Editor’s Note: The following story by Hikaru Lee 李屏瑤 is part of a notebook Queer Time, co-edited by Ta-wei Chi and Ariel Chu, which gathers contemporary queer Taiwanese literature in translation. To read the full Queer Time collection, visit its home here.

To read Kittie Yang’s English translation, click here.

百年百合

　　第一步總是最困難。

　　林雅婷想了半天，在暱稱欄打出：「Gina」。她不知道為什麼是Gina，她的身邊也不認識Gina，自己的臉好像長得不像Gina？總之在一切的無以名狀中，敷著面膜的、剛滿27歲的林雅婷，在凌晨三點的交友app介面中，決定現在要叫Gina。

　　接下來應該會簡單一點了。

　　似乎並沒有。她盯著興趣欄放空，憑直覺寫下，單戀。不對，這不對，她刪掉。母胎單身的她，的確非常非常擅長單戀。如果單戀有錢賺，靠著她一心一德一次一個的虔誠路數，她現在應該是單戀富比世冠軍。又離題了，趕快想興趣！

　　看書？現代人已經不看書了，而且喜歡這點的人可能是同業，先不要。爬山？聽起來很棒但她其實一年就爬一次左右。美食？會不會被誤會是網美，或者很喜歡去打卡名店。

　　選擇安全牌好了，她寫「電影」。幹，超普通。

　　凌晨的自我厭惡迴圈。手機跳出通知，喬的訊息：「還沒刷到妳！」她回：「快了啦不要催（哭臉）。」喬又傳：「我好興奮，剛剛失手按了一堆愛心，妳快來！」附上一張貓咪照，說可以借她用。

　　終於到達挑選照片的環節，化身成Gina的林雅婷已經有點理智斷線。她的手機裡幾乎沒有自己的照片，倒是充滿機車的照片。真的機車，literally機車。租屋處附近太多小巷弄，如果不拍起來她會忘記把車停在哪。整本相簿，都是各種角度的機車照。她一邊抓狂一邊刪除照片。

　　喬又來訊：「有貓的照片一百分，真的。」

　　她心中產生一絲絲的動搖，但這太接近詐騙了。她選了某個工作中的側面照，跟一張風景照，系統要她再傳一張，她迫不得已，傳了貓照。有適合的照片她一定換掉，這是緊急狀況，不算欺騙。最後，她按了送出。

　　Gina正式上線。

　　雖然不是她的名字，也不是她的貓。

　　刷新系統，在方圓3公里內，有100多人。不愧，是永和，台北市中心的衛星城市。叮聲立刻響起，那是收到愛心的通知，她以為是喬，點開看是個陌生的貓照，滑過對方檔案內的系列照片，都沒有臉。不過人在江湖混，也是理解世事的，她給回一個愛心。她沿路看下去，不忘留下愛心的軌跡，將新手上路得到的30個愛心發送完畢。

　　滑到熟悉的臉孔。喬放的是正面燦笑照，在茫茫貓海中一支獨秀，她沒有愛心可以給喬了，就放在心裡吧。叮聲又響，這次是愛心加訊息，點開是喬：「誰是Gina哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈哈」她回：「請正確使用標點符號。」喬回：「.」她再回：「請愛用中文的句號，不要偷懶用英文的。」

　　OK好，林雅婷提醒自己，大家都是大人了，不要意氣用事。今日工事已畢，Gina先退駕，林雅婷轉鬧鐘、睡覺。

*

　　人性實在他媽的脆弱，她現在已經會照三餐打開app了，謝謝喬大。

　　午餐時間，趁著一起吃飯的同事去廁所的空檔，她打開調成靜音的app。雖然定位系統不太精確，她還是不敢在公司打開，畢竟她聽過男同志朋友打開app，有人距離0m的恐怖故事。答案揭曉，是同一棟樓的鄰居，坐電梯即可達，產地直送的一炮，還可以回自家洗澡。公司附近又有許多新的側臉、新的貓臉、新的風景照，上人數頗多。為了不想花錢買愛心點數，她近日決定分配配額，午餐可以給10個愛心，晚餐10個，睡前再10個。

