Part 3: Shadows of Awakening
Arriving in North York from China after his 2 year training under the cover of a warm summer afternoon, Jiang walked up to his house, noting the open door. He dropped his baggage quietly in the entryway and was warmly greeted by his grandmother, Li Mei, who enveloped him in a hug.
"Jiang! You're early-" she began excitedly, but he shushed her with a finger to his lips, a mischievous grin breaking through his serious facade.
"Let me surprise Mom," he whispered, hearing footsteps from the kitchen and assuming it was Su Lan preparing tea.
He crept silently toward the kitchen, but froze in the doorway. There, with her back to him, stood an extremely pretty teenage girl in a small summer dress-light cotton fabric skimming her legs, the straps revealing sun-kissed shoulders. Irritation flickered; who was this stranger in his home? But as she turned, juggling a tray of snacks, her eyes widened in shock.
"Jiang-gege!" she shrieked, the tray clattering to the counter as she launched herself at him.
Time slowed. It was Yan-thirteen now, transformed, her features sharpened into beauty, her body hinting at curves beneath the dress. Before he could recover, she jumped into his arms, legs wrapping around his waist in innocent exuberance. Jiang caught her instinctively, but the contact struck him like lightning-her warmth pressing against him, the soft swell of her budding breasts against his chest, her scent of jasmine enveloping him. His body reacted traitorously, a surge of arousal he fought to suppress, his hands on her back feeling too intimate, too aware.
"Yan... you're... big," he stammered, setting her down quickly, his voice rough.
Awkwardness flooded the air, interspersed with sensual undercurrents he couldn't ignore-the way her dress rode up slightly, the flush on her cheeks.
Yan beamed at first, but noticed his stiffness. "You're back early! I was helping Auntie Jing with snacks."
Her idol had changed-taller, more muscular, more handsome, his eyes holding a depth that awakened something feminine in her, a flutter she didn't understand. It angered her too; why the distance after so long?
Just then, Su Lan and Li Hao entered, drawn by the shriek.
"Jiang!" Lan cried, hugging him tightly, while Hao clapped his back. "Son, what a surprise!"
The room filled with chatter-questions about the monastery, pride in his growth-but Yan watched Jiang closely, sensing the shift. His glances lingered too long, charged with something new, stirring her senses while fueling her irritation at his awkward reserve.
The welcome extended to the Su home later, but the tension lingered, setting the stage for their joint birthday party days later. At eighteen, Jiang was fully transformed-taller, broader, with a chiseled seriousness that spoke of ascetic discipline. His hair cropped short, his movements precise, he embodied the warrior his grandfather had envisioned. Yan had blossomed too, her once-gangly frame curving into early womanhood, her features sharpening into striking beauty with almond eyes and a cascade of dark hair.
The party at Dragon's Delight pulsed with life that evening, the restaurant's lanterns casting a warm, golden glow over the gathered crowd. Tables groaned under platters of steaming dumplings, crispy spring rolls, and towering cakes, while laughter and chatter filled the air like incense. Family friends mingled with schoolmates, the blend of Canadian casualness and Asian traditions creating a festive chaos. But amid the joy, an undercurrent of tension simmered, unnoticed by most.
Jiang arrived fashionably late, stepping through the doors in a simple black tangzhuang jacket that hugged his broadened shoulders, the fabric embroidered with subtle dragon motifs-a nod to his heritage and the rigorous training that had sculpted him. At eighteen, he embodied the martial artist: tall and lean, with corded muscles honed from endless forms and sparring, his posture ramrod straight, exuding an aura of controlled power. His hair was cropped short, accentuating sharp cheekbones and dark eyes that scanned the room with disciplined precision. He carried the gifts from China casually, but his mind raced with anticipation-and now, upon seeing Yan, utter upheaval.
