Chapter 3

It was nearly midnight when Li Yuan’an finally came back in from the balcony. She had actually heard her parents moving around. The lights in the living room, the lowered voices, the occasional hurried footsteps, she had noticed all of it. But she hadn’t hurried downstairs. Instead, she stood on the balcony for another ten minutes, letting the night wind blow over her until she’d had enough, sorting through her thoughts before finally pushing open the door and entering the house at an unhurried pace. When she passed Li Lehe’s room, she paused. The door wasn’t fully closed, leaving a narrow gap. The dim yellow light from the night-lamp spilled through it onto the floor, like a thin, meandering stream. Li Yuan’an glanced inside through the gap. Li Lehe was already fast asleep, half her face buried in the arm of a stuffed bear. The blanket had been kicked down to her waist, and her pajamas had ridden up slightly, exposing a small patch of soft, pale skin on her belly. Her mouth was slightly open, her breathing even. Every now and then, she smacked her lips twice, as though she were eating something delicious in her dreams. Li Yuan’an watched her for a few seconds before reaching out and gently widening the gap in the door. Just to let more air in, she told herself. Then she turned and headed downstairs. She had only made it halfway down the stairs when she saw the scene in the living room. Li Caiwen was sitting on the sofa, his arms crossed over his chest, his face livid. Zhou Wan sat beside him, her eyes red-rimmed, a wad of tissues clenched in her hand, already crumpled beyond recognition. On the coffee table lay a dark-blue diary. Li Yuan’an’s diary. Her footsteps did not falter. She neither sped up nor slowed down. Step by step, she descended the stairs steadily, walked into the living room, and stopped in front of the coffee table. Li Yuan’an lowered her eyes and glanced at the diary. The page lying open happened to contain the words: If only I could be the bride. Then she raised her head and looked at her parents. “Explain yourself.” Li Caiwen’s voice was very low, as deep and muffled as thunder rumbling before a storm. “What the hell is all this?” It wasn’t a question. It was an interrogation. Zhou Wan said nothing. She simply stared at her eldest daughter, her lips trembling. How she wished Li Yuan’an would say something like, I was just writing nonsense, or There’s something wrong with my head, or I’ll never do it again. Even if it were a lie, she would be willing to believe it. As long as her daughter said it was all fake. Li Yuan’an remained silent. She stood there in that white T-shirt and a pair of gray lounge pants, her hair still loose and slightly disheveled from the night wind. There was no panic on her seventeen-year-old face. No shame. Not even nervousness. That composure made Li Caiwen feel as though he were looking at a stranger. It was even a little frightening. “Li Yuan’an, I’m talking to you.” Li Caiwen raised his voice slightly. “Those things you wrote in your diary… what exactly is going on?” “It’s exactly what I wrote.” Li Yuan’an finally spoke. Her voice wasn’t loud, but every word was perfectly clear. “I mean exactly what it says.” Tears immediately welled up in Zhou Wan’s eyes. “Yuan’an, do you even know what you’re saying?” Her voice was soft and trembling. “Lele is your younger sister. How could you… how could you have those kinds of thoughts about her?” “What kind of thoughts?” Li Yuan’an tilted her head slightly, as if she were genuinely asking for clarification. Zhou Wan opened her mouth, but she couldn’t bring herself to say the word. Li Caiwen said it for her. “That kind of thought between a man and a woman! The kind that isn’t proper!” “Lele and I are both girls.” Li Yuan’an’s tone remained calm. “If you say ‘between a man and a woman,’ that isn’t entirely accurate.” “You!” Li Caiwen was momentarily choked by her indifferent attitude. “Don’t you dare play word games with me—” “Playing word games! You know exactly what I mean! You and Lele… You like her, but not in the way an older sister likes her younger sister, right?” “Yes.” One word. Clean and decisive. No hesitation, no preamble. It was as though all the air had been sucked out of the living room. Zhou Wan covered