　　她開始試著主動傳訊，或是在回訊的時候多斟酌，盡量讓話題繼續下去。遇到錯字，嗯，睜一隻眼閉一隻眼。

　　可是戀愛到底要怎麼開始呢？

　　林雅婷跟Gina去看了週末的早場電影，播放藝術片的小廳只有她一個人。片尾，韋瓦第的《四季》響起，女主角看著音樂廳另一端觀眾席上哭泣的愛人，她們也許不會再相見了。即使在同婚通過的這年看這部電影，林雅婷仍舊痛哭到有點難克制。她一度以為有別的觀眾，但沒有，她放膽地哭出了一點點聲音。走出戲院，找一家咖啡廳，坐在窗邊發呆，在人潮大批湧進前回家。也許就是這樣了吧，她想。母胎單身的她也想談一場完全燃燒的愛情，若不得，可能就是命吧。

　　在陽光燦爛的下午，獨居女子把套房的小陽台晾好晾滿，就是此刻能做到的最快樂的事。夜裡她上傳了一張劇照，她其實不太更新app裡的文章，因為覺得沒有人要看長文。迫切地想傾訴給也許不存在的觀眾，想往哪裡空投一封瓶中信，還有什麼比交友app更適合的呢？

　　隔日一早，她去二刷電影。早場的廳裡還是只有她一人。

　　這次能夠以全知的心情，重新看待一場戀愛。趁著燈亮之前擦乾眼淚，手機恰好震動。app裡有人回覆文章，她點進那個帳號，kotoko。帳號昨日新增的文章，跟她寫了同一部電影。她傳訊給對方，對方秒回。丟接非常愉快的聊天，是節奏適合的夥伴，互相餵球，有來有往。

　　「聊多久要約見面？」隔週，她傳訊問了喬。

　　「妳還沒有跟人約出來嗎？」喬問。

　　「對。」她答。

　　「我真的沒辦法了、、、」喬回，「！！！。。。」

　　「蛤？」

　　「就是太震驚，難怪妳的曖昧都無疾而終。」

　　「跟網友見面很緊張欸。還是先交換ig帳號或是line再說？」

　　「這麼私人的東西妳怎麼會想先給……」喬說完，補上一個傻眼貓咪的gif檔。

　　「我不懂這些遊戲規則（抱頭）。」

　　「就照、妳的、節奏吧。」

　　有天夜裡，kotoko傳了聲音訊息，說晚安。林雅婷也回傳。

　　「妳的聲音很不像Gina。」kotoko迅速回以文字。

　　「我亂取的……現在改還來得及嗎……本名實在太菜市場了……」

　　「我的名字，也很菜市場（握手）。」

　　app有點卡頓，林雅婷重新開啟。發現kotoko跟自己的距離為0m。很好，又有新bug。

　　「妳住在哪區啊？永和還是中和？」林雅婷問。

　　「區域的交界。」

　　「那好像很近，如果週末有空，要不要約面交？」以Gina之名，她咬牙送出這句，又補充：「上次跟妳講的那本書出了，可以給妳一本。」

　　「這個要求有點失禮，但可以給我電子檔嗎？我讀電子檔比較方便。」

　　「好啊。」

　　她們交換了e-mail，她想著碰面應該是無望。

　　「但是我很想見妳喔。」kotoko說，「很難以說明我現在的心情。我第一次有這種感覺，心裡覺得很困惑，又覺得，啊，果然是這樣。雖然一直沒有喜歡上誰，但我果然是喜歡女生的。」

　　林雅婷從床上翻身坐起，打開桌邊小燈，端正看著這段訊息，面紅耳赤不該如何回應。

　　「哈哈哈哈哈，先這樣，好孩子該睡了，晚安。」語畢，kotoko立即下線。

　　還沒有正式見面，戀愛早一步開始了。

　　Gina回到林雅婷，kotoko的本名是王秀琴。她們交換了比app個人檔案更清楚的照片，林雅婷坦承檔案裡的貓不屬於自己，聊起原生家庭，認同的掙扎，如何試著在日常生活或是網路找到同類。

　　kotoko的家教極度嚴格，甚至還被逼著去相親過許多次，她很少出門，主業是寫網路小說，林雅婷一看，是人氣跟品質都很不錯的百合作者。雖然想過很多次要離家出走，但都失敗。

　　大抵是熱戀帶來的勇氣吧，林雅婷問，要不要先搬來她的套房一起住。反正白天她都不在家，kotoko可以專心寫稿。之後的事，就邊走邊看。kotoko沉默了很久，說會有點麻煩。林雅婷說沒關係。

