Category: Immature Confession Day gl

Chapter 40

Silence filled the loft.

Lu Yin knelt down, organizing the boxes.

Lin Qianqian stared at her back, then at the empty wall. “Sister,” she called out.

“Mm?” Lu Yin replied, without turning around.

“Are you just going to leave the frame in the cabinet?”

It looked expensive.

“I don’t have a suitable painting for it,” Lu Yin said. “Bring the box from the living room upstairs.”

“Okay,” Lin Qianqian said, going downstairs to retrieve it.

Once she was gone, Lu Yin opened the cabinet again, the painting staring back at her.

She pushed the frame into a corner, her heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and guilt.

Perhaps it was her attempt to suppress her true self, but she couldn’t shake the feeling of unease.

She knew she shouldn’t overthink it, but her mind, when idle, always wandered to dark places.

When Lin Qianqian returned with the box, Lu Yin was making an inventory of her art supplies.

“Should I sort these?” Lin Qianqian asked, kneeling down and starting to organize the boxes.

The earlier incident, the hook, the blood, seemed forgotten, the pain in her finger a fleeting sensation, not even worth mentioning to Lu Yin.

---

Lu Yin went to the cemetery early that morning, before sunrise.

The air was cold and damp, a thick fog shrouding the tombstones, the wind whistling through the trees.

She placed two bouquets of flowers at the base of the tombstone: white chrysanthemums and irises.

The woman in the photograph on the tombstone wore a pale yellow qipao, her smile gentle, her long hair braided, the ends resting on her chest.

Lu Sui, in her youth, had been even more celebrated than Lu Yin, the only daughter of a prominent artistic family, showered with love and admiration.

As an adult, she had dedicated herself to philanthropy, her charitable acts elevating the Lu family’s reputation.

And yet, this kind and gentle woman had died from a gas leak, suffocated in her own home.

Lu Yin had arrived after the police had been called, the air thick with the smell of gas, Lu Sui lying motionless on the floor, her breath stilled.

Her father had returned three days later, weeping and wailing, lamenting the loss of his wife, leaving him and his daughter alone in the world.

Lu Yin had watched him coldly, knowing he had just received a large insurance payout.

She didn’t believe the official cause of death, didn’t believe her father’s grief.

Shortly after, Lin Yun and Lin Qianqian had moved in.

Lin Yun, flush with cash from the insurance settlement, rarely came home.

Lu Yin hadn’t blamed Lin Qianqian, focusing on caring for her instead.

Countless nights, she had considered leaving, but she hadn’t exposed the truth about Lu Sui’s death, and looking at Lin Qianqian’s innocent eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to abandon her.

Those eyes seemed to be pleading with her, Sister, don’t leave me. You’re the only one who cares about me.

And Lin Qianqian had actually said those words to her, years later.

She hadn’t seen sleeping with Lin Qianqian as revenge.

It had been desire, a forbidden longing she couldn’t escape.

Now, standing before Lu Sui’s grave, the memories weighing heavily on her heart, Lu Yin’s eyes filled with tears.

“Mom, I’m not a good daughter,” she whispered.

How could she have fallen in love with Lin Qianqian?

How could she have fallen in love with the daughter of the woman who had destroyed her family?

“Can I…can I do this?”

She looked down, tears dripping onto the irises.

“If only you were still here…you would have patted my head and told me I was a good girl,” she sobbed, kneeling down, her hands clutching the grass beside the tombstone.

“I’m sorry…I want to do what I truly want, but it’s not the art you wanted for me. Are you disappointed?”

“I don’t want to think about the past anymore. It hurts too much…” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to…”

She wanted to live now, no longer seeking escape, no longer yearning for oblivion.

Everything she had ever wanted was within reach, offered freely, unconditionally.

“I want to be with her, with Lin Qian, with my sister…” she whispered, her hand caressing the woman’s face in the photograph. “Please, if you can, bless us, bless Lin Qian and me…”

She couldn’t finish the sentence.

She wasn’t a good daughter, never living up to Lu Sui’s expectations, never reaching her heights.

She was a coward, giving up easily, her pride so fragile she had even injured her own hand to avoid facing her fears.

“Please…” she wiped her tears, forcing herself to stop crying. “This is my only wish. I don’t want anything else…”

---

That evening, Lin Qianqian opened the door to find Zhong Shiwu standing there.

