Chapter 45
Lin Qianqian sank into the warm water of the bathtub, her earlier fear and anxiety gradually fading. She looked at Lu Yin, who was washing clothes at the sink, several garments stained with paint. Lu Yin’s hands gripped the edge of the sink, her back to Lin Qianqian, her silence unnerving.
Lin Qianqian rested her head on the edge of the tub. “Sister…” she called out, her voice thick with unshed tears.
No response. She tried again.
“Sister…”
Lu Yin turned around and walked over to the bathtub, checking the water temperature. “Is it cold?” she asked, wiping the water from Lin Qianqian’s forehead.
Lin Qianqian, her body relaxed from the warmth of the water, didn’t want to move.
Lu Yin knelt down, examining the fading marks on her neck, her gaze lingering on the deeper wound on her lip.
Her expression was neutral, but her touch was gentle, almost hesitant. “We should put some ointment on this. It’ll heal slowly in this weather.”
“Where?” Lin Qianqian asked, licking her lip.
“Is it sore…down there?” Lu Yin asked, her voice soft, her focus on Lin Qianqian’s well-being.
Lin Qianqian’s mouth closed, then she mumbled, “It’s…okay…”
She couldn’t discuss such things with Lu Yin, even though she knew Lu Yin wasn’t thinking about it, her question purely practical.
“But you bit my lip really hard…” Lin Qianqian said, pointing at her lip, the least of her injuries.
She didn’t want Lu Yin to feel guilty, trying to deflect the conversation, to focus on something less intimate, less revealing.
Lu Yin, still concerned, ordered some ointment online. “Tell me if you’re not feeling well.”
“I told you,” Lin Qianqian said, her eyes shining, but the redness in the corners still evident, her appearance vulnerable. “Next time, can you kiss me somewhere else? I don’t just want kisses on the lips!”
Lu Yin knew she was trying to lighten the mood, to avoid the heavier emotions that lingered between them.
But Lu Yin was the cause of her pain, and a wave of guilt washed over her as she looked at Lin Qianqian.
She turned back to the sink, scrubbing at the paint-stained clothes.
Still bottling it up, Lin Qianqian thought, annoyed.
She moved her legs, the soreness intensifying, like the ache after a strenuous workout.
The warm water had cleared her head, and she replayed the events of the evening.
“I’m glad I didn’t accept any of their advances abroad. You’re the only one I love, Sister,” she said.
She was generally well-behaved, her rebellious streak reserved solely for Lu Yin, a classic case of taking advantage of someone’s doting.
This selective defiance made her appear polite and accommodating, her occasional outbursts of mischievousness seen as endearing quirks.
As a result, she had had her share of admirers abroad.
She had rejected invitations from her senior classmates, from the president of the photography club.
They had pressed her for a reason, and she had simply said, her voice meek and apologetic, “I’m not good enough for you.”
Although Lu Yin hadn’t explicitly stated her feelings, Lin Qianqian had received the confirmation she needed.
Lu Yin had heard her words, “Sister, you’re the only one I love,” ignoring the childish possessive tone, focusing on the underlying message.
Lin Qianqian, noticing Lu Yin’s sudden stillness, her gaze intense and unwavering, looked at her, her expression questioning.
“What did you say?” Lu Yin asked.
“I said, you’re the only one I love, Sister.”
“Not that part.”
“But it’s true!” Lin Qianqian insisted, then, remembering her earlier words, “I rejected everyone’s advances abroad?”
Lu Yin didn’t confirm or deny it, her gaze like a vine, slowly wrapping around Lin Qianqian, tightening its grip.
Lin Qianqian sensed something, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I didn’t…they were just friends…”
She remembered Lu Yin’s words, during her breakdown, You can make friends, fall in love.
Did that mean, in Lu Yin’s eyes, friendship and romantic love were equally threatening?
The thought startled her. Surely Lu Yin wasn’t that possessive.
“Don’t mention those things in front of me again,” Lu Yin said, her voice low.
“Why?” Lin Qianqian asked, surprised. She had been so proud of her unwavering devotion to Lu Yin, eager to share her rejections as proof of her love.
But Lu Yin didn’t seem pleased.
“They were just friends. Are you trying to control my social life?”
Lu Yin paused. “Maybe,” she admitted.
Lin Qianqian’s smile faltered. “I have to go out, meet people. I can’t live without friends. I’d go crazy.”
“Then stay home. Don’t go anywhere,” Lu Yin said calmly, scrubbing at the clothes, the casual tone of her words masking their dangerous implications.