　　「真的有點麻煩，妳會怕的。」kotoko傳訊。

　　「不怕。」林雅婷回。

　　「給我兩個星期時間，我看一下日子。」

　　「？」

　　「就是，要看一下有沒有比較適合的日子。」

　　「看妳覺得怎樣比較好。」

　　林雅婷倒在床上，快樂到傳訊給喬。

　　「第一次戀愛就同居，好喔，這很女同志。」喬回，加上一個貓跳舞的圖。「她的家人是不是很可怕……妳們到時候小心一點……不要讓他們知道妳們住的地方！！！」

　　「好！」林雅婷回。

　　約好搬家的日子，天氣晴。林雅婷早起洗了衣服，想到kotoko說的好日子，Google了一下農民曆，果然是好日子。

　　「宜：嫁娶、開光、祭祀、祈福、求嗣、出行、解除、伐木、入宅、移徙、安床、出火、拆卸、修造、上樑、栽種」

　　她煮好一壺咖啡，等待kotoko抵達。雖說kotoko說東西很少，她清出了兩層書櫃跟幾個儲存格，如果還需要什麼，再去採買就是了。約定下午三點，她走下樓，沒看到人，於是她走到住家大門外窄窄的小巷，各種聲響湧入，但巷裡沒人。

　　「妳到了嗎？」她傳訊問。

　　「往前走。」kotoko回。

　　林雅婷往前走了幾步，還是沒人，在窄窄的，不容會車的，以各種方式斜插著機車的日常小巷裡，道路正中間，有點突兀地，放置著一個紅包袋。太陽還很烈，林雅婷剛下樓就出了薄薄的一身汗，說不上來，她突然有一種涼意。

　　而手機訊息又來了。

　　「如果方便的話，請妳撿起來。」kotoko說，「拜託了。」

　　林雅婷不確知自己為什麼會這樣做，有機車正要騎進小巷，她突然感覺，不想要那個紅包被輾過。她快步往前衝，機車騎士罵了一句髒話，避開她們快速騎走了。

　　她蹲下，以奇特虔誠的心情，輕輕捧起那個紅包袋。

　　袋裡有一小撮收束好的頭髮，旁邊有寫著數字的紙張，八字的主人，名為王秀琴。林雅婷想起從小到大聽過的都市傳說，髮束作為來自另一個世界的信物。她覺得天旋地轉，一時站不起來，乾脆坐在地上。

　　「對不起。」kotoko說，「如果不方便，真的沒有關係。」

　　訊息持續傳來，她沒有力氣再往下讀。她就坐著，柏油路的熱氣漫漫蒸暖她的尾椎。旁邊有人走來，出聲叫喚，她想說她沒事，開嘴了卻沒有聲音。聲音呢？她想。原來要用力才能讓人聽到自己的聲音。

　　她抬頭看，一對老夫妻站在她面前。她還是沒找到聲音，板著臉的老先生，將她手上的紅包跟紙片一把搶走。他們快步離開，老太太又回過身，拿走那撮頭髮。

　　再回神，有台車要開進小巷，按了喇叭看她不動，倒退開走。林雅婷坐在路中間，尚有點腿軟，所以她叫了uber，出發去找喬。

　　喬跟幾個朋友在東區聚餐，好心讓她加入，大家以為林雅婷初戀即失戀，呵護她一整個晚上。有熱鬧的餐廳當背景音，她打開訊息，裡面是滿滿的道歉。她想想也是，要講出這件事，可能比出櫃還難。

