Chapter 73
Lu Yin answered the phone. It was Yu Miao.
“Your sister’s mother came to the institution again. I sent her away, just wanted to let you know,” Yu Miao said. “It’s the New Year’s holiday, and I can’t even come to the office without running into someone I don’t want to see.”
“Isn’t your shift almost over?” Lu Yin asked, glancing at the time. It was past seven.
The institution was closed for the holidays, and the teachers’ duty shifts ended at 8:30 PM.
“It doesn’t matter. She keeps coming back. What if she comes back tomorrow?” Yu Miao complained. “It’s the holiday season, and there are a lot of people around. If they recognize her and start spreading rumors, it’ll damage the institution’s reputation.”
“She even tried to give me a bank card with ten thousand yuan,” Yu Miao continued. “Ten thousand yuan? Is that supposed to be some kind of bribe? An insult?”
“Not to mention, you raised her daughter for years, taking care of her like she was your own, even when you were still a child yourself. And now she’s flaunting that money, as if we don’t know where it came from!”
“I’ll handle it,” Lu Yin said calmly, after Yu Miao finished her rant, not mentioning her own investigation.
Yu Miao, hearing her indifferent tone, sighed. “Fine, fine, I know you think I’m nagging. I’ll take care of it myself.”
She hung up, and Lu Yin, unfazed, put her phone down and continued eating.
Lin Qianqian’s pace had slowed considerably.
“Are you full?” Lu Yin asked, glancing at her.
“Not yet…” Lin Qianqian mumbled, her head down, her mind replaying Yu Miao’s words.
The living room was quiet, and she had heard everything, the mention of her mother’s repeated visits to the institution, Lu Yin’s silence, her apparent indifference.
So, that’s why Lu Yin had been cold and distant that morning.
Lin Yun’s constant intrusions were disrupting their lives, their fragile peace.
She knew Lu Yin wouldn’t tell her, so she would have to take matters into her own hands.
“Sister, let’s go to the institution,” she said, putting down her chopsticks. “I’m full.”
Lu Yin looked at her, knowing she had overheard the conversation.
“It’s late,” she said calmly. “Aren’t you tired?”
Lin Qianqian met her gaze.
She was tired, physically and emotionally exhausted from the day’s events, the rollercoaster of emotions, the fight with Lu Yin, the reconciliation.
“I want to go,” she said, her voice firm, her gaze unwavering. She wanted to resolve this, to show Lu Yin her loyalty, her determination.
She didn’t want to hear Lu Yin’s refusal, didn’t want to give her the chance to say no. She stood up and pulled Lu Yin towards the door.
“That ten thousand yuan is yours. Take it or leave it. It’s your decision,” she said, her voice slightly breathless. “I can’t make that choice for you.”
In the car, they drove in silence, Lin Qianqian’s anxiety growing with each passing minute.
She had acted impulsively, and now, she had to face her mother, to confront her past.
She didn’t know if Lin Yun was still there, but she needed to do this, for Lu Yin, for herself.
The drive to the institution seemed to take forever.
And it had taken her four years to return, to face her own past, her own mistakes. The memories flooded back, a torrent of guilt and regret, the pain a visceral reminder of her own cowardice.
She felt sick, her body remembering the humiliation, the fear, but she wouldn’t turn away, wouldn’t hide.
She had to face this, to atone for her past, to earn her place in Lu Yin’s present, their future.
She couldn’t change the past, but she could choose her future.
She didn’t want to be Lu Yin’s stepsister anymore. She wanted to be her lover.
The former filled her with anxiety, the latter with a sense of peace, of belonging.
Lu Yin didn’t offer any comfort, her silence a familiar weight in the quiet car, her focus on the road ahead, her mind seemingly elsewhere.
She didn’t expect a confrontation with Lin Yun, didn’t want to imagine the scene, the potential for chaos, for more pain.
She had already made too many concessions.
If things went as planned, this would be their last encounter.
She couldn’t be any more generous.
The car stopped in front of the institution, the street bustling with activity, fireworks exploding in the night sky, their colorful bursts a stark contrast to the darkness within.
Lin Qianqian scanned the street, but couldn’t see her mother.
Lu Yin walked towards the building, and Yu Miao emerged from the entrance.
“What are you doing here so late?” Yu Miao asked, ignoring Lin Qianqian.
“Just checking in,” Lu Yin said casually.
“Then let me fill you in. Come inside,” Yu Miao said.
Lu Yin’s hand tightened around Lin Qianqian’s, and she saw Lin Qianqian’s reluctance to enter.
“Can I wait outside?” Lin Qianqian asked, trying to pull her hand away, but Lu Yin’s grip was firm.
“It’s cold. Come inside with me.”