“My sister isn’t home yet. She’s organizing some art supplies at the institution,” she said, not expecting a friendly conversation.

Zhong Shiwu was close to Yu Miao, and both were connected to Lu Sui.

Lin Qianqian dreaded meeting Lu Sui’s friends, their shared past a constant reminder of her own guilt.

“I’m here to see you,” Zhong Shiwu said.

“Me?” Lin Qianqian asked, surprised, seeing a hint of warmth in Zhong Shiwu’s eyes. She invited her in.

Zhong Shiwu walked over to the tea cabinet. “Do you mind if I make some tea?”

“That’s what my sister usually drinks. For her throat. I don’t really like it,” Lin Qianqian said, still hesitant. “But you can have some.”

“I heard you’re good friends with Yaoyao,” Zhong Shiwu said. “I have some questions for you.”

“Ming Yao is my friend from college. We were classmates,” Lin Qianqian said, wondering, “Does she know you’re here?”

“Of course not,” Zhong Shiwu said, studying her expression. “Will you keep this visit a secret? Just between us?”

“Sure,” Lin Qianqian said, avoiding Zhong Shiwu’s gaze, feeling like she was being scrutinized.

She felt uncomfortable in her own home, her posture stiff and formal.

Zhong Shiwu, however, seemed perfectly at ease, making tea and sipping it as if she were the host, not the guest.

She must have been here many times before, Lin Qianqian thought.

“I don’t know Yaoyao very well. Can you tell me what you think of her?” Zhong Shiwu asked. “In exchange, I can tell you something you want to know.”

Lin Qianqian paused. “Something I want to know?”

Zhong Shiwu nodded. “But you have to satisfy my curiosity first.”

“Ming Yao is kind, beautiful, and generous,” Lin Qianqian said, unable to offer her true assessment: a naive, spoiled rich girl.

“That sounds a bit generic,” Zhong Shiwu said. “Does she have any weaknesses or secrets that only you know?”

Lin Qianqian thought for a moment. “Skipping class and going to bars, does that count…?”

Zhong Shiwu considered it. “I suppose so. Anything else?”

“But she always got good grades. It didn’t affect her studies. It was just harmless fun,” Lin Qianqian added quickly. “And…failing to win someone’s affection? Does that count?”

“I suppose so.”

“He was a player. Ming Yao was the victim. She was so heartbroken,” Lin Qianqian said, determined to portray Ming Yao in a positive light.

Zhong Shiwu took a sip of tea, adding some dried flowers to the cup. The flavor was too bland. She nodded, as if taking mental notes.

She had already investigated Ming Yao thoroughly after their agreement, Lin Qianqian’s information irrelevant.

Her true purpose was to subtly reveal some things about Lu Yin to Lin Qianqian.

She was on Lu Sui’s side. Lu Sui’s daughter had suffered enough. She couldn’t directly punish the culprits, but she could at least make them care about Lu Yin, even if it was just a flicker of concern.

Because no one could influence Lu Yin, except Lin Qianqian.

“Alright, I understand. Thank you for telling me all this,” Zhong Shiwu said, finally satisfied with the tea. “Now, you can ask me anything you want.”

“How has my sister been these past four years?” Lin Qianqian asked without hesitation. “I mean, has anything happened to her…?”

“As you can see, she’s doing well. Financially secure, a partner at the art institution,” Zhong Shiwu said, her fingers miming a sip of tea. “But she hasn’t been creating much lately. Her focus seems to be on her career.”

“Speaking of which, have you seen the picture frame I sent?” she asked.

“The dark brown one?” Lin Qianqian asked. “Yes, it’s beautiful.”

“I’m looking forward to seeing it used,” Zhong Shiwu said.

“My sister said she doesn’t have a suitable painting for it yet.”

“Really?” Zhong Shiwu seemed surprised. “What about that vibrant painting…”

Lin Qianqian looked at her, her expression questioning.

“Nothing,” Zhong Shiwu said, seeing her suspicion. “Anything else you want to ask?”

Lin Qianqian’s shoulders slumped. Besides the four years she knew nothing about, she couldn’t think of anything else.

“Then I’ll be going. I have work to do at the hospital,” Zhong Shiwu said, glancing at her watch. “Being a doctor is hard work. Those night shifts are brutal.”

