Substitute Girlfriend Contract (GL) - Chapter 21

Walking down the street, Tao Anyu suddenly remembered the fridge at home was almost empty. There was a Walmart nearby, so she decided to stop in and pick up some groceries. She called Aunt Liu on the way, telling her not to bother buying vegetables—she’d bring some back herself.

The Walmart was in a commercial plaza, and behind it ran a nightlife street lined with bars. As she stepped out with her groceries, she heard someone calling her name. Turning, she saw a woman coming out of one of the bars.

Tao Anyu frowned. The woman was dressed in a way that screamed androgynous swagger.

The woman came closer, squinting at her face. She let out a boozy burp and said,
“I know you. I’ve got a friend—last time in City A, Province F—you were with her, weren’t you?”

“You’ve got the wrong person,” Tao Anyu said, turning away with her bag.

The woman clearly had no intention of letting her go. She grabbed Tao Anyu’s shoulder.
“Hey, don’t walk away.” She leaned in and brushed her hand over Tao Anyu’s face, her voice dripping with innuendo.
“Weren’t you the one having such a good time at the bar back then? As long as someone paid, you’d go home with them. What—business dried up in City A, so you came to City S instead?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Tao Anyu said, pushing her away. “Miss, please have some self-respect.”

“Miss?” The woman chuckled. “Oh, come on. I can tell you’re my type. Didn’t you sleep with my friend in City A? I’m telling you—my skills are better than hers. You’d love it.”

Tao Anyu thought to herself: I have someone at home with even better skills. She said sharply, “If you keep this up, I won’t be polite.”

The woman wrapped her arms around her to stop her from leaving.
“What’s wrong with keeping me company for a bit? Trust me, you won’t regret it.”

Now Tao Anyu was truly angry. She kicked the woman hard. The drunk collapsed onto the pavement and couldn’t get up. Tao Anyu threw an insult her way, picked up her groceries, and left.

Bad luck.

Had she offended some god lately? Was the household shrine knocked over? Why else had so much nonsense been happening lately?

City S and City A were so far apart—how did she keep running into people connected to both places who also happened to know her?

First Zhuo Shaqi, and now this drunken woman…

One thing the drunk got right, though—Tao Anyu’s past had been a mess. She’d spent more time in nightclubs than at home, slept with countless women, and if money was offered, she would end up in someone else’s bed.

It sounded cheap, shameful, and disgusting; she agreed with that assessment as well.

But back then, she’d even considered ending her life. Why would she have cared about dignity?

Don’t mock her. When a woman has tried every possible way to melt someone’s heart—knowing she’s being used, knowing the woman she loves swears she loves her while secretly promising marriage to another man—and still speaks gently, still solves her problems, still repeats, “It’s fine, your happiness is my greatest happiness”… she gets tired.

Occasionally she’d wonder if any of it made sense. Was she truly that cheap, born with a heart wired for degradation?

She would smile and shake her head. Probably not.

She was cowardly, weak… And yet, despite all that, she clung with ridiculous stubbornness.

Childish. Absurd.

Irrational.

No one is born loving self-torment. No one is born happy to watch others live well while being trampled underfoot. There is no such thing as perfect selflessness; what matters is the amount of selflessness you can endure without breaking.

Some people can’t bear any of it—like Lu Mengxiao. Others can bear far too much—like Tao Anyu.

******

Once, a stone-butch woman—who normally wouldn’t let any woman touch her—slept with Tao Anyu. Lying in bed afterward, smoking, she said, “Honestly, I don’t think I’m gay. I think I have **gender dysphoria.” (Gender dysphoria is a psychiatric diagnosis characterized by significant psychological distress stemming from a mismatch between a person’s assigned s3x at birth and their gender identity.)

Tao Anyu smiled faintly.

The woman went on, “I feel like I’m a man deep down. I take testosterone every day. Maybe one day I’ll get gender reassignment surgery.”

Tao Anyu said, “Good. As long as you’re happy.”

The butch held the cigarette to Tao Anyu’s lips. She leaned forward and took a deep drag.

“We don’t know each other well,” the woman said, “but we’ve slept together a few times. Call it half-acquainted.”

Tao Anyu exhaled the smoke.

The woman ruffled her hair. “I’m leaving for work in another city tomorrow. This is our last time. Since we have been intimate companions for a while, I’ll share something honest with you,” she smirked.

Tao Anyu pointed the cigarette at her. “Go ahead.”

“You act like nothing matters, drifting along. But inside, your desires are bottomless.” She glanced at Tao Anyu’s naked body. “I can tell just by sleeping with you.”

“Ha. Maybe.” Tao Anyu smiled, handing the cigarette back. “Everyone’s desires run deep—it’s only a question of whether you want to indulge them.”

“Sometimes,” the woman said, “life won’t give you the luxury of deciding.” She paused, and when Tao Anyu was at the door, added, “You’re still young. Think more about yourself.”

Leaning against the doorframe, Tao Anyu’s gaze softened. “Thanks. But for me, so many things are just habits. Wanting or not wanting doesn’t matter.”

Just habit.

Nothing more.

Nearly ten years had passed. Did she still love Zhuo Shaqi? Maybe. Maybe not. But she remembered, “I must love Zhuo Shaqi”—as naturally as breathing or eating. It wasn’t about depth of feeling; it was just habit.

She’d endured Zhuo Shaqi’s lies and betrayals again and again—was it because she loved her so much? Was it because she enjoyed the masochistic thrill of hurting herself? Maybe. Or maybe not. She remembered, “I love Zhuo Shaqi. Whatever she does, I won’t hate her.” That, too, was a habit.

Later, when Zhuo Shaqi could no longer satisfy her physically, and she ended up in other women’s beds, she asked herself, “Do I love her? If I really loved her that much, why am I here with someone else?

She didn’t know.

She told herself: I wanted to, so I did.

Maybe she had loved her deeply once. But feelings are always two-way. A one-way love story has no ending—only the fate of being cut off midstream.

And for Tao Anyu, a writer, nothing was more loathsome than a story that ended half-finished.

Tao Anyu was disgusted to her core by her feelings toward Zhuo Shaqi, her feelings toward herself, and the hollow, ridiculous game that had long since turned into a cold, eunuch-like emptiness.

That’s why she was done and wanted to start over.

Don’t accuse her of cruelly abandoning her parents—because she had none.

Her “mother”? Not exactly. The woman who raised her had once been a human trafficker. “Ai Yunjing” was the name the trafficker gave her. Later, when the trafficker fell ill, she used her as her last “commodity” and decided to keep her around as a servant.

Yet even that twisted upbringing carried the weight of having been raised. Tao Anyu truly regarded the trafficker as her mother and treated her well. To this day, she still can’t let go, and every month she anonymously transfers a large sum into her mother’s bank account.

She knows money can’t replace family, but who dares claim money isn’t important?

“I want to live my own life now,” Tao Anyu said.

She smiled.

There was one thing she still hadn’t told Lu Mengxiao.

The first time they slept together, Lu Mengxiao asked if she was a virgin. She said yes. It was a lie.

Tao Anyu had undergone hymen reconstruction surgery.

She thought she could keep that secret for a while longer. But a few days later, when she saw that same drunk woman loitering near the gates of the villa community—the one who had cornered her outside the bar—she realized some things were going to catch up to her much sooner than she’d imagined…