City of Desire

Part 1 - An encounter that's not a romantic encounter

There's a saying that goes: "There are two kinds of unhappy women in this world.

The first kind knows they are beautiful, so they often can't keep a proper mindset. They're always unsatisfied with their desires, so they end up never finding true happiness. The second kind knows they aren't beautiful, so they always lack confidence, and they're unhappy as well."

I can't recall where I heard this, but I always found it rather amusing. If this logic were true, then no women in this world would ever be happy.

I don't know many women, but Luoluo was one of them. She was my first girlfriend, and she witnessed my transformation from an antelope into a lion. But in many ways, I knew her body far more than I knew her mind.

Many times, I knew she felt physical pleasure and happiness. Though she would pant and moan, I knew those were expressions of joy. But my understanding of her stopped there. Her thoughts were a complete blank to me. I often wondered if perhaps she wanted me to understand her, but I simply had no interest. All my interest in her seemed to focus solely on her alluring body.

Unfortunately, physical pleasure never seems to last.

As I gradually lost interest in that beautiful body, I still had no desire to understand her thoughts, so I gave up.

We broke up later.

She was the first woman I truly knew, and my definition of her happiness was limited to how she felt during sex.

In fact, the ironic thing is that I didn't truly grasp the concept of "love" until years after I broke up with Luoluo. And it was Siqi who introduced me to that concept.

It's funny because the reason I began to understand "love" through her is that I didn't love her. Even though I still didn't fully understand what love was, I was stubbornly convinced that I didn't love Siqi.

So, for Luoluo, my first woman, my understanding of her was physical.

And for Siqi, it was because of her that I began to grasp the concept of love, only to realize that I didn't love her at all.

I think this was a joke God played on me.

I don't know which category Siqi falls into. I also don't know which kind of happiness she belongs to by the earlier standard.

In terms of looks, she's at best a delicate and pretty girl-next-door type—one of those "big boobs, no brain" types, silly and carefree. I initially got involved with her because I stumbled into her trap.

But I know that my buddy, Fatty, really likes her. The evidence? One time, after getting drunk, Fatty seriously told me, "She's a good woman. Treat her well! If you don't really like her, let me have her."

Fatty is one of the few real friends I have. I'm not someone who would risk everything for a friend, but I'm also not the type to betray a friend over a woman. So after sobering up, I never brought this up with Fatty again.

But I knew I had to break up with Siqi! The reason is simple: I don't love her.

In my usual line of thinking, I've always regarded "love" as something sacred. And I've always stubbornly believed that anything sacred should be born under grand, serious, and legendary circumstances. Like the arrival of Jesus or the visit of Halley's Comet. Even Stephen Chow in Royal Tramp said that supreme martial arts always take a hundred or so years to master.

By that logic, how could my meeting Siqi in a shabby little hotpot restaurant be connected with something as grand as "love"?

I know that Siqi loves me deeply, so I believe that in this relationship, she found love. But I didn't! It feels unfair.

I feel like I got the short end of the stick!

After downing a dozen beers, I found myself in a friend's bar sharing these thoughts with a random girl next to me. My face was flushed, and my eyes were red as I stared at her. I can't remember when she sat beside me, or maybe I sat next to her. She looked at me with great interest, then grinned and asked, "Is this how you usually pick up girls?"

I squinted at her, "Do you think I'm hitting on you?"

She smiled subtly without denying it, which annoyed me. I admit she was pretty, but I didn't want her to feel so smug.

With red eyes, I sternly told her, "I'm talking about something serious—I'm breaking up with my girlfriend!"

"What then?" she blinked and asked. Surprisingly, her tone was very calm, as if what I was saying was the most ordinary thing in the world.

I took a sip of beer and put on a righteous expression, looking as if I were about to go on a heroic mission: "I'll go find true love!"—I emphasized the words "true love" in a solemn and sacred tone.

"And what if you don't find it?" she blinked again.

A sudden panic hit me.

That's right, how could something as sacred as love be so easily found? After all, I'm just an ordinary guy, and I've always had bad luck. How could such a miracle happen to me?

"Keep looking. I'll find it eventually." I slowed my speech, trying to mask my insecurity with a low tone.

"And what happens after you find it?" she continued pressing, with a strange smile in her eyes.

I lost my patience and snapped, "What, do you work for 10,000 Whys?"

She laughed, "I just think you're interesting. Plenty of guys have hit on me, but I've never seen someone like you."

I stared at her for a while. She pulled out a hair tie and tied up her hair. Under the lights, the lines of her face were soft and smooth.

Maybe it was all the alcohol, but I was convinced I was talking about something very serious—yes, love, something sacred! Yet she thought I was flirting with her! I was a bit dazed and said desperately, "Miss, I'm really not hitting on you!"

She tilted her head and said, "Don't get cocky! I'm in a bad mood today, so I'm doing you a favor. Treat me to some late-night snacks?"

"Would you say no if it were you?" Three days later, on a sunny afternoon, I asked Fatty, "A tall, long-legged, beautiful girl, not a hooker, a decent woman, invites you to eat after a few rounds of drinks. Would you refuse?"

Fatty shook his head immediately, "I'd go even if I broke my leg! Unless you're not a man."

I looked at him and sighed, "I am a man."

Apart from being surprised by her height (I'm about 185cm, and she's over 175cm by my estimate), I didn't even flinch when I saw her Benz in the parking lot.

I sat in the passenger seat, closed my eyes, and told her, "Let me know when we get there."