Chapter 63
Lin Qianqian didn’t know how to comfort Lu Yin.
Kisses weren’t enough. She held Lu Yin close, wanting her to see only Lin Qianqian, not the ghost that haunted her dreams.
She drifted off to sleep, waking up alone in the loft, Lu Yin gone.
She couldn’t imagine how Lu Yin, after such a night, could go to work the next morning, her message a casual mention of her whereabouts, her tone betraying no hint of their shared vulnerability.
It was almost the Spring Festival, and many students were already on winter break, using the time to catch up on their studies, the holiday itself an afterthought.
A few teachers were still conducting intensive training courses, and Lu Yin, her schedule now free, had gone to the institution to help with the remaining students.
She had stayed with Lu Yin in the loft last night, unsure if Lu Yin had been fully present, her mind still trapped in her own world. She had prepared Lu Yin’s medication and water, then they had curled up together and fallen asleep.
If the memories of the loft were painful, then she would create new ones, memories of shared comfort, of quiet companionship.
Her message to Lu Yin had gone unanswered, and she had gone to work, her heart heavy with worry.
Three days until New Year’s Eve. The art classes had ended, and the teachers were cleaning the classrooms and offices, preparing for the holiday.
That evening, they had a casual dinner together in one of the empty classrooms.
Lu Yin glanced at the time. It was still early.
Yu Miao arrived, carrying a few bottles of wine.
“Am I late? I’ve been busy with classes. Finally have some free time,” she said.
“Perfect timing, Teacher Yu! We just finished cleaning,” one of the teachers joked.
Yu Miao laughed. “I’ll send a red envelope to the group chat and have three drinks as an apology.”
They sat down, Yu Miao beside Lu Yin. “Did you ask Shiwu if she’s coming?”
“She’s probably busy,” Lu Yin said, pouring herself a glass of hot water, which Yu Miao immediately took from her.
“Everyone’s drinking tonight. We won’t be able to get you to come out during the Spring Festival, so let’s enjoy ourselves tonight,” Yu Miao said, pouring her a glass of wine. “I’ll ask her. She might be going abroad again soon.”
Lu Yin knew Zhong Shiwu wasn’t going anywhere, but it wasn’t her business, so she didn’t say anything.
Yu Miao poured a round of drinks, then checked her phone. “She replied quickly. Said she has something to do and can’t make it.”
She remembered the recent news report. “Is she okay?”
Lu Yin’s lips tightened. “Isn’t the answer obvious?”
“Right. She’s too clever for her own good,” Yu Miao said dismissively. “It doesn’t matter. It’s not like we ever get everyone together anyway.”
The conversation drifted from students to teachers, to difficult clients, the usual office gossip.
Lu Yin listened quietly, avoiding eye contact, her responses brief and noncommittal.
“How are things with your sister?” Yu Miao asked, wanting to know more, but hesitant to pry.
“We’re fine,” Lu Yin said, not wanting to elaborate.
Her colleagues at the institution weren’t fond of Lin Qianqian, and she knew why. She didn’t want to mediate, to smooth things over.
Lin Qianqian’s world revolving around Lu Yin was ideal.
“Hasn’t her mother contacted her? She’s her daughter, after all. She abandoned her and left you to raise her, and now she’s expecting you to take care of her again?” Yu Miao said, her voice filled with indignation. “You always get stuck with the messy situations.”
“Why bring that up?” Lu Yin asked, taking a sip of wine, then setting the glass down, the alcohol too strong for her liking.
“I’m just worried about you,” Yu Miao sighed. “Lu Sui and I were classmates for years. If you hadn’t been so independent as a child, so reluctant to get close to anyone, I would have adopted you long ago.”
“I lost touch with Lu Sui after she got married. If it weren’t for the news, I wouldn’t have known…” she stopped herself, seeing Lu Yin’s expression darken. “I know you keep things bottled up. I’m glad Shiwu was there for you. That mother and daughter…”
Lu Yin didn’t want to assign blame, to dwell on the past. She didn’t want to think about the future either.
The present, with Lin Qianqian, was enough.
Yu Miao, despite her bluntness, had good intentions. Lu Yin wasn’t one for close friendships, but she appreciated Yu Miao’s concern.
“Fine, don’t talk about it. But as a mother, you have to care about your daughter,” Yu Miao said, looking at a picture of her own daughter on her phone. “My daughter is at boarding school, and I miss her terribly, even though she comes home every week. And some people abandon their daughters for years, without a word, leaving others to raise them.”
Lu Yin finished her wine, still silent.
Yu Miao glared at her, exasperated.
“Yu Jie, to you,” Lu Yin said, raising her glass.
Yu Miao, seeing her attempt to appease her, drained her glass. “Fine, I know you think I’m nagging.”
“I do it willingly,” Lu Yin murmured, more to herself than to Yu Miao.
She was usually so cautious, so controlled, but when it came to Lin Qianqian, she abandoned all reason, her actions driven by a desperate need to protect her, to keep her safe, even if it meant sacrificing her own happiness, her own sanity.
