Pillowside Passion - Chapter 25

25:

Du Qingting froze in place, utterly shocked and unable to comprehend. Half her face scrunched up. She even suspected her phone was possessed by something bizarre, how else could she explain it…

Why was it You Jin’s voice?

No, why did her seven-day girlfriend sound exactly like You Jin?

Du Qingting couldn’t face reality, let alone believe it. She felt like she’d been cursed on Qixi.

Her phone went silent, no sound from the other end. She didn’t even want it anymore, slowly stepping back—just one step—when a voice came through again.

You Jin said, “Look up.”

Then added, “Darling.”

Du Qingting wanted to die; her whole body felt feverish.

She had to admit, You Jin wasn’t just beautiful—her voice was enchanting, soft and alluring with a unique tenderness. Now, in the dark of night, with the evening breeze, it carried a hint of eerie thrill, like a classic unhinged beauty vibe.

Before, it made her ears tingle with delight; now, it hammered her heart against her chest.

Her brain followed the voice like a trained dog. Told to look up, she looked up.

On the restaurant’s terrace, You Jin leaned against the railing, her curly hair pinned up, a single wisp curling by her face, swaying in the breeze. She wore a fitted black low-cut slip dress, her figure exquisite.

She moved her phone slightly away, asking the onlooker below with a hint of doubt, “So, is it really that old-fashioned, that outdated?”

Stunning and irresistible, truly living up to the word “goddess.”

It reminded Du Qingting of a line from a poem in her textbook, though its meaning might not fit here, it just came to mind:

“Afraid to be seen in shame.”

It was really her—the mysterious, vanished woman, breathtaking and intoxicating.

Du Qingting didn’t dare keep looking. After one glance, she lowered her head, stepping back faster. She wanted to die. She’d never imagined that woman could be You Jin. You Jin was supposed to be a rigid, serious woman who only wore long sleeves and pants, strictly traditional.

Du Qingting couldn’t face this absurd, wretched reality.

You Jin said, “So bold when you thought I was your girlfriend, but now that you know I’m You Jin, you’re this cowardly.” She sighed softly.

“Little coward dog.”

Normally, Du Qingting would’ve been provoked into action, but now her brain crashed, unable to respond.

Fragmented memories flooded back—hugging You Jin from behind, barking “woof” in her ear, You Jin calling her a vengeful puppy, her proudly saying she was You Jin’s dog, wanting to be her naughty puppy, and then… doing it with her…

Damn it, her toes curled in embarrassment.

Her whole body went numb.

She wanted to die, desperately.

If she weren’t so prideful, she’d have run into the street screaming, Let me die, let me die!

You Jin’s tone grew serious. “Come up.”

Without lifting her head, Du Qingting turned, jumped onto her motorcycle, and started it without a helmet.

Her toes were numb from curling, and riding was unsafe, but she didn’t care. With her best riding skills, she sped off, leaving her phone on the ground.

You Jin, arms on the railing, watched her retreating figure, then looked at the abandoned phone.

The breeze cooled Du Qingting’s burning face. Staring at the darkening sky, the world felt hollow. She was deeply sad. Soon, she was stopped. Qixi meant more couples and families out, increasing traffic and stricter enforcement. Without a helmet, she was pulled over at the next intersection. Checking her pockets, she had no phone, no money.

Her brain was numb. She rummaged through her chest bag, finally pulling out her cardholder. The first page was a kissing photo with that woman… You Jin. She closed her eyes in despair.

The traffic officer glanced at it. “This is your girlfriend? Pretty sweet. Look, it’s Qixi festival, roads are packed with people and cars, and you’re not wearing a helmet. What if something happens? What will your pretty girlfriend do?”

Seeing her on the verge of tears, looking half-dead, he asked, “Broke up?”

Du Qingting turned her face away, her heart aching worse than death. In the photo, she was the one kissing You Jin, one hand around her neck, the other holding the camera… You Jin looked startled, confused, but mostly smiling.

The officer took pity. “Alright, don’t cry. I’ll write you a ticket, pay it later. I’ll note your number, but I’m taking the bike.”

“No, no!” Du Qingting quickly flipped past the photo, digging through her cardholder’s inner layer to find a crumpled red bill folded into a heart from who-knows-when.