She stood near the dessert table, chatting with a cluster of school friends, transformed in ways that stole his breath. For her thirteenth birthday, Yan had insisted on dressing "grown up," and the result was a silk qipao in soft sapphire blue that skimmed her budding figure, the high collar framing the elegant curve of her neck like a porcelain vase. The dress hinted at the seductress she would one day become-subtle slits revealing glimpses of leg, the fabric clinging just enough to outline the gentle swell of her breasts and the nascent flare of her hips. For the first time, she wore makeup: a touch of eyeliner that made her almond eyes smolder, and bold red lipstick that painted her lips like ripe cherries, full and inviting. Her dark hair cascaded in loose waves, pinned with a jade clip that caught the light. She laughed at something a friend said, the sound tinkling like bells, but when her gaze landed on Jiang, her expression shifted-excitement mingled with a shy nervousness.
*God, she's not a child anymore,* Jiang thought, his heart pounding like a war drum. The sight of her neck's graceful line sent a jolt through him, imagining tracing it with his fingers; the budding curves beneath the silk ignited a fire he fought to smother. And those lips-red, daring-stirred visions he had no right to entertain. *This is Yan. Ming's sister. Five years younger.*
Shame flooded him, clashing with the primal certainty that had awakened: *She's mine. Always has been... But why do I feel such certainty? Am I going mad? Did my ascetic 2 years of time away from girls and socializing make me go crazy over a 13yr old!! *
His bone deep certainty of their belonging to each other felt nonsensical in this modern world, such thoughts archaic, possessive poison. He clenched his fists, forcing a neutral expression, torn between claiming her and fleeing from the guilt.
Yan's inner world swirled in equal turmoil. *Jiang-ge looks... incredible, all guys in my class and school look like kids next to him.. Wait! Why am I comparing!!! * she mused, her cheeks warming under the makeup. Like a hero from those wuxia novels she secretly read-strong, unyielding, his jacket accentuating the V of his torso, his eyes holding a depth that made her stomach flutter. She'd crushed on him at eleven, innocent and adoring, but now, at thirteen, hormones amplified it into something scary, thrilling.
Yet his gaze, when it met hers, burned with an intensity that her female instincts recognized - a dangerous adult passion a girl must be beware of-raw, possessive.*Why is he looking at me like he wants to... eat me?* Fear prickled her skin, even as curiosity drew her in. Anger simmered too; after two years, he owed her warmth, not this cold wall.
"Jiang-ge!" she called, weaving through the crowd with determined grace, her qipao swishing softly. She stopped before him, tilting her head up, the red of her lips curving into a tentative smile.
"Finally, celebrating a birthday together after such a long time.. I... I missed you."
Jiang swallowed hard, his throat dry. Up close, her scent-jasmine from her shampoo-wafted over him, intoxicating.
"Yan," he replied, voice rougher than intended. He thrust the silk fan toward her like a shield. "Brought this for you. From Wudang. Thought you'd like it."
Her fingers brushed his as she took it, a spark jumping between them. Yan's eyes widened, her pulse racing. She unfolded the fan, painted cherry blossoms fluttering.
"It's beautiful. Thank you."
But his averted gaze stung.
"You seem... different. Colder. Did the monastery turn you into a monk or something?"
He forced a chuckle, but it came out strained. *If only she knew how not monk-like my thoughts are.*
"Just focused. Training was intense. How's school? Ming says you're top of your class."
"It's okay," she said, fidgeting with the fan, her lips curving in a slow smile that made Jiang's jaw tighten. *Stop looking,* he berated himself. *She's thirteen. You were always, you're her protector, not... this.. this evil creep you're becoming!*
Aloud, he added, "You look... grown up. The dress suits you."
Yan's heart soared at the compliments, but his tone-clipped, distant-deflated her. Does he like it? Or is he just being polite? Anger bubbled.
"Yeah, well, I'm not a kid anymore. Mom let me wear makeup too. Do you... like it?" Her voice challenged, hiding the vulnerability.
"Ah sure," he said too quickly, eyes flicking to her lips, the bold red mesmerizing. A flash of desire hit him-imagining smudging that color, feeling her soft lips with his rough fingers-and he looked away, ashamed. "It's fine. You look nice."
