Chapter 54 p1
“Unseen Spring,” Scene 315, Take 1, Action!
The late afternoon sun filtered through the frosted glass, casting a warm, soft glow across the room, like the juice of a peeled orange, spilling onto the floor.
Xin Yao stood at the entrance of a traditional attic, dressed in an elegant, early Republican-era dress, her hair neatly pinned up with a jade hairpin.
Her eyes, lowered, her long eyelashes casting shadows on her cheeks, gave her a demure, gentle appearance.
As the clapperboard snapped, she lifted her head, transforming into Lu Duanjing.
Since that day…
Since their hands had met in the alley outside the orphanage, neither Lu Duanjing nor Wen Sigu had mentioned it, neither had explicitly acknowledged the shift in their relationship.
But their feelings, unspoken yet undeniable, had bound them together.
And in the days that followed, their love had grown stronger, their every moment together a precious treasure.
They would steal moments of intimacy, their hands brushing against each other, their gazes lingering, until one day, Wen Sigu, finding her courage, had asked for a kiss.
And that kiss had sealed their fate, a silent promise of forever.
Lost in the sweetness of their newfound love, Lu Duanjing hadn’t forgotten her responsibilities. She continued her lessons with Wen Sigu, then taught her mother, her cousin, and the servants who were eager to learn.
The orphanage was also thriving, the two women caring for the children with a gentle devotion, her cousin teaching them how to read and write.
Speaking of her cousin…
Just as Lu Duanjing had predicted, her cousin, a woman whose life had been defined by duty and obedience, had been terrified by Lu Duanjing’s request to teach at the orphanage.
She had waved her hands frantically, her voice filled with protest.
“Me? I can’t do that! I’m a woman! How can I be a teacher?!”
Lu Duanjing, however, had disagreed. “Cousin, that’s not right. Everyone is equal. Why can’t women be teachers?”
She had pretended to leave, turning towards the door.
“If you’re not interested, I’ll find someone else. And it’s a paid position!”
She had taken only a few steps when her cousin’s voice, filled with a sudden urgency, stopped her.
“Wait!”
Lu Duanjing, a small smile playing on her lips, turned around.
Her cousin’s face was a mixture of anxiety and determination. After a long moment of hesitation, she had finally nodded, her voice firm. “I’ll do it!”
Lu Duanjing’s smile widened. “Then I’ll leave it to you, Teacher Zheng Qiu Yan.”
Teacher Zheng Qiu Yan.
The words had echoed in her cousin’s mind, a sudden, unexpected shift in her identity, her usual self-doubt replaced by a flicker of hope.
“Teacher Zheng Qiu Yan… Teacher Zheng Qiu Yan…” she had murmured, the words a mantra, a promise of a different future.
That night, sitting on her bed, her mind still reeling from the unexpected opportunity, she had looked at her small desk in the corner of the room.
The worn-out brush, the old newspapers covered in her practice strokes, the textbook Lu Duanjing had lent her, its pages carefully preserved, a testament to her newfound passion for learning.
A tear had rolled down her cheek, followed by a torrent of tears, her sobs echoing through the small, dimly lit room.
Then, wiping her eyes, she had walked over to her desk and, by the flickering candlelight, had resumed her practice, her hand moving slowly, deliberately, across the page.
So, even someone like her could learn.
Even someone like her could become a teacher.
Even someone like her wasn’t just someone’s daughter, someone’s wife, someone’s mother.
She could be more.
Even her husband didn’t know as many characters as she did now.
And soon, she would be earning her own money, her knowledge a source of income, her independence a newfound freedom.
She was no longer just a nameless, faceless wife, her life defined by her duties to her family.
In that ordinary night, at her small desk, Zheng Qiu Yan had begun to live for herself.
And so, she had become a dedicated teacher, her days spent at the orphanage, her passion for learning inspiring the children.
Lu’s mother, hearing about her cousin’s transformation, had been envious. Her cousin was always busy now, rarely visiting her.
Seeing her mother’s wistful expression, Lu Duanjing had suggested, “Mother, you could also teach others. Like the women in our courtyard who are learning from me.”
Her mother, like her cousin, had initially resisted, her self-doubt overwhelming.
“Me? I can’t do that! I’m not even good at it myself! How can I teach others?”
Lu Duanjing had taken her mother’s hand, her gaze earnest.
“Why not? If Cousin can do it, so can you. It’s just the first step that’s difficult. You have to believe in yourself.”
Her words had resonated with her mother, who, after a moment’s hesitation, had said, “Maybe… I’ll try.”
Lu Duanjing had smiled. “Yes! Let’s try!”
And just like her cousin, her mother’s initial hesitation had quickly turned into a passion for learning.
Now, her favorite time of day was the evening, just before bedtime, when the women in the courtyard would gather in her room, their faces illuminated by the soft candlelight, their voices a quiet murmur as they practiced their writing.
During the day, she would think about what to teach them, practicing her own writing, her days no longer filled with idle boredom, her gaze no longer fixed on the falling rain or the empty courtyard, waiting for a husband who never came.
