Obsessed with Cleanliness Chapter 1: I Miss You

When Xiao Tong got off the plane, it was already 1 a.m. There weren’t many people on this flight, and most had family or friends picking them up.

As soon as they stepped out of the airport, everyone scattered, leaving only Xiao Tong standing by the roadside with her suitcase.

She waited, hoping a passing taxi might show up and take her. She leaned against a utility pole, looking in both directions. It was pitch black—no cars, no people. She had no idea how long she’d be waiting. It was late autumn, the night damp and cold.

Suddenly, a breeze picked up, cutting straight to the bone. Xiao Tong was only wearing a sleeveless short dress.

She shivered, rubbed her arms, and stomped her feet. Her high heels hit the pavement with two dull thuds, echoing down the empty street, fading into the darkness. Only a few insect chirps responded from the grass nearby.

After waiting over an hour, the taxi she had called finally arrived. She got in, closed the door, and collapsed in the back seat.

She hadn’t slept for days, and hadn’t closed her eyes at all the night before. Only now did the exhaustion hit her.

She rubbed her face, gave the driver the address, told him to drive, and slumped into the seat, staring blankly at a curled-up corner of the floor mat by her feet.

She couldn’t sleep.

Without Yu Qinghan, she just couldn’t sleep.

Xiao Tong had slipped back secretly.

Tomorrow, she was supposed to debut her first independent fashion line in Paris.

But with the moment finally here, she had run away.

Getting a show at Paris Fashion Week was a dream most designers could never touch.

But she had walked away from her first chance to appear at that prestigious event, left behind the entire team that had prepared for over six months, and rushed back under the cover of night.

All because the day before, Yu Qinghan had suddenly called her long-distance. Her voice was lazy, teasing—she said only four words before hanging up.

Yu Qinghan said, "I miss you."

That soft, sexy voice traveled through the phone, hit Xiao Tong’s ears, and slammed into her heart.

She froze for two seconds with the phone pressed to her ear.

By the time she snapped out of it, she was already on the plane.

To hear those words—"I miss you"—from Yu Qinghan was so rare.

Paris, fashion shows, none of it mattered anymore. All she could hear in her head were those four words, looping again and again. She wanted to see Yu Qinghan. She wanted to sprout wings and fly to her side.

"Miss Xiao, we’ve arrived," the driver said, snapping her out of her daze.

She looked out the window. Familiar surroundings, it was home.

"Thank you," Xiao Tong nodded, paid the fare, got out of the car, and rushed into the building.

She was in such a hurry, she looked almost panicked. Only inside the elevator did she remember to fix her appearance in the wall’s reflection. Her hair was up in a bun, tidy enough. Her clothes were clean and neat.

After all, she was a fashion designer and cared about how she looked. She checked both sides. Nothing seemed off.

Just then, the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Xiao Tong took a deep breath, pulled her suitcase out, and stopped in front of a door.

She slid the key into the lock, twisted it open with a click, and arranged the most perfect smile on her face.

Yu Qinghan was a clean freak, she hated anything dirty. Once, Xiao Tong had stayed late at the studio and gotten some chalk dust on her pants. Yu Qinghan gave her the cold shoulder for days.

After that, Xiao Tong was always extremely careful every time they met, afraid of messing up even the tiniest detail.

Only when her clothes and expression were perfectly arranged did she step inside.

She had just put one foot over the threshold when she froze.

The flawless smile on her face stiffened.

The bedroom door was slightly ajar.

Soft, moaning sounds—delicate and intimate—spilled out.

Even with her eyes closed, Xiao Tong could recognize one of those voices.

She had listened to it for over ten years. It was burned into her bones.

Through the narrow crack in the door, she could see the smooth, bare back of a woman.

Even if she were turned to ash, Xiao Tong would still recognize her.

She had looked at Yu Qinghan for over ten years, thought about her for over ten years, loved her for over ten years.

She knew everything about Yu Qinghan just from a breath, she could tell it was her.

Xiao Tong felt like someone had gripped her throat and stopped her heart.

Her ears buzzed, her head throbbed, and the hand clutching the doorknob turned ghostly white from the pressure.

Her wrist, her arm, her whole face was drained of color except for her bright red lips, bold like blood.

The door remained half open, and Xiao Tong stood frozen in that position for several minutes.

The people inside the bedroom were lost in passion and completely unaware she was there.

Her hand slowly released the doorknob.

Color gradually returned to her fingers, her wrist, her cheeks.

She stepped back, gently closed the door, careful not to make a single sound, afraid to disturb the silent night.

Xiao Tong had been by Yu Qinghan’s side for more than ten years.

She had noticed things, of course.

But Yu Qinghan hated people meddling in her life, and Xiao Tong didn’t want to invite heartbreak.

So she avoided Yu Qinghan’s social circles, pretended to be an ostrich for more than a decade.

She never thought she'd walk right into it tonight, by sheer bad luck.

It felt like taking a punch straight to the face, she went numb.

A breeze blew through the hallway, like it was pushing her out.

Xiao Tong stumbled after it, out of the hallway, into the elevator, down the building, outside again.

She stood under the dark sky, lost, not knowing where to go.

Xiao Tong felt cold.

No wonder—late autumn nights were chilly, and she was dressed far too lightly.

Thankfully, there was a 24-hour convenience store nearby.

She dragged her suitcase inside, bought a pack of cigarettes, and came back out.

She sat on the steps outside the building, tore open the pack, quickly pulled out a cigarette, and held it in her mouth.

Tilting her head, she lit it. As the nicotine filled her lungs, she shuddered, finally feeling a bit of warmth return.