"Fine? Nice?" Yan's eyes narrowed, fear twisting into frustration. He's treating me politely, like a stranger. After all those letters I wrote that he never answered properly?
"Wow, thanks. Glad you're thrilled to be back."
Before Jiang could respond, Su Ming bounded over, clapping his friend on the back. "Dude, finally! You look like you could take on a whole gang now."
Ming, at eighteen like Jiang, was his usual boisterous self in jeans and a graphic tee, oblivious to the tension. He glanced between them, frowning, finally noticing their tense stances.
"What's with the awkward? You two used to be glued at the hip-Yan was always asking about you, Jiang."
Yan's cheeks flamed. "Shut up, Ming-ge!"
Jiang managed a weak smile. "Just catching up."
Their parents converged then, drawn by the group's energy. Su Jing, apron still tied from helping in the kitchen, boomed,
"Jiang, my boy! Look at you-built like a warrior. Your dad must be proud."
Li Hao nodded beside him, beaming, while Su Lan and Li Mei exchanged hugs.
But Su Lan tilted her head, noticing the stiffness. "Everything alright? Yan, sweetie, you seem upset. And Jiang, you're so quiet. You kids were inseparable before he left- why so quiet now?"
"Yeah," Li Hao added, confused. "Thought you'd have stories to share. What's going on?"
"Nothing," Jiang muttered, eyes on the floor. If they knew...
Yan forced a laugh, but it rang hollow. "He's just jet-lagged, Mom. Or maybe the monastery just iced out his personality."
Inside, sadness gnawed: Why is this so hard? I want the old Jiang back, but... I want more, too.
Ming scratched his head. "Come on, let's cut the cake. Maybe sugar will fix this weirdness."
Later, as the party hummed on, Yan's irritation with Jiang's aloofness peaked. Spotting him alone by the window, nursing a drink, she decided to tease him-channeling the femme fatales from the Chinese dramas she'd binge-watched.
Unfurling the silk fan he'd gifted her, she sauntered over, fluttering it coyly before her face, her red lips pouting in a challenging smile.
"Jiang-ge," she purred, batting her lashes, "does this also suit me?"
Ming, watching from nearby, burst into laughter. "Yan, you look like a bad actress! What are you even doing?"
Yan's cheeks burned, the moment ruined and she angrily walked away but what none noticed was its profound effect on Jiang. The fan's graceful arc, combined with her budding allure, aroused him fiercely-the silk whispering like a promise, her eyes peeking over it like a siren's call. He was reminded of a dialog he'd once heard in an ancient tale: "A silk fan in a beautiful woman's hands can be as dangerous as a sword in a soldier's."
Shame crashed over him; he couldn't face Ming and moved away abruptly, citing fatigue, his body betraying him in ways he despised.
As the group moved, Li Wei and Li Hua observed from a corner table, sipping tea.
"See it?" Hua whispered. "The way he watches her-like a dragon eyeing its treasure."
Wei nodded sagely. "And her fire rises to meet it. The currents run deep, my dear. Destiny doesn't care for ages or modern rules. But they'll fight it... for now."
The party continued, but the air between Jiang and Yan crackled, unspoken words and forbidden thoughts weaving a web that only tightened with every glance.
Jiang left early, citing police academy exams. "Gotta study," he said curtly, avoiding Yan's gaze. She watched him go, sad and worried, while Ming scratched his head in confusion.
"What's up with him?" he asked her.
"I don't know," Yan replied, fighting tears.
In the quiet aftermath, Li Wei and Li Hua exchanged glances. "It's clear now," Wei said softly. "Their souls are entwined. The dragon and the pearl-destined, but fraught."
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At thirteen, Su Yan navigated the turbulent waters of adolescence, her thoughts swirling with the mysteries of boys and budding independence. In her North York middle school, surrounded by friends like bubbly Aria and sharp-tongued Lena, conversations often veered into giggles over crushes and makeup.