The once-withering woman had come alive, her spirit renewed, her health even improving.
She was happy.
Truly happy.
Of course, their little gatherings had to be kept secret from Lu’s father.
He would be furious, burning their books, believing they were rebelling against him.
But their lives were improving, slowly but surely.
And then winter arrived.
Wen Sigu’s birthday was in early winter.
The Wen family, while not as wealthy as the Lu family, was still well-off, and they doted on their youngest daughter.
So, a birthday party was planned, a grand celebration with family and friends.
The Lu family would be attending, of course, but during such a large gathering, Lu Duanjing and Wen Sigu wouldn’t have much time alone.
They were deeply in love, and it was Wen Sigu’s birthday. They couldn’t bear the thought of being separated.
So, that afternoon, Wen Sigu had invited Lu Duanjing to her rented apartment, for a private celebration.
That was the scene Xin Yao was filming now, standing at the entrance of the attic.
When Lu Duanjing entered the room, Wen Sigu had been waiting for her.
Wen Sigu had moved out of her family home long ago, claiming it was more convenient for her work, but her true motive had been to be closer to Lu Duanjing.
And surprisingly, her apartment wasn’t large, its layout simple and compact.
The dining area and the bedroom were separated by a simple partition, not even a door, and the bathroom and kitchen were also small, their glass doors almost invisible.
After all, Wen Sigu had donated most of her money to her school, paying her teachers’ salaries and supporting her students.
She lived frugally, her own needs secondary to her passion for education.
But in anticipation of Lu Duanjing’s arrival, she had lit a fire in the fireplace, the warmth chasing away the winter chill, making the room almost too warm.
Seeing Lu Duanjing’s gaze scanning the apartment, Wen Sigu felt a twinge of embarrassment.
“It’s a bit small, I hope you don’t mind.”
Lu Duanjing looked around the small but cozy apartment, its every corner filled with Wen Sigu’s belongings: her clothes hanging on a rack, the neatly made bed, the medical textbooks on the table, each object a testament to her life, her presence.
Lu Duanjing, who had spent her entire life in the sprawling Lu residence, its endless corridors and vast rooms sometimes overwhelming, found comfort in the small, intimate space, her eyes softening.
“Not at all. I like it here.”
“That’s good,” Wen Sigu, relieved, took Lu Duanjing’s hand. “Come.”
She led Lu Duanjing to the dining table, where a small, beautifully wrapped gift box lay waiting.
It was wrapped in a plain white paper, tied with a white ribbon, its simplicity elegant.
“It’s a new design,” Wen Sigu said, handing her the box. “Would you like to try it on?”
“But it’s your birthday,” Lu Duanjing said, surprised. “Why are you giving me a gift?”
Wen Sigu smiled gently. “I saw it and thought it would be perfect for you. I couldn’t resist. It’s not exactly season-appropriate, but you can wear it next year, in spring…”
“I’ll try it on now,” Lu Duanjing interrupted her, taking the box, unable to refuse such a thoughtful gift.
But after changing, she hesitated, lingering in the bathroom for a long time before finally emerging.
Wen Sigu, hearing the door open, turned around, her eyes widening in surprise.
Lu Duanjing, bathed in the soft afternoon light, walked towards her.
She was wearing a long, white cheongsam, its silk fabric shimmering as she moved, like moonlight on water.
The delicate embroidery of white flowers and birds added a touch of elegance, the dress perfectly complementing her gentle demeanor.
But unlike her usual loose, flowing garments, this dress was surprisingly form-fitting.
Its high collar, asymmetrical closure, and cinched waist accentuated her slender figure, the fabric clinging to her body, revealing her curves, her long, slender neck, her delicate arms, her narrow waist, the high slits at the sides revealing glimpses of her smooth, white legs.
It was a breathtakingly beautiful, yet also daringly revealing, sight.
Lu Duanjing, slightly flustered by the dress’s unexpected sensuality, clutched the fabric at her chest, her gaze lowered, her cheeks burning despite the cool winter air.
Xu Jingyu, also seeing Xin Yao in a cheongsam for the first time, her eyes widening in surprise, her gaze lingering on her delicate figure, her shy demeanor only adding to her allure.
Remembering that they were filming, she quickly composed herself, getting into character.
Wen Sigu walked towards Lu Duanjing, her voice filled with genuine admiration.
“Duanjing, you look beautiful.”
Her words reassured Lu Duanjing slightly, but she was still nervous.
“Really? Isn’t it a bit too… revealing? How can I wear this outside?”
“Why not?” Wen Sigu chuckled. “It’s called a cheongsam. It’s become quite popular recently. Many women are wearing them.”
“I don’t think it’s revealing. It’s just… a different kind of beauty. A celebration of the female form. And there’s nothing wrong with being bold.”
“Freedom?” Lu Duanjing, her initial nervousness replaced by curiosity, repeated the word.
How could a dress be associated with freedom?
“Recently,” Wen Sigu shook her head, “my father told me that the government is considering a new law, forbidding women from showing any skin in public. Even bare arms would be considered indecent.”
