Little T Lurking in the Beauty Salon, What's the Purpose of All the Flirting? - Chapter 1

Seeing Xixi’s fierce glare, I quickly rolled off the bed to avoid being kicked off at any moment. As I scrambled for my slippers, I frantically tried to figure out how to explain myself.

Xixi… I began.

Get out! Go change your underwear!

Xixi…

Get out! I knew you never loved me!

Xixi… that person was…

Get out! Do you think I’m stupid? Don’t bother making up excuses!

Xixi… I really didn’t…

One more word and I’ll beat you to death!

That shut me up instantly. Her face livid, she threw on her clothes and shoes, didn’t even wash her face, and slammed the door behind her. As she stormed out, she spat, Stay the hell away from me in the future! If my arm wasn’t sore from last night, I’d have beaten you to death!

I stood by the door, gasping for breath. Xixi, do you have bipolar disorder?

I pulled my finger out of my nostril. The nosebleed had already dried, and I marveled at my body’s remarkable healing ability. As I washed my face, I knew there was no explaining this to Xixi. For anyone else, it might have been a minor misunderstanding, but not for her. I wondered if all Scorpios were like this, convinced that their own beliefs were absolute truth, brooking no dissent.

After washing up, my nose bridge throbbed. By noon, when I checked in the mirror, it had turned blue. I cursed Lao Mi’s broken finger, blisters, and boils—anything that would keep him from having s3x.

That afternoon, a friend called to say Xixi hadn’t come to work. She’d gone to my friend’s place, gotten drunk, and wept bitterly, cursing my ancestors for eight generations. If you don’t come over, my friend warned, your family graves are in danger. My heart sank. Xixi still loved me; her temper might be genetic, not her fault.

I rushed to my friend’s apartment. When I arrived, Xixi was lying on the living room floor, pretending to be dead. I knelt down and called her name twice. She groggily opened her eyes, scrambled up, and threw her arms around me. Xiao Taohong, she sobbed, just answer one question was the person who texted you this morning T?

…This question is a trap, I thought. It’s cornering me with no way out.

Answer me, yes or no, Xixi sobbed, her voice thick with tears.

Yes, I whispered, so softly I could barely hear myself. But Xixi, let me explain…

Smack! Xixi released me and slapped me hard across the face. This is for both of you. Get out!

My friends rushed over to intervene, but Xixi kept her head down, refusing to look at me. One minute. If you don’t leave, I will. She staggered toward the bathroom, and I heard her retching violently.

Clutching my stinging cheek, I realized we were utterly incapable of communicating. My friends were stunned by the slap. Xiao Taohong, why don’t you go home? Look at how drunk she is. I’ll talk to her later.

Okay, thanks, I mumbled. I stepped outside and stood on the curb, waiting for a taxi, convinced that this was the end for Xixi and me. We had loved too fiercely, so fiercely that words had lost their meaning, leaving only violence.

I went straight to a bar and downed several bottles of liquor on an empty stomach. All that talk about heartbreak, sadness, and chest tightness was just bullshit. I was simply irritated and my face hurt like hell. Maybe the alcohol could numb the pain.

It was past nine when I left the bar. As the taxi neared my apartment, I noticed the lights were still on at the beauty salon and told the driver to stop. I stumbled inside, swaying unsteadily.

Yes, it was anger! In that moment, I felt an overwhelming hatred for Lao Mi. I wanted to go inside and strangle her!

For the past six months, despite the violence and the frequent bruises, I had always felt loved. I could sense Xixi’s intense, almost obsessive affection, as if she wanted to chew me up, swallow me whole, and fuse me into her very being.

But now, I had lost it all. There would be no more beatings, no more kisses on my battered wounds, no more shameless caresses of my swollen face accompanied by, Baby, does it hurt? I’m so sorry

Xixi had stormed off in a fit of anger, and I had inexplicably been struck with a phone and a slap.

Lao Mi, you b1tch!

I pushed open the door and stepped inside. The place was eerily quiet and empty. Refusing to call out her name, I kicked over the brochure rack by the entrance.

It worked. The inner door swung open, and Lao Mi emerged, feigning surprise. What are you doing here so late? Have you been drinking?

I bent down, grabbed a stack of promotional flyers from the floor, and hurled them at her face. But not a single one hit; they all fluttered harmlessly to the ground.

You could use that to hit me, Lao Mi said, pointing to the overturned brochure rack.

This was nothing like what I’d imagined. In my script, she would bombard me with a hundred thousand whys about my disruptive behavior, and I would erupt in a furious tirade, accusing her of sending that damned text message.

Seeing I wasn’t moving, she grabbed my arm and pulled me inside, saying, I’ll help you sober up.

I shook off her hand, cursing under my breath. She stopped, turned, and grinned at me like an idiot. Lao Mi was actually quite handsome, with flawless skin, youthful features, and a clean, mischievous charm.

After a few more shouts, I let go. She leaned closer. You seem upset. Want some special service?

My head was spinning, my body numb, my tongue twisted. Looking at her nonchalant, provocative expression, I suddenly realized my anger was no match for her street smarts.

Sensing my hesitation, Lao Mi dragged me into the back room. I glanced around groggily—no one else was there.

Only her voice echoed in my ears Take off your clothes. I’ll help you sober up.