Chapter 1: Bad Child

Bo Muqing opened her email the moment she got off the plane and started replying to messages.

That instructor was notoriously hard to book, her voice clear and bright, her figure exceptional.

An invitation email sent three months ago had gone unanswered, yet this morning a reply arrived out of the blue:
[Let’s have a meal.]

She replied:
[I’m not in Taipei. I’m in Wuhan.]

The other side responded:
[That’s exactly why I’m asking you out.]

Bo Muqing:
[I’ll be there right away.]

The reply came back:
[I hope it’s just the two of us. No interruptions.]

When Bo Muqing pushed open the restaurant’s glass door, the instructor had arrived earlier and was already waiting by the window.

She wore a deep-V black printed top with black trousers, a slim waist outlined cleanly, and around her slender neck hung a layered jade peace pendant.

Today’s outfit was relatively low-key, yet it still couldn’t conceal her naturally captivating presence.

Last year, she had appeared in a dark green backless gown, twisting her waist as her opening move, an absolute stage siren.

Bo Muqing had been hooked for a long time and had written a full proposal just to design a stage tailored for her.

“Teacher Meng.”

Meng Zhenyue lifted her eyes and smiled faintly.

“Hello.”

“You must have been waiting a while. I just arrived in this city, by rights, I should’ve gotten here before you.”

“I just arrived too.”

“What a coincidence.”

Meng Zhenyue handed her the menu.

She had already thoughtfully ordered a thirst-quenching fruit juice for Bo Muqing.

Wuhan’s midsummer was like a furnace, hot enough to scorch skin, everyone living as if trapped inside an alchemy cauldron.

The server brought over a drink called “Afterglow of Sunset.”

Orange juice with sparkling water, a plump red cherry floating in the middle, echoing the golden dusk outside the window.

Bo Muqing’s phone rang in her bag.

She apologized softly and was about to hang up.

“Go ahead and take it. It’s fine.”

The call was from President Du in Beishi, an old acquaintance.

He had previously tried several times to reach Bo Muqing through intermediaries, hoping to get his trainee son a chance to be seen.

On the phone, President Du enthusiastically promoted his son.

Meng Zhenyue smiled gently and said casually, “His son bullied a child in my family back then.”

Her tone was light, but the smile on her face deepened.

“Later on, I also had people step in. His son spent three months in the hospital.”

Bo Muqing paused, her voice turning cold.

“Then there’s no need to sign anything. Our events don’t collaborate with bullies.”

The other end of the line erupted into a flood of abuse, President Du’s voice nearly tearing itself apart.

“Please mind your language. And what exactly are you, then?”

Bo Muqing cut the call and looked back at Meng Zhenyue.

“Sorry about that.”

Meng Zhenyue simply smiled.

Bo Muqing was organizing music events in Wuhan.

She took a proposal out of her bag and handed it over.

“Teacher Meng, would you like to take a look?”

Meng Zhenyue replied calmly, “I sent his son to the hospital too. If things escalate later, you might end up in a public mess. Still interested in working together?”

Bo Muqing curled her lips into a smile.

“For a beautiful mom? Absolutely.”

Meng Zhenyue flipped through the documents.

Later, Bo Muqing made further revisions, more appealing than the version sent by email.

They chatted casually for a bit.

Bo Muqing also explained her prior connection with President Du, she’d thought his son’s vocal conditions were acceptable and had overlooked his character.

She assured her there would be no future collaboration.

“My kid, though,” Meng Zhenyue said with a soft snort.

“Humming a few lines is fine. Singing? That’s another story.”

Her eyes carried a smile, light glowing at the mention of her child, clear pride beneath it.

“But her grades are excellent.”

They got along well.

The contract wasn’t signed immediately; Meng Zhenyue needed time to consider it.

She paid for the meal that day, and Bo Muqing smoothly suggested meeting again.

With rain threatening that evening, Meng Zhenyue thoughtfully saw her back to her apartment.

****

Night fell.

The old building was dimly lit, and faint echoes of a mother scolding her child drifted through the stairwell.

Meng Zhenyue entered the password and pushed open the door.