She didn’t want to face the consequences of failure, so she kept pushing, kept gambling, her heart a burning inferno, her love a destructive force.
That night, after a few more drinks, she saw Lin Qianqian’s message and frowned, telling her to go to bed early, that she wouldn’t be coming home tonight.
Lin Qianqian immediately called her.
“Checking up on me? Where are you?” she demanded, as soon as Lu Yin answered. “Didn’t you say you didn’t have any more classes before the New Year? You’ve been gone all day, you didn’t pick me up from work, and now you’re not even coming home! My company gave us early leave for the Spring Festival. Everyone’s afraid of not being able to get tickets.”
“I have some things to do at the institution. I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” Lu Yin said.
She had been drinking and couldn’t drive. She would stay at the institution tonight.
“A single woman, staying out all night alone? I’m worried about you!” Lin Qianqian said, her voice filled with a feigned concern. “And as your older sister, I’m sure you’re worried about leaving your poor little sister all alone at home!”
“Lin Qian, I’ve been drinking.”
Silence.
Lin Qianqian assumed she was having dinner with her colleagues.
Lu Yin rarely socialized with them, and she couldn’t very well ask her to leave early.
“Can I…come to the institution?” she asked, then quickly added, “Actually, no. Enjoy your dinner. I’ll let you off the hook this time.”
Lu Yin saw through her feigned indifference.
“Come here. I want you to come.”
Lin Qianqian froze, those words, so simple, yet so powerful, more meaningful than “I love you,” a confirmation of their connection, their shared need for each other.
“Then wait for me…” she said, her voice soft. “Don’t drink too much…”
Lu Yin hung up and set down her wine glass.
She had had more than usual tonight, and her tolerance was low. She didn’t usually drink.
She poured herself a glass of water, her throat dry.
“Not drinking anymore?” Yu Miao asked.
“No,” Lu Yin said. “I’ll be leaving soon.”
Yu Miao, knowing who had called, didn’t say anything.
Everyone knew Lu Yin was hopelessly devoted to Lin Qianqian, but they couldn’t understand why.
Lu Yin couldn’t understand it either. What was it about this girl, so loud and demanding, yet so easily appeased, her academic and professional achievements mediocre, that had captivated her so completely?
She had never had a specific image of her ideal partner, her youth consumed by her passion for art.
But others would have assumed she would choose someone equally accomplished, someone who shared her artistic sensibilities.
She opened the map app on her phone, her gaze fixed on the red dot that represented Lin Qianqian, watching as it moved closer, fifteen kilometers, ten, five, one…
Then it stopped at an intersection, moving slowly towards the institution.
She must have taken a taxi. Lu Yin wondered if she was dressed warmly and grabbed her coat, even though she was already wearing a thick sweater.
Lin Qianqian entered the building, saw Lu Yin waiting in the hallway, and ran towards her.
“Why aren’t you wearing a coat? Aren’t you cold?” she asked, taking the coat from Lu Yin and helping her put it on.
“The heater’s on inside. I’m not cold.”
“But we’re outside!” Lin Qianqian retorted, zipping up the coat. “If you don’t care about yourself, I care about you.”
She smelled the alcohol on Lu Yin’s breath. “Is the dinner over?”
“Not yet, but I can leave now,” Lu Yin said honestly. She felt a wave of dizziness and leaned against the wall for a moment.
Lin Qianqian held her arm, wondering how much she had drunk.
“Lin Qian, I had a bit too much to drink tonight,” Lu Yin said, her arm resting on Lin Qianqian’s shoulder.
“Are you okay? Do you need some water?” Lin Qianqian asked, looking around. “Where’s the convenience store?”
She didn’t want to go inside the classroom. She didn’t know anyone there.
“I’m fine,” Lu Yin said, closing her eyes, her hand finding Lin Qianqian’s, their fingers interlacing.
“Sister, are you okay?” Lin Qianqian asked, her face close to Lu Yin’s, her gaze searching.
Lu Yin opened her eyes, her gaze meeting Lin Qianqian’s, then quickly looking away. “Just a little dizzy. I wish you hadn’t come.”
“What?!” Lin Qianqian tugged at her sleeve. “Don’t say that!”
“I mean…I’m probably drunk. Seeing you just makes me want to kiss you.”
Lin Qianqian was startled. She hadn’t expected such a direct confession from Lu Yin, especially when she was drunk.
She had rarely seen this side of Lu Yin, her words and actions since last night unsettling, her emotions a mystery.
She needed to learn more about this woman, her moods, her desires.
But she liked this Lu Yin, the one who said exactly what she wanted to hear.
“Kissing here…isn’t that a bit inappropriate…?” Lin Qianqian asked, her hands on Lu Yin’s collar, her body pressing against Lu Yin’s, her words a coy pretense, her actions bold and unrestrained.
“It is,” Lu Yin said, straightening up and pulling Lin Qianqian away from the wall. “Let’s go.”
“You’re really…” Lin Qianqian sighed, feigning disappointment. “I was just being coy!”