　　喬的朋友恰好因為換工作，去找通靈人算運勢。席間的話題轉為各種神秘故事。

　　林雅婷趁著空檔開口：「你們覺得同婚難還是冥婚難？」

　　有人率先回：「當然是同婚，今年五月才過的同婚，冥婚已經有幾千年歷史了吧，當同志比當鬼難多了。」

　　到家之後，小套房跟出門前一模一樣，咖啡早就變冷了。她想起自己跟家人出櫃的艱難過程。跟別人說自己是女同志難？還是跟別人說自己是女鬼難？好像很難分辨。

　　她坐回桌前，傳訊問，那現在該怎麼辦？妳爸媽好像不同意？

　　秀琴幾乎秒回，「我會繼續跟他們溝通……還有，那是我弟弟跟弟媳。」

　　林雅婷好像懂了什麼。

　　「妳幾年次？」

　　「37年次。」

　　「！」

　　「可以算是…..19歲吧……我也不知道……」

　　「星座呢？」

　　「我們那時候報戶口不準，冬天生的，可能是天蠍或是射手……」

　　「妳答案盡量講長一點。」

　　「為什麼？」

　　「不然我會覺得自己好像在玩碟仙。」

　　「哈哈哈哈哈哈哈妳很煩欸。」

　　林雅婷泡了一壺新的茶，刷新app，發現秀琴在距離自己略遠的地方。

　　「好啦，那接下來怎麼辦？家人好像不讓妳搬出來住。」

　　「妳不怕嗎？」

　　「說真的嗎？」

　　「嗯，請妳一定要對我說真話。」

　　「不怕。」

　　「我會去處理。以前沒有人在聽我講話，但現在不太是這樣。」

　　「會怎樣？」

　　「讓他們沒辦法睡覺。」

　　「有用嗎？」

　　「不然妳以為我怎麼拿到智慧型手機的。」

　　「原來真的可以用……」

　　週一到來，林雅婷如常上班，抽空跟秀琴傳訊。她本來想訂做一個紙紮電腦給對方，否則在手機寫稿太傷眼了，轉念一想，可能秀琴沒有這方面的困擾。不如到時候再觀察看看。

　　又是一個好日子，這次她穿得稍微正式，抵達秀琴家人指定的咖啡廳。來的是秀琴的弟弟弟媳，還有他們的女兒。弟弟的臉色不善，弟媳保持沉默，女兒反而非常親切，一把握住林雅婷的手，大聲地喊姑姑。新認的姪女約莫跟林雅婷的母親年紀相仿，她立刻請對方直呼名字就好。

　　談的事項很簡單，一切從簡，林雅婷收下原本的紅包，此次還加上幾張秀琴照片。

　　不是賣女兒，加上雙方都是女方，沒有嫁妝或是聘金的疑慮。弟弟拿出一小盒，內有一枚金戒指，是當初媽媽做好，想給女兒出嫁用的，就一併交給雅婷。她沒有刷新app看位置，但她能感覺秀琴就在旁邊那個特意空出的位置。最末，她跟姪女交換了line，姪女遞出一個紅包，說是簡單的賀禮，希望雅婷務必收下。

　　紅包跟戒指的重量都很輕，接近沒有存在感。她回到家，將這些物件放在櫃子上。然後打開前幾日買好的金紙爐，將她精心挑選的幾本書焚燒殆盡。

　　「謝謝！！！我已經好久沒讀到紙本書了！！！」秀琴說。

　　接近午夜，秀琴還沒有抵達。也許還在跑行政程序吧，畢竟，同婚是一件很新的事。

　　林雅婷坐在小沙發，打開新買的氣泡酒，幫秀琴多倒了一杯。接著轉開電視，想找部可以下酒的影集，有雙手輕輕覆蓋在她按著遙控器的手上，跟氣泡酒一樣清爽冰涼，觸感柔軟而實在。

Centennial Harmony, Centennial Lilies¹

　　The first step is always the hardest. 

　　Lin Yating ponders for a long while before typing “Gina” as her profile alias. She’s not sure how she came up with “Gina.” Certainly nobody around her is named “Gina,” and her own face doesn’t look much like a “Gina” either. But the twenty-seven-year-old Lin Yating, wearing an overnight face mask and scrolling through a dating app at 3 AM, has decided in this inexpressible state of anonymity that she will, from now on, call herself “Gina.”

　　It must get a bit easier from here.

　　But it doesn’t, really. She stares at the blank space under “Interests,” her mind empty, and intuitively writes, “Unrequited love.” No, that’s not right. She hits backspace. Having been single for all her life, she is indeed very, very proficient in the art of unrequited love. If there were money to be made in one-sided love affairs, she would’ve become a Forbes Billionaire of Unrequited Love by now, relying on her pious approach of “one heart and one mind,” crushing on one person at a time. Great, she’s going off topic again. Quick, think of a hobby!

　　How about “reading”? But people nowadays don’t even read. Plus, people who share this interest might work in the same industry as her. Scratch that. What about “hiking?” It sounds appealing, but she goes hiking just about once a year. She could also put “foodie.” But what if she gets mistaken for an influencer, or worse, one of those social media butterflies who posts about every popular restaurant they visit?

　　Let’s go with a safe label instead. She writes, “Movies.” Fuck, that’s super average.

　　Yating descends into her late-night cycle of self-loathing until a notification appears on her phone. It’s a text from Joe: How come I haven’t swiped your profile yet??

