My Story with the Hairstylist

Speaking of Joan, I've met her about twenty times! (Twice in a motel bed, the rest at a hair salon.)

Does Joan look good with her hair? Not bad, I'd say. I even brought my girlfriend to get her hair cut (I insisted), but she thought it looked bad and never saw Joan again.

Some say, "A good rabbit doesn't eat the grass near its burrow," because the grass near the burrow is dangerous; if a rabbit eats it, it reduces its hiding place and exposes its whereabouts. However, to me, that's just comforting words.

"Pluck the flower while it's in bloom," the grass near the burrow is certainly delicious, it's a pity not to eat it. That kind of unspeakable secret has a unique flavor. Perhaps someone is attracted to a certain office lady at work, but says, "Eating the grass near the burrow is too dangerous, what if it gets exposed!" That's just an excuse to comfort oneself when you can't have it. If you're afraid of the heat, don't go into the kitchen.

I've had my share of affairs with women in my neighborhood, and many of them I've even been intimate with. These illicit affairs are known only to heaven, earth, her, and me—except for the women themselves. Yet, I remain unperturbed, and nothing happens to me. Of course! One must plan carefully before acting; the wisdom of the person involved needs to be tested, not act rashly.

Last month, I called "Qiong" to get a haircut, but unexpectedly… she quit her job (that heartless bastard, I had no prior knowledge). She switched careers and went back to Taichung to sell bags. When I asked her why she didn't continue in the hairdressing industry, she said she'd think about it later; perhaps working in the same job for too long leads to burnout!

Last week, I went to Taichung and asked her out for dinner. I jokingly scolded her, "You didn't even say goodbye before leaving, that's not very nice of you."

Qiong laughed and said, "Oh, aren't we close?"

(Damn it! We've slept together twice and we're not close? Well, that's true, sleeping together is just superficial, there's no connection on a deeper level.)

"What will I do when I need a haircut after you leave?"

The cool Qiong said with a half-smile, "I can introduce a friend to cut your hair."

(No way, this isn't KFC.)

To be honest, Qiong and I don't have much in common. Some people especially like peaches, some like apples, bananas, mangoes, guavas... some people like to eat any kind of fruit (with a few exceptions, like durian). Qiong isn't a particularly popular fruit, more like an unknown fruit, smells fragrant, doesn't look unappetizing, doesn't make you want to eat a lot, but makes you want to try the taste.

------------------------------------------------------------ (Memoir begins)

Many years ago, I drove to a chain hair salon in Tainan City. Because parking was difficult, I squeezed in diagonally from the entrance
. Shortly after entering, a woman bossed me around, demanding I move my car. She was quite assertive, and although I was inwardly
suspicious, I had no choice but to comply.

After moving the car and getting a seat, the woman approached me and asked, "Do you have a preferred stylist?" It was my
first time there, and I didn't know any stylists. Although this woman was disrespectful, she was also cool and stylish.
Without thinking, I immediately asked, "Are you a stylist too?" She nodded. I then said, "Go ahead
and cut it!"

During the haircut, I barely spoke to the woman. Although I had a wicked heart, I maintained a respectable appearance.
Despite my quick wit, I chose to remain silent in this situation. Occasionally, I would steal glances at her in the mirror, but my actions were always polite and restrained
; I dared not overstep my bounds.

What kind of girl was she? Petite, about 158 cm tall, with her long hair neatly styled
in an updo; casually dressed in white low-waisted trousers, cinched with a thin belt, paired with a loose-fitting light yellow plaid short-sleeved
shirt, her hands adorned with decorative jewelry; her skin wasn't fair, but it was slender and delicate, likely due to infrequent outdoor activities and
careful skincare; her oval face was slightly thin, with delicate, arched eyebrows and bright, expressive eyes that held a hint of
aloofness, making her unapproachable. Overall, she was above average in appearance.

