After breakfast, with Pei Cheng’s permission, Xu Huan boldly began to explore the shop.
Her gaze wandered over the walls, which were covered with various tattoo designs, some wild, some intricate. Her fingers lightly brushed against the designs framed in glass until she was suddenly drawn to one particular image.
It was a blossoming flower, its petals layered and overlapping, each one seeming to stretch out with a yearning for life. The stem coiled upward, blooming into an enchanting flower at the tip, with tiny droplets of water glistening at its center like morning dew—or perhaps tears.
"Do you like that one?" a deep male voice spoke from behind her.
Xu Huan turned around to see that Pei Cheng had appeared behind her. His features were deep-set, with a prominent brow bone that cast a shadow in the light, making it difficult to read his expression.
"Yes," Xu Huan nodded. "This flower... it seems to be trying to say something."
"It’s called 'Yearning'," Pei Cheng said, walking up beside her. "Everyone who comes here to get a tattoo hides some unspoken yearning in their heart."
Xu Huan’s heart skipped a beat. She looked down at the drawing and suddenly made a bold decision. "Can you tattoo one for me? Right here." She pointed to the area on her left chest, near her heart.
Pei Cheng raised his eyes lazily, his tone carrying a hint of indifference. "Have you had a tattoo before?"
Xu Huan shook her head. "No."
Pei Cheng gave a soft "Hmm." His eyes dropped to the spot she had indicated, his voice low and languid. "Choosing such a sensitive spot for your first tattoo? It will be very painful."
"I'm not afraid of the pain," Xu Huan said, raising her head with a firm look.
Pei Cheng stared at her for a few seconds, a faint, almost imperceptible arc appearing at the corners of his lips. "All right."
Because the desired location was over her left atrium, it required exposing half her chest. When Pei Cheng told her to undo her buttons and lie on the bed, Xu Huan felt awkward. She gripped her collar tightly, her knuckles turning white. She kept her head down, her ears burning red, and stammered for a long time before finally gathering the courage to pull down the left side of her collar, revealing her fair shoulder.
"I—I'm ready," she said, her voice as thin as a mosquito’s hum, her cheeks flushed like a ripe apple.
Pei Cheng was busy adjusting his tattoo machine and looked up at the sound. Xu Huan was already lying on the small bed, her left shoulder fully exposed, her collarbone as delicate as a piece of art. Her right hand was tightly clutching the fabric of her shirt, her knuckles white; she was clearly incredibly nervous.
"Relax," Pei Cheng said as he put on his gloves, his voice calm. "I tattoo over a dozen people a day. You don't need to feel embarrassed."
His tone was professional and restrained, as if she were nothing more than a plain canvas. Xu Huan stole a glance at him and saw that his eyes were clear, devoid of any strange ripples, which allowed her to finally breathe a sigh of relief.
When the antiseptic cotton swab brushed against her skin, Xu Huan couldn't help but flinch.
Pei Cheng’s hand paused. "Cold?"
"A little..."
Pei Cheng turned to turn up the thermostat and brought over a thin blanket to cover her, leaving only the area to be tattooed exposed. His movements were gentle, as if he were handling something fragile.
"Thank you," Xu Huan whispered.
"Don't mention it," Pei Cheng replied, picking up the tattoo machine again. "Are you ready? It might sting a bit."
Xu Huan took a deep breath and nodded. As the tattoo machine began to hum, she closed her eyes. The moment the needle pierced her skin, she gasped, the pain darting through her body like an electric current.
"If it hurts, you can cry out," Pei Cheng said, his voice level. "You don't have to hold it in."
Xu Huan bit her lower lip and shook her head. She could feel that Pei Cheng’s hands were steady, his movements clean and efficient. The pain gradually turned numb, replaced by a strange, tingling sensation. She snuck her eyes open and looked at Pei Cheng’s focused profile. His eyelashes were long, casting a shadow in the light, his nose was high, and his lips were pressed into a straight line.
After an unknown amount of time, Pei Cheng finally stopped. "Done."
Xu Huan looked down. An enchanting flower now bloomed on her chest, the water droplets on its petals shimmering under the light. She reached out to touch it, but Pei Cheng blocked her. "Don't touch it. I haven't applied the ointment yet."
Just then, Xu Huan’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen—it was a call from her Eldest Brother Xu Jiahe. She guessed that he was likely calling to berate her for ruining Xu Yan’s painting. Not wanting Pei Cheng to see her at her lowest, she chose not to answer.
Pei Cheng raised an eyebrow at this but said nothing. Acting as if he hadn't noticed, he leaned in to carefully apply ointment to the tattoo, his touch as gentle as if he were tending to a precious work of art.
"Don't let it get wet for the next few days," he instructed while applying the ointment. "Apply this twice a day, morning and night. I'll give you a tube."
Xu Huan nodded, feeling the warmth of his fingertips. The ointment was cooling, soothing the burning sensation of the tattoo.
"Also," Pei Cheng looked up at her, "it might get a bit itchy over the next few days. Whatever you do, don't scratch it. If it gets inflamed, make sure to come see me."
His gaze was focused and sincere, and suddenly, Xu Huan felt as though the flower on her chest was burning even hotter. She lowered her head and whispered, "I understand."
Before she could finish, the phone rang again. Xu Huan glanced at it—still Xu Jiahe.
"Answer it," Pei Cheng said, tidying his tools in a flat tone. "It might be urgent."
Xu Huan shook her head. "It's fine..."
When the third ring sounded, Xu Huan sighed. She knew that things shouldn't go past three; if she didn't answer now, she feared Xu Jiahe would come storming over directly. "I'm going to take this call." She stood up and walked out of the shop.
Pei Cheng watched her retreating back, lost in thought.
***
Eldest Brother Xu was several years older than Xu Huan. When he was just a teenager, his parents had passed away, forcing him to become the pillar of the household and support his younger siblings. To his brothers and sisters, their twenty-eight-year-old brother was no different from a father. No one dared to contradict him or defy his words.
When she was first brought back to the Xu Family, Xu Huan had actually been very reliant on Eldest Brother Xu. He had saved her, and he was her own flesh and blood; she had harbored fantasies of being spoiled by him and her other two brothers. But she hadn't realized that the three of them had a much deeper emotional connection with Xu Yan than with her, a younger sister they hadn't seen for twenty years.
She went from wanting to share every little thing with him to eventually fearing the sight of him. Xu Huan knew why he was calling, and she truly didn't want to answer. But the submissive nature she had developed since childhood made it difficult for her to truly rebel. She was accustomed to listening and obeying.
Ultimately, Xu Huan swiped the answer icon.
"What are you doing? Why did it take you so long to pick up?"
Eldest Brother Xu’s slightly displeased voice came through the phone.