her mouth as tears silently streamed down her face. She stared at the child who had come from her own body and suddenly felt as though she no longer knew her. “Lele is your younger sister.” Zhou Wan’s voice was so hoarse it was almost inaudible. “She came into our family when she was seven. You watched her grow up. How could you… How could you…” “It’s precisely because I watched her grow up,” Li Yuan’an said, “that I fell in love with her.” Li Caiwen suddenly shot to his feet. The chair was knocked backward by his movement and crashed onto the floor with a loud bang. Zhou Wan jumped in fright and hurriedly grabbed his arm. “Old Li!” Li Caiwen shook her hand off and pointed at Li Yuan’an, his finger trembling. “Is there something wrong with your head? Huh? That’s your sister! Even if you’re not related by blood, she’s still your sister! You watched her grow up. You’re supposed to protect her, care for her, not… not harbor such filthy thoughts!” “I’m not harboring any filthy thoughts.” For the first time, there was a slight change in Li Yuan’an’s tone. But it still wasn’t guilt or fear. Instead, there was an almost stubborn earnestness in her voice. “I like her. What’s so filthy about that?” “You secretly kissed her!” Li Caiwen roared. “You took advantage of her while she was asleep and kissed her! And you’re telling me that isn’t filthy?” Li Yuan’an’s eyelashes trembled. It was the first crack in her composure that night. That moment—the moment she had secretly kissed Lele—had been written in her diary, and her parents had seen it. Li Yuan’an knew exactly what that meant. This was no longer merely a one-sided crush. She had already crossed a certain line. “Yes.” Li Yuan’an admitted it. “I kissed her… just once. The night before her last birthday, she fell asleep in my room. I couldn’t stop myself, so I kissed her.” “You…” “Her forehead,” Li Yuan’an added. “I kissed her forehead.” Li Caiwen’s hand rose. His palm opened, all five fingers stretched taut, and with a sharp whoosh, he swung it toward Li Yuan’an’s face. Zhou Wan cried out. The hand stopped in midair, only a few centimeters from Li Yuan’an’s face. Li Yuan’an didn’t dodge. She didn’t even blink. She simply stared straight at her father, at the hand suspended in the air, trembling ever so slightly. Li Caiwen clenched his teeth. His cheeks bulged, the veins at his temples throbbing, his chest heaving violently like an engine pushed far beyond its limits. He couldn’t bring himself to hit her. In all the years since Li Yuan’an was little, had he ever hit her? No. Not even once. His eldest daughter had always been so sensible. She got good grades, had a steady temperament, and had never given them cause for worry. He had never even been able to bring himself to speak harshly to her. But today… His hand finally fell. Li Caiwen turned around and slammed his fist into the back of the sofa. The blow was hard enough to produce a dull thud, and his knuckles immediately turned red. “Li Yuan’an,” he said, his voice hoarse beyond recognition. “Tell me. What are you going to do?” “Do about what?” “Those feelings you have for Lele! What are you going to do about them? Keep hiding them forever? Or…?” Li Caiwen paused, as though working up the courage to utter a terrifying possibility. “Or are you planning to wait until she grows up and then win her over?” The living room fell silent. Zhou Wan held her breath. Li Yuan’an looked at her father for several seconds before speaking. Her voice was quiet, but the certainty in it struck harder than any shout. “I’ll wait for her to grow up.” Five words, like five nails, driven one by one into the hearts of Li Caiwen and Zhou Wan. “And then?” Li Caiwen asked. His voice no longer sounded like an interrogation. It was more like he was confirming an answer he desperately didn’t want to face. “Then I’ll pursue her and be with her,” Li Yuan’an said. “If she’s willing.” “What if she isn’t?” Li Yuan’an’s silence spoke louder than any answer could have. It wasn’t the silence of retreat. It was the certainty of someone who had never even considered that possibility. Zhou Wan finally couldn’t take it anymore. She stood up and walked over to Li Yuan’an, gripping her daughter’s shoulders with both hands as she looked at her with reddened