Mud beads

Liang Dong did not speak immediately.

He knelt by the bed, a towel clutched in his hand, slightly damp from his grip. Yu Zhu's fingers remained on his lips, the pads of her fingers gradually warming from his burning cheek, and she lingered there, unwilling to withdraw them.

Liang Dong's Adam's apple bobbed slightly.

He nodded slightly.

Yu Zhu propped herself up on the bed and leaned down to kiss him.

Liang Dong's entire back suddenly stiffened.

Her lips were softer than he had imagined. The kiss was light, almost too light to move, like a dream on a summer night. Her hair slipped down as she lowered her head, brushing against his face, the ends brushing against his neck, causing a slight tickle.

Liang Dong closed his eyes and raised his hand to hold the back of her neck.

His kiss was awkward. At first, their lips touched, moving slowly and carefully. Until Yu Zhu's fingers tightened, her nails tracing his chest. That touch, like a spark hitting dry grass, ignited his last vestiges of restraint.

He leaned forward uncontrollably, pressing his entire body against the kiss, just to deepen it.

He had wanted to do this for a long time.

It was so early that even he himself was unwilling to admit it.

The first time he saw her, she was standing under the lamp at the lemon tea stall, wearing a white shirt and navy shorts, holding an apron in her hand, her smile a little reserved. He glanced at her then, quickly lowering his head. Later, whenever he thought of that glance, a shiver would run down his spine.

She called him "little brother," taught him how to bargain, reminded him to use hot water to soak the tub, took him to the small auditorium, and sat him laughing in the audience. She was so beautiful, kind, and pure that she made him feel ashamed of himself. On many nights, he imagined pulling her into his arms, fantasizing about her calling his name. Afterward, he would feel a deep sense of regret.

As he repented, he called her "sister" over and over again, calling her sweetly and softly, locking away those budding thoughts.

Now that chain is broken.

Yu Zhu leaned back as he kissed her, her lower back almost touching the edge of the bed, but he pulled her legs back into his arms. Her short-sleeved shirt rolled up on the sheets, revealing a slender, fair waist.

Liang Dong suddenly stopped.

"Wait, wait, wait, wait..."

He closed his eyes, rested his forehead on her shoulder, and breathed heavily and hotly.

There was no air conditioning in the room, and the fan wasn't on either. Yu Zhu could feel Liang Dong's sweat trickling down his temples and soaking into her cotton clothes.

Yu Zhu reached out and lifted his face.

Liang Dong's eyes were still closed, his eyelashes damp with sweat and trembling. Looking at his furrowed brow and serious expression, she suddenly chuckled softly.

"Liang Dong," she called to him.

Before he could answer, she whispered again, "You can."

Liang Dong suddenly opened his tightly closed eyes.

The usual clarity and caution were gone from those gentle eyes; in their place was a tender, burning passion deeper than the night.

The wind blew through the cracks in the window, making the window frame creak softly. Yu Zhu buried her head in his broad chest, in his erratic heartbeat, and in the sweet scent of soap.

She wanted to be overwhelmed by the smell.

Especially tonight.

Liang Dong lowered his head and kissed her again.

This time it was much heavier. Yu Zhu was breathless from his tight, relentless kisses, her fingers gripping his back, feeling the boy's taut bones and flesh through the thin fabric.

He kissed her lips, her chin, and stopped abruptly when he reached her small earlobe, a heavy breath escaping his throat.

He reached up, grabbed the back of his collar, and pulled hard, taking off his T-shirt.

Moonlight streamed over his young and vigorous body, and a layer of fine, shimmering sweat floated on his skin.

His hand stopped at the hem of her dress, his knuckles showing a hint of bone.

"Is that okay?" he asked.

Yu Zhu raised her arm.

The fabric was slowly pushed up. Liang Dong's movements were so gentle that Yu Zhu trembled slightly. She closed her eyes, hearing her own breathing, and also his.

In the old building, someone's water pipe was leaking. Every now and then, a dripping sound would echo as it hit the metal basin, as if it were counting down the time.

Liang Dong suddenly stopped halfway through pulling the clothes.

Yu Zhu lowered her head following his gaze.

A shallow bite mark remained on her chest.

—Toru Echiza

Yu Zhu felt as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over her head, and she froze instantly.

Liang Dong remained silent for a while, saying nothing. He reached out and pulled her clothes back into his arms.

"You know," he said, his voice hoarse, "I love you."

His hand stopped behind her, patting her gently, as if he were trying to comfort her or himself.

Yu Zhu opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

"It's okay, we have plenty of time." Liang Dong hugged her, lowered his head, and smiled. "At least... it shouldn't be tonight."

Yu Zhu did not move.

Her face rested on Liang Dong's shoulder, her gaze fixed on the view outside the window.

The moon hung between the buildings, a cold, white patch, carrying an unchanging indifference.

She had never hated Eshima Toru as much as she did now.

Moth

After that night, everything was as if nothing had happened, and Yu Zhu and Liang Dong tacitly kept quiet about it.

With summer vacation approaching, Liang Dong's schedule became increasingly packed, and he came home later and later, so Yu Zhu started eating dinner alone again. But fortunately, their relationship didn't become distant because of this—no matter what time Liang Dong came home, he would knock on the door to greet her first, and sometimes he would bring her a delicious late-night snack.

Liang Dong became very clingy. Whenever he was with her, he would hug and kiss her constantly, and every day when they parted, he was reluctant to leave as if there was no tomorrow.

At the end of July, Liang Dong went to a film and television base in another city to shoot a new movie as planned, while Yu Zhu found a part-time job at a children's training institution during the summer.