Lin Qianqian, unsure how to respond, simply smiled and saw her out.

Lu Yin wasn’t home yet. Lin Qianqian sat on the sofa, lost in thought, replaying her conversation with Zhong Shiwu.

She went back to the loft. The cabinet was still locked.

Lu Yin’s strange behavior the previous night resurfaced. It felt like there was a secret she hadn’t uncovered yet.

Her mind raced, but she couldn’t connect the dots.

She went to Lu Yin’s room. The notebook was gone, and so was the key.

Strange.

Her curiosity about the cabinet’s contents intensified.

Even though she had already seen what was inside.

Chapter 39

In the darkness, Lu Yin saw the amusement in Lin Qianqian’s eyes, her own vulnerability being exploited. Lin Qianqian leaned closer, her hand pressing harder against Lu Yin’s thigh.

Lu Yin looked at her, her expression unchanged. She pressed her fingers against the soft cotton, the cool tips quickly becoming damp.

Lin Qianqian’s hand moved to Lu Yin’s arm, her eyes fluttering closed, her foot instinctively nudging Lu Yin’s leg.

“What?” Lu Yin asked, her voice cool.

Lin Qianqian flinched, her eyes half-open, unable to see Lu Yin’s face clearly in the darkness.

It felt like a dream, a hazy, surreal experience.

She tugged at Lu Yin’s sleeve, her movements slow and languid, like someone drunk.

Lu Yin knew her weaknesses, knew she hadn’t changed.

Within minutes, Lin Qianqian’s grip tightened on the fabric, her hand clenching into a fist.

Lu Yin got out of bed and went to the bathroom, returning a few moments later.

Lin Qianqian hugged the duvet, then, as Lu Yin lay back down, snuggled into her arms.

Her hand touched Lu Yin’s skin, and she shivered. “Sister, your hands are cold.”

“I just washed them,” Lu Yin said, trying to avoid touching her, but Lin Qianqian took her hand.

“I’ll warm them up for you,” she mumbled, her voice muffled by the duvet.

Lu Yin knew she was tired.

It had been a long day for Lin Qianqian, the emotional rollercoaster of the hospital visit followed by her tearful confession.

And Lu Yin wasn’t in a hurry.

She had fulfilled Lin Qianqian’s birthday wish. She had done what Lin Qianqian had asked.

The rest could wait.

Lin Qianqian woke up several times during the night, her body seeking Lu Yin’s warmth, her arms tightening around her. “Sister, don’t go…” she mumbled.

“I’m not going,” Lu Yin would reply, her sleep interrupted by Lin Qianqian’s movements, her words barely audible.

Only after Lin Qianqian had fallen back asleep did Lu Yin close her eyes.

---

On Monday morning, Lu Yin drove Lin Qianqian to work, watching her cling to her hand, reluctant to leave.

“Why don’t you have classes today…?” Lin Qianqian grumbled. “It’s not fair.”

“Go inside. I’ll pick you up later,” Lu Yin said, her hand still held captive.

“I wish I could suddenly become rich. I forgot to wish for that yesterday,” Lin Qianqian said, regretting her missed opportunity. “Maybe it would have come true?”

Seeing Xu Sui approaching, she quickly released Lu Yin’s hand. “I’m going!”

Avoiding the homeroom teacher in school, avoiding the boss at work. Lin Qianqian’s eternal struggle.

Lu Yin nodded politely at Xu Sui, exchanging no further words.

Everyone was busy with their own lives, their own work. It was a comfortable, undemanding existence.

Back at the apartment, Lu Yin noticed Lin Qianqian’s presence everywhere.

The spare room, now occupied. The bathroom walls decorated with cute deer stickers.

Half-eaten snacks, sealed with hair clips, on the coffee table. Lin Qianqian’s hat and bag hanging on the coat rack.

And in her car, the deer antler hair clips on the passenger seatbelt, replacing the ones her students had given her.

Lin Qianqian had woven herself into the fabric of Lu Yin’s life, filling every empty space.

Lu Yin stood in the loft, looking at the painting, the figure no longer seeming menacing, its smile no longer mocking.

It was just a painting now.

She wouldn’t add any more details, any more life, to it. Her hope, her inspiration, was no longer confined to a canvas. It was here, beside her, in the form of Lin Qianqian.

But she still wanted Lin Qianqian to see the painting, to know that during those four years apart, she had missed her, had longed for her.

