Pillowside Passion - Chapter 1

1:

After a twelve-hour flight, Du Qingting had barely taken off her jacket and settled in at home when her younger sister started babbling about an arranged marriage.

Du Qingting, exhausted, pinched the bridge of her nose and leaned back. “Who’s the unlucky soul that has to marry You Jin?”

Who was You Jin? Everyone described her as strict, demanding, old-fashioned, sharp-tongued, ascetic, and apparently a vegetarian. Not a single good word about her.

“You don’t know?” Du Nuanzhi looked shocked. “The unlucky soul is you!”

Her teasing gaze scanned Du Qingting up and down.

Du Qingting frowned. “Don’t mess with me.”

Du Nuanzhi replied, “Why would I lie? I heard it straight from Mom and Dad. They think you’re a mess who can’t accomplish anything but can surely ruin everything, so they figured marrying you off to You Jin would be perfect. She can keep you in check. You’ve been running wild abroad for two years, and it’s been giving them headaches.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Why did I even go abroad in the first place? Don’t they ever reflect on that?” Du Qingting was baffled, her brows furrowing tighter, the tension making her rub her forehead again.

Du Nuanzhi said, “Because you scored 250 on the college entrance exam, didn’t make the undergraduate cutoff, and felt too humiliated to face Mom and Dad. So you ran off abroad in a huff.”

“…That’s only part of the reason.”

“What, scared of You Jin or something?”

“…”

Back in high school, Du Qingting’s grades were abysmal. Even after repeating a year, they were still terrible. Her family, out of options, had begged You Jin, a certified genius, to tutor her.

It took days of pleading to even get You Jin to agree.

The bad bl00d between Du Qingting and You Jin went way back to childhood. You Jin, three years older, was already the queen bee of kindergarten when Du Qingting was just learning to talk. Adults called You Jin a “smart little treasure.”

By the time Du Qingting started school, she was setting new lows for parental expectations—often found napping on a cot with a blanket long after everyone else had left. It was always second-grader You Jin who dragged her home.

By elementary school, Du Qingting was consistently in the bottom three of her class. Her parents frequently sent her to the Yu family for tutoring, where You Jin never went easy on her, smacking her with a ruler without mercy. To Du Qingting, You Jin was like a cat to her mouse. She finally caught a break in third grade when You Jin was accepted early into a gifted program, giving Du Qingting some breathing room.

During her college entrance exam year, You Jin’s tutoring had actually helped her grades enough to scrape by for an undergraduate program. But a bad cold during the exam led to a disastrous 250 points.

When the results came out, her hands shook. Sneaking home, she found You Jin sitting on the couch, holding a ruler, her eyes glinting coldly. Du Qingting’s backside clenched in fear; she climbed out a window, grabbed her documents, and fled abroad that very night.

For the next seven years, Du Qingting stayed abroad, never returning home. During holidays, she was a lonely stranger in a foreign land, avoiding video calls with her family, terrified You Jin might be visiting and spot her.

This time, she’d returned thinking seven years was long enough. At 25, with You Jin at 28, surely old grudges had faded. Plus, she’d heard You Jin was getting married, so she thought it was safe to come back.

And now, that clown was her?

Du Nuanzhi patted her shoulder. “Don’t stress. Look at me, I’m doing fine. You Jin hasn’t smacked me in eighteen years.”

“You’re only eighteen,” Du Qingting retorted.

“Hahaha!” Du Nuanzhi smugly spread her hands, grabbed a drink from the fridge, took a swig, and tossed another bottle to Du Qingting. “What can I say? Your grades have always been trash.”

“Forget the soda, give me a cocktail,” Du Qingting said.

Du Nuanzhi grabbed a peach-flavored one and handed it over. As Du Qingting popped the tab, Du Nuanzhi leaned in to sniff, her alcohol allergy not stopping her curiosity. “Sis, smells amazing.”

Du Qingting took a sip and asked, “Is You Jin super old-fashioned now? Shirt buttoned to the top, always talking about work, glaring at everyone like they’re criminals, and super aggressive?”

Du Nuanzhi eyed the glass bottle. “I don’t know. I saw her once two years ago during New Year’s. Mom and Dad keep saying how amazing and smart she is, so probably? Hey, if I take an allergy pill, one sip won’t hurt, right?”

Du Qingting handed her the bottle. Du Nuanzhi grinned and took it, but Du Qingting grabbed her phone. “I’ll call an ambulance just to be safe.”

Du Nuanzhi choked and handed the bottle back.

Du Qingting took it to the couch, keeping her distance to avoid triggering her sister’s allergy with alcohol fumes.