"Yan, that guy from math class totally likes you," Aria teased one lunch period, as they huddled under a maple tree. "He's cute-tall, like your brother's friend Jiang. So does our soccer champ next class! They all stare at your so much."
Yan blushed, waving it off. "Boys are weird. I mean, makeup's what's fun not guys and dating, I'm not ready for all that drama."
Yet privately, her mind wandered to fleeting dreams of romance, innocent and hazy, influenced by K-dramas her mom loved.
The chaos in her thoughts often traced back to that farewell hug two years prior, when Jiang left for China at sixteen. She'd clung to him desperately, her eleven-year-old self burying her face in his chest. But in that moment, something shifted-his arms around her felt strong, protective in a way that wasn't brotherly. His scent, clean and faintly spiced from training, lingered; the press of his body awakened a strange warmth she couldn't name. He's not like Ming-ge, she'd realized then, blushing furiously as he pulled away. During his absence, her thoughts fixated on him relentlessly-wondering about his days in the mountains, penning letters filled with school tales and doodles of dragons, her heart aching with a longing she disguised as sisterly concern.
Now, at thirteen, those feelings had deepened, especially since his return as a man- chiseled, intense, his presence stirring flutters she tried to ignore. Concern gnawed at her too- were her desires heading toward something dangerous, forbidden by their ages, perhaps even illegal in society's eyes? Why does it feel okay to crush on Kpop idols 10or more years older than her while her feelings for Jiang-gege just 5years older feels sooo..wrong...
And her most shameful secret she hid as she grappled with her puberty and hormones: in quiet nights, her hand would wander beneath the sheets, thoughts of Jiang's dark eyes and strong hands fueling secret pleasures that left her guilty and yearning. He has always treated me as a little sister, how could I..
But then her traitorous mind would remind her- nothing brotherly or sisterly in how you both look at each other now...
The pivotal moment came at fourteen, during a sleepover at the Su home. Aria, Lena, and a few others sprawled in Yan's room, faces smeared with face masks, chattering about school dances.
"Yan, so many guys after you but you decline all of them saying they're too immature... okay, if you're thinking of a mature guy...well who better than Mr.Hottie next door? You and Jiang would make such a cute couple," Aria said.
Lena joked suddenly, winking. "He's hot now, all muscly from that training. And you're neighbors-total rom-com setup! I used to think your brother Ming was the hottest guy around but wow, Jiang dude is something else"
Her friends had met Jiang for the first time at her 14th and his 19th birthday party and quickly became his ardent fans- she was extremely jealous but also weirdly proud - why! Jiang had been a hot topic amongst her friends, his sneak shots they'd take got so much attention at class and now in almost all conversations, he somehow figured in. Annoying, he is just my... My annoying serious boring neighbor..right?
Aria again repeated her suggestion, 'Yan, fess up puh-leez..not even a teeny bitsy crush on such a hot dude?
Yan's heart raced, nerves twisting her stomach. The idea said out loud felt wrong-taboo, given their ages, their families closeness and his friendship with Ming.
Before Yan could say anything, a serious girl in their group Sophie chirped up loud,
"Ew, no way! That's gross. He's like a brother, they grew up together didn't they? And.. yewww and way too old. Never should happen...it's almost like going after a foster bro ", she protested vehemently, her voice loud.
Aria agreed, "Yeah age gap is a bit.... Hmm! But he is not a foster bro and not anything illegal right??! And maybe he is into younger-girls and stuff, don't you want to check out? Older guys are more interesting. I know I want to check out that tattooed guy and he is 25! "
They all laughed out loud.
"Stop it!" Yan protested, laughing nervously but vehemently shaking her head. "I.. Sophie is right, it's disgusting. He's five years older, and I don't see him that way at all. He is like my brother, nothing ever gonna happen. And I am not just into dating but if I had to pick someone- I don't know, maybe the soccer guy next class, he has been nice"
Her denial rang out louder than intended, masking the fear of judgemental eyes on a feeling that felt forbidden yet so very right, the shame of her secret indulgences. If they knew I... touch myself thinking of him, they'd think I'm yucky.