She handed it to the officer. Just a bit more, and she’d have had to call a parent to pay the fine—the closest one being right behind her. She couldn’t tell if this was a new level of social death or a strokechelle luck.

The officer lectured her. Devastated, Du Qingting got off and pushed the bike back. She’d left her helmet on the back seat when she dismounted; it must’ve fallen off during her escape. She hadn’t gone far, it should be nearby.

But she didn’t want to go back. She wanted to carry her bike and flee overnight. The officer, worried about her state, followed on his bike.

Du Qingting turned. “Stop following, brother. I want to die.”

“Come on, don’t be like that. A breakup’s not worth it,” he implored. He followed her even closer, trying to console her.

Du Qingting was losing it. She was already dramatic enough. “Give me a break, let me be alone.”

She pushed the bike about 800 meters. Seeing she wasn’t suicidal, the officer turned around, comforting her. “Valentine’s Day stuff happens all the time. The police station sees tons of cases yearly. Think about it, lots of people get through it. You’re still young.”

Not her. She felt like the only one in the world.

In her head: You don’t get it. You don’t know what I’ve been through.

“There’s better, prettier, more suitable people out there.”

Even more painful.

You Jin was already beautiful.

So, You Jin saw Du Qingting pushing her motorcycle back, panting from exhaustion.

Du Qingting thought, I’ve pushed this far, she’s probably gone. Gathering courage, she looked up and saw that face she’d been longing for, staring intently at her.

After tangling with the officer and pushing the bike, at least half an hour had passed, yet You Jin was still there, waiting.

Candlelight flickered behind her, the couple’s meal on the table untouched, two glasses of red wine side by side.

Damn it, seeing that focused gaze, Du Qingting felt a mix of awkwardness and fondness, sinking into that gentle look.

Ridiculous.

In a flash, she scrambled for her helmet. No helmet, no phone.

The next second, You Jin saw Du Qingting jump on her bike and speed off again.

You Jin bit her lip hard, unable to hold back a laugh.

Soon, the bike stopped—Du Qingting wasn’t dumb enough to get caught by the police twice.

But her phone and helmet was with You Jin. She couldn’t push the bike back again, and she had no money for a cab.

“Damn it, crap.” She stomped hard.

A car’s headlights flashed behind her. Thinking someone was urging her, she turned to apologize—and locked eyes with You Jin.

That radiant, impossibly gentle face.

You Jin handed her the helmet from the car.

Du Qingting, sweating awkwardly, confirmed it was really You Jin.

You Jin said, “Get in. I’ll drive you.”

Du Qingting grabbed the helmet, fastened it. You Jin added, “Drive slowly. Qixi festival’s crowded with couples.”

Du Qingting rode, You Jin’s car trailing behind.

As she rode, jumbled memories surged—You Jin sitting behind her, arms around her waist.

“I want to hold you.”

“I like you.”

Du Qingting kept her head down, eyes glued to the traffic lights. The half-hour ride was smooth, no crowds. When empty, she sped up. Near her gate, she glanced back.

You Jin’s car slowed.

Du Qingting’s look was simple—she needed to confirm if she was that woman, if that woman was You Jin.

What if You Jin exploited her face blindness, deceiving her by posing as that woman?

Her glance was brief, not quite catching You Jin’s face, but she clearly saw You Jin’s silver-rimmed glasses glinting coldly in the light—unmistakable.

That glance let You Jin see her clearly. Du Qingting wore a choker, leather with white diamonds, sparkling in the light.

You Jin smiled at her. Du Qingting wobbled, her bike nearly tipping. She quickly turned it off, abandoned it, and ran into the compound.

At the door, she bolted upstairs. Du Nuanzhi, eating chips and watching a variety show, shouted, “Mom, sis is back! She didn’t run!”

Chen Huiru rushed out, her smile fading as Du Qingting shot past like a cannon, charging into her room, locking the door.

She sat on the floor, catching her breath, and looked up at a 20-inch photo on the wall—You Jin on a beach, playing ball happily.

Looking elsewhere, her bedside table held another photo of them together, beside her treasured Touch-Me-Not plant, blissful and romantic.

Suffocating, so suffocating.

Downstairs, the compound’s doorbell rang.

Instantly, Du Qingting sensed You Jin. Her whole body tensed, ears perked. Luckily, her hearing was sharp, catching the conversation outside.