She wouldn’t burden Lin Qianqian with her own pain, her own struggles. She just wanted Lin Qianqian to know the truth about her unspoken feelings.

But first, she had to show Lin Qianqian her true self.

Even if that true self was fading away.

---

The following Monday, an unexpected patient arrived at Zhong Shiwu’s clinic.

Lu Yin.

Zhong Shiwu sat in silence for a moment, then asked, “Can you tell me what prompted this sudden desire for a follow-up appointment?”

“Isn’t recovery every patient’s goal?”

Zhong Shiwu looked at her, her smile unreadable.

She gave Lu Yin a questionnaire and scheduled an EEG.

Half an hour later, she began the consultation.

“Have you been taking your medication as prescribed?” she asked, her eyes scanning the questionnaire, a flicker of surprise in her gaze.

“I…” Lu Yin hesitated.

She had forgotten about the medication.

Since Lin Qianqian’s return, she had initially relied on the remaining pills to control her emotions.

Then, when the bottle was empty, she had forced herself to endure the emotional turmoil.

And now, she no longer needed the medication.

Her moods had stabilized, the nightmares less frequent.

“It seems you haven’t been following my instructions,” Zhong Shiwu sighed. “But your condition has improved. You can stop taking the medication for now, but keep it on hand, just in case…”

She paused, deciding not to elaborate.

As a doctor, she could only offer a professional assessment.

Lu Yin’s condition was still uncertain. A relapse was always possible.

“What are your plans now?” she asked, putting the questionnaire away. “Teacher Lu, I’m asking as a friend, not as your doctor. It would be unethical for me to pry into your personal life.”

“I’m planning to visit my mother’s grave,” Lu Yin said.

Zhong Shiwu’s smile faded, her expression turning serious. “Do you want me to come with you?”

Lu Yin shook her head. “I have some things to say to her…alone.”

“Then…” Zhong Shiwu paused. “Bring her some irises. They were her favorite.”

Zhong Shiwu seemed to understand Lu Yin’s unspoken thoughts.

She leaned forward, her hands clasped together. “Open your heart, embrace your love. Do what you want.”

She wanted to say, Don’t make the same mistakes again, but it wasn’t the right time.

“Lu Yin,” she said softly, “you’re the most remarkable person I know.”

Lu Yin smiled faintly. “Are you afraid I’ll revert back to my previous state?”

“Is it that obvious?” Zhong Shiwu admitted readily. “I am concerned, but it’s also for Lu Sui. I feel responsible.”

Lu Yin knew she was trying to reassure her, to alleviate her guilt. As she stood up to leave, she said sincerely, “Thank you, Dr. Zhong. Talking to you always makes me feel better.”

Zhong Shiwu didn’t stand up. “If our next meeting is at a cafe, not in my clinic, I’ll feel better too.”

The drive to Lin Qianqian’s office took an hour.

Even though Lin Qianqian’s work hours avoided rush hour, Lu Yin had left during peak traffic.

When she arrived, Lin Qianqian was standing outside the building, her arms crossed, shivering in the evening chill.

Seeing Lu Yin’s car, she turned her head away, refusing to acknowledge her.

She was clearly sulking, like a child whose parent was the last to arrive at pickup.

Lu Yin parked, retrieved a jacket and scarf, and walked over to her.

“Are you cold?” she asked, helping Lin Qianqian put on the jacket. Lin Qianqian dodged the scarf.

“No scarf?” Lu Yin asked, folding the scarf and draping it over her arm.

“Why are you smiling?” Lin Qianqian asked, showing her the timer on her phone. “You’re ten minutes and thirty-four seconds late. Almost eleven minutes now.”

“Traffic,” Lu Yin said, taking her hand and leading her towards the car. “Your hands are cold.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Lin Qianqian muttered.

She had grown accustomed to Lu Yin picking her up from work.

Lu Yin’s two-month teaching term had ended, and she was now free from her teaching responsibilities, her days filled with administrative tasks at the institution.

But she wasn’t in charge of admissions, and most of the teachers were hired on a contract basis. Once the training courses ended, she had very little to do.

During these idle periods, Zhong Shiwu, worried about Lu Yin’s mental state, would often take her sketching.

But now, Lu Yin’s time was occupied by Lin Qianqian, her days revolving around Lin Qianqian’s needs and whims.