Lin Qianqian had only dared to entertain such a fantasy in her own mind, but hearing Lu Yin say it so seriously, so matter-of-factly, she couldn’t dismiss it as a joke.
And Lu Yin rarely joked.
Lin Qianqian suddenly realized that if she had dated someone abroad, and Lu Yin had found out, she might have actually died in the loft that night.
“What about the painting?” she asked.
Lu Yin paused, surprised by the question. “It’s gone.”
“Why did you paint me?” Lin Qianqian asked. “It was beautiful.”
“Because I was lonely,” Lu Yin said, rinsing the clothes and placing them in a basin.
“Sister, you’re not alone anymore.”
“That’s why the painting is gone,” Lu Yin said, carrying the clothes to the washing machine.
Lin Qianqian watched her leave, trying to stand up, but her legs were weak, and she sank back into the tub.
Lu Yin returned, lifting her out of the bathtub and wrapping her in a towel, drying her gently, like a small, wet puppy.
Lin Qianqian looked up at her and grinned.
She had grown accustomed to smiling at Lu Yin like this, a silly, playful grin, either to appease her anger or to elicit a smile in return.
But Lu Yin’s face remained impassive, her emotions hidden behind a mask of indifference.
Lin Qianqian sat on a chair, wrapped in the towel, while Lu Yin dried her hair.
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, Lu Yin’s gentle touch making her feel sleepy, but the soreness between her legs was a constant reminder of their earlier encounter.
She hadn’t realized how long it had been since Lu Yin had dried her hair like this.
As a child, she had been spoiled by Lu Yin, their home a world of just the two of them, Lin Qianqian’s every whim indulged, her every emotion directed at Lu Yin.
She would chatter endlessly about her day at school, demanding Lu Yin’s undivided attention, making her put down her brushes and listen to her “important announcements.”
Even simple tasks, like drying her hair, had become a shared ritual, Lin Qianqian lazily waiting for Lu Yin to attend to her needs.
If her duvet wasn’t tucked in properly, she would make Lu Yin fix it.
If she slipped in the bathroom, even without injury, she would cry and make Lu Yin help her up, needing comfort, needing reassurance.
She had shared all her childish antics with Lu Yin, the habit persisting even now.
And Lu Yin had always indulged her.
Perhaps she had been spoiled, her expectations unrealistic, Lu Yin’s rare displays of anger always surprising, always unsettling.
She could never truly dominate Lu Yin, but she always wanted Lu Yin to yield, to give in to her whims.
When her hair was dry, she lay down on the bed. Lu Yin went to the door, returning with a bag of ointment.
Lin Qianqian stared at the ceiling as Lu Yin applied the ointment, the cool gel soothing the soreness.
“Sister…” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat.
“What?”
“I wish you were always this gentle,” she said, her voice sincere.
She had thought the bucket of cold water was her worst punishment, but Lu Yin’s loss of control in the loft had been far more terrifying.
She had longed for intimacy, but not like that…
“We’ll see,” Lu Yin said.
She had been observing Lin Qianqian since their return from the loft, watching her recover from the initial shock.
She seemed shaken, but her resilience was remarkable.
Lin Qianqian looked up at her, her neck stiff. “What do you mean, ‘we’ll see’?”
“Don’t try anything like that again.”
“Do you have other secrets?” Lin Qianqian asked.
“I mean…” Lu Yin paused, her gaze meeting Lin Qianqian’s.
The heater was on, and Lin Qianqian lay naked on the bed, her body exposed, vulnerable.
“Don’t talk about kissing and cuddling all the time.”
“But I like talking about it. And I like doing it,” Lin Qianqian said, reaching out to touch Lu Yin’s hand.
“That’s why I said ‘we’ll see.’”
Lin Qianqian connected the dots, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Are you saying I’m seducing you?”
Lu Yin lightly slapped her mouth.
She pulled the duvet over Lin Qianqian and went to wash her hands.
Lin Qianqian snuggled into the pillows, waiting for her return. “Sister, are we still going out tomorrow?”
“Didn’t we already agree on that?” Lu Yin asked, kissing her forehead.
“But you said I couldn’t leave the house!”
Lu Yin’s arm tightened around her. “I didn’t mean it.”
Lin Qianqian clearly wasn’t taking her seriously.
Since her secret had been exposed, there was no point in hiding it anymore.
She didn’t want to see Lin Qianqian with anyone else. If she could keep her at home, make her completely dependent, that would be ideal.
She had enough money to take care of Lin Qianqian for the rest of her life.
She wouldn’t need the tracking app, wouldn’t need the security cameras.
If Lin Qianqian was willing, Lu Yin knew she could make her completely subservient, her every whim fulfilled.
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