Her mom opened the door, exclaiming, “Xiao Jin! Qingting just got back. Come in, I’ll call her.”

Chen Huiru was gossipy and curious. Du Qingting had returned without a word, rushing upstairs. She feared Du Qingting had lied, dodging You Jin entirely.

“These flowers are for her,” You Jin said.

“Flowers? How sweet! Qingting said she’d get you some too, but in her rush, the maid forgot to give them to her.” Chen Huiru hugged the large rose bouquet, smiling and inviting her in.

You Jin smiled.

Chen Huiru didn’t ask directly how their meeting went, saying tactfully, “She… did okay today, right? She’s grown up but still tongue-tied.”

You Jin said, “Yeah, she was fine. We had a good time today.”

Chen Huiru tried to get You Jin to stay, but after some back-and-forth for over ten minutes, You Jin left.

Chen Huiru was confused. The flowers smelled lovely. She carried them upstairs. Du Qingting leapt onto her bed, pulling the blanket over her, wanting to cry but unable to.

Someone, tell her how this happened.

Last night, she barely slept, plotting how to reject You Jin—coldly, decisively. She’d even posed for two hours. But her plan failed spectacularly.

Chen Huiru knocked twice. Du Qingting had left at 5 p.m.; it wasn’t midnight yet. The date seemed to end early.

Not daring to ask, since You Jin said to let Du Qingting rest, she left the flowers at the door. “Baby, don’t forget to take the flowers.”

Chen Huiru listened at the door, hearing nothing, then shouted to Du Nuanzhi, “Nuan Nuan! Lower the TV, I can’t hear what your sister’s doing!”

Du Qingting, sleepless the previous night, tossed and turned, now tired yet wired, painfully awkward. She held out until 3 or 4 a.m., finally sleeping.

In her dream, a woman faced a window, curtains swaying in the breeze, half the room lit. Her slender fingers fumbled with a clasp under her shoulder blade—one try, two, always just missing.

This dream had replayed before.

It had happened for real.

But she couldn’t recall when.

Until the woman softly called, “Xiao Qingtig… help me…”

Du Qingting went to fasten the clasp, hugging her waist. The woman turned, and Du Qingting saw her face—her brain screamed: You Jin.

Looking up, the window’s light vanished, turning to a stormy night, like a memory. She stood at the door.

Someone fastening a bra said, “Come help your sister.”

She gritted her teeth, shouting, “You Jin!”

“You Jin!” Du Qingting woke, drenched in sweat.

She was done for.

A faint fragrance hit her nose. She glanced at the window—curtains still, but she suspected You Jin had been there. Following the scent, she saw the Touch-Me-Not plant.

She wanted to see You Jin again.

No, she wanted to see that woman again.

But… not like this. It was too heartbreaking, too heavy a price…

Du Qingting slapped herself hard.

She wanted to slap herself to death.

The past was unbearable. She recalled the train, plotting to deal with a scumbag for You Jin.

Praying to God and Buddha.

God and Buddha really answered, slapping her hard. It hurt like hell.

Unable to sleep, she got up, grabbed a garden hoe, and frantically dug a pit in the yard. She tossed in the Touch-Me-Not plant and the bouquet from the door.

Standing by the pit, shrouded in endless darkness, she felt sorrowful, tempted to kneel before it.

Chen Huiru was woken by the noise.

Baffled, she dragged her younger daughter to look, fearing Du Qingting was losing it. “What’s your sister doing, burying something?”

Du Nuanzhi, eyes bleary, yawning on the balcony, tried to sound serious. “Burying love.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Burying the past, mourning dead love.”

“So she’s getting with You Jin? Let’s not disturb her.” Chen Huiru hurried back, pulling Du Nuanzhi along. “Let your sister bury a bit longer.”

The next day, Du Qingting was utterly drained.

Her first thought was escaping Earth. Impossible, so she considered fleeing abroad, never returning, never marrying—maybe shaving her head.

But she needed a ticket. Patting her pockets—laughable—her phone was with You Jin. She asked Du Nuanzhi to lend her 5,000 yuan, promising to repay.

Du Nuanzhi, gaming and snacking in the living room, said, “Sister, repay in how many years?” Seeing her wilted look and recalling the pit, she was startled. “You killed someone and need to flee? That’s wrong, turn yourself in.”

Du Qingting pursed her lips. “Are you dumb? Be normal.”