Lena raised an eyebrow. "Whoa, touchy. Hmmm....Okay Fine, anyways Mr Protective Brother Ming would flip if you crushed on his bestie, wouldn't he? Speaking of, is Ming single? He's kinda hot in that goofy way."
Yan rolled her eyes, relieved at the shift. "Gross, don't even. Ming-ge's too busy with video games and Jiang. But yeah, he's single I think -go for it if you want to compete with a video game for attention."
The girls dissolved into giggles, but unbeknownst to them, Jiang, dropping off books for Ming next door, overheard through the open window. The words struck like a blow, depressing him deeply. She is disgusted - as she should be.. why am I not disgusted by the creepy thoughts I have whenever I see her! he thought, retreating to his room, wrestling with his unresolved feelings. He was increasingly feeling like he is crazy, a pervert - am I turning into a pedo, is it all because I have never looked at other girls and never dated?
Later downstairs, Ming cornered Jiang in the kitchen later that evening, after the girls' laughter echoed from above.
Ming, lounging against the counter in his hoodie, handed Jiang a soda. "Dude, what's up with you and Yan nowadays? At the party, you two were like oil and water. You used to spoil her rotten-now you barely talk. She used to treat you more as a bro, used to mope around asking about you, but now - all weird, silent or cranky when you're here. Did you guys have a fight I don't know about? "
Jiang stared at the floor, his martial artist's poise hiding inner turmoil. "Nothing like that. She's just growing up and has her friends now. I'm focused on exams, police academy stuff. I am just an older maybe serious boring guy to her. "
Ming frowned, suspicion flickering. He had a sneaking inkling his sister harbored a crush on his best friend-her flushed cheeks when Jiang's name came up, the way she'd quiz him on Jiang's letters from China. And he knew very well the effect Jiang has had on girls roll now, so his sister crushing - irritating but normal I think!
And he didn't have to worry about anything because Jiang? The guy was ascetic to a fault-never dated, barely glanced at girls in school. At least she is crushing on someone who is well on his way to scoring a record in their circles - staying a virgin at 20!
"Come on, man. She's been off since you got back. If it's some fight, fix it. You're like her big bro too."
"She's not MY SISTER" Jiang snapped, sharper than intended.
Looking at a surprised Ming, he then softened. "I mean, yeah, I'll talk to her. Later, now I am ... busy."
Ming punched his arm lightly, sensing Jiang's irritation. Looks like Yan somehow messed up with this guy's head, best may be to leave him alone. "Alright, monk boy. But don't ice her out. She looks up to you- always has."
That night, as the sleepover wound down and her friends drifted into slumber amid scattered pillows and half-eaten snacks, Yan slipped into a dream that wrapped around her like warm silk, pulling her deeper into a world of hazy desire. It wasn't the first time her subconscious had wandered to Jiang, but this one felt achingly real, stirring sensations she'd only begun to understand at fourteen.
In the dream, they were alone in a misty garden that blurred the lines between the familiar North York parks of her childhood and something more ethereal-cherry blossoms drifting like snowflakes under a twilight sky, the air thick with the scent of jasmine and rain-soaked earth. Jiang stood before her, not the distant figure he'd become since his return, not the heroic one she'd idolized: but taller and stronger, older and dressed in more Wuxia style clothing, his dark eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race. She felt older too and no longer scared by the intensity of his gaze. He wasn't aloof here; instead, he reached out, his calloused fingers brushing her cheek with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine.