　　Yating: I’m almost done. Stop rushing me! (crying emoji)

　　Joe: I’m too psyched! My thumb just slipped, and I accidentally sent a bunch of hearts. Come save me!

　　Joe sends Yating a photo of her cat, says that she can borrow it to jazz up her profile. 

　　Finally, she makes it to the photo upload section. Reincarnated as Gina, Yating seems to have lost her senses. She practically has no photos of herself in her phone. Instead, it’s full of scooters. Like, pictures of literal scooters. Her apartment is surrounded by narrow alleyways, and she’ll simply get lost trying to find her parking spot if she doesn’t take pictures of where she last left her vehicle. Her album is chock-full of them—scooters from every imaginable angle. She half-loses her head frantically deleting all the photos.

　　Joe texts again: 100 points if you include a cat pic. For real.

　　She feels tempted by Joe’s words, but knows that posting someone else’s picture borders on deception. Instead, she selects a photo of her side profile taken at work and a landscape photo. The app prompts her to select one final picture, which practically leaves her with no other choice—she uploads Joe’s cat pic. Well, if she manages to get a better photo of herself, she’ll definitely swap it out. An emergency like this shouldn’t technically count as deception. At last, she hits “Confirm.” 

　　Gina is officially online.

　　Even though her name is not Gina, and she doesn’t even own a cat.

　　When the app refreshes, approximately 100 users appear within a 3 km radius. She wouldn’t expect any less from Yonghe District, a satellite city of Taipei. Immediately, a notification dings, alerting her of the heart she just received. She assumes it’s from Joe, but it turns out to be a stranger with a cat for a profile pic. Scrolling through the user’s photos, she can’t find a single face. But having been around the block herself, Yating knows how it is. She sends a heart back. Embarking down this new path, she makes sure to leave a trail of hearts and spends all thirty that she just received as a newbie.

　　Soon, she scrolls to a familiar face: Joe’s portrait shows a beaming smile, her profile a vibrant standout amidst a blurry sea of profiles with anonymous cat pictures. Yating has no hearts left and instead sends Joe her inward appreciation. Another ding—she just received a heart from Joe.

　　Joe: Who’s GINA??? Hahahahahahahahahahahaha

　　Yating: Kindly use correct punctuation.

　　Joe: .

　　Yating: Please use the appropriate Chinese period “。” Don’t use the English one, slacker.

　　Okay, we’re all adults here, Yating reminds herself. No need to lose her cool. Their work is done for today; Gina will retire from the driver’s seat. Yating sets her alarm clock and heads to sleep.

　　Human nature is so damn weak. She’s now checking the app as regularly as she takes her three meals. Thanks to Big Joe.

　　At lunch, she waits for her colleagues to head to the bathroom before checking the dating app, which she muted when she arrived at the office. Although the app’s GPS system isn’t exactly accurate, she is still afraid to open it at work. After all, she’s heard horror stories from gay friends who matched with profiles that were exactly 0 meters away. Mystery revealed: the profiles belonged to neighbors from their buildings, just a short elevator ride away. You could get your lay straight from the supplier, and even go home to take a shower. 

　　Many users emerge near her office with new side profile pictures, new cat faces, and new scenery photos. Since Yating refuses to shell out money buying hearts from the dating app, she decides to ration her daily quota. She permits herself to send 10 hearts at lunch, 10 at dinner, and another 10 before bed. 

　　Now she’s beginning to initiate more conversations, be deliberate in her replies, and try her best to keep the conversation going. If she encounters a typo? Well, she’ll turn a blind eye for now.

　　But how does love actually begin?

　　That weekend, Yating brings Gina along to a matinée at the movies. She is the lone person watching an art film in the small theater. Toward the end of the film, Vivaldi’s “Four Seasons” begins to play as the heroine gazes at her tear-filled lover across the concert hall, struck with the realization that they may never meet again. Although gay marriage has just been legalized this year, Yating can’t help but cry her heart out. She assumed all along that there were other members in the audience, but realizing she is alone, she boldly lets out a few audible sobs. After leaving the theater, she finds a café, sits staring out the window, then returns home before the crowds pour in. Maybe that’s just how it goes, she thinks. She wants a full-blown, flaming love affair, but if she can’t have one, then it’s probably just her fate. 

　　On a bright, sunny afternoon, the solitary bachelorette hangs her clothes up on the balcony, the happiest thing she can do for herself at that moment. Last night, she uploaded a film still as one of her profile pictures. Otherwise, she doesn’t update her posts much, because no one reads long posts anyway. But what’s a better place than a dating app to confess to a possibly non-existent audience, to cast a message in a bottle into the great unknown?