Lin Qianqian shook her head. “I’ll wait here. If you’re worried about me being cold, then hurry up.”
“Then we’re not going inside,” Lu Yin said, her voice firm, her refusal absolute.
“I don’t want to go inside. I don’t want to see those people,” Lin Qianqian said, equally stubborn. “You know they don’t like me. Are you trying to embarrass me?”
Lu Yin sighed, releasing her hand and wrapping the scarf around Lin Qianqian’s neck. “I’ll be quick.”
She entered the institution, and Lin Qianqian watched her, her gaze lingering on the closed office door, her heart heavy with a mixture of love and resentment.
If Lu Yin had been more forceful, more insistent, she would have been happy to stay outside, but she knew her own desire for Lu Yin’s approval, her need to be near her, was unhealthy, a dangerous dependence.
She leaned against the wall, watching the fireworks, the crowds, her mind drifting back to the previous night, her solitary vigil outside the convenience store, the agonizing choice she had made, the consequences of her decision still reverberating through her life.
The wind picked up, and she shivered, pulling her jacket tighter, her gaze falling on a figure standing beneath a bare tree.
She recognized her mother instantly.
Her eyes widened, and she ran towards Lin Yun, who, seeing her approach, turned and ran in the opposite direction.
But Lin Yun was no match for Lin Qianqian’s youthful energy.
“What are you doing here?” Lin Qianqian demanded, grabbing her arm.
“I came to give you money. It’s the New Year. Elders are supposed to give red envelopes to their juniors,” Lin Yun said, pulling her arm away, her gaze avoiding Lin Qianqian’s. “You didn’t want the ten thousand. Maybe your sister does.”
“She doesn’t want to see you! Don’t come here again!” Lin Qianqian said, stepping in front of her, blocking her path. “Haven’t you caused enough trouble already?”
“I just wanted to settle things, but you two are so difficult to reach,” Lin Yun scoffed. “Do you think I’m some kind of bad luck charm? A curse?”
“We settled things last night! We’re done! You have nothing to do with us anymore! And you especially have nothing to do with my sister!” Lin Qianqian shouted.
“Fine, fine, I know you two are a family now,” Lin Yun said coldly. “Blood is thicker than water, right?”
Lu Yin emerged from the institution, and not seeing Lin Qianqian, noticed the two figures arguing in the distance. She walked towards them, her pace quickening.
Lin Qianqian, hearing her footsteps, called out, “Sister!” then stepped back, blocking Lu Yin’s path.
“I can handle this myself!” she said, not wanting Lu Yin to get involved.
“Good. Now that you’re both here, let’s make things clear,” Lin Yun said, holding up the bank card. “This is the money from the sale of the house. I know it’s not much, but it’s all I have left. Consider it a final settlement. We’re done. You can live your lives however you want.”
Lu Yin frowned, Lin Qianqian’s hand gripping her arm tightly.
“Fine! But don’t ever come here again!” Lin Qianqian said, her body pressed against Lu Yin’s, her words a protective shield, her presence a silent declaration of loyalty.
This time, she didn’t need Lu Yin to call her. She was here, standing before her, ready to defend her, to protect her.
Lin Yun’s anger flared, seeing Lin Qianqian shielding Lu Yin, her own daughter’s loyalty now directed at the daughter of the woman she hated most.
She was jealous of Lu Sui, her privileged life, her beauty, her talent, her carefully cultivated image of philanthropy and kindness.
She wanted to destroy her, to destroy everything she had built, her daughter included.
But seeing Lin Qianqian’s rejection, her coldness, she felt a pang of regret, a sudden understanding of the consequences of her own actions, the irrevocable choices she had made.
Her mind raced, her anger giving way to a sudden panic, a scream escaping her lips, the sound sharp and piercing, echoing in the quiet street.
Lu Yin’s arms wrapped around Lin Qianqian, holding her close, her touch a silent reassurance, Lin Qianqian’s body trembling against hers, her tears a silent apology.
The noise attracted the attention of passersby, their curious gazes adding to Lin Yun’s humiliation.
She turned and fled, disappearing into the darkness.
Lu Yin wiped away Lin Qianqian’s tears, her expression unchanged, her gaze distant, and led her to the car.
The warmth of the car enveloped them as Lu Yin closed the door, the outside world, the noise and chaos of the holiday, fading into the quiet intimacy of their shared space.
Lu Yin looked at Lin Qianqian, her face pale, her eyes red and swollen, her silence a heavy weight in the quiet car.
“Sister, I was so afraid she would hurt you…I was so scared…” Lin Qianqian whispered, her voice trembling, the memory of her mother’s words, her anger, a painful reminder of their shared past.
She hadn’t been able to respond, her own words caught in her throat, her fear of saying the wrong thing, of angering Lin Yun further, paralyzing her.
