Chapter 30
The chill in the air dissipated as they sat in the car.
They had spent a while in the office. It would be past eleven by the time they got home. Lu Yin had an early class tomorrow, which meant another early commute.
Lin Qianqian knew she was taking up Lu Yin’s time, making her life more difficult, but she felt no guilt.
She was selfish, wanting nothing more than to be with Lu Yin constantly.
If Lu Yin wasn’t going home, she would sleep in the employee dorm with her.
Lu Yin didn’t know her intentions. If Lin Qianqian had hinted, even subtly, that she wanted Lu Yin to come home, Lu Yin would have.
She wanted to be with Lin Qianqian too, to make up for the lost four years.
Lu Yin felt like the hardships she had endured had atoned for her past sins.
As a child, Lu Sui had instilled in her the belief that art was paramount, while Lu Yin had prioritized her own desires.
So, she had added Lin Qianqian to her list of priorities, alongside painting.
She wasn’t one for hardship. Lu Sui had raised her with every comfort and privilege.
But perhaps she wasn’t destined for such a life. Perhaps this was the consequence of her disobedience.
Lu Sui had died when she was young, leaving her powerless to prevent Lin Yun and Lin Qianqian from moving in.
She knew the truth about Lu Sui’s death, but couldn’t bring herself to hate Lin Qianqian, an innocent bystander.
She didn’t know when her illness had started, perhaps the day she began caring for Lin Qianqian as a sister, the day Lin Qianqian moved in, the day she first called her “Lin Qian.”
She wanted to give Lin Qianqian a new identity, a way to absolve herself of the guilt she felt towards her mother.
But was sleeping with her sister a form of revenge?
Lu Yin didn’t know the answer.
When she left home, she had been alone, with nothing.
She had spent all her savings, her artwork fees, and competition winnings on legal fees, hiring the best lawyer to put her father in prison. She had no other source of income.
In her cheap rental apartment, the constant coughing from neighboring units and the lingering smell of cigarette smoke, despite the open window, had been a constant reminder of her circumstances.
She had worked at a restaurant, needing a job that paid daily, but her injured hand couldn’t handle the heavy lifting. The wound would reopen every night, the pain excruciating.
After a few days, she had been fired for defending herself against a drunk man who had tried to grope her. The restaurant owner had prioritized his reputation over his employee’s safety.
She worked odd jobs, day and night, barely scraping by, unsure how long she could maintain this precarious existence.
If this was her future, she might as well drown herself, clutching the painting she had created with her left hand.
A year later, Zhong Shiwu had found her. Lu Yin recognized her instantly as her mother’s friend.
Zhong Shiwu was a capable woman. Lu Yin didn’t deny it.
Years ago, Zhong Shiwu’s mother, a doctor, had been falsely accused of medical malpractice and had committed suicide, leaving a blood-written letter to clear her name.
The Lu family, patrons of the arts, often engaged in charitable acts, both for genuine altruism and for maintaining their reputation.
Lu Sui had helped Zhong Shiwu with the lawsuit, clearing her mother’s name. Zhong Shiwu had then opened a private clinic, working as a psychiatrist.
Upon seeing Lu Yin’s desperate situation, Zhong Shiwu had said, filled with guilt, “I’m sorry I’m late.”
She hadn’t said anything else.
She had stopped Lu Yin from committing suicide, recognizing the immense pressure that had driven her to this point.
Lu Yin had lost all reason to live, her mother dead, her beloved sister pushed away.
Immortality her love in a painting and then dying beside it had seemed like a beautiful escape.
Zhong Shiwu had taken the painting, forcing her to live, to find solace in art again.
Painting had returned to her life, and her sister, in a different way, was by her side again.
It felt like everything she cherished had been restored.
But they both knew it was an illusion, a fragile construct built on a foundation of lies and suppressed desires.
Lin Qianqian sneezed, and Lu Yin turned on the heater.
“Sister, it’s autumn,” Lin Qianqian reminded her.
“Put your clothes on properly. You’ll catch a cold,” Lu Yin said, withdrawing her hand, realizing she had been lost in thought.
After they parked, Lin Qianqian took Lu Yin’s hand, noticing its coldness. She held it with both hands, trying to warm it.