“I’m not eating at home tonight. Tell Mom and Dad.”

“You’re running away?”

Du Qingting shot her a look. “Going clubbing, checking out girls.” She smirked, a bit roguish. “Wanna come?”

“Nah, we’re not on the same wavelength. I’m going to karaoke.” Du Nuanzhi got up from the couch, climbed a nearby rope ladder to the loft, and added, “You Jin’s definitely a beauty. I saw her from behind—tall, slender, like a willow. You’re not losing out.”

Du Qingting cut her off. “I’m rejecting this marriage because I’m not into her. Marrying her would be like signing up for a lifetime of widowhood. She’s not my type.”

Du Nuanzhi glanced at her. Du Qingting was in a tight black tank top, showing off her toned abs and waist, her skin a healthy, honeyed tan. After years abroad, her sister had turned herself into a total badass. Du Nuanzhi tsked. “Player.”

“Cheeky.”

Du Qingting finished her cocktail, thought about getting up, but her aching limbs kept her sprawled on the couch, where she napped.

At six in the evening, she woke up, sober after metabolizing the alcohol. She showered, changed into a halter top and black hot pants, and checked herself in the mirror. She did look a bit wild.

It was summer, after all. If you didn’t let loose, you’d burn up.

Riding her motorcycle, the wind whipping past her, she was resolute: no way was she marrying You Jin.

It wasn’t just a lack of attraction. Getting married young, trapped in a controlling relationship, was a nightmare. To hell with it.

“Forget it.” Du Qingting stopped thinking. Marriage wasn’t set in stone. Even if it happened, she’d be the one calling the shots, not You Jin.

Memories of being manhandled by You Jin as a kid—her Ultraman and Pleasant Goat cards confiscated, her hands and backside smacked made her rebellious spirit ache.

She headed straight to a bar. The sight of a sultry pole dance greeted her, but it didn’t spark her interest. Scanning the crowd, her face blindness made it hard to recognize anyone until someone stood up, waving and shouting her name.

She’d arranged to meet five high school friends, but only Gu Rui was there waiting. After years apart, Gu Rui gawked, exclaiming over her figure and looks.

Du Qingting leaned back, exhaling, and squinted at Gu Rui. “Keep your eyes to yourself, or I’ll gouge them out.”

After catching up, Gu Rui pointed to the bar counter. “Check out that beauty. I’ve been staring for ages.”

Du Qingting, wanting to dig up info on You Jin, asked around while following Gu Rui’s gaze.

She was stunning.

The woman had a killer figure, wearing a white shirt buttoned up tightly, the fabric clinging to her curves, hinting at a full chest. Her crossed legs revealed a long, graceful line.

Most striking was her silver-rimmed glasses, high nose bridge, and sharp, arched brows, exuding a restrained yet explosive allure. Sipping red wine from a tall glass, her lips glistened, and with a flick of her finger, the wine swirled.

Even Gu Rui was restless, and Du Qingting’s heart skipped a beat. This woman was a total vixen.

She instantly forgot all about that old-fashioned You Jin.

“She looks familiar,” Du Qingting said.

“Every beauty looks familiar,” Gu Rui replied.

He asked, “What were you saying earlier? About who? You Jin? Don’t bring her up. She’s harsh, sharp-tongued, and brutal. When I graduated college, my mom pulled strings to get me an internship at her company. Guess what? She asked where I studied and my exam scores. I swear I heard her laugh and say, ‘Oh, 400.’”

Du Qingting’s lips twitched. “400?”

“Her tone was even more mocking.” Gu Rui mimicked her, voice dripping with sarcasm, his face contorting. Du Qingting frowned.

“So, she’s got a thing against low achievers?” Du Qingting thought of her own scores, grateful she’d fled back then.

“Yup.” Gu Rui nodded. “And she’s a perfectionist. My dad wanted to collaborate with her, had to bow and scrape, and visited four times. The old man nearly went gray overnight.”

Du Qingting listened quietly. Gu Rui offered her a cigarette. “Why are you asking about her? Thinking of working for her? Don’t. You wouldn’t survive.”

Du Qingting took the cigarette, holding it between her fingers, frustrated. “Nah, just here for the view.”

The beauty glanced their way. Her arm rested on the counter, shirt pristine, but after spotting Du Qingting, her fingers toyed with her collar, unbuttoning and rebuttoning it a few times.

Gu Rui nudged her excitedly. “She’s coming over!”

Sure enough, the beauty approached, her unique fragrance cutting through the bar’s alcoholic haze.

Gu Rui, flustered, offered her his seat. “Wanna sit here?”