“Oh.” Du Nuanzhi said, “You trying to run? Honestly, You Jin’s looks—don’t you want that?”

“You don’t get it,” Du Qingting said. “Give me the money.”

“I’ll take collateral.”

Du Nuanzhi demanded, “Your camera!”

The girl had a grudge after being shown up. “Give it, and I’ll give you 5,000.”

Du Qingting’s brain stalled. “That camera’s over 300,000 yuan. If I pawn it, I’d get at least 250,000. You’re offering 5,000?”

“Then pawn it,” Du Nuanzhi said. “I’m different, you can buy it back for 50,000 later.”

Du Qingting pointed at her nose. Her sister was a shrewd one. About to scold her, a dog barked outside. Du Nuanzhi glanced out, then back, seeing Du Qingting rocket upstairs, slamming the door.

Du Nuanzhi: “?”

“No money? Weird.”

Hearing no response, she went outside. You Jin was walking her Doberman, which always barked fiercely at their gate, all menace and swagger.

But that dog was dashing, super cool.

Du Nuanzhi dropped her game and chips, running out. You Jin wore a black thin-strap dress and silver half-rim glasses, a delicate silver chain dangling from one side. Her big black Doberman, with a silver chain collar and muzzle, barked with fierce dominance.

“Sister You Jin, why’s Little Butterfly so aggressive? Does it bite?”

Upstairs, Du Qingting wasn’t hiding—she pressed against the balcony wall, eavesdropping. Why so aggressive? At first, she thought it was scolding her. Now, she felt… it wanted to kill her!

Below, You Jin said, “Someone’s been slipping stuff into our house. Little Butterfly can’t catch her, so it’s a bit worked up.”

“A thief? Checked the cameras? Called the police?” Du Nuanzhi asked, concerned.

As she spoke, the Doberman barked twice more, lunging forward. You Jin tugged the leash, and it reluctantly circled back, occasionally barking up at the balcony.

Du Qingting still felt it was scolding her.

Like it was saying, “Come out, come out!”

You Jin said, “No, just someone slipping things in. My mom thinks it’s probably intimidation.”

Upstairs, Du Qingting sweated, memories too painful. Recalling herself squatting at their gate, slipping photos, she felt humiliated. She’d wondered how they could tolerate it—now she realized, could they? She was slipping intimate photos of their daughter.

She wiped her forehead, rummaging through her room. Finding a mirror, she angled it to see below.

It worked. Her garden’s Endless Summer hydrangeas were blooming, pink and purple spilling from green leaves. You Jin stood by them with her majestic black dog. She looked up, maybe spotting the mirror. Their eyes met briefly through it.

Du Qingting’s fingers shook, yanking her hand back. It was really You Jin. Why You Jin? Why, after all these years, was it still You Jin who kept stunning her?

Only now did she question why, at first sight, she hadn’t suspected it was You Jin.

She thought her name was “Wang.”

Wang, You.

Du Qingting, you’re blind—a blind dog!

You Jin finished chatting with Du Nuanzhi, who urged her to report it, noting You Jin’s family was richer, with her dad collecting antiques. Lowering her voice, she said, “My sister’s home.”

She pointed upstairs.

You Jin said, “I know. You have fun, I’ll keep walking the dog.”

The Doberman, having found the “culprit,” didn’t want to leave, barking and looking back.

“Woof woof!”

Maybe because she’d been You Jin’s “dog” for seven days, Du Qingting felt she could decode dog-speak. It sounded like: Coward.

Coward?

Damn it.

Waiting until it was quiet below, Du Qingting stormed out from the balcony, wanting to curse to vent. But You Jin, still there, pressed a finger to her lips, shushing her dog.

You Jin hadn’t left and smiled at her.

Du Qingting spun back inside. Damn, damn.

Her heart pounded too hard.

You Jin finally left with the dog, which barked loudly. Far off, You Jin crouched to talk to it, soothingly patting its head. “I know it’s her. You can be fierce, but no cursing, okay? And no biting when we see her.”

The Doberman stood tall, ears perked.

As if saying, I can’t promise that.

“Little Butterfly’s the best. I’ll give you treats,” You Jin cooed, patting its head. “Nod if you understand, for Mommy.”

Adding, “She gave you to me, you know.”

The Doberman nodded.