Back at the apartment, a beautifully wrapped box sat on the coffee table.

Lin Qianqian looked at Lu Yin, picked up the box, and held it in her arms. “What’s this?”

“A gift,” Lu Yin replied.

Lin Qianqian opened it without hesitation, revealing a dark brown picture frame with intricate carvings.

“It’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, showing it to Lu Yin. “Sister!”

Lu Yin looked up, remembering Zhong Shiwu mentioning the frame had been delivered.

She had shipped all her belongings home, planning to unpack and organize everything later. She had signed for the package this morning without really looking at it.

She glanced at the frame, seeing nothing unusual in Lin Qianqian’s expression. “Put it away,” she said.

“Where?” Lin Qianqian asked. “It’s too beautiful to just put away. We should frame a picture and hang it up.”

Lu Yin thought for a moment. “Put it by the window in the loft. I’ll organize everything later.”

“Okay,” Lin Qianqian said, carrying the frame upstairs.

The area by the window was cluttered with various items. Lin Qianqian was hesitant to move anything, afraid of disrupting Lu Yin’s system.

And she didn’t want to just leave the beautiful frame there, so she looked around for a suitable place.

There was space inside the cabinet, alongside Lu Yin’s awards and trophies, but it was locked. She tried the lock, but it wouldn’t open.

Her gaze fell on the empty wall, the hook still there.

She touched it. It was clean, free of dust.

If Lu Yin hadn’t mentioned hanging a new painting there, she would have assumed it was being used regularly.

Lin Qianqian paused, then hung the frame on the hook.

Her eyes widened. It fit perfectly, the hook securely holding the frame, as if custom-made.

She tried to remove it, curious about how it was attached, her fingers exploring the narrow gap between the frame and the hook.

Her fingertip brushed against something sharp, and she winced, pulling her hand back, a small bead of blood welling up.

Hearing footsteps, she turned around and saw Lu Yin. “Look at this hook! It almost impaled me!” she complained, showing Lu Yin her injured finger.

Lu Yin walked over, removed the frame, and touched the hook, her fingertip smudged with blood.

“I’m going to remove this hook!” Lin Qianqian declared, then, seeing Lu Yin’s silence, looked at her.

Lu Yin’s gaze was intense, her expression unreadable.

“Why aren’t you saying anything? It almost impaled me! I’m bleeding…” Lin Qianqian poked Lu Yin’s arm with her injured finger. “It hurts.”

Lu Yin finally reacted, taking her finger and gently sucking on it. “It won’t hurt you,” she said softly.

Lin Qianqian was confused, sensing the heaviness in Lu Yin’s gaze. “Of course it won’t hurt me…I was just…you know…exaggerating…”

Lu Yin knelt down, opened the locked cabinet, placed the frame inside, and locked it again.

Less than a minute.

Lin Qianqian sensed something was wrong. “Sister…”

Lu Yin took a deep breath, then smiled. “What?”

“What’s wrong?” Lin Qianqian asked. “What are you thinking about?”

Lu Yin didn’t answer, pulling Lin Qianqian into her arms, her hand stroking Lin Qianqian’s hair, her touch almost possessive.

The empty frame won’t trap Lin Qianqian. It won’t…

And she won’t be replaced by the figure in my dreams. She won’t…

I’ll lock it all away. Then everything will be fine.

Chapter 38

Lin Qianqian had cried in front of Lu Yin countless times, for countless reasons.

But this was only the second time she had pleaded with Lu Yin, tears streaming down her face.

Lu Yin remembered the first time vividly. Four years ago, as she packed her bags, preparing to leave, Lin Qianqian had begged her to stay.

“Don’t leave me, Sister…”

The memory merging with the present, Lu Yin was speechless.

She gently stroked Lin Qianqian’s hair, a sense of relief washing over her, the answer she had been searching for finally within reach.

And it had been four years.

No more avoidance, no more hiding. Lin Qianqian had finally expressed her true feelings, openly and honestly.

“I won’t leave,” Lu Yin said softly.

“Are you hurt?” Lin Qianqian pulled away, her gaze searching Lu Yin’s face, her body, for any sign of injury. “We should get you checked out…”

“I’m fine,” Lu Yin shook her head. “Why are you crying so much?”