The institution is located in a high-end shopping mall, next to an imported children's bookstore and a coffee shop. The glass doors reach to the ceiling and are spotless, with a line of small Chinese characters under the English signboard: International Children's Art and Expression Center. The reception desk is made of white oak with matte gold trim, and a flameless aromatherapy diffuser sits on the table, its citrus and cedar scents overpowering the disinfectant.

The waiting area was carpeted in light gray, and photos of children participating in overseas drama camps and English speech contests scrolled across the walls. Parents sat in leather chairs, coffee and English brochures beside them, their phone screens lit up, but their eyes would glance at the glass every few seconds. Children, dressed in clean polo shirts and little leather shoes, were confined inside the gleaming glass, running around on the herringbone wooden floor.

The fees here are very high.

The prices are so high that the consultants automatically lower their voices when mentioning the costs. The courses are also plentiful, including not only basic academic subjects but also painting, hosting, dance, and stage presence.

Yu Zhu originally applied for a job as a cultural studies teacher.

The HR saw her photos from the drama festival, stared at them for two seconds, and realized that the summer camp was in need of a part-time teacher to lead children's stage plays.

"You studied literature and have experience in stage plays, so you should be fine, right?"

Yu Zhu wanted to say there was a problem.

Before I could even finish speaking, the other person had already pushed the class schedule towards me.

In her first class, she led twelve children in rehearsing "The Wizard of Oz".

The drama classroom is designed like a black box, with three walls painted matte black and adjustable track lights hanging from the ceiling. The floor is covered with dark gray dance flooring, which has a slight bounce when stepped on. A row of open cabinets along the wall neatly displays rehearsal props; the crown is made of lightweight resin, the capes are folded by color, and even the lion's mane is combed neatly and cleanly.

Even with the air conditioning set to 20 degrees Celsius, the children were still sweating profusely from running around. The classroom was filled with the smell of children's sunscreen and fabric softener.

One boy refused to play the tree.

"The tree has too few lines," he said. "My mom says I'm here to practice my acting, not to stand guard."

The little girl next to her, holding up a witch's hat, immediately chimed in, "Then go tell your mom."

The classroom erupted in laughter.

Yu Zhu squatted down and straightened the boy's tree bark.

"Have you ever seen a real tree?" she asked.

The boy frowned: "Of course I've seen it."

"Trees don't usually talk," Yu Zhu said, "but when the wind blows, everyone knows it's moving. When it rains, birds know to seek shelter under it. People will stop and rest when they walk under it."

The boy looked at her but didn't immediately refute her.

Yu Zhu raised her hand and gently touched the tree sign on his chest: "Even with few lines, you can still be very important. If you stand here, Dorothy will stop and ask for directions. If you point to the left, she'll go to the left. If you point to the right, she'll go to the right. If you lie to her, the way she goes will change."

The boy hesitated for a moment: "Can I lie to her?"

"Okay," Yu Zhu said, "but you need to know why you're lying. Just causing trouble isn't acting. You need to have a secret in your heart for the audience to want to watch you."

The boy looked down at the sign on the tree: "Can I tell you my secret?"

"Idiot." The girl playing the witch ran over again. "A secret isn't a secret if it's told."

A short while later, the noise resumed, the children ran around, and the entire lesson was never properly followed. Yu Zhu's voice quickly became hoarse, and her back was sweating. After class, she walked into her office, exhausted, and plopped down in her office chair.

Miss Liu, the art teacher from the next class, handed her an iced cola, grinning smugly: "How's it going? How's your newbie trial card going?"

Yu Zhu said thank you, held the cola in her palm, and smiled, "It's fine."

She said, "At least they are all very opinionated."

Miss Liu made a clapping gesture.

Most of the teachers in the institution are young. Some are recent graduate students, while others are returnees from overseas studies. At lunchtime, a group of young people squeeze into the office to order milk tea and takeout, their gossip more intense than the dense chirping of cicadas outside in the sweltering summer heat.

"So-and-so is coming back to work," someone suddenly said.

The chopsticks stopped moving.

"Huh? Didn't she go abroad?"

"Let her come back and play. She can come and go as she pleases, who can stop her?"

"Will Old Xiao agree?"

"They have connections."

Yu Zhu didn't know exactly what they were talking about, only that "Old Xiao" was the owner of the training institution—a middle-aged man in his early forties, stylishly dressed, energetic, and usually elusive.

Yu Zhu had no classes in the afternoon, so she was temporarily called to the front desk to fill in for her.

The air conditioning at the front desk was even colder. Yu Zhu sat in front of her computer, wearing a coat, writing lesson plans, with a stack of trial class registration forms next to her. When parents came to inquire, she would stand up to pour water, introduce the courses according to the procedure, and then hand over the price list.

When she had free time, she would use her phone to reply to Liang Dong's messages.

Spicy rabbit head: Is it easy to take care of a child?

Yu Zhu: It's like ten Liang Xias speaking at the same time.

Spicy rabbit head: Baka!

Yu Zhu was secretly smiling when the soft sound of high heels suddenly came from the corridor.

A fragrant aroma wafted through the air.

A stylishly dressed woman stopped in front of the counter and tapped her knuckles lightly twice.

Yu Zhu quickly grabbed the registration form and stood up: "Hello—"

The other party did not reply.

Outside the counter, the woman took off her sunglasses.

She had a small face, delicate features, and very light pink lips. When she saw Yu Zhu, the casualness in her eyes slowly faded.

"Hello." She smiled. "We meet again."