‘Zhinu, for once in your life will you just grow up—’
‘Oh my God! Shopping Girl Number Two? It couldn’t be!’ The deep voice belonged to neither Bingwen, Zhinu or her mother.
The three guests turned to see a man walking towards the front desk from a side door in the lobby, the door swinging behind him. Blood rushed to Zhinu’s face, pinking her cheeks. He was tall and was wearing a green flannel shirt, with sleeves rolled up to reveal sinewy forearms, thrown over a white tank top that was a little smudged with dirt. It fit close enough to his shape for Zhinu’s eyes to linger for longer than was appropriate. His half smile revealed a dimple in his right cheek that seemed deep enough to trip and fall into. His face was high angles and steep edges softened by a pillowy mouth. He situated himself behind the desk and looked directly at her. The look threatened to ruin her entire life as she knew it.
‘If I knew Shopping Girl Number Two was here, I would have dressed more formally.’ His smile widened and Zhinu’s skin prickled. She nodded.
‘Thank you. I appreciate that. I worked on that hair swish for three months. Do you know how many times strands got stuck in my lipgloss? I also had to get the frustrated scratching just right.’
The guy’s head tilted slightly, as if taking her in differently, his dark eyes flashing across her crystal dress. ‘Dedication to your craft. I respect that.’
The air in the lobby became still and voltaic and Zhinu suddenly became very aware of every inch of herself. Her mother cleared her throat.
The guy tore his gaze from Zhinu and smiled at her mother. ‘Welcome to The Magpie Lodge. I am the owner, Zhou Niulang, and you must be our booking for the family deluxe suite. I’ll just draw up your information and your keys will be with you right away.’
Niulang tapped at the computer beside him as Bingwen stepped away from the desk and whispered ‘Keys?’ He rubbed his forehead. ‘I’m freaking out. We don’t even have electronic locks. God help us.’
Zhinu smiled. ‘Nobody wants to steal your raggedy V-necks, Bingwen.’
Zhinu’s mother rolled her eyes. ‘Kids, I am exhausted. Not this again. And, Zhinu, the gall of you to attack Bingwen’s style when you were just making gooey eyes at a man dressed like a farmer.’
Bingwen cackled and Zhinu wanted to die.
‘Hardly a farmer, madam.’ Niulang’s voice piped up. ‘I only own one cow. Taurus. Which is why I’m dressed the way I’m dressed; I was milking her, and she prefers me casual. Sweet girl. A little moody sometimes . . .’
Zhinu choked on air and her mother glared.
‘ . . . I wasn’t expecting guests this late. Apologies. Room 7.’ He handed the keys to Zhinu and shot her a tiny, incubated and almost imperceptible smile that was clearly just for her.
Zhinu’s mother released a strong and hefty ‘Hmm’， before she nodded twice and gestured at Niulang to pick up their bags. ‘It’s late. The quicker I sleep, the quicker this nightmare will be over.’
Zhinu’s heart dropped at the thought of the night being over. Her body revolted against the idea. She hoped it would never end.
Zhinu’s first kiss had been with a boy from her dance school. She was fourteen and it had been sloppy. He told everyone he’d felt her right breast the next day. Zhinu had always found the specificity of his lie fascinating. Why only the one breast? Why the right one in particular? At the time, it was the bigger one, though, so objectively it was an intelligent choice. Perhaps he found a dual breast squeeze too unrealistic. Either way, somehow it got back to her mother. She, of course, was livid. ‘Only when you’re eighteen and it must be someone who is rich. You can’t afford distraction for anything less.’
This rich man hadn’t magically shown up when she was eighteen. Zhinu’s mother had moulded Zhinu’s life so everything was focused on her ascent to stardom, so there was no time for anything else. Now, she was twenty-three and the only person she’d ever shared a bed with was her mother. She was still sharing a bed with her mother. Zhinu shifted so her mother’s elbow removed itself from her back. Bingwen snored from his single bed in the corner of the room. Since there was obviously no mini bar, both of them had gone to the small bar in the inn and attempted to buy a bottle from Niulang. He’d given it to them for free. The two of them had had three shots of whiskey and an Ambien each and were knocked out pretty quickly, thankfully. Zhinu, meanwhile, was wide awake.
It was a warm night, and even in the crop top and cycling shorts Zhinu had procured from her overnight bag, Zhinu felt suffocated. The window was open but the stuffiness only became more oppressive with every second that passed. Bingwen snorted. Zhinu’s mother stirred, sighed and then whacked Zhinu in the face. Zhinu removed her mother’s hand and climbed out of bed. She slipped on a hoodie for decency’s sake, put on her sneakers and slipped out of the room in search of something she couldn’t identify yet.