Chapter 76
Lin Qianqian dutifully attended the training course for two days, diligently practicing her sun drawings. For her, not bothering Lu Yin was the greatest help she could offer. She observed her classmates, noticing several with elaborate ear piercings. One girl even showed her a navel piercing, a thin ring adorning her belly button. Lin Qianqian listened to her tales of the painful two-week recovery and how she had almost fainted during the procedure, needing someone to hold her up. Lin Qianqian’s initial interest quickly waned, the thought of the pain making her squeamish. She politely declined the girl’s recommendation for a piercer, her hand, holding the paintbrush, trembling slightly.
Lu Yin entered the classroom and sat beside her, noticing her apprehension. She tapped Lin Qianqian’s paintbrush with her pen, drawing her attention back to the present.
People often feigned busyness when they were embarrassed, and Lin Qianqian quickly unlocked her phone, the image search for navel piercings still on the screen.
Lu Yin’s gaze lingered on the image before she turned off the phone.
“Just curious,” Lin Qianqian said quickly, putting the phone away in Lu Yin’s desk drawer, a performative display of diligence.
“Who were you talking to about this?” Lu Yin asked.
“No one. I saw someone with an ear piercing and then I saw navel piercings in the related searches, so I clicked on it,” Lin Qianqian explained, then asked tentatively, “Can I get one?”
Lu Yin raised an eyebrow. “Do you want one?”
Lin Qianqian shook her head immediately. “Too painful.”
She leaned closer to Lu Yin, her voice a playful whisper. “I prefer your kind of pain. Just the right amount.”
Lu Yin pushed her away, her expression unchanged, and opened her notebook.
Lin Qianqian tried to focus on the lesson, but the memory of her own childhood attempts at accessorizing resurfaced.
She had seen a classmate get her ears pierced and had run home, terrified, then proudly displayed her clip-on earrings at school, her collection a gift from Lu Yin, a substitute for the real thing.
She had paraded around the classroom, showing off her new “piercings,” then taken selfies with Lu Yin’s phone, filling it with pictures of herself.
Lu Yin, finding the photos, had been amused, but also slightly exasperated, Lin Qianqian refusing to delete them, her childish defiance a familiar pattern.
A few days later, she had lost one of the earrings, her tears inconsolable until Lu Yin had promised to buy her a new, even more beautiful pair.
While bathing her, Lu Yin had found the missing earring, tangled in her hair.
Lin Qianqian, mortified, had sunk into the bathtub, her earlier exuberance replaced by a quiet embarrassment, her silence lasting for the rest of the evening.
Just like her reaction just now, quickly closing the image search for navel piercings.
“Maybe…just one?” Lin Qianqian asked, her curiosity still piqued, but her fear of pain stronger. “Just one here?” she said, pointing at her ear.
Lu Yin glanced at her, then at the classroom, silencing her with a look.
After class, Lin Qianqian followed Lu Yin back to the office.
“Can I?” she asked again, her persistence a challenge, a test of Lu Yin’s patience.
“I don’t have time,” Lu Yin said, her expression serious.
“Tonight? Or when we get back?” Lin Qianqian asked, thinking about the piercer her classmate had recommended.
Lu Yin didn’t understand her sudden interest in piercings, but Lin Qianqian’s whims were often fleeting, her enthusiasm for new things quickly fading.
“Then I’ll do some research,” Lin Qianqian said, picking up her phone. “I’ll look for a place nearby. Okay?”
She was testing the waters, pushing the boundaries, her persistence a way to gauge Lu Yin’s reaction.
Lu Yin’s gaze swept over her. “Don’t you remember what happened when you got your ears pierced?”
“That was when I was a kid. I wouldn’t run home crying now,” Lin Qianqian said, not wanting to be reminded of her past embarrassments. “I don’t cry because of pain anymore.”
“Really?” Lu Yin asked, her voice a subtle challenge.
Lin Qianqian’s mind raced. “We’re in public! And I’m on my period! Don’t even think about it!” she exclaimed, deflecting the question, turning the tables, her own discomfort now projected onto Lu Yin, a familiar tactic.
Lu Yin, ignoring her, sat down and started organizing her desk. “I’m free tonight,” she said.
“So you agree?” Lin Qianqian asked, her face lighting up, about to kiss Lu Yin, then stopping as she heard footsteps approaching, another teacher entering the office. She sat down, watching Lu Yin work.
She browsed the piercer’s social media page, admiring the photos of multiple ear piercings. “So cool,” she murmured, touching her own ear, a slight twinge of pain a reminder of her own sensitivity.
Just one small piercing, she thought. That would be enough.
She wasn’t usually so bold, but with Lu Yin there, she felt invincible, her fear replaced by a reckless confidence. She contacted the piercer, confirming the appointment, her relief palpable as she learned she could get it done that night.