　　The next morning, she checks in at the theater for a second time. Again, she has the matinée all to herself.

　　This time, she can rewatch the love affair with omniscience, understanding everything that’s about to unfold. As she dries her tears before the lights come on, her phone buzzes. A user has responded to her post. She clicks on the profile: Kotoko. The page shows a post just updated yesterday, mentioning the same movie she just watched. Yating sends Kotoko a message, who replies within seconds. They carry on a pleasant conversation; she seems like a partner who matches Yating’s rhythm, who can keep the ball rolling with an enjoyable back and forth. 

　　“How long do you talk to someone before deciding to meet?” she asks Joe through text the following week.

　　“You mean you haven’t even gone on a date yet?” Joe asks.

　　“No.”

　　“I really don’t know what to do with you,,,,” Joe responds. “!!!。。。”

　　“Huh?”

　　“I’m flabbergasted. No wonder your flirtationships never go anywhere.” 

　　“It’s nervewracking to meet someone online. Should we add each other on Instagram or LINE first?”

　　“Why would you exchange something so personal from the get-go…” Joe adds a dumbfounded cat GIF. 

　　“I don’t know the rules of the game. (head in hands)”

　　“Just go at. Your own. Pace.”

　　Late one night, Kotoko sends Yating a voice message wishing her good night. Yating reciprocates. 

　　“You don’t sound like a Gina,” Kotoko immediately texts back.

　　“It’s a name I randomly came up with……Is it too late to change it?….My real name is quite…pedestrian.”

　　“My real name, it’s also very pedestrian. (handshake)”

　　The app freezes for a second. Yating restarts it and suddenly sees that Kotoko is 0 meters away. Great, a new bug in the app.

　　“Which district do you live in? Yonghe or Zhonghe?” Yating asks.

　　“Just on the border between both.”

　　“That’s pretty close to me. If you’re free this weekend, do you want to meet up?” In the name of Gina, Yating grits her teeth and hits send. She quickly adds, “The book I mentioned last time is out now… I can give you a copy.”

　　“At the risk of sounding impolite…can you send me the eBook version? Electronic files are more convenient for me.”

　　“Okay, sure.”

　　They exchange emails. Yating guesses that they have no hope of meeting.

　　“But I really do want to see you,” Kotoko says. “It’s hard to put my feelings into words, but it’s the first time I’ve felt like this. On one hand, I’m conflicted, but on the other, I just knew it. Even though I’ve never really liked anyone in particular, I knew it all along…that I like girls.” 

　　Yating rolls over and sits up in bed. She turns on her desk lamp and looks squarely at the message. Her face turns red; she suddenly doesn’t know how to respond.

　　“Hahahaha. Let’s call it a night. Time for bed, child. Good night.” The conversation ends. Kotoko immediately signs off. 

　　They haven’t even officially met, and love has arrived one step early.

　　Gina reverts back to Yating once more. In the next few days, Kotoko reveals that her name is Wang Xiuqin. They exchange photos clearer than the ones in the app. Yating admits that the cat picture isn’t hers. They chat about their extended family, shared struggles, and attempts to find like-minded people both online and in real life. Xiuqin was brought up in an extremely conservative family. They even forced her into matchmaking many times. She doesn’t get out much, and her main occupation is writing online novels. Yating quickly looks up her name and finds that Kotoko seems to be a fairly popular, well-rated yuri author. Although Kotoko has contemplated running away from home a few times, she somehow always fails to act. 

　　Perhaps being in love has given Yating a new wave of courage. She asks Kotoko if she wants to move in with her. After all, Yating is rarely home during the day, so Kotoko can concentrate on writing in her studio apartment. After that, they’ll take it step by step. Kotoko is silent for a while, then says that she doesn’t want to inconvenience her. Yating says it isn’t a problem at all.

　　“Really, I don’t want to be a bother. It’ll scare you away,” Kotoko texts.

　　“It won’t,” Yating replies.

　　“Give me two weeks. I’ll consult my calendar.”

　　“?”

　　“I mean, I’ll try to see which day is better for moving.”

　　“All right, it’s up to you.”

　　Yating collapses into bed, feeling so giddy that she texts Joe.

　　“Already moving in on the first date? Damn, Gina. That’s very lesbian of you,” Joe responds, adding a dancing cat GIF. “Is her family intimidating?…You better be careful……don’t let them know where you live!”