"Yan Fei," he whispered, his voice low and husky, like the rumble of distant thunder. She felt herself drawn forward, her body responding without thought, stepping into his arms. Yan Fei? I know that name but I don't.. The hanfu she wore- like the sapphire qipao one from her birthday-clung to her skin, the fabric whispering against her as his hands settled on her waist, pulling her close. His touch was electric, warm palms sliding up her back, tracing the curve of her spine in a way that made her breath hitch. She tilted her head up, mesmerized by the way his lips curved into a soft smile, the bold red of her own lipstick suddenly feeling like an invitation.
Their kiss started slow, tentative-a brush of lips that ignited a spark deep within her. His mouth was firm yet gentle, tasting faintly of mint and something uniquely him, and as she melted into it, the world around them faded. Her hands found their way to his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath the embroidered jacket, the hard planes of muscle that spoke of his training. Sensations bloomed like flowers in spring: the heat of his body pressing against hers, the way his fingers tangled in her hair, tilting her head to deepen the kiss. It was romantic, intoxicating-her first taste of passion, where every touch felt like a promise, every sigh a secret shared. She arched into him, her bold curves molding to his frame, a flush spreading through her, stirring a warmth low in her belly - I have never felt like this but why does this feel so familiar, like his kisses are a joy I have always been used to?
In the dream's haze, words weren't needed; it was all feeling, all emotion-the way he looked at her like she was the center of his universe, possessive yet reverent, erasing the age gap, the familial ties, the real-world walls.
Yan awoke with a start, her sheets twisted around her legs, heart pounding as if she'd run a marathon. The room was dark, her friends snoring softly nearby, but she felt exposed, cheeks burning with a mix of shyness and something hotter, more bewildering.
What was that? she thought, pressing a hand to her flushed face, the phantom sensation of his lips lingering on her skin.
Her body still hummed with the dream's echoes-the warmth between her thighs, the way her nipples had tightened against her nightshirt-leaving her bothered and restless. She shifted uncomfortably, guilt creeping in; this wasn't just a silly crush anymore. It felt too real, too grown-up, making her shy to even glance at herself in the mirror. Jiang-ge... why him? The dream amplified the chaos in her mind: the innocent hug from years ago now colored with hindsight, his absence's void, the forbidden edge, her secret shame. As dawn crept in, she buried her face in her pillow, vowing to push it down, but knowing the bother would linger, a secret flame in her adolescent heart. She may have been happier to know she wasn't the only one caught by dreams.
That night, as the weight of unspoken tensions pressed upon him, Jiang retreated to his room in the Li family home, the quiet North York street outside offering no solace to his restless mind. At nineteen, his ascetic discipline usually ensured swift, dreamless sleep-meditation clearing the clutter of the day like a broom through fallen leaves. But tonight, after overhearing Yan's vehement denial and wrestling with his own forbidden stirrings, slumber came fitfully. When it deepened, it pulled him into a vivid dream that mirrored the chaos in his soul, sensual and romantic in its intensity, featuring the real-life Yan who haunted his waking thoughts.
In the dream, they were secluded in a shadowed room high in the Wudang Mountains, the place where his training had forged him, but transformed into a sanctuary of intimacy. Moonlight filtered through paper screens, casting ethereal patterns on tatami mats, the air heavy with the scent of incense and blooming orchids-echoes of the jasmine she'd worn at the party. Yan appeared before him, not the little girl he fought to see her as, but an adult vision of allure , wearing her a sapphire hanfu that draped her figure like mist over hills. Her dark hair cascaded freely, her almond eyes gleaming with a knowing confidence, her bold red lips curved in a teasing smile that drew him inexorably closer. My god, is this how she is going to look when she is older? How am I going to survive?
"Lihang.." she murmured, her voice a soft caress that sent a shiver through his disciplined frame. Lihang? Me, also not me.. why does that name from her lips feel natural? Should I be angry she is calling someone else while looking at me?
He stepped forward, unable to resist, his black warrior like clothing feeling constricting against his skin as if it were a barrier to be shed. In this realm, she was not a minor forbidden to him, the age gap dissolved, the familial bonds unraveled; she was simply his, and he hers, without the shackles of reality. His hands, calloused from years of strikes and forms, reached for her, fingers tracing the elegant curve of her neck with reverence, feeling the rapid pulse beneath her soft skin. She leaned into his touch, her bold curves pressing against him as he pulled her close, the warmth of her body igniting a fire he'd long suppressed.