The girl standing in the entryway reached out to take her bag.

Her fingertips brushed lightly against the back of Meng Zhenyue’s hand, cool to the touch.

Meng Zhenyue paused briefly, then turned aside to remove her nude-colored heels, her voice carrying a tired languor.

“When did you get here?”

“With you.”

“It’s so late. Why aren’t you asleep? Not tired?”

“Mhm.”

The girl caught the faint scent of perfume lingering in Meng Zhenyue’s hair, cedar and amber, warm yet distant.

She stepped forward slightly.

Her earrings glimmered faintly under the dim light, carrying an unspoken sense of grievance.

“You came back really late today.”

Meng Zhenyue finally turned around, her red lips slightly upturned, her fingertips touching Yun Zhixue’s chest, preventing her from getting any closer.

“So? Do you want to interrogate me… or…” She suddenly lowered her head, her breath brushing against Yun Zhixue’s earlobe, “…want to punish me?”

Yun Zhixue clung to her like a dog, kissing her neck, and complained softly, “You haven’t kept your promise to me last night.”

Meng Zhenyue chuckled, turning around and stuffing her coat into Yun Zhixue’s hands.

“What’s the rush? We’ll talk about it tomorrow.”

She left gracefully, her trousers brushing against Yun Zhixue’s calves, a fine tickle spreading through her body, “I’m so sleepy.”

In truth, Yun Zhixue was upset.

Meng Zhenyue hadn’t come home on time.

She was always like this, drawing close, then pulling away, stirring irritation without ever fully committing.

Yun Zhixue was angry, yet she didn’t dare voice it.

Just a month ago, Meng Zhenyue had still been her guardian.

Good children were used to listening to their mother.

Yun Zhixue lowered her gaze.

Even with her back turned, Meng Zhenyue sensed it.

She sat crookedly on the living-room sofa and glanced over.

“Swallow it back.”

Yun Zhixue walked over and crouched beside her, looking up with lowered eyes.

Meng Zhenyue crossed her long legs, her expression cool. Yun Zhixue, not hearing any forgiveness, leaned closer, pressing against her chest.

“I’m sorry,” Yun Zhixue said quietly.

Her hot breath fell on her collarbone. Meng Zhenyue possessed a full, jade-like body, her breasts as smooth as snow. The brightly colored floral collar suddenly opened on both sides, revealing her white breasts, which burst open unexpectedly.

Yun Zhixue’s cheeks trembled. She pressed against her chest twice, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

Her hot breath brushed against her collarbone, stirring a slight shiver on her fair skin, making her full breasts appear like plum blossoms covered in fresh snow.

Yun Zhixue hugged her arms, revealing the delicate pink flesh beneath her snow-white skin. “Can I have a bite?”

She buried her face deeper, but Meng Zhenyue grabbed her by the back of the neck and lifted her up, warning her dangerously, “Don’t force me to slap you.”

“How about my neck? What about my mouth? My ears?”

“Get lost.”

Yun Zhixue’s tone was full of grievance, “But, clearly, you used to give me bites.”

Meng Zhenyue ignored her, her eyes light and flirtatious, her gaze alluring.

The night deepened, the sofa became heavy, cramped and hot.

Unaccustomed to the weather, she slept restlessly. Yun Zhixue kissed her earlobe, small and cute. Meng Zhenyue didn’t often wear decorations on her ears, and she didn’t even have pierced ears.

Yun Zhixue gently bit and rubbed it. Meng Zhenyue, annoyed in her sleep, lazily patted her waist twice. Yun Zhixue wrapped her arms around her, holding her tightly.

The “No Trouble” plaque pressed against Yun Zhixue’s chest, and Yun Zhixue’s hand slipped inside her body, placing the plaque her mother had given her to the side, her fingers slowly covering it…

She sucked on her ear until it was wet, then pressed closer, letting his breath fill her ear.

They embraced and trembled as always.

Yun Zhixue thought, Meng Zhenyue has finally reserved a place for her here, belonging to her, forever belonging to her…

The rain had fallen all night, making her restless and irritable, turning the day’s anger into scalding water, soaking her into a sweat that made her body sticky and damp until dawn

Meng Zhenyue was already up, busy at the stove.