“I was just worried,” Lin Qianqian said, looping her arm through Lu Yin’s, relieved she was unharmed. “I wouldn’t care if it was anyone else.”

Lu Yin’s eyes softened. “Let’s go home.”

Lin Qianqian held her hand tightly, afraid to let go, her steps small and hesitant.

In the car, Lu Yin wiped Lin Qianqian’s face with a wet wipe.

Her tears had dried, leaving streaks on her cheeks, her eyes red and puffy, her appearance almost childlike.

The air was cold, the moisture from her tears clinging to her skin.

“Are you cold?” Lu Yin asked, gently touching the corner of her eye, adjusting her collar.

Lin Qianqian shook her head, her mind still reeling from her emotional outburst. She glanced at the cake box in her lap.

“I asked them to add a layer of green grass and a small deer-shaped chocolate,” Lu Yin said. “Is that what you wanted?”

Lin Qianqian’s voice caught in her throat. “I like anything you buy, Sister.”

She paused, then pointed at the cake. “But I love this one.”

Lu Yin chuckled, noticing a flash of red on Lin Qianqian’s wrist as she moved her hand.

She took Lin Qianqian’s wrist, seeing a tangled piece of red rope, the ends frayed, the knots messy.

Lin Qianqian quickly pulled her hand away.

“Where did you get that?” Lu Yin asked, her eyes twinkling with amusement, already knowing the answer.

“I…I don’t know…” Lin Qianqian tugged at the rope, trying to remove it.

But the knots were tight, the rope digging into her skin.

“You don’t know?” Lu Yin asked again.

“I don’t know is I don’t know! Why do you keep asking…?” Lin Qianqian’s blush deepened.

Lu Yin gently took her wrist again, her grip firm as Lin Qianqian tried to pull away.

She found the knot and untied the tangled mess, rubbing Lin Qianqian’s reddened skin. “Do you like this?” she asked casually.

“What?” Lin Qianqian asked, then, realizing what Lu Yin meant, quickly replied, “No!”

Who would admit to liking that?

It was just a silly attempt to get Lu Yin’s attention.

Lu Yin held her wrist, opening the picture on her phone.

“Consider yourself rescued?” she asked, holding the phone just out of Lin Qianqian’s reach.

“No!” Lin Qianqian protested. “You didn’t rescue me.”

She looked at her wrist. “This doesn’t count either!”

“Fine,” Lu Yin said. “Then I’ll rescue you next time.”

“Okay,” Lin Qianqian agreed without thinking, then realized her mistake. “There is no next time…”

“Don’t you want to play this game anymore?” Lu Yin asked, looking at her.

Lin Qianqian’s hand patted the cake box absently. “It’s not that…”

She had been arguing with Lu Yin about something ridiculous.

She could never win against Lu Yin in these situations, resorting to childish tantrums. She pursed her lips and fell silent.

“Why aren’t you talking?” Lu Yin asked, seeing her quiet.

“It’s my birthday. You’re not allowed to say anything I don’t want to hear, including what you just said!” Lin Qianqian declared, using her birthday as leverage.

She was feeling generous. She wouldn’t make Lu Yin her servant for the day.

“Which part don’t you want me to repeat?” Lu Yin asked, starting the car, waiting for her answer.

“You’re doing this on purpose…” Lin Qianqian muttered, still confused by Lu Yin’s behavior.

She had thought Lu Yin had been moved by her confession, but now, she was back to her usual teasing.

But saying those words aloud had been liberating.

“From now on, you can only say things I want to hear!”

“Like what?” Lu Yin asked, driving out of the parking garage.

“Like, ‘I love you,’ or ‘I’ll work hard and support you forever,’ or ‘Let’s sleep together tonight,’” Lin Qianqian offered a few examples.

“You already said those things,” Lu Yin said, smiling. “I heard you.”

“I’m talking about you!” Lin Qianqian said, her voice firm. “It’s my birthday. Don’t try to change the subject!”

“I’ll do as you say.”

Lin Qianqian froze, clutching the cake box, her throat tightening.

Tears welled up in her eyes, dripping onto the plastic bag.

She was so pathetic.

Lu Yin hadn’t even said anything meaningful, just agreed with her childish demands, and she was already overwhelmed with emotion.

“Are you serious…?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, afraid of the answer.

“You think I’m lying?” Lu Yin asked, accelerating slightly, eager to get home. “Then I take it back.”

