Waiting for you on the left side of the next life

Author: Xi Lingxue
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2006-09-01
Features: I changed color slightly: "You mean this gift is compensation for that slap from your wife? If so, I'll take it without hesitation. Otherwise, it would be a real injustice." Saying so, I put away the jewelry box and turned to leave. As I was about to exit, I couldn't help but add a gentle remark over my shoulder, "Thank you." Well, let him learn what it means to fail to get what you want and lose even more. To get what you want? I smiled bitterly. How many times has it been since the office building became the Grand View Garden, and all those so-called white-collar ladies have become the "Twelve Beauties of Jinling in the Minor Register," with no chance of being born into a gentle and prosperous family to be the "Yuan, Ying, Tan, Xi," but instead squeezed into a flourishing flower and willow district to be the "Qing, Xi, Yu, Zi." Although they are no inferior in talent and appearance, every step forward requires several times the hardship and cost of the main register characters. Even so, most end up in decline, unable to preserve their innocence but unable to maintain their reputation. Who says office ladies aren't weathered by storms? They are truly precious and aloof—unless they go home to be young mistresses and spend their lives in an ivory tower, admiring and serving flowers and birds without involving themselves in worldly matters. Otherwise, when they come out to work, they can't help but show off, scheme, curry favor, deceive, and offer a smiling face, a smiling countenance, and submit to humiliation. Any woman who walks the world of Jianghu must sell herself to some degree—whether to the boss, clients, colleagues, or partners—depending on the price. It's just fifty steps laughing at a hundred, after all. Thinking this way, it truly makes one lose heart. How can we blame modern girls for glaringly eyeing money, not talking about love, but measuring the height and demeanor of the opposite sex solely by the thickness of their Renminbi? There's no other reason—rather than selling self-respect and endurance piece by piece, it's better to find a good buyer and wholesale them all at once. Thus, my colleague, Taolei Fei, keeps laughing at me for being dense: "If you put money under your feet, Wu DaLang can become Mu TieZhu. If someone really offers a high price, just follow him—whether as a secretary, mistress, wife, or concubine—it doesn't matter. The key is that it's worth the money." Money. That's what she said. As if I were just a commodity, ready to be placed on a scale to weigh my worth and then discounted. But I don't want to see myself so cheaply. In my heart, there are many things money can't exchange, like love. I dare not tell Taolei Fei this, afraid she'll laugh until her teeth fall out. But I truly long for someone to hold my hand on a night when the moon is at its fullest, with nothing on their mind but enjoying the twinkling stars and the gentle night breeze, talking some foolishly eternal love stories. When the storm comes, he will shield me with his back, and even in the coldest of winters, his embrace will be as warm as spring. I sigh and sigh, and I know that such an ideal is just a dream. Tango requires two people to dance. Now, where are the men who would love a woman simply for her, without glancing at the behind her, without haggling over every penny? Thinking this way, the elevator has already reached the bottom floor, and I rush out, bumping into someone coming from the opposite direction. The box falls with a "thump," and two earrings fall out, one of them shattered into pieces. I am stunned, and strangely, a sense of satisfaction fills me. I don't hurry to pick them up, but first size up the person. He was a...