Her hair was loosely pinned up, a purple silk nightdress brushing her knees and revealing her long, pale legs.

She hummed softly as she flipped eggs in the pan.

The white snowflake hairpin tucked among her strands caught the morning light with a faint sheen.

“Chinese food today,” she said, glancing back with a gentle smile.

“Fried eggs or scrambled?”

“Fried.”

“Then don’t come over. The oil splatters.”

The old exhaust fan rattled loudly.

Yun Zhixue lingered nearby, reluctant to leave.

“Coffee’s about to overflow,” Meng Zhenyue said.

“Go get a cup.”

Yun Zhixue went to the living room, slightly unwilling.

She didn’t like it there much, the smells were unfamiliar, the cups weren’t the pink ones she liked.

They felt as though they’d been used by someone else.

That reminded her of the cup she had shattered before.

The one with a note pressed under its base:

[Remember to eat properly today.]

A small heart drawn beside the words.

She poured the coffee and returned, standing quietly behind Meng Zhenyue.

Breakfast was set out neatly.

Outside, rain tapped against the metal awning by the window.

The old campus apartments had poor soundproofing, every noise felt amplified.

Meng Zhenyue didn’t eat much.

Yun Zhixue ate slowly, saving the fried egg for last.

The city’s river view was beautiful.

They drove out for a short loop in the early morning.

Sunlight flickered across Meng Zhenyue’s profile, bright and shadowed in turns.

“Did you have fun?”

She asked casually, her gaze catching Yun Zhixue’s reflection in the rearview mirror.

Yun Zhixue didn’t answer.

Meng Zhenyue reached over, adjusted the loosened seatbelt, and smoothed her hair aside.

“Fasten it properly.”

Traffic in Wuhan was terrible, jams stretching endlessly.

After more than ten minutes of waiting, Meng Zhenyue frowned and pulled over in a roundabout way.

“You took three detours today,” Yun Zhixue said softly, smoothing nonexistent creases in Meng Zhenyue’s shirt.

“You didn’t even stop at the flower shop.”

Meng Zhenyue tapped the steering wheel.

“The navigation malfunctioned.”

Yun Zhixue only smiled.

Meng Zhenyue took out a metal cigarette case, then paused, realizing her lighter had been confiscated at airport security.

Yun Zhixue produced a silver lighter.

With a click, flame bloomed.

Meng Zhenyue looked at her for a long moment.

“Did you look into me?” she asked coolly.

“I arrived, and you followed right after?”

“Mhm. Let’s go home.”

Meng Zhenyue’s voice hardened.

“So now, are you planning to be a bad child?”

The sunlight grew harsher as the clouds thinned.

Yun Zhixue knew it clearly, this unspoken struggle had begun long ago, from the moment Meng Zhenyue had fastened the first button of her school uniform for her.

Meng Zhenyue was irritated.

She had no fixed itinerary this time, no set place, no fixed residence.

Even she herself hadn’t known where she would end up.

Yet Yun Zhixue had found her anyway.

Yun Zhixue seemed excited, convinced this was a challenge set deliberately for her, and that she had exceeded expectations.

“Don’t be angry,” she said softly.

Meng Zhenyue chuckled faintly, eyes still on the rain-blurred road ahead.

“Angry? Weren’t you prepared for that already?”

“That’s not what I mean,” Yun Zhixue corrected her.

“I mean, today I should be the one who’s angry. You shouldn’t be.”

Meng Zhenyue fell silent for a brief moment.

“You remember things well,” she said at last.

“Then do you remember what I taught you?”

Yun Zhixue answered honestly.

“To stay away from you.”

Meng Zhenyue’s voice turned flat.

“So why didn’t you listen?”

Outside the car, several bodyguards waited and opened the door.

“Madam.”

Meng Zhenyue laughed, more exasperated than amused.

She tilted her head slightly, her composure effortless.

Yun Zhixue looked at her stubbornly.

“Mom. Let’s go home.”

Meng Zhenyue replied evenly,

“Get this straight. That wouldn’t be going home. That would be confinement.”