eyes. “Yuan’an, Mom is begging you. Please, wake up, okay?” Her voice trembled. “You’re still young. You don’t know what you’re doing. You’re not even eighteen yet, and Lele is only thirteen. You still have your whole lives ahead of you. What you think is love right now might not feel the same way a few years from now. Give yourself a chance, and give us a chance, too. Let’s just pretend this never happened. Burn the diary, and from now on—” “Mom.” Li Yuan’an interrupted her. Zhou Wan’s words caught in her throat. Li Yuan’an looked at her mother’s tear-reddened eyes, the fine lines at the corners of them, and the strands of white hair barely visible at her temples. At last, a trace of softness appeared in her gaze. But beneath that softness was something harder, something that could not be shaken. “When I was eleven, Lele was seven,” she said softly. “The day she first came to our family, she was wearing a pink dress, with her hair tied into two little braids. She wrapped her arms around my leg and refused to let go, calling me ‘Sister.’ From that day on, I felt that something was different.” Zhou Wan’s tears fell even harder. “It’s been six years, Mom,” Li Yuan’an said. “This isn’t a momentary impulse. It isn’t some confusion caused by puberty. Six years. From eleven to seventeen, I’ve never changed.” “You were only eleven back then. What could you possibly have understood…” “I understood everything.” Li Yuan’an gently removed her mother’s hands from her shoulders. Her movements were gentle, but her stance was firm. “I know what it means to like someone. I know what it means to want to spend the rest of my life with someone. That’s exactly how I feel about Lele.” Li Caiwen abruptly turned around. “You’re a seventeen-year-old girl. What do you know about a lifetime? Do you even know how long a lifetime is?” “No,” Li Yuan’an said. “But I know that no matter how long it is, I only want to spend it with her.” Li Caiwen was rendered speechless by those words: No matter how long it is, I only want to spend it with her. He looked into his daughter’s eyes. There was none of the reckless, headstrong impulsiveness so typical of a rebellious teenager. Instead, there was a weighty certainty, one that had clearly been carefully considered. And that frightened him even more. If Li Yuan’an had been crying and saying, I was wrong or I’ll never do it again, he would have known how to handle it. He could have lectured her, reprimanded her, warned her, and then put the whole matter behind them. But she hadn’t. She stood there with her back perfectly straight, like a young tree that had already taken root. Whether the wind came or the rain fell, she had no intention of bending. “Yuan’an.” Zhou Wan wiped away her tears, trying a different approach. “Think about Lele. She’s so young, so innocent. She doesn’t understand anything. If you… if you tell her about all this, what do you think she’ll feel? She’ll be frightened. Can you really bear to make her afraid?” A crack finally appeared in Li Yuan’an’s expression. Zhou Wan had struck the one vulnerable spot in her daughter’s heart. Li Lehe. That girl who smiled like a little sun. “I won’t make her afraid.” Li Yuan’an’s voice was quieter than before. “I won’t force her. I’ll wait until she grows up, until she understands these things, and then I’ll slowly tell her.” “But what if she never understands?” Zhou Wan pressed. “What if, when she grows up, she likes boys?” “Then…” Li Yuan’an paused. It was only for that brief moment that Zhou Wan saw her daughter’s eyes turn red. But it lasted only an instant. “Then I’ll keep my distance from her,” Li Yuan’an said, her voice slightly hoarse. “If Lele likes someone else, I… I won’t stop her.” As she said I won’t stop her, her fingers unconsciously clenched around the seam of her pants. Her knuckles turned white, as though she were desperately holding on to something. Perhaps it was reason. Or perhaps it was that last trace of possessiveness that she knew she shouldn’t have. Zhou Wan saw the movement. Her heart ached even more. Because at that moment, what she saw was no longer a “perverted older sister with improper thoughts about her younger sister.” She saw a seventeen-year-old girl who genuinely loved someone and had no idea what she was supposed