And what would Lu Yin think of her, if she had lashed out at her own mother?
“She wouldn’t,” Lu Yin said softly, her words a gentle reassurance, a lie she knew Lin Qianqian needed to hear.
“She would! She’s capable of anything…” Lin Qianqian took Lu Yin’s hand and kissed it, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m afraid I can’t protect you.”
“But you did,” Lu Yin said, smiling at her. “I didn’t do anything. You’re the one who sent her away.”
“Really…? Was I brave?” Lin Qianqian asked, knowing Lu Yin was trying to comfort her, her words a balm for her wounded pride, her bruised heart.
She knew the truth, but she still wanted to hear it from Lu Yin, her reassurance a validation of her own courage, her own love.
“Very brave,” Lu Yin said, her hand gently stroking Lin Qianqian’s hair. “Truly.”
Lin Qianqian forced a smile, her voice thick with tears. “I just want to protect you, to make up for my mistakes…”
Lu Yin’s gaze softened, her fingers interlacing with Lin Qianqian’s.
She had never blamed Lin Qianqian for what had happened four years ago.
Lin Qianqian had been young, naive, her understanding of the world limited.
People with low self-esteem often followed the crowd, their fear of judgment, of rejection, a powerful force.
And the “punishment” for defying her mother, for standing with Lu Yin, had been the public humiliation, the whispers and accusations, a terrifying prospect for someone so young, so sheltered.
But Lin Qianqian had returned, defying her mother, her past, her fears, her love for Lu Yin a stronger force.
Lu Yin was grateful she had survived those four years, her own struggles, her own pain, a small price to pay for this second chance.
If Lin Qianqian had returned to find her gone, she would have been devastated, her guilt a constant torment.
Lin Qianqian’s sobs subsided, her tears leaving streaks on her cheeks, her eyes puffy and sore. She blinked rapidly. “Sister, I’ve been crying too much lately, haven’t I…?”
“Have you?” Lu Yin asked, stopping her from rubbing her eyes, wiping her face with a wet wipe.
“Yes! I’ve lost count! I’m not usually a crybaby, but I can’t help it,” she sniffled. “And crying makes you ugly, right? I don’t want to be ugly.”
“Then stop crying,” Lu Yin said, wiping her hands.
“So you do think I’m ugly?”
Lu Yin paused, surprised by her conclusion. “I didn’t say that.”
Lin Qianqian shifted in her seat, her voice a soft complaint. “My back hurts…”
“I’ll give you a massage later. Did you catch a chill? You should have dressed more warmly,” Lu Yin said, her voice filled with concern. “You’re always so stubborn.”
“It’s okay. How’s your hand? Is it still hurting?” Lin Qianqian asked, taking Lu Yin’s hand and tracing the lines on her palm.
She hadn’t even asked about Lu Yin’s injury when she had seen her bandaged hand, demanding answers, her anger blinding her to Lu Yin’s pain.
And after their argument, she hadn’t had the chance to ask, her guilt a heavy burden.
She kissed Lu Yin’s palm softly, her own touch a silent apology, a promise to never leave her again. “Does it still hurt? Why aren’t you answering me?”
“It stopped hurting a while ago. Didn’t I tell you? It only hurts for a few days,” Lu Yin said casually. “As for how many days…that depends on luck.”
“You’re still joking! I’m being serious!” Lin Qianqian said, wanting to playfully slap Lu Yin’s hand, then stopping herself, remembering her injury.
Her mood had lifted after her emotional outburst, her tears a release, a catharsis.
Perhaps it was the resolution of her long-held guilt, the knowledge that she had finally found a way to protect Lu Yin, to make amends for her past mistakes.
Even though she hadn’t been there at midnight, this New Year felt different, better, than any she had spent abroad, alone and lonely.
“Sister…” she started to say, then stopped herself.
“What is it?” Lu Yin asked, looking down at her, kissing her forehead softly.
Lin Qianqian shook her head. She had been about to say that from now on, it would be just the two of them, their lives intertwined, their love a shared secret.
But it was already true, unspoken, understood, and saying it aloud seemed unnecessary, even a bit melodramatic, a reminder of the people, the past, she wanted to forget.
Lu Yin moved closer, and Lin Qianqian snuggled into her arms, their hands clasped together, their gazes fixed on the night sky, the fireworks fading, the snow falling steadily.
“Let’s set off some fireworks too, sometime,” Lin Qianqian said, her eyes shining with a childlike wonder. “I saw so many different kinds at the convenience store last night.”
“Okay,” Lu Yin said, her own heart finally calming, the turmoil within subsiding.
But she knew her outward calm had been a facade, her control a fragile thing, easily shattered.
If Lin Yun had hurt Lin Qianqian, she wouldn’t have hesitated to retaliate.
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