“What?!” Lu Duanjing was incredulous. “That’s absurd!”
Wen Sigu sighed. “It is. It’s as if we’re moving backwards, back into cages. We should have the right to choose what we wear, how we express ourselves. We shouldn’t be constrained by such ridiculous rules.”
“So,” she looked at Lu Duanjing, her gaze soft, “don’t be ashamed of your beauty. Wear it for me again, next spring, when the weather is warmer. Okay?”
Lu Duanjing looked at her, her heart filled with gratitude. She always learned so much from Wen Sigu.
Instead of answering, she stood on tiptoe and kissed Wen Sigu softly on the lips.
The unexpected touch, soft and warm, made Wen Sigu pause, her eyes flickering with surprise as she looked at Lu Duanjing.
Her voice, slightly strained, was a polite inquiry.
“Duanjing, may I kiss you?”
Lu Duanjing, her arms wrapping around Wen Sigu’s neck, her gaze soft and inviting, replied, “You don’t have to ask.”
Wen Sigu’s lips found hers.
Initially, her kiss was gentle and restrained, almost polite, as if respecting Lu Duanjing’s shyness.
But as the kiss deepened, her passion ignited, her touch becoming more demanding, more possessive.
And today, she had lost control.
Xin Yao, dressed in the elegant white cheongsam, her hair neatly styled, was pressed against the wall, Xu Jingyu’s body a warm, heavy weight against hers, her lips claiming Xin Yao’s in a fierce, hungry kiss, her hand gripping Xin Yao’s waist, her touch like a brand.
The kiss deepened, their tongues tangling, stealing Xin Yao’s breath away.
Xin Yao, her head tilted back against the wall, her eyes shimmering with tears, couldn’t push Xu Jingyu away, reminding herself that they were filming.
Was this how the gentle and reserved Wen Sigu would kiss someone?
Fortunately, the director also thought it was too much.
“Cut!”
Xin Yao breathed a sigh of relief.
But Xu Jingyu, despite having clearly heard the director’s call, refused to let go, stealing another kiss, her tongue tracing Xin Yao’s lips, a teasing caress that sent shivers down her spine.
Xin Yao, unable to help herself, let out a soft moan, her fingers clutching Xu Jingyu’s shirt.
Then, they finally parted, their breaths mingling.
Xin Yao, her eyes shimmering with tears, her lipstick smudged, her appearance slightly disheveled, looked at Xu Jingyu, her voice a husky whisper.
“Are you crazy? Why so rough?”
Xu Jingyu, her chest still heaving, her gaze intense, leaned closer, her forehead almost touching Xin Yao’s.
“You look beautiful in that dress,” she murmured, her voice slightly hoarse.
That’s why she had lost control, just from looking at her.
She reached out, her thumb gently wiping away the smudged lipstick from Xin Yao’s lips.
Feng Lu, the assistant director, watching from the corner of her eye, almost fainted from the sheer romantic overload.
It was like watching a couple in love, their tenderness a silent language.
They weren’t just colleagues. No mere coworker would wipe away another’s lipstick after a kissing scene.
It was too intimate! They were practically screaming their love from the rooftops!
And Ms. Xu was definitely the dominant one, her gaze possessive, her touch demanding.
Could Ms. Xin even handle her?
The assistant director’s face flushed.
This was getting interesting.
Meanwhile, Xu Jingyu’s passionate kiss had necessitated a touch-up for Xin Yao’s makeup, giving them both a chance to calm down before filming resumed.
This time, Xu Jingyu restrained herself, her initial kiss gentle and tender, as the director had instructed.
But as the scene progressed, her passion reignited, her kiss deepening, her embrace tightening, pushing Xin Yao against the wall.
Xin Yao’s head tilted back, her eyes fluttering closed, her fingers unconsciously wrinkling Xu Jingyu’s shirt.
Xu Jingyu captured her hand, her fingers intertwining with Xin Yao’s, her touch both possessive and comforting.
After a long while, the kiss ended.
Xin Yao, breathless, her back against the wall, looked up at Xu Jingyu, her voice slightly husky.
“Ms. Xu, wasn’t that a bit too much? Would Wen Sigu really kiss someone like that?”
But since the director hadn’t objected, it must have been fine.
Xu Jingyu’s eyes, still dark with desire, softened as she looked at Xin Yao, her voice a soft murmur.
“Yes, she would. Love is both restraint and possession.”
Because love was both restraint and possession.
So, in that moment, their passion ignited by the kiss, Wen Sigu and Lu Duanjing had both wanted more, their desire for each other a powerful, undeniable force.
In their time, their love was forbidden, a secret they had to keep hidden. They both knew the risks.
So, before their hands had met, they had already fallen deeply in love, their hearts a silent battlefield, their minds wrestling with their forbidden desires.
Do I love her? Can I love her? Do I have the courage to love her?
And only after finding their answers, after acknowledging their love and accepting the risks, had they taken that first step.
Their hand-holding had been more than just a physical connection. It had been a declaration of their love, their courage, their defiance.
And now, in this kiss, their emotions, long suppressed, finally erupted.
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