Their kiss was inevitable, hungry-a collision of lips that started with tentative exploration and built into a storm of passion. Her mouth yielded to his, tasting of sweet lychee and unspoken longing, her red lipstick smudging against his as he deepened it, one hand cupping her face while the other slid down her back, feeling the swell of her breasts through the silk. Sensations overwhelmed him: the silk whispering as it shifted under his grasp, her soft sigh against his ear as he trailed kisses along her jaw, down to the hollow of her throat. He lifted her effortlessly-his martial strength a tool for tenderness now-laying her on the mats, his body covering hers in a protective, possessive embrace. Her hands explored him in return, fingers slipping beneath his jacket to trace the hard ridges of his abdomen, the scars from training that marked him as a warrior. The dream pulsed with romance, each touch a declaration. It was sensual, awakening every nerve: the heat building between them, the friction of fabric giving way to skin, a crescendo of shared breaths and moans that left him on the brink of ecstasy, her eyes locking with his in a gaze of utter devotion.
Jiang jolted awake in his bed, sweat-dampened sheets clinging to his body, his heart thundering like after a grueling sparring session.
The room was pitch black, the clock glowing 3:17 AM, but he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way his training had never prepared him for.
What the hell was that? he thought, running a hand through his cropped hair, his body still thrumming with the dream's aftershocks-the insistent ache of arousal, the phantom warmth of her against him. Shame flooded him; this wasn't the ascetic path he'd vowed to walk. Yan was real, too young, forbidden by age and by relationship-yet the dream had stripped away those barriers, revealing the depth of his desire. It bothered him deeply, stirring conflict: his morals and teachings warring with the primal urge to claim her, guilt over the age gap twisting like a knife and his shame at the fact that he was desiring a girl who was a minor - even his thoughts were a crime!
She's just a girl, Ming's sister, he berated himself, but the memory of her lips, her touch, lingered, making him shy away from his own reflection in the mirror as he splashed cold water on his face. The dream amplified his angst-the innocent protectiveness he felt for her from their childhood now tainted, his time in China haunted by thoughts of her, the party glances charged with unspoken hunger.
Did I always see her as mine? God was I a perv from the start? I should be shot!
As he lay back down, staring at the ceiling, he vowed to bury it deeper, but the bother festered, a crack in his iron resolve that whispered of destinies he dared not acknowledge. Will it be fine if I hid this from everyone and waited.. waited for Yan to be ready, an adult and able to accept his passions? Will that make his feelings and pursuit alright?
For the first time, he started wondering if his grandpa had predicted this dilemma before him- did his all-knowing Grandpa send him for all this endurance training and disciplining knowing he would fail this trial before him without the training he needed?
As the night wore on, both Yan and Jiang retreated to their thoughts, depressed in parallel. Yan, curled in bed after her friends left, wrestled with the chaos: the hug's warmth, his absence's void, the dream's fire, the forbidden edge, her secret shame. How do I face him at our birthday party? It's soon- I'll just be fifteen still a kid but..he, he will be 20 and may be already dating or about to seriously date..he will meet older sexier adult girls..and I will be just a little sister..it hurts.
Jiang, in his room next door, echoed a different kind worry:- Why am I planning for pursuing her when she is 18???? It's in 3 years! I'm 5years older - 5 years!!! Why would she wait for an older boring guy like me when she may already be planning to date guys her age?? Why am I even worrying about all this? How can I look at her without betraying everything? The party's coming-got to act normal.
Night and days wore with one person feeling sad about being too old and other about being too young. The cosmic thread strained, their shared birthday looming like a reckoning.
However what came for them on their birthdays -Yan's 15th and Jiang's 20th - upturned their lives even more.