Sweet as Honey and Sugar - CHAPTER 1:
June 2015, Saturday.
That evening, a sudden downpour hit the city. The sky was heavy with clouds, and the whole of South City was shrouded in a misty veil of rain. White elms swayed along the roadside, their green leaves washed clean of dust by the storm.
Because of the rain, there were few pedestrians on the streets, and even fewer cars.
A kilometer ahead lay the bustling commercial district, high-rises, intersecting streets, bright lights. When the rain finally stopped past nine, the quiet gloom gave way to energy and chatter, crowds spilling into the streets once again.
East of the district was a street lined with bars, the kind that never slept filled with laughter, noise, and blurred silhouettes under the lights. As night deepened, it became a paradise for indulgence, where men and women, drunk or sober, danced and reveled without restraint.
At the end of that street, inside a suite of a luxury hotel, two figures were tangled together.
The dim yellow light softened the air, turning everything hazy and intimate. Like sparks falling into dry grass, the heat between them ignited quickly, burning hotter and faster until there was no stopping it.
He Qingrou hadn’t expected her night to turn out this way. She had only come out to have a drink with friends, yet somehow she met someone who matched her perfectly. It was her first time doing something like this she’d hesitated at first, unsure but now, all those thoughts had completely melted away.
For twenty-eight years, He Qingrou had always been conservative and reserved. She was careful in everything she did her studies, her work, even her love life. Her only relationship had been back in college, when society was far less open than it is now. Two girls in love back then could only sneak around, terrified of being discovered.
They’d been so innocent then just a kiss could make them blush for half a day, too shy to explore anything more.
At the bar earlier, several people had tried to hit on her, but she had politely turned them all down. Only this one woman felt… different.
The woman was slightly taller, with long legs and perfect proportions. She wore a deep teal V-neck dress that revealed just enough to stir the imagination, elegant yet sensual. Her face carried a touch of androgynous charm: sharp eyes, high nose bridge, deep-set features that lent her an air of aloof restraint.
She had bought He Qingrou a drink, her intentions clear from the start.
He Qingrou accepted. One thing led to another a soft embrace, a kiss that deepened naturally. What began as a hesitant touch turned into an entanglement of tongues, warmth spreading between them in the dim corner of the bar.
Perhaps it was because everyone there was like them that she felt bold enough to respond in kind.
Her companion, though assertive, never crossed the line. She wrapped an arm around He Qingrou’s slender waist but made no excessive moves confident, yet composed.
When she kissed her, it was both possessive and tender.
Judging by her looks, she seemed younger than He Qingrou, but her experience was unmistakable.
“Do you want to go to a hotel?” she had whispered in her ear.
Her breath brushed softly against the skin behind He Qingrou’s ear, warm and ticklish. He Qingrou hesitated, her face hidden against the woman’s neck. She had always known she preferred women, but she had never actually been with one.
Perhaps it was the alcohol, or something else entirely, but she found herself nodding.
“Alright.”
They drove to a hotel nearby, and even before getting out of the car, they were kissing again, unbothered by the curious glances of passersby.
And now, here they were.
After a night of indulgence, He Qingrou was so exhausted she could barely lift her hand. She slept heavily until morning, only half-conscious when the woman coaxed her into another round gentle yet consuming, as if she were being devoured whole.
When it was finally over, He Qingrou fell back into deep sleep. She never noticed the woman leave.
It was past eleven when she woke. Still groggy, she sat up from the messy sheets and hurriedly slipped into her dress—just as room service arrived with breakfast.
The room had been booked under the woman’s name; He Qingrou hadn’t even ordered food yet.
“Good morning, Miss He,” the attendant said with a polite smile. This breakfast was ordered for you by Miss Lin. Enjoy your meal.
“Thank you,” she murmured, bowing her head, too embarrassed to meet the man’s eyes.
The crumpled sheets, the tissues in the trash all faint reminders of last night’s recklessness.
“If you need anything else, please don’t hesitate to call the front desk.” The attendant, tactful enough not to linger, quietly closed the door behind him.
Her legs ached; her body felt boneless and weak. The faint heat from the night before still lingered on her skin, refusing to fade, and the thought made her blush all over again.
Check out was before one in the afternoon, so she decided to shower first.
Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, her reflection was marked by faint bruises and scattered kiss marks along her collarbone and chest each one glaring against her fair skin.
That woman…
She’d asked her not to leave any marks, yet there they were.
Luckily, they weren’t in obvious places.
After showering and drying her hair, He Qingrou checked her phone. Her best friend, Chi Jiayi, had sent several WeChat messages earlier:
Jiayi: “Up yet?”
Jiayi: “Boss said you left with some rich beauty last night. Did you ride the wave of passion till morning? ;)”
Jiayi: “Still not awake? Must’ve been a wild night.
Jiayi: “I’m jealous!”
He Qingrou’s face flushed instantly, her ears burning red.
She quickly changed the subject:
He Qingrou: What about you? How did things go with Chen Mingxing?”
The bar they’d gone to was a quiet, high-end lesbian bar tasteful, not rowdy. Chen Mingxing was Jiayi’s long-time crush, freshly back from Shanghai. Jiayi had organized the night out just to welcome her home.
Soon, the “typing…” bubble appeared.
Jiayi: “Terrible!”
Jiayi: “I took her home, and guess what we watched Animal Planet all night!”
Jiayi: “Didn’t even hold hands!”
Jiayi: “By 3 or 4 AM, I thought I’d achieve spiritual enlightenment instead of romance. Then we just passed out on the couch. Nearly froze to death in the morning.”
Jiayi: “Made her breakfast at seven and just dropped her off.”
He Qingrou frowned and typed quickly:
He Qingrou: “Get some sleep when you’re home.”
Jiayi: “Okay, but dinner’s on me tonight! I need the details.
Her face flamed again. Even through a screen, she could feel the embarrassment creeping up her neck. She deleted her first few replies and finally sent:
He Qingrou: “Just go home and rest.”
She set her phone aside, refusing to give Jiayi more fuel.
After tidying up and gathering her things, she picked up her handbag only to find a white card tucked beneath it.
Lin Nai, it read, written neatly in black ink. Below was a phone number, the handwriting elegant yet firm.
He Qingrou hesitated for a moment, then set the card back on the table.
The hotel was far from her apartment. Too tired to bother with the bus, she hailed a taxi.
It was a forty-minute drive across the city, and she drifted in and out of sleep along the way. When they arrived, she thanked the driver softly and made her way toward her building.
Rents in South City’s new districts were absurdly high, so earlier that year she had moved to an older part of town an aging but peaceful community, with trees and ivy everywhere.
Her two-bedroom apartment costs 2,500 a month still manageable.
She lived on the eighth floor. Her neighbors across the hall, a middle aged couple, greeted her warmly when she arrived.
As she reached her door, she pulled out her keys just as her phone rang. It was the office.
A trembling voice came through, almost on the verge of tears:
Sister He, the design draft has a problem.