I couldn't let him think he still had a chance. I had to make him understand that even if he spent the rest of his life focused on me, it would all be in vain. But then again, if I didn't love him, and I would never give him a chance, why didn't I just distance myself completely? Why did I keep thinking of this foolish man at all? No, I was using him—exploiting his foolishness.
I glanced at his fat face, so innocent, and felt a pang of guilt, but quickly silenced it. I hadn't forced him. He was more than willing. He was happy serving me, wasn't he? So there was no need for remorse. Men's pride is a thin sheet of paper, but unless you're into self-destruction, you should never tear it unless absolutely necessary. The consequences of tearing it would either be psychological violence or physical. If the man knew I had endured two hours in the cold just to wait for another man, I wondered if he would throw me out of the car like a discarded winter melon.
I am a smart woman, and my mindset is healthy. Even when passion rises for the man I love, I can't help but behave foolishly. Fortunately, I don't often fall for men. Fortunately, the fat man is willingly serving me. Fortunately, right now, all my attention is focused on the car behind us.