to do with those feelings. But she was her daughter. And Lele was her daughter, too. They were both flesh of her flesh. “That’s enough.” Li Caiwen’s voice came from beside them, low and weary. “Let’s leave it at that for now. Yuan’an, go back to your room. We’ll talk about what happened tonight… tomorrow.” Li Yuan’an glanced at her father. Li Caiwen didn’t look at her. He stood by the window with his back to the living room, his shoulders slightly slumped, like an old man who had been drained of every last bit of strength. “Dad,” Li Yuan’an called softly. Li Caiwen didn’t turn around. Li Yuan’an looked at her father’s back. Her lips moved slightly, but in the end, she said nothing. She bent down, picked up the diary from the coffee table, held it against her chest, and turned toward the stairs. After taking two steps, she stopped. “Mom, Dad.” With her back to them, her voice was quiet. “I’m sorry for making you sad. But my feelings for Lele are real.” With that, Li Yuan’an walked straight upstairs. Her footsteps gradually faded, one step after another, until they finally disappeared at the end of the hallway. Only Li Caiwen and Zhou Wan remained in the living room. The wall clock ticked steadily. It was already one in the morning. Zhou Wan collapsed back onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands, crying silently for a long time. Li Caiwen walked back and sat down beside her. He slipped an arm around her shoulders. His large hand was trembling slightly, but his embrace remained steady. “Old Li…” Zhou Wan’s muffled voice came through the gaps between her fingers. “What do we do?” Li Caiwen said nothing. He didn’t know. He wanted to know what they were supposed to do, too. Hit her? He couldn’t bear to. Scold her? It wouldn’t help. Reason with her? She was even more convinced of her own position than he was. “Yuan’an…” he said hoarsely. “That girl has always been so strong-willed.” “She has.” Zhou Wan lifted her head, her eyes swollen like peaches. “Once she sets her mind on something, she never changes it.” The two of them sat facing each other in silence. A wind had risen outside, rustling the osmanthus tree in the courtyard. The sweet, intoxicating fragrance of osmanthus that had filled the air during the day now drifted into the house, carrying an indescribable sense of desolation. Upstairs, Li Yuan’an stopped again when she passed Li Lehe’s room. The gap in the door was exactly as she had left it earlier. Nothing had changed. She pushed it open a little farther and stepped inside. The light from the night-lamp fell softly across Li Lehe’s face, as gentle as a thin veil. She was sleeping deeply, completely unaware of everything. Unaware of what had happened that night. Unaware that her diary had been discovered. Unaware of how heartbroken her parents were. Unaware that her sister was standing beside her bed, gazing down at her with an almost reverent look in her eyes. Li Yuan’an crouched down so that she was level with her sister’s face. She reached out, her fingertips hovering just a centimeter above Li Lehe’s cheek without touching it. They remained suspended there as she traced the shape of her eyebrows, the curve of her nose, and the outline of her lips with her gaze. “Lele,” she whispered, her voice so soft it was barely more than breath, as though afraid of disturbing something. “Grow up quickly.” Then she stood and turned to leave. The door closed again, shutting the night-lamp’s light inside. In the hallway, Li Yuan’an walked back toward her room with the diary held against her chest. Her footsteps were so light, like those of a cat. But in that moment when no one could see her, the last of her composure finally crumbled. Her eyes were terribly red, as was the tip of her nose. Her lips bore a faint bite mark where she had bitten them. “I can’t cry,” she whispered to herself. “I can’t.” She took a deep breath and forced the emotions threatening to spill over back down. Then she opened her bedroom door, stepped inside, and closed it behind her. The sound of the door shutting was very soft. But Zhou Wan heard it downstairs. She closed her eyes and leaned against her husband’s shoulder, letting out a long, weary sigh. The night was still long. And longer still was the road that lay ahead.