Lu Yin accompanied her to the piercing studio, the entire process taking less than thirty minutes, the pain less intense than she had anticipated.
She listened carefully to the aftercare instructions, diligently noting them on her phone.
On their way back, they stopped at a pharmacy for disinfectant and painkillers.
Lu Yin watched her, her gaze following Lin Qianqian’s every move, her independence a surprising contrast to her usual childish antics, her demands for attention.
Perhaps this was how she had been abroad, her playful banter, her need for constant reassurance, replaced by a quiet competence, her interactions with others polite and respectful.
She would listen attentively, her gaze fixed on the speaker’s lips, her movements careful and deliberate, her voice soft and gentle, her demeanor almost shy.
She only acts out with me, Lu Yin thought, a smile touching her lips.
Back at the dorm, however, Lin Qianqian’s earlier reserve vanished, her usual demands resurfacing.
“The piercer said I have to keep my ear dry. No water,” she announced.
“And I have to use the disinfectant spray several times a day, or it’ll get infected.”
“And I have to change the earrings every day. I’m not very good at it, so you have to help me.”
The numbing medication was wearing off, and her ear felt sensitive, the slight throbbing a constant reminder of her new piercing.
Lu Yin, after listening to her lengthy list of demands, finally opened her eyes. “Such a hassle,” she muttered.
“But you agreed!” Lin Qianqian said, walking over to Lu Yin, her gaze fixed on her face. “I asked you during class, and you said yes! Now you have to deal with the consequences!”
“Consequences?” Lu Yin asked, her head throbbing. “Of taking care of you?”
“You still owe me a day as my servant. You promised last year for my birthday,” Lin Qianqian reminded her, always quick to bring up Lu Yin’s unfulfilled promises. “Consider this a two-for-one deal. How about it?”
Lu Yin’s life was filled with debts to Lin Qianqian, her childish demands a constant drain on her time, her energy, her resources.
“It’s a bargain. I wouldn’t offer this to just anyone,” Lin Qianqian said, then clutched her stomach dramatically. “Oh! I must have caught a chill! My stomach hurts so much! It’s my period!”
She watched Lu Yin’s expression carefully.
“Put your coat on,” Lu Yin said, handing her the coat.
“What? Are you kicking me out?”
“Let’s go to a hotel. There are no private bathrooms here.”
Lin Qianqian, relieved, quickly put on her coat and followed Lu Yin out of the room.
The weather was damp and chilly, a light rain falling, the streets dark and deserted.
Lu Yin took her hand, their fingers interlacing, Lin Qianqian’s hand sliding into Lu Yin’s coat pocket, seeking warmth.
The nearest hotel was a few blocks away. Lin Qianqian watched as Lu Yin checked in, then commented, “You seem very familiar with this process…”
Seeing Lu Yin’s warning glance, she quickly backtracked. “Just kidding.”
Under Lu Yin’s watchful eye, she undressed and went into the bathroom. “Wash my hair,” she said.
Lu Yin gathered her discarded clothes. “I’ll go buy you some toiletries.”
“You’re just leaving because you don’t want to wash my hair,” Lin Qianqian said, hugging herself dramatically. “I’m so pathetic…no one loves me…left alone in the cold…”
Lu Yin ignored her, leaving the room.
She’s ignoring me again.
Lin Qianqian turned on the shower, her mind racing, plotting her revenge.
She had accompanied Lu Yin to the retreat center, sacrificing her precious vacation days. She wouldn’t let Lu Yin get away with this.
“Little servant, my little servant,” she sang, her voice off-key, listening for Lu Yin’s return.
A few minutes later, the door opened. She couldn’t see who it was from the shower, so she quickly sat down on the floor.
“Are you feeling unwell?” Lu Yin asked, placing a bag of toiletries on the counter and walking over to the shower, turning off the water and examining Lin Qianqian’s ear, her gaze then shifting to Lin Qianqian’s face, her furrowed brow a sign of concern.
“My stomach hurts…” Lin Qianqian said, her body curled up in a protective ball, the blood from her period mixing with the water on the floor.
Lu Yin sighed, wrapping her in a towel and carrying her to the sofa, pouring her a glass of hot water.
Lin Qianqian kept her head down, watching Lu Yin from the corner of her eye, afraid of her seeing through her act.
“Did you catch a chill?” Lu Yin asked, handing her the water.
“I don’t know…but it’s not my fault, is it?” Lin Qianqian said, her voice a playful whine. “I told you I couldn’t shower alone! And now my ear hurts too! Check it! Is it infected?”
Lu Yin ignored her ear, her stomach, her gaze fixed on Lin Qianqian’s face.
Lin Qianqian, feeling a flicker of guilt under Lu Yin’s intense scrutiny, looked down, her head almost touching the glass of water.