“Hurry up,” Lu Yin said, quickening her pace.
Lin Qianqian wondered if Lu Yin had been faking her dizziness. She was practically running now.
“No!” Lin Qianqian protested. “Legs aren’t just for walking.”
“What else are they for?” Lu Yin asked, calling a taxi.
“For wrapping around you,” Lin Qianqian whispered in her ear. “Tonight?”
Lu Yin glanced at her. “Sure.”
“Are you really drunk?” Lin Qianqian asked, unable to decipher Lu Yin’s behavior.
This was so unlike her.
Perhaps she should buy some stronger alcohol and get Lu Yin drunk more often. It was much more fun.
A drunk Lu Yin was more compliant, more affectionate, her usual inhibitions gone.
“Are you drunk or not?” she asked again, leaning closer.
Under the dim streetlights, her voice was soft and sweet, her eyes shining with a playful innocence.
Lu Yin stared at her for a moment, then pulled her along, her pace quickening.
“Where are we going?” Lin Qianqian asked, struggling to keep up.
They bypassed the offices and studios, Lu Yin leading her upstairs to a small room.
She unlocked the door, pulled Lin Qianqian inside, locked the door again, and kissed her, her movements swift and decisive.
Lin Qianqian, caught off guard, her mind still trying to process what was happening, felt Lu Yin’s lips on hers, her tongue teasing, her teeth gently nibbling.
She was pressed against the door, the cold metal a stark contrast to the warmth of Lu Yin’s body, the intimacy of their embrace.
This was Lu Yin’s room at the institution, a place she had never been before.
She had imagined a small, cramped space, a single bed, the sounds of their lovemaking easily overheard.
But the room was spacious, the silence amplifying the sounds of their kisses, the only indication of their location the faint echoes of their movements.
“Open your mouth,” Lu Yin murmured against her lips.
Lin Qianqian obeyed, her mind, usually racing with thoughts and plans, now quiet, her focus solely on the sensations, the pleasure of Lu Yin’s touch, her taste.
Her eyes scanned the room, the walls covered in paintings, a familiar sight, a reminder of Lu Yin’s old bedroom in their childhood home, the canvases and art supplies neatly arranged.
Back then, she had often messed up Lu Yin’s carefully organized space, the habit persisting even now.
Lu Yin lifted her onto the desk, the scattered paintbrushes clattering to the floor, the sound amplified by the quietness of the room.
Lin Qianqian, always one to follow through on her promises, especially to Lu Yin, wrapped her legs around Lu Yin’s waist, her earlier suggestion no longer a playful tease, but a demand.
The room was silent, their only audience the paintings on the wall, silent witnesses to their forbidden desires.
Lin Qianqian tasted the lingering sweetness of wine on Lu Yin’s tongue, the flavor intoxicating.
“Sister, you’re so sweet…” she murmured, her words a playful challenge, a teasing reminder of their shared intimacy.
Lu Yin looked at her, the expression in Lin Qianqian’s eyes unchanged, the same playful innocence, the same unwavering devotion.
Before they had left their old home, Lu Yin had believed she had a responsibility to protect Lin Qianqian, to guide her, her actions tempered by a sense of duty, of sisterly love.
But now, looking into Lin Qianqian’s eyes, she felt something else, a deeper connection, a forbidden longing.
She had been unwilling to shatter the delicate balance of their relationship, but Lin Qianqian had always been the one to push, to break through the barriers, her boldness a disruptive force, her love a consuming fire.
Lu Yin smiled, her hand moving to Lin Qianqian’s most sensitive places, her touch expertly eliciting moans and gasps, silencing her playful banter.
She wiped the moisture from the desk, watching Lin Qianqian’s flushed face, her eyes closed, her body trembling, and chuckled.
She wasn’t a good sister, not really. She couldn’t let Lin Qianqian go, couldn’t bear the thought of her with anyone else. She would pull her back, keep her close, even if it meant hurting her.
The desk was slippery, and Lin Qianqian slid forward, her arms tightening around Lu Yin’s waist, afraid of falling.
Lu Yin lifted her and carried her to the bed.
Lin Qianqian finally caught her breath.
“Sister, I can’t breathe…” she whispered, her voice shaky.
“Why?” Lu Yin asked, not offering any assistance, her gaze lingering on Lin Qianqian’s flushed face, her parted lips, her rapid breathing.
She could control her emotions, but not her desire for Lin Qianqian, the primal urge to touch her, to taste her, to possess her.
Lin Qianqian’s hands gripped the sheets.
She shouldn’t have provoked Lu Yin, not when she was drunk, not here, in the institution, the risk of discovery, however small, a terrifying prospect.
Lu Yin’s teeth would find her skin again, the pressure increasing, a slow, torturous exploration.
“You know…” Lin Qianqian whispered, taking Lu Yin’s hand. “If you kiss me, I won’t be able to…”
“Really…” she whimpered, her tears a mixture of pleasure and fear. “I can’t control myself…”
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