“No, I believe you…” Lin Qianqian rubbed her eyes, wiping the tears from the plastic bag, but they kept coming.

She wanted to hear more, wanted confirmation of Lu Yin’s past feelings.

But she knew she couldn’t push it.

They arrived home. Lu Yin carried the cake, her hand holding Lin Qianqian’s, their steps lighter than they had been at the hospital.

The late autumn sky darkened quickly.

“Dinner first, or candles?” Lu Yin asked, placing the cake on the table.

Lin Qianqian, standing silently behind her, suddenly jumped forward, her arms wrapping around Lu Yin’s neck, her toes barely touching the ground.

“Sister, kiss me,” she whispered.

Lu Yin obliged, her hands on Lin Qianqian’s waist, steadying her, her lips brushing against Lin Qianqian’s.

A quick, fleeting kiss.

Lin Qianqian whined, unsatisfied.

Lu Yin patted her head. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“Yes,” Lin Qianqian said, pulling her towards the bedroom. “But I want something else first.”

Lu Yin, seeing her intentions, lifted her onto the table and kissed her again.

Lin Qianqian looked up at her, Lu Yin’s eyes soft and warm, like a spring morning.

A single glance, and she was lost.

She kissed Lu Yin back, her own kiss demanding, insistent, reminding Lu Yin who was in charge today.

Lu Yin’s tongue traced her lips, their breaths mingling, the kiss deepening.

Lin Qianqian’s mind went blank, the proximity of Lu Yin’s face, the intensity of the kiss, erasing all thoughts of the bedroom, the bed.

When Lu Yin pulled away to open the cake box, Lin Qianqian finally got off the table.

She watched as Lu Yin took out the number candles, 2 and 4, and reached out to stop her. “Sister…”

“What?”

“Can we use 1 and 9 instead?” Lin Qianqian asked, unsure if Lu Yin would agree. She wanted to continue where they had left off, before her nineteenth birthday, before their separation.

Lu Yin didn’t reply, but she understood.

She replaced the candles without hesitation.

The lights were turned off, the only illumination coming from the setting sun and the flickering candles, their soft glow highlighting their faces. Lin Qianqian felt closer to Lu Yin now.

She wasn’t the aloof, solitary deer anymore, but rather a creature of warmth and light, finally turning towards the sun.

Lin Qianqian closed her eyes, her hands clasped together.

“First wish, I wish for Sister to be safe and healthy.”

“Second wish, I wish for Sister to be with me forever.”

“Third wish…”

She finally opened her eyes.

“—I wish for Sister to have always loved me, now and forever.”

The question she couldn’t ask, she offered as a wish, hoping it would somehow come true.

She hugged Lu Yin. “Sister, will my wishes come true?” she asked, her voice filled with a childlike hope.

All her wishes depended on Lu Yin.

Lu Yin smiled. “They will.”

“Then I have one more birthday request.”

“What?”

“Sleep with me.”

Lu Yin readily agreed.

After dinner, Lin Qianqian carried her pillow to Lu Yin’s room.

Lying in bed, listening to the sounds from the bathroom, she couldn’t understand.

They were close now, intimate. Shouldn’t they be taking things further than just kissing?

Why was Lu Yin so hesitant?

She had tried everything: flirting, stealing kisses, even the embarrassing rope incident. Lu Yin knew how she felt.

Why wasn’t she responding?

She removed her clothes, inhaling the scent of Lu Yin’s pillow, her mind racing.

Lu Yin returned to the bedroom, seeing the pajamas folded neatly on the chair, and knew Lin Qianqian was sleeping naked again.

She was used to it, placing the pajamas on the back of the chair and lying down beside Lin Qianqian, who immediately snuggled close, her bare skin warm against Lu Yin’s.

Lu Yin shivered as the cold air rushed in.

“Sister, take your clothes off…” Lin Qianqian whispered, her hand sliding under Lu Yin’s pajama top. “Do you understand what I mean by ‘sleeping together’…?”

“I didn’t agree to that as your birthday present,” Lu Yin said, stopping her hand. “Go to sleep. It’s a work night.”

She paused, then asked, “How long have you been off work?”

“Why do you care?” Lin Qianqian nuzzled Lu Yin’s neck, kissing her softly. “I hate working.”