“Finish your water. I’ll help you,” Lu Yin said, removing her coat, her black turtleneck sweater a stark contrast to Lin Qianqian’s bare skin. “Hurry up.”
“You’re rushing me…” Lin Qianqian said, deliberately taking small sips, prolonging the process, her childish defiance a familiar tactic.
After twenty minutes, she finally stood up.
She was wearing pajama pants and a bathrobe. Lu Yin led her to the sink, her voice a gentle command. “Bend over.”
The warm water soothed her scalp, and she leaned against the sink, enjoying the feeling of being pampered, of being cared for.
Lu Yin massaged her head, her touch firm but gentle, and Lin Qianqian felt herself drifting off, her eyelids heavy.
If only she could lie down…
After washing her hair, Lu Yin wrapped it in a towel, removed her bathrobe, and then, her expression unchanged, pulled off her pajama pants and tossed them in the trash, leading her into the shower.
“Am I that unattractive now?” Lin Qianqian asked, her voice a playful complaint. “You’re treating me like a piece of meat.”
“I’m tempted to skin you alive,” Lu Yin said, her voice a low murmur, the words barely audible above the sound of the water, and Lin Qianqian, sensing her displeasure, obediently stood still, her arms raised, her legs spread, her body a willing canvas for Lu Yin’s touch.
Lu Yin washed her, her movements efficient, her touch both gentle and demanding, Lin Qianqian’s earlier defiance now replaced by a childlike obedience.
She felt like a child being scolded, then bathed by her mother, her own anger and frustration overshadowed by a deeper need for comfort, for reassurance.
She decided to give Lu Yin the silent treatment, like a child refusing to eat their vegetables after being scolded.
After her shower, her hair wrapped in a towel, Lu Yin answered a phone call.
“I’m not at the dorm. I have something to do,” she said, walking away from Lin Qianqian. “I’ll be back at the classroom tomorrow morning.”
“Where are you going?” Lin Qianqian asked, when she hung up.
“Judging by your expression in the bathroom, I thought you were planning on ignoring me tonight,” Lu Yin said.
Lin Qianqian was speechless.
How did this woman always know what she was thinking?
And how could she forget her own resolutions so easily?
“I would never ignore you. Unlike some people, I don’t resort to the silent treatment when I’m angry,” she said, her voice a playful accusation.
Now wasn’t the time for petty arguments. Lu Yin was used to her teasing anyway.
“We’re going sketching tomorrow, in the countryside. It’s a long bus ride. You don’t have to come if you’re not feeling well,” Lu Yin said. “If the dorm is too noisy, I can extend our hotel reservation.”
“No way! I’m coming! I’ve never been sketching before,” Lin Qianqian said, her earlier sulk forgotten.
She had heard from Zhong Shiwu that Lu Yin used to go sketching, but it had always been a solitary activity, a way to escape, to find solace in her art.
Lin Qianqian had never accompanied her, and she wouldn’t miss this opportunity, even if it was just a student training retreat.
“Then go to bed early. We have to leave early tomorrow morning,” Lu Yin said, removing the towel from Lin Qianqian’s hair and retrieving the hairdryer.
Lin Qianqian looked at her reflection in the mirror, Lu Yin’s gentle touch a familiar comfort, a reminder of their shared past, the years melting away, their roles unchanged, the older sister caring for the younger, their bond unbreakable.
They had always been alone together, their lives intertwined, their days and nights a shared existence.
The only difference was that before, they had been abandoned, discarded, while now, they only had each other.
She had read somewhere that people became more sentimental as they got older, but she was only twenty-four, and her tears flowed freely, the warmth of Lu Yin’s presence, the joy of their reunion, a stark contrast to the loneliness of the past four years.
Lu Yin turned off the hairdryer, her brow furrowing as she examined Lin Qianqian’s ear. “Did I hurt you? Or is it the hairdryer?”
“Neither…” Lin Qianqian shook her head. “I’m just…touched.”
Lu Yin was surprised by her words, her usual playful banter, her teasing remarks, now replaced by a quiet sincerity.
“I want you to take care of me forever,” Lin Qianqian said, her voice soft, her words a playful demand, a reminder of her own dependence on Lu Yin, her love a constant, unwavering force.
Lu Yin chuckled, her hand gently touching the corner of Lin Qianqian’s eye. “Do I owe you something?”
“You do. Who knows what you did to me in a past life…” Lin Qianqian said, touching her hair, which was almost dry.
She took the hairdryer from Lu Yin. “I’ll do it myself. You go take a shower.”
Lu Yin looked at her, her gaze lingering on Lin Qianqian’s face, her eyes slightly red, her expression a mixture of vulnerability and a quiet strength. “Okay,” she said.
She gently touched Lin Qianqian’s nose. “No more crying alone.”
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