　　“Will do!” Yating says.

　　The weather is sunny on their agreed move-in date. Yating wakes up early to do laundry. Thinking of Kotoko’s arrival date, she Googles the Chinese farmer’s almanac; indeed, it is an auspicious day.

　　“Auspicious for: Wedding, consecration, ancestor worship, blessings, seeking heirs, travel, exorcism, lumbering, moving in, residence relocation, matrimonial bed-setting, incense installation, demolition, renovation, raising beam, field planting.”

　　She brews a pot of coffee and waits for Kotoko to arrive. Although Kotoko said that she won’t be bringing a lot of things, Yating still cleared out two shelves and a few cubbies. If Kotoko needs anything else, they can simply go shopping. They agreed to meet at three in the afternoon. Yating heads downstairs, but doesn’t see anyone at the front entrance. She steps out into the narrow alley outside her apartment, the cacophony of the city flooding in. The alley is empty. 

　　“Are you here yet?” Yating texts.

　　“Keep walking,” Kotoko replies.

　　Yating takes a few steps forward, but still, there isn’t a soul in sight. In the middle of the alley, which is so narrow it can barely fit a car, so narrow she has to try all sorts of diagonal maneuvers just to slip in her scooter, she suddenly spots a red envelope lying on the ground. The sun is blazing overhead. Yating was already covered in a thin film of sweat as soon as she came downstairs, but for some reason, she now feels a chill climb up her back.

　　Her phone buzzes again.

　　“If you can, please pick it up,” Kotoko says. “Please.” 

　　Just then, a scooter turns into the alley. Yating’s not sure why she responds the way she does. She has the sudden feeling that the red envelope will get run over and immediately charges forward. The rider lets out a curse, narrowly dodges her, and speeds off. 

　　Yating bends down. She gently picks up the red envelope with both hands, her mood peculiarly reverent. 

　　The envelope contains a small lock of hair, along with a slip of paper with several numbers on it. The owner of the Eight Characters² is Wang Xiuqin. Yating remembers an urban legend she heard growing up—a lock of hair is a token from the underworld. The sky above her begins to spin. Unable to stand, Yating simply sits down on the ground.

　　“I’m sorry,” Kotoko says. “I understand if it’s a burden.”

　　The texts continue buzzing, but Yating has lost the energy to read on. She simply sits on the road, the steam from the tarmac warming up her tailbone. A pedestrian comes forward, calls out to her. Yating wants to say that she’s all right, but when she opens her mouth, no sound emerges. Where is my voice? she wonders. She realizes the strength it takes to make one’s voice heard.

　　Yating looks up and sees an old couple standing before her. She still hasn’t found her voice. The stony-faced old man snatches the red envelope and paper slip from her hands. They hurry off. The old lady turns back and retrieves the lock of hair from Yating’s grip.³

　　Yating comes back to herself and spots a car turning into the alley. It honks at her, but she doesn’t move. The car backs up and drives away. Sitting in the middle of the road, Yating feels her legs grow weak. She calls an Uber and heads out to find Joe.

　　Joe is having dinner with a few friends at the East District, and they are all kind enough to let her join. They all assume that Yating experienced her first love and heartbreak and dote over her the entire evening. Amid the restaurant’s background bustle, she checks her text messages and finds it filled with apologies. In a way, Yating understands. Divulging this truth is perhaps harder than coming out. 

　　Joe’s friend happens to be switching jobs and visited a psychic to have her fortune told. The conversation turns to various stories of supernatural occurrences.

　　Yating uses the conversational opening to ask, “What’s more difficult? Gay marriage or ghost marriage?”

A friend takes the lead in answering, “Gay marriage, of course.  It was only legalized in May this year. Ghost marriages have existed for thousands of years. It’s harder to be queer than to be a ghost.”

　　Returning home, Yating finds her apartment the same way she had left it. The coffee has long gone cold. She recalls the struggle of coming out to her family. Is it more difficult to tell people that you’re a lesbian or more difficult to tell people that you’re dead? It seems hard to tell the difference.

　　She sits back at her desk and asks Kotoko, “So what now? It seems like your parents don’t approve?”

　　Xiuqin’s reply comes within seconds. “I’ll keep talking to them…Also, that was my younger brother and sister-in-law.”

　　Yating seems to gradually understand. 

　　“What year were you born?”

　　“1937.”

　　“!”