It had been a long time since she last smoked.

She had once been a heavy smoker, picked up the habit when she was young and naive.

Then she met Yu Qinghan. That woman had a cleanliness obsession, couldn’t even stand the slightest smell, let alone smoke.

Between smoking and Yu Qinghan, Xiao Tong realized she couldn’t live without the latter, so she quit.

Well, not completely.

When the craving was unbearable, she’d sneak one in while hiding, then walk for hours around the neighborhood, chewing half a tin of mint gum until her mouth went numb, just to see Yu Qinghan without her noticing a trace of smoke.

That method was just too much trouble. So slowly, Xiao Tong actually managed to quit smoking. But today, for some reason, the craving came back.

It was so cold, Xiao Tong needed something to hold her together, something to help her make it through this freezing, shivering night.

In the dark corner of the night, a small, flickering red glow lit up again and again.

Eventually, the sky began to pale with dawn. The sun peeked out from behind the tall buildings, its light gradually warming Xiao Tong’s body.

By now, she had already smoked into her second pack, a pile of cigarette butts scattered around her feet.

As morning broke, more and more people began coming and going in the complex. Xiao Tong couldn’t keep sitting there, looking a mess, on the steps.

She sighed and stood up, brushed the ash off her skirt, leaned against the wall, and held an unlit cigarette between two fingers.

Her face was blank as she stared toward the entrance, watching every single person who came out of the building.

No… not them. Not them… still not them…

Xiao Tong watched one familiar or unfamiliar face after another leave until a young and beautiful woman walked out.

Xiao Tong’s eyes narrowed slightly, and her fingers around the cigarette tightened.

She really was a pretty girl.

Probably a student, still looked like a teenager.

Her hair was simply tied in a ponytail, and her skin was so smooth it looked like it could hold water.

Her clear eyes reflected the morning glow. So pure, so innocent like a mountain spring untouched by pollution.

No wonder Yu Qinghan liked her.

She loved clean things. Clean people.

That kind of pure, untainted innocence. Xiao Tong could never learn it, not in a lifetime.

The girl was startled by Xiao Tong’s intense stare, as if she had been seen through.

Two patches of red bloomed on her cheeks, redder than the morning sky.

Such a sheltered little girl just one look and she blushed like that.

Xiao Tong smiled and gave her a polite nod. "Good morning."

"G-Good… morning…"

The stranger’s sudden greeting left the girl flustered and shy.

She hurried away in embarrassment.

Xiao Tong smiled wider.

The sun shone on her, but it couldn’t reach her eyes.

So clean.

Xiao Tong felt a deep envy rise from within.

Too clean.

Standing there in the sunlight, so righteous, so proud.

Xiao Tong leaned against the wall and continued waiting.

Finally, a tall, slender woman in workout clothes came out of the building.

Xiao Tong instinctively straightened up, a light flashing in her eyes.

A truly beautiful woman like heaven had carved her by hand.

Her eyes were sharp, with deep sockets, but often half-lidded with laziness, her lashes hiding their brilliance.

It gave off a relaxed and gentle illusion. Her long, slightly wavy chestnut hair made her look even softer and more approachable, the kind of look that made people want to get close.

That was the light of Xiao Tong’s life.

"Xiao Tong?" Yu Qinghan’s eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you were in Paris? When did you get back?"

"Just arrived," Xiao Tong pointed to her suitcase by her leg, her eyes unwilling to leave Yu Qinghan for even a second.

Yu Qinghan was tall, a natural clothes hanger. Even in a simple tracksuit, she managed to show off her long, straight legs.

Xiao Tong had seen countless models in her career, but not one could compare to her.

Of course they couldn’t, those models didn’t have even a strand of Yu Qinghan’s elegance or poise.

Yu Qinghan looked fresh and clean, nothing like someone who had indulged the night before.

She glanced down at Xiao Tong’s suitcase, then noticed the pile of cigarette butts near her feet.

Her brow furrowed. She gave a dismissive laugh.

"You’ve been smoking?"

"J-Just a few…"

"I told you if I ever catch you smoking again, you’re out of here."

Xiao Tong froze.

She rubbed her hands awkwardly and forced a nervous smile.

"It was just too cold…"

"Cold? Then why didn’t you go home?"

Yu Qinghan glanced sideways at the "few" cigarette butts, her smile fading.

Her expression turned distant.

"This is your home. Or did I stop you from coming in?"

"I… didn’t bring my key."

Xiao Tong lowered her head.

A grown woman, yet in front of Yu Qinghan, she looked like a child who had done something wrong. She clutched her suitcase handle tightly, her palms sweating.

She sniffed. She could smell the smoke on herself. She shouldn’t have smoked that much.

Xiao Tong was full of regret. She had held out for so many years, why had she been so stupid this time?

Now she had only earned Yu Qinghan’s disgust again.

Who knew how long she’d be ignored this time?

There was nothing Xiao Tong feared more than Yu Qinghan not wanting her anymore.

She thought Yu Qinghan would just turn cold and walk off, refusing to even breathe the same air as her with all that smoke.

But to her surprise, Yu Qinghan actually reached out and took her suitcase from her even gently patted her hand.

Her voice, for once, was soft.

"Forget it. Let’s go back. Your hands are freezing."

Xiao Tong was stunned, stumbling to keep up as she followed Yu Qinghan back into the building. Maybe… maybe Yu Qinghan felt a little guilty too.

Guilt was good.

Xiao Tong walked behind her, head lowered, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

If she felt guilty, she wouldn’t dare say Xiao Tong was too dirty to be near.