“I prefer women,” the beauty said. Her high heels and black trousers accentuated her long legs, exuding a forbidden allure. Her eyes locked onto Du Qingting, who raised a brow, surprised but flattered.

Gu Rui’s eyes nearly popped out with envy as he gave up his seat. The beauty sat next to Du Qingting, while Gu Rui moved across, smirking at her luck.

The woman held a lighter, their eyes meeting. “Do you smoke?” she asked.

“Just for show. I don’t,” Du Qingting replied.

“Good girl.”

The woman lit the cigarette for her. The faint spark glowed, and though Du Qingting smoked occasionally, the mix of mint and agarwood in the smoke—some fancy brand Gu Rui had—felt intoxicatingly irresistible.

The atmosphere was thick with tension, their silence almost too dry.

Something felt off to Du Qingting, but she couldn’t place it. Gu Rui’s exaggerated winking didn’t help.

She asked, “What’s your name?”

The woman smiled faintly, didn’t answer, and took the cigarette from Du Qingting’s hand, holding it between her fingers. The glowing tip burned brightly. Gu Rui couldn’t help but notice her unpainted nails, still so captivating, her presence overwhelming.

Leaning close, she whispered in Du Qingting’s ear, “Sorry, I’ve got to go.”

“Where to?” Du Qingting asked.

“Business trip. To Xianghai.”

The bar was at its peak, loud and chaotic, and the woman’s breath against her ear made it tingle.

“Oh, alright…” Du Qingting watched her stand, her tone flat, unaware of the faint regret in her voice.

Their brief exchange of no touching, just the act of lighting a cigarette left Du Qingting’s heart fluttering. Worse, the woman handed the cigarette back. “Here.”

Du Qingting shook her head, refusing it. The woman walked to the door, glanced back under the dim red lights, and crushed the cigarette into a glass ashtray.

Du Qingting’s heart raced.

Gu Rui slapped her shoulder. “Your cigarette’s about to burn the couch!”

Snapping out of it, Du Qingting realized the cigarette was already out. Gu Rui burst out laughing. “She’s gone, and you’re still burning up!”

The beauty’s silhouette was gone from the bustling bar. Du Qingting touched her nose, catching a lingering scent despite there being none.

With the cigarette out and the beauty gone, the bar lost its appeal. Gu Rui spotted a new target and went off to flirt. Du Qingting’s phone kept buzzing. She stepped outside to answer, scanning for the woman but only spotting some shady guys trying to pick up a drunk. “What are you doing? Cops!” she shouted, and they scattered.

Her phone wouldn’t stop ringing. The hot summer night made her irritable. She glanced at the screen, took a deep breath, and answered.

“Stop messing around at bars and come home early. Get yourself cleaned up, and I’ll take you to dinner,” her mom said.

“Do I have to get married?” Du Qingting cut to the chase. “I could work at the company, maybe make something of myself. Why marry so young?”

“And so what? Run our family into the ground?”

Du Qingting wanted to curse but held back since it was her mom.

“Just meet her once. We’ll talk about the rest later.”

“Fine.”

“When are you coming home?” her mom pressed. “You’re still scared of You Jin, are you? She’s much gentler now.”

“I know, I’m not a kid. I’m hanging up.” Before disconnecting, Du Qingting added, “Mom, my heart belongs to someone else.”

“What? Bad signal? Come home soon!”

Her mom was already nagging, and they hadn’t even started. Du Qingting could only imagine how bad it’d be after marriage—her mom nagging, her wife nagging. What kind of life was that? It wasn’t fear of You Jin; it was dread of being chained down.

She wanted to vent to her friends, but they were off chasing girls, nowhere to be seen.

Du Qingting went back inside but turned around again. Without that woman, there was nothing worth looking at. She called a cab.

In the backseat, she realized she had not drunk anything tonight—her mom’s pressure had just scrambled her brain. She told the driver, “To the airport!”

At the airport, clarity hit. She grabbed her ID, rushed to the check-in counter, and pulled out her phone to get a ticket.

Run. That was the plan.

Who’d marry an old fossil?

With a ticket to Xianghai in hand, Du Qingting exhaled heavily.

Goodbye, arranged marriage. Goodbye, You Jin.

She drafted a message: [Mom, I’m never marrying You Jin. Give it up.]

But she deleted it before sending.

Clutching her ticket, she headed to the VIP lounge on the second floor, grabbing a freshly brewed coffee at the entrance. From a distance, she spotted a familiar figure, the woman flipping through a book provided by the lounge.

Their eyes met as the woman looked up.

“What a coincidence,” Du Qingting said, smiling as she approached.

You Jin, legs crossed, squinted slightly, then uncrossed them. “Yeah, quite a coincidence.”