Chapter 31: Loneliness

On the way home, Xiahou Ming walked around to the crooked old locust tree without any hope.
There was nothing under the tree except for a few leaves blown down by the wind.
She is not here after all.
Where did he go… did he just lock himself up at home?
Or… will it never appear again?
Xiahou Ming’s heart sank again.
On the roadside, a small stall selling braised dishes had not yet closed, and there were still some braised dried tofu and kelp shreds left on the chopping board.
She walked forward and used the money Lin Xiaomei gave her to buy two yuan worth of dried tofu.
When she got home, her mother was already asleep.
She walked into the kitchen and saw some leftover vegetables and two eggs on the stove.
She was silent for a moment and lit the gas stove.
There was a slight sound of oil popping in the pot, and soon, a familiar aroma of food filled the cold kitchen.
In order to keep it longer, she subconsciously added half a spoonful more salt than usual.
She took out the fried vegetables and eggs, let them cool down a little, and then carefully put them into the aluminum lunch box.
She also neatly arranged the braised tofu she bought today next to the vegetables.
Maybe… she will come tomorrow?
This thought occupied all her mind.
She covered the lunch box carefully.
The wind on that May night was damp and sultry, which made her a little worried.
She hesitated for a moment, took an old washbasin from outside the door, and filled it with cold tap water.
The water hit the bottom of the basin, making a “gurgling” sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet night.
She placed the lunch box that carried her tiny hope steadily in the cold water in the middle of the washbasin, and then carried the entire basin to the coolest corner of her room.
After doing all this, she closed the door.
She didn’t turn on the light, but walked to the mirror covered with a thin layer of dust with the faint moonlight coming through the window.
In the mirror, there was a silhouette whose expression could not be seen clearly.
All the noise of the day had now dissipated.
The brief time she spent with Lin Xiaomei did give her a sense of familiarity and security.
It seemed that as long as there was such a person around, the world would not change completely.
But…
Whenever she thought about going back to her old self, the image of Wen Xuelan trying hard to hold back her tears would appear before her eyes.
She couldn’t do it.
She didn’t want to become that kind of monster that made others cry.
But what if it’s not like that?
“What should I do?”
“Tell me…”
She reached out and gently touched the unfamiliar face in the mirror.
“I’m so lonely…”
A shaky sigh escaped her lips.
Even she herself didn’t know who she was talking to.
Was it to herself in the mirror?
Or was it to the person who was somewhere unknown and was the only one who might understand this loneliness?
This loneliness gripped her heart tightly, making her feel a suffocating emptiness.
She needed to do something.
Anything.
Just to fill this void.
As long as it could make her feel that she really existed.
Her eyes inadvertently caught sight of the neatly folded dark blue dress on the bedside table.
Wen Xuelan’s skirt.
A mixture of guilt, destructive desire, and strange excitement seized her.
She walked over, picked up the dress, spread it on the cold concrete floor, and knelt on it.
The fabric no longer had anyone else’s scent, leaving only her own faint scent.
This was a completely unfamiliar exploration.
She knew nothing about the structure of this body and could only rely on a vague instinct to find the switch that could free her from the loneliness at that moment.
Her hand, as if bewitched, uncontrollably reached into the hem of her clothes…
The first time her fingertips touched her unfamiliar body, it brought a faint but extremely clear shudder that made her whole body stiffen.
The touch was different from anywhere else.
Lin Xiaomei’s flushed face flashed through her mind.
So… could this alone make her become like that?
Every slight touch was like plucking a brand new string, bringing a buzzing sound that was unfamiliar to her.
Her breathing began to become uncontrollably rapid and hot.
The image of Wen Xuelan, who was timid, kind, and trying hard to help others, appeared before her eyes.
‘I’m sorry… I’m sorry…’
In her heart, she apologized to the skirt beneath her, but her hands moved even harder because of the guilt.
Just when she was about to get lost in this forbidden exploration, she suddenly remembered something.
She fished it out from under the bed.
—The white plastic recorder belonging to Ling Yicai.
The moment she held it, a bolder and more blasphemous idea came to her mind.
As if to exact revenge on everyone, she used the cold flute head to replace her own fingers…
“No…”
The mixture of pain and pleasure almost made her moan.
What flashed through her mind were Ling Yicai’s eyes filled with tears and obsessive love.
The feeling of humiliation and the excitement of the moment were strangely intertwined, completely tearing her sanity apart.
She could no longer bear the conflict and threw the recorder aside, gasping in horror.
But the fire that had been ignited in her body could no longer be extinguished.
She could only use her own hands to continue this unstoppable ritual.
When all the chaos was about to converge into a burst of electricity that would make her brain go blank—
The last thing that froze in front of her eyes were Yu Yuhui’s bottomless, eternally calm, dark eyes that seemed to be staring at her quietly in the darkness.
Was she… watching?
Let her see.
Let her see how this butterfly in her eyes flapped its muddy wings for the first time.
Driven by this idea, she completely indulged herself.
For a long, long time.
She curled up in the skirt that belonged to Wen Xuelan, gasping and trembling violently because of this unprecedented experience.
But this time, there were no tears or sweat on her face.
Instead, there was a smile that was a mixture of fatigue, satisfaction, and a hint of… sickness.
So… this is what it felt like to be a bad girl.
She held onto the wall and stood up unsteadily.
She didn’t look at the recorder that fell to the side, nor did she look at herself in the mirror, who was disheveled and had a flushed face.
She walked to the bed, squatted down, and took out the rusty little iron box.
Opened the lid of the box, and ten neatly laid ten-yuan bills lay quietly inside.
She silently put the change that Lin Xiaomei gave her, which still carried the warmth of victory, together with the banknotes.
She stared at the money in the tin box.
After experiencing the inner storm that almost tore her apart, she found a vague yet extremely clear answer.
What she wanted… was more.
Learn more about the world.
Discover more about this body.
And… more, to enjoy this new feeling.
She closed the tin and stuffed it back under the bed.
Then she climbed into bed, lay down, opened her eyes, and waited calmly for the next day to come.
She knew she had to find that person.
The one who could tell her who she was.
—If she were really a butterfly.
—Then only she could teach her how to break out of the cocoon.