After getting her hair done and paying, as I was about to leave, the woman didn't offer me her business card. I thought to myself, "See!
She doesn't know how to do business. She doesn't want me to come back. I should treat her politely to avoid being disliked." I still asked for the designer's business card, which read "Joanne" ( a pseudonym
to protect the person in question ). 　　Time flies, and day after day, I went to "Qiong's" hairdresser every two or three months. I had no ulterior motives; of all the beauties in the world, I only sought a few. I simply thought her haircuts weren't bad, and it became a habit, without any real interest in Qiong. 　　I've known Qiong for two or three years, but we've had very little interaction. I've never invited her out privately, only calling to make an appointment beforehand to confirm she's working. That's all. Through these dozen or so haircuts, I've noticed some clues . 　　Qiong is from Taichung, but came to Tainan because of her job there. She doesn't have much entertainment outside of work, mostly watching TV to pass the time. Qiong is much younger than she looks; perhaps because she dropped out of vocational high school and immediately started working, she's become quite worldly. At this age, most people are still in college, in a carefree, pretentious phase , but Qiong has already been working for several years. 　　I rarely talk to Qiong. During each haircut, I'm usually engrossed in watching TV, and any conversation we have is just rambling. Sometimes when I go to Qiong's salon, I pass by Starbucks, and out of affection for her, I buy her a coffee and a small cake, which she happily accepts. Over time, Qiong smiles more when we chat. It's not that I have any ulterior motives towards her; I just want to interact with her more, otherwise her always cold gaze is really awkward. 　　I also understand that Qiong doesn't dislike me, and I think it would be easy to become friends with her. However, our relationship is limited to customer and shopkeeper. Qiong isn't my ideal type, and I don't have any special feelings for her, not to mention that Qiong is naturally guarded . I have no chance of making a move rashly. Fifty-fiftychance! 　　One day, the younger brother, on a whim, decided to test Qiong's feelings. He secretly thought pursuing Qiong might be difficult due to the age and personality differences, and he had no intention of doing so. However, if he could create a romantic atmosphere with Qiong, and if the method was right and the tone was tactful, it was worth a try. 　　He picked up his phone and sent a nonsensical text message: "Qiong, I have a question, I'm sorry to ask, but what brand of cigarettes do you smoke?" 　　During the haircut, he could smell a faint cigarette odor on Qiong's hands, confirming her smoking habit. So he sent this seemingly incomprehensible message to see if Qiong would reply. This was crucial, a kind of pre-rebellion indicator. 　　The result… no reply. Good for her! Let's leave it at that for now.

A while later, my younger brother's hair grew long, so he went to Qiong's again. Qiong mentioned to me whether I had texted
her last time. I asked Qiong what brand of cigarettes she smoked, and she replied that she always washed her hands thoroughly, and I
could even smell it! In short, one asked one question, the other gave a vague answer, seemingly unrelated, but I knew one thing in my heart:
Qiong had indeed taken my words to heart.

Now, let's foreshadow the next move…

I casually told Qiong that there had been recent personnel changes at the company, and I might be transferred to the Taipei headquarters. Qiong
didn't show any particular expression, replying with an "Oh." I thought to myself: 'See! This one's emotionless; the coldness
instantly drops five degrees.'

Back at my place, I thought, hair salons are everywhere; if I mess up, I can just go to another one . In my boredom
, I decided to go all in! I wrote a very direct text message, getting straight to the point.

The younger brother wrote: "Qiong, I've known you for many years, and I've always thought you were like a charming young woman, fresh yet alluring
. I'm leaving Tainan next month for work in the north, and I hope to create some beautiful memories with you. I'd like to invite you to
the Green Inn Motel for a heart-to-heart talk. Whether you like it or not, I hope you can give me a response. If there has to be a price
, I'm happy to pay. Please don't misunderstand, I know you're not a casual person, and you
know I'm not a bad person, I just like you so much, and because I'm leaving Tainan soon, I'm acting
so directly."

My thinking is simple: I'll just take a gamble. It doesn't matter if it doesn't work out. Anyway, Qiong and I have no connection, so
I'm not nervous or particularly expectant. I've cast my line; whether someone takes the bait or not isn't that important. It mainly
depends on the other person's expectations. Some people need to develop gradually; haste makes waste. As for Qiong, I really don't want to
waste time on her. Based on my observations of her, I'll just gamble on "feasibility" and "probability."

Around 10 PM, I received a text message from Qiong for the first time in my life. She told me what was wrong with me and not to overthink things
. Having witnessed the previous incident where she didn't reply to my nonsensical text message, I felt there was plenty of opportunity. The flare had been lit, and
the barrage of attacks was inevitable.

I dialed Qiong's number…

"Beep…beep…"

"Answer it!"

But it went unanswered.

Ten minutes later, I dialed again…

thank goodness, Qiong answered. I didn't mention the text message at all, and asked Qiong if she wanted to go to the garden
night market. Qiong readily agreed. I thought to myself, Qiong probably already considered that if I didn't give her a chance, she probably
wouldn't even answer the phone!

We arranged a meeting place, picked her up, and went to the night market to eat. This was my first time going out with Qiong.

We strolled around for a while, without mentioning the text message at all. Leaving the night market and walking to the sidewalk, Qiong
took out a cigarette from her bag. After she took a puff, I asked her if I could share hers. (Sorry
, I'm being silly again.) Qiong told me to take one myself, why smoke hers? (Actually, I've
basically quit smoking, I just wanted to smoke hers.)

I lit a cigarette and abruptly asked Qiong about the text message, wondering what she was thinking. Qiong isn't a shy
girl; since she agreed to come out, I think she had her reasons. We rationally and maturely agreed on three rules, discussing our responsibilities and obligations
, and walked hand in hand into the hostel next to the night market—this was the first time I held Qiong's hand.