　　“I guess I’m…19 years old? I don’t really know…”

　　“And your horoscope?”

　　“Birth registrations weren’t very accurate back then. I was born in the winter, so maybe I’m a Scorpio or Sagittarius?”

　　“Can you write longer responses, please?”

　　“Why?

　　“Otherwise, I feel like I’m playing Ouija.”

　　“Hahahahahahaha, you’re such a pain.”

　　Yating brews a new pot of tea and refreshes the app. Xiuqin’s distance from her seems to have widened. 

　　“All right, so what are you planning next? Seems like your family doesn’t to want to let you move out.”

　　“Aren’t you scared?”

　　“You want the truth?”

　　“Yes, please always tell me the truth.”

　　“I’m not scared.”

　　“I’ll take care of it. They used to not listen to me much, but I make sure that’s not the case anymore.”

　　“What happens if they don’t listen?”

　　“I won’t let them sleep.”

　　“Does that work?”

　　“How do you think I managed to get a smartphone?”

　　“Who knew that could even work…”

　　On Monday, Yating heads to work as usual and texts Xiuqin in her spare time. She wants to send Xiuqin a custom-made joss paper⁴ computer; otherwise, writing manuscripts on her phone might hurt her eyes. But on second thought, maybe Xiuqin doesn’t struggle with typing on a small screen. Yating will have to wait and see. 

　　It’s another auspicious day. This time, Yating dresses a little more formally and arrives at the café Xiuqin’s family picked. Xiuqin’s brother, sister-in-law, and their daughter are there to meet her. The brother’s expression is unfriendly, the sister-in-law remains silent, but their daughter turns out to be the friendly one. She takes Yating’s hand in an enthusiastic handshake and calls her “Auntie.” This newly acquainted niece is about Yating’s mother’s age. Yating tells the niece to simply call her by name.

　　The discussion is simple. Every agreement is simple. Yating accepts the original red envelope, which now includes a few photographs of Xiuqin.

　　They’re not exactly selling their daughter, and since both parties are brides, there is no need to worry about the dowry or bride price. The brother takes out a box containing a gold ring that their mother once made for her daughter’s wedding. He entrusts it to Yating. She hasn’t yet refreshed the app’s user location, but she can feel that Xiuqin is standing in the empty space Yating left for her. Lastly, she exchanges LINE numbers with the niece, who presents her with a red envelope. She says it’s a simple wedding gift. Yating must accept it. 

　　The red envelope and ring are both so weightless they seem nonexistent. When Yating returns home, she places these mementos on her dresser. She opens the golden joss paper burner she bought a few days before and burns the few books that she had carefully hand-picked.

　　“Thank you!!!” Xiuqin writes to her through text. “I haven’t read a physical book in so long!”

　　Close to midnight, Xiuqin has not yet arrived. Perhaps she is still handling the bureaucratic affairs. After all, same-sex marriage is still a fairly new procedure.

　　Yating sits down on her small sofa and opens a newly purchased bottle of champagne, pouring an extra glass for Xiuqin. She turns on the TV and searches for a movie that goes well with wine. Soon, she feels the lightness of a hand press gently against her own on the remote, as cool and refreshing as champagne, soft and tangible to the touch.

^{1 The original title 百年百合 is a pun on the common wedding greeting 百年好合 (Literal: Hundred Years Good Harmony). It roughly translates to “May you be joined in harmony for a hundred years.” The author replaced “Good Harmony” with “Lily” 百合 (Literal: Hundred Harmony) since “lily” has become synonymous in Chinese for “lesbian.” It originated from the Japanese yuri genre, which also literally translates to “lily.”} 

^{2 Eight Characters (八字 bazi) refers to a person’s birth date based on the traditional Stem-and-Branch (干支ganzhi) Calendar often used in fortune-telling, especially to determine a couple’s compatibility before marriage.}

^{3 Based on the Taiwanese tradition of ghost marriages, the family of an unmarried, deceased daughter will place a red envelope containing her hair, nails, and Eight Characters birth date on the side of the street. If a man happens to pick up the red envelope, the family will jump out and shout “Congratulations!” They will then bring the man’s Eight Characters to a fortune teller to inquire about the deceased daughter’s wishes. It is common knowledge in Taiwan that one should be wary of picking up red envelopes lying on the street.} 

^{4 Joss paper (or incense paper) is a representative form of money or material goods that families burn as an offering to deceased ancestors. This ensures that the deceased’s needs are taken care of in the afterlife.}