The weather was nice, not too hot, flowers blooming, the air sweet with their scent.

You Jin walked the dog all morning, returning to instruct Little Butterfly, “Stay alert if you see her, but don’t blow our cover, or it’ll be hard to catch her, got it?”

Doberman: “Woof.”

You Jin smiled, thinking of something.

That evening, Du Qingting didn’t stay holed up. Rare for her, she ate with the family. These past days, she’d been dodging Chen Huiru, only eating leftovers from the maid when hungry.

Now: all that resistance for nothing.

At the table, both stared at her in shock.

Chen Huiru watched her for two minutes. “Your dad’s back the day after tomorrow.”

“For what? Look, You Jin and I are history. Why the rush?” Du Qingting eyed them warily, fearing they knew.

Chen Huiru, silent, stared. Du Qingting’s heart tightened. She took a deep breath. “Give me time, okay? I need time.”

Confused, Chen Huiru said, “Oh, baby, you misunderstood. Your dad’s just back from a business trip—he can’t stay abroad forever.”

“Oh.” Du Qingting calmed, shoving rice in her mouth.

Du Nuanzhi peeked at her, snickering.

Du Qingting glared, eating to ask, “The dog I brought back—did you give it to You Jin?”

“Wasn’t that dog for You Jin?” Chen Huiru said.

Du Qingting was shocked. “You knew?”

Chen Huiru nodded. “When you brought it back, your dad’s business was booming. He bought me haute couture dresses, expensive, tricky to clean…”

“Get to the point.”

“Well, it wasn’t convenient to keep. You Jin often came over, helped train and feed it, and walked it. When I planned to give it away, You Jin chased after it in her car. I didn’t know you’d given it to her. But when she named it Little Butterfly, I figured it was probably yours.”

“Wow,” Du Nuanzhi chimed.

Du Qingting forced herself to finish her meal.

Afterwards, she found an old tablet. With the maid and butler’s help, she logged into WeChat to contact a landlord about moving out tomorrow.
But as she logged in, You Jin’s message came.

You Jin: [I miss you.]
[Check this, darling.]

Below was a recording titled “Your Share.”
Curious, Du Qingting tapped it. Hearing the voice, she frantically poked the screen to stop the syrupy, cloying “sister” calls.

In the recording, You Jin’s deep voice said, “We’ve only been together seven days.”
And her, sugary: “Seven days can be love. Love doesn’t care about time. You won’t lose with me, I’m a homey girlfriend.”

“Sister You Jin, we’re a perfect match. Believe in love. I’ll cook for you, give you homey warmth.”

“We won’t break up. I won’t let you down.”

“Darling~ mm~” She was kissing her.

Damn.

Her toes curled again.

Du Qingting felt she couldn’t stay in this house. Clutching the tablet, she prepared to flee. Looking downstairs, her mom was watching TV. She stuffed the tablet in her bag, slung it on, and planned to climb the wall, as agile as years ago.
After smoothly escaping, she crept out the gate, ready to bolt.

But unlike years ago, a blinding light hit her. Shielding her eyes, she heard a fierce bark. You Jin was behind, her dog barking from the back seat.

Du Qingting instinctively wanted to run.

The car horn blared, then You Jin’s voice: “We need to talk.”

Du Qingting didn’t want to talk, she wanted to die.
You Jin’s car sped up beside her. “Get in, or I’ll be mad.”

Du Qingting gritted her teeth, thinking she should
be the mad one.

But she stood mute, rooted, then glared at the dog pawing the window.

You Jin said, “It doesn’t bite.”

Du Qingting’s eyes darted, landing on her face—that identical face. Irritated and scared, she said, “Can you take off the glasses?”
Sensing her unease, You Jin pursed her lips. “If I take them off, will you feel better?”

You Jin removed her glasses, hair tucked behind her ear, revealing a refined face. Du Qingting looked—part You Jin, part that woman. Memories flooded.

She’d taken off her glasses, pinned her to the bed, passionately entwined, calling, “You Jin, Sister
You Jin… let me sleep beside you, let’s sleep, let me love you, make you feel good… am I kissing well… Do you like me?”

Holy crap, holy crap.

Du Qingting waved her hands, turned away, covering her eyes. “Put them on, quick. I’ll talk, I’ll talk.”

As You Jin put her glasses back on, she softly asked, “Talk about love, right?”