Lu Yin let her, staring at the elevator display.
“What are you thinking about? Why aren’t you talking?” Lin Qianqian blew on Lu Yin’s hand. “Your hands are so cold. I can’t even warm them up.”
Lu Yin didn’t reply, squeezing Lin Qianqian’s hand as they entered the elevator.
The elevator was empty. Lin Qianqian leaned against Lu Yin, her arms wrapped around her.
She never interpreted Lu Yin’s silence as anger, only as acceptance, a silent permission to do whatever she wanted.
Even if Lu Yin ended up scolding her later.
Back at the apartment, Lin Qianqian watched Lu Yin unlock the door, change her shoes, and pour herself a glass of water…
Ice water this time, with ice cubes.
“Can’t you just be honest with me?” Lin Qianqian asked, needing reassurance.
She was constantly analyzing Lu Yin’s behavior, searching for hidden meanings. “Are you thinking about your early class tomorrow, or something else?”
She walked over to Lu Yin and took a sip from her glass, swallowing an ice cube and wincing at the coldness.
“Drinking ice water in this weather will make you sick,” she said, mimicking Lu Yin’s earlier tone. “You should put on more clothes.”
She reached out to button Lu Yin’s shirt.
Lu Yin never buttoned the top two buttons, her collarbone always exposed, a sight that always made Lin Qianqian’s heart race.
She covered Lu Yin’s collarbone with the fabric, her fingers reaching for the top button.
Lu Yin grabbed her hand. “Go to bed. I’ll drive you to work tomorrow.”
“No,” Lin Qianqian leaned closer. “Not until you tell me what you’re thinking.”
This woman was definitely hiding something. Lin Qianqian hadn’t done anything wrong. There had to be a reason for Lu Yin’s unusual silence.
Lu Yin stared at her lips, her mind momentarily blank.
She didn’t want to hear Lin Qianqian’s coy questions, the unspoken invitation in her words, the proximity of their bodies a constant temptation.
“I’ll tell you later, okay?” Lu Yin said, trying to pull her hand away.
She wasn’t ready, not yet.
Her life wasn’t hers to control anymore. It was in Lin Qianqian’s hands.
“But I want to know now!” Lin Qianqian insisted. “Why are you always so secretive?”
The water sloshed in the glass, spilling onto the table as Lu Yin leaned forward to set it down.
Lin Qianqian grabbed her hand, pulling her closer.
The glass tipped over, the water spreading across the table.
“Lu Yin!” Lin Qianqian shouted, her patience wearing thin.
Lu Yin, enduring her outburst, calmly wiped the table with a paper towel.
“Can you please stop being so silent?” Lin Qianqian released her hand. “Even a meaningless platitude would be better than nothing…”
“Where are you going?” Lu Yin asked, watching her turn away.
“To bed…” Lin Qianqian said, turning back, then stopping, her gaze meeting Lu Yin’s.
Lu Yin nodded.
Lin Qianqian bit her lip, pushing aside her hurt.
She forced a smile, crossing her arms and saying haughtily, “I knew it. You just wanted to give me a goodnight kiss.”
“Lin Qian,” Lu Yin said softly, her lips parted slightly. “Come here.”
Lin Qianqian mimicked her earlier silence, turning her head away.
When Lu Yin didn’t approach, she said, “Forget it. Plenty of people wanted to kiss me goodnight when I was abroad.”
She heard Lu Yin chuckle.
Lu Yin’s desire faded, replaced by a flicker of annoyance.
She couldn’t trust herself to stop at just a kiss.
As Lu Yin reached for the doorknob, Lin Qianqian panicked.
“You’re really not going to kiss me…?”
Lu Yin paused, then pulled Lin Qianqian towards her.
Before Lin Qianqian could react, she was pressed against the door, Lu Yin’s lips on hers, a deep, demanding kiss.
Lu Yin’s hand cupped the back of her neck, her other hand on her shoulder, holding her captive.
“Sister…” Lin Qianqian whispered.
“Don’t call me that,” Lu Yin said, her voice soft despite her furrowed brow, avoiding Lin Qianqian’s gaze.