Arriving at the room, I thoughtfully opened the door for Qiong, took her slippers upstairs, inserted the room key, and lazily lay down on the bed,
while Qiong sat in a chair, smoking. I wasn't in a hurry to rebel. I chatted with Qiong about everything under the sun—life,
feelings, work notes…

Qiong came out tonight wearing a pastel t-shirt and matching Puma athletic pants. She was bare-faced, without
makeup, and wore no jewelry, just a stylish watch and sequined
flip-flops.

After chatting for a while, I patted the edge of the bed, gesturing for Qiong to sit beside me. I sat up and sat next to her,
my right arm around her waist, my left hand intertwined with her right, our breaths warm and sweet, as if the Arctic icebergs were slowly melting.
Encouraged by Qiong, the two went to the bathroom to wash up, then returned to bed, where they inevitably engaged in a passionate encounter…

I, the younger brother, am not particularly skilled; I value the spirit of the sword more than its techniques. I enjoy Qiong's jade-like fingers and slender arms encircling my neck
, her sitting on me, indulging in unrestrained pleasure, her breath sweet and alluring, her movements graceful and captivating. I, on the other hand,
adhere to the incantation of the "Nine Yang Divine Skill": Let him be strong, the breeze still caresses the mountain; let him be fierce, the moon still shines over the great river;
let him be ruthless, I have enough inner energy, hoping to make a good first impression on Qiong.

I also enjoy having Qiong lie on my left arm, while my right hand is never idle, my fingers lightly flicking and caressing her skin, stimulating Qiong's
most sensitive nerves. Qiong's desire is revealed in her soft, gentle words. After

a brief exchange of swordplay, the fragrant mist dampens her hair, and the scent of petals wafts through the air. I feel Qiong's call from outer space. Although Qiong was petite
, her figure was perfectly proportioned, and her legs were exquisitely beautiful. At this moment, I, without hesitation, used the "Wild Horse Parts Its
Mane" move from Tai Chi, chanting the incantation "Moses Parts the Red Sea," and parted her jade-like legs with both hands. A paradise on earth
appeared before my eyes, not allowing the lonely city to gaze longingly at the Jade Gate Pass. Inheriting the will of Yue Fei, I drove my chariot, shattering the Helan Mountains,
my righteous indignation poured forth! ...

After a brief skirmish, both armies rested, moved by the compassion of all living beings, and turned swords into plowshares,
establishing a treaty of surrender with the enemy. Strangely enough, despite winning the battle, they had to pay reparations. So be it! A blessing for the people.

Qiong's performance was quite subpar, but there is something in this world called feeling, and feeling is difficult
to quantify, difficult to measure in monetary terms!

Unable to sleep in the middle of the night, I drove to 7-Eleven to buy a beer. The feeling of drinking it while driving, especially on a midsummer night,
was refreshingly cool—a feeling different from buying a whole bunch of beer and putting it in the fridge. Qiong is a hairstylist
; I simply mustered the courage at the right time and in the right place to do what I felt I should do
.

After a short rest, we looked at each other without getting tired of each other. Time didn't allow, so we left the rest stop. I didn't hold Qiong's hand again; perhaps
she didn't want me to.

After dropping Qiong off at her rented apartment, Qiong said to me, "You're not going to talk nonsense, are you?" I smiled, everything
understood without words.

The movie ended just like that, and of course, I didn't go to work in the north afterward, which didn't surprise Qiong. I still went
to see Qiong whenever my hair grew long. Life goes on, things continue as usual; life is a long and continuous process of accumulation, it won't
end because of a momentary encounter. We were just two unrelated parallel lines. Later, I deliberately took a detour, and
finally our paths intersected at some point, before we went our separate ways.

---------------------------------------------------------------- (A year later)

That day, I planned to go to "Qiong's" hairdresser. Speaking of Qiong, I was both familiar and unfamiliar with her
. Familiar because I had slept with her, unfamiliar because we had no interaction, except for calling her to make an appointment before getting a haircut.

When I first met Joan, I thought she was pretty. Back then, she was very aloof and cool
towards me. After we got to know each other better, she became less aloof and often smiled. We had broken down the barriers, and I felt she held no attraction for me
; she was just an average person.

I've known her for many years and have had her cut my hair a dozen or twenty times, but I've never seen her wear a skirt. It's been
over a year since I last slept with her. The experience wasn't bad, but it didn't tempt me to ask her out again. Joan and I are
incompatible; we rarely have anything in common. Even after we slept together, I've seen her a few more times (for haircuts), and our interactions
remain the same, unchanged by our physical intimacy.