“Lu Yin…” Lin Qianqian tried again, unsure if it pleased Lu Yin or not.
The consequence was the taste of blood, but this time, it was her own.
She had bitten Lu Yin’s lip.
The kiss was suffocating.
Lu Yin, seemingly displeased with her reaction, pressed closer.
Trapped between the door and Lu Yin’s embrace, Lin Qianqian had nowhere to go.
Lu Yin’s arm tightened around her waist, her hand on the back of Lin Qianqian’s neck, a possessive gesture.
Lin Qianqian’s head tilted back, their tongues tangling, their breaths mingling.
Her jacket slipped off her shoulders, revealing the thin cotton top beneath.
The straps of the top came undone, the cool air a welcome contrast to the heat of their bodies.
Their eyes met, Lu Yin’s gaze searching Lin Qianqian’s, a mixture of longing and trepidation in her eyes.
Once, Lin Qianqian had looked at her like this, her eyes filled with hope. ‘Sister, we’ll be together forever, right?’
Lin Qianqian stepped out of her top, kicking it aside, accidentally bumping Lu Yin’s leg with her foot, then quickly retracting it.
“Here…?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
She had imagined this moment countless times, but she couldn’t decipher Lu Yin’s thoughts.
Now that it was happening, she felt a surge of panic.
It had been so long.
“Lin Qian…” Lu Yin whispered her name, her voice husky, her grip tightening, her mind struggling to maintain control.
This was the point of no return.
If they crossed this line, there would be no going back.
Lu Yin knew she could never be just a sister to Lin Qianqian, and she didn’t want to be.
But she had to control the pace, the intensity. She couldn’t afford to lose control again.
She didn’t have the strength for a third attempt.
How could anyone be given two second chances?
This was her last chance.
“No,” Lu Yin said suddenly, releasing her hold, picking up the discarded top from the floor. “Put this on.”
Lin Qianqian’s eyes filled with tears. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice trembling.
“We’re stopping,” Lu Yin said, her answer not addressing the question.
“Why?” Lin Qianqian asked, then stopped herself. “Okay…”
She didn’t want to push it. She knew she wouldn’t get an answer.
Lu Yin always had her reasons, reasons Lin Qianqian could never understand.
If Lu Yin didn’t want to tell her, she would never know.
But she was still angry. She snatched the top from Lu Yin’s hand and put it on, then picked up her jacket and hung it on the coat rack.
Lu Yin retrieved a bottle of red wine from the cabinet and poured herself a glass, draining it in one gulp.
As she poured a second glass, Lin Qianqian snatched the bottle and drank straight from it, coughing and spluttering, her face flushed.
She knelt down, coughing, the spilled water from the ice mixing with the wine on the table.
Lin Qianqian grabbed an ice cube and put it in her mouth, trying to sober up.
She stood there, barefoot on the cold floor, glaring at Lu Yin. “Get out,” she said, her voice thick with anger.
She needed to release her frustration, but she hated breaking things, so she could only lash out at the person who had caused her pain.
“Get out of where?” Lu Yin asked. “Whose house is this?”
“I’m your sister, not your pet,” Lin Qianqian said, her anger escalating. “Why do you get to decide what happens? One minute you’re kissing me, the next you’re pushing me away.”
“You think you can buy me with food and money? Make me your dog?”
She couldn’t take it anymore.
How could Lu Yin stop now, after leading her on like this?
Lu Yin slammed her glass on the table, took a deep breath, and opened the drawer, her hand automatically reaching for the empty pill bottle.
She had lost count of how many times she had done this.
“I don’t want this!” Lin Qianqian cried, her tears finally overflowing.
Couldn’t Lu Yin just give her what she wanted?
This constant uncertainty, this feeling of being at Lu Yin’s mercy, was unbearable.
Since returning home, she had been kicked out, then begged to come back, her existence dependent on Lu Yin’s whims, her every request a form of begging.
Lu Yin closed the drawer, giving up on the medication. She turned her attention back to Lin Qianqian.
“What do you want?” she asked, her voice calm, a slight tremor betraying her own turmoil.
“I don’t want anything…” Lin Qianqian wiped her eyes angrily.
“I want you!”
“I want Lu Yin!”
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