That day, on a whim, I called to ask if she was free. She said, "I'm free now, what time are you coming?"
I said I didn't want a haircut, but rather to ask her to go to the night market. I'd only ever asked her to go to the night market once before (the time we slept together), and
that day, I casually asked her to go again, and she readily agreed.

After she got off work, the two of us appeared at the "Garden Night Market," briefly strolled through a few rows, and I asked her if we could rekindle our
relationship. I wasn't nervous at all, nor was I particularly excited; asking her to bed felt no different than asking her to get a haircut.

She said she was "willing" to accept my invitation, and I quoted the same price as last time, which she nodded.
I'm not enthusiastic about sex that requires payment, but I was too lazy to spend time dealing with her. If I
treated her like a lover, given my confidence in her, it wouldn't be difficult to achieve, but I was a bit tired and didn't want to put in the effort. I
preferred a mutually acceptable approach, one where she didn't feel cheated, and I didn't have to bear the burden of a bad reputation.

"Qiong" didn't have a boyfriend, and I was curious how a woman without a boyfriend for so long managed her sexual needs
. Perhaps I was overthinking it; men and women are structurally different, and perhaps she could find satisfaction through masturbation. I didn't ask her. I

rarely spoke to her; our interactions were always very brief and reserved. Her life is simple; she spends most of her time
working, never goes online, and rarely goes shopping or travels. Her social circle is small. Although she often has opportunities to meet male clients
, she remains single. Sometimes I even question her sexuality, but since she asked me to introduce her to a boyfriend, she probably
likes men.

She's not very old; she started earning money after graduating from junior high school, working her way up from a junior assistant to a designer.
She probably wouldn't be interested in boys or students without financial stability, after all, she's been self-reliant for years, and practicality is definitely
a factor in her decision.

I analyze her personality, but I have no desire to pursue her. That day was ordinary; I was a little distracted
, our frequencies didn't match, and I couldn't connect with her. I was somewhat perfunctory towards her, even hoping to leave quickly.
Suddenly, I felt that she had absolutely nothing to attract me now.
I was also inexplicably confused about why we were there; I didn't know what I liked about her. Some girls, even if they're not your ideal
type, you still want to flirt with them. Perhaps that's just life!

I'll still go to her for haircuts, but I won't sleep with her, and we'll remain friends.

------------------------------------------------------------- (Back to the present)

Last week I asked Joan, "Want to find a place to leave a mark?" (In other words, I wanted to sleep with her; the first two times I'd paid the price).

Actually, my desire wasn't that strong at the time; I was just being cheeky and said

"okay." Joan readily agreed.

This time, however, it was my turn to back out. I really didn't want to waste money on her; I was sexually uninterested.

I deliberately teased her, saying, "No, I'm out of money, and I didn't bring my debit card. Can I pay by card?"

Joan glared at me and said, "Who said I was going to charge you?" (Right, I always gave her money first).

Now, I couldn't bring myself to do it. I clearly messed things up, and she agreed, but I backed out at the last minute. When she was willing to throw herself at me, my male pride prevented me from taking advantage of her.

I'm a good person, and to break the ice, I reluctantly agreed to go to a boutique hotel together (okay! I admit I did want to a little bit too).

Qiong isn't used to taking the initiative, and she hasn't changed. Before, when I got my hair cut, if the other girls were busy and Qiong washed my hair, she mostly did a perfunctory job (I prefer the girls to wash my hair; they're thorough, energetic, and long-lasting). She's the same in bed; she'll give me a few light licks and then want to lie down like a dead fish. Naturally, I won't let her, and I'll push her out and start over.

Qiong is very inexperienced and cold in bed. I suspect her upbringing has made her wary of men. I've never dared to ask, nor do I want to. If she went to a brothel, she'd probably be kicked out by customers in a few days. She's not the kind of girl who can tolerate being treated like a man.

I've wondered, strangely enough! Why can't I sense any genuine affection from Qiong? It doesn't make sense (stop trying to flatter myself). Perhaps, I've never let Qiong feel that I genuinely like her.

Actually, she used to be right beside me, I could reach out to her anytime, but I couldn't muster the energy. Now that she's far away, I find myself missing her. If one day I could only take one woman to a deserted island to spend the rest of my life, who would I take?

A pretty one, who would I brag to on the island?

A hot and resilient one, there's plenty of time, why rush?

A gentle and virtuous one, to cook for me?

A wild and shrewish one, wouldn't arguing on a deserted island be more interesting?

The best would be a pretty, hot, resilient, gentle, and skilled one, who could also be wild and shrewish at times for role-playing—that would be perfect.

……………………………………………

(Fool! Would a woman like that go to a deserted island with you!?)

……………………………………………

The stars in the sky are many, the moon is dim; the people on earth are many, their hearts are unsettled; the fish in the river are many, the water is murky—the human heart is truly contradictory.

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