Lin Qianqian was about to check the time, but she was sure it wasn’t midnight yet. She tugged at Lu Yin’s collar. “It’s not midnight yet! You’re saying things I don’t want to hear again!”

“Fine, I won’t say anything,” Lu Yin said, her exhaustion catching up with her.

Holding Lin Qianqian close, she felt her resolve weakening.

Lin Qianqian’s leg slid between hers, her knee resting against Lu Yin’s thigh, her arms tightening around Lu Yin’s waist.

“Sister…” she whispered, her voice soft and clingy.

Lu Yin frowned, kissing her lips softly.

Lin Qianqian had thought it was the beginning, but it was just a goodnight kiss.

In the darkness, she saw Lu Yin’s eyes close.

“I hit my knee today. It really hurts,” she said.

Lu Yin’s eyes fluttered open. “Is it bad?”

“It’s all red and swollen. But I was too worried about you to look closely.”

Lin Qianqian was trying to guilt Lu Yin, hoping to exploit her concern.

“Here?” Lu Yin asked, her hand finding Lin Qianqian’s knee under the covers, gently massaging it.

“No, the other leg.”

“Then bring it over,” Lu Yin said, unable to reach with Lin Qianqian’s leg between hers. “We should put some ice on it. Otherwise, it’ll bruise.”

“Then give me your hand,” Lin Qianqian said, taking Lu Yin’s hand and guiding it to her other leg.

Lu Yin’s fingers brushed against the cotton fabric of Lin Qianqian’s underwear and quickly retreated.

“Hey! Where are you touching?” Lin Qianqian giggled, interpreting it as a sign of Lu Yin’s own desire.

Lu Yin sighed, her head throbbing. “Hurry up. It’s late.”

“Fine…” Lin Qianqian said, feigning disappointment, placing Lu Yin’s hand back on her leg, over her underwear.

“Right here, Sister. Massage it for me.”

Chapter 37

What is she up to now?

Lu Yin saw through Lin Qianqian’s ploy, but couldn’t think of a suitable response.

She didn’t reply, deciding to wait until she got home with the cake.

Zhong Shiwu had messaged her, saying she was on her way to the hospital and asking Lu Yin to stop by and pick up some diagnostic reports.

They communicated frequently, but rarely met in person.

Lu Yin arrived at the hospital first and waited in her car for Zhong Shiwu to contact her.

She looked at the picture Lin Qianqian had sent, wondering how angry she was by now.

She considered sending a placating message, afraid Lin Qianqian would be too upset to even appreciate the cake.

Suddenly, a three-wheeled vehicle crashed into the front of her car.

An elderly man jumped out, yelling and gathering a crowd, claiming Lu Yin had hit him.

Lu Yin got out of the car. Before she could speak, the man collapsed on the ground.

Recognizing the scam for what it was – a brazen attempt to extort money by staging a fake accident – Lu Yin calmly called the police.

The dashcam footage clearly showed her car parked at the curb, the man deliberately colliding with her.

The man, seeing Lu Yin’s lack of reaction, started wailing about his difficult life, hoping to guilt her into giving him money.

Lu Yin frowned. This was going to take a while.

She had cleared her schedule for today, not for this nonsense.

“There’s a hospital right there. You can get checked out. I’ll cover all the expenses,” she said, annoyed by the man’s increasingly dramatic performance.

That only seemed to enrage him further. He accused her of being arrogant and uncaring, refusing to take responsibility for her actions.

When the police arrived, Lu Yin showed them the dashcam footage.

The man, after seeing the video, quickly got up, dusted himself off, and stopped his theatrics.

The situation was resolved quickly, but the police asked Lu Yin to give a statement.

She was short on time. This would take hours.

As she hesitated, Zhong Shiwu arrived, glanced at the man, and spoke to the police.

The man was taken away in a police car, and Lu Yin was no longer required to give a statement.

As they walked into the hospital, Zhong Shiwu explained, “He’s a known scammer. He targets private hospitals, hoping to find people who are willing to pay him to go away. Sometimes he gets lucky.”

Lu Yin hadn’t received any new messages from Lin Qianqian, and she felt a surge of anxiety. “Someone should do something about him.”

“They’ve tried. It doesn’t work. He always comes back,” Zhong Shiwu said, searching for the reports. “There’s no real punishment for this kind of scam. The police can only give him a warning.”

She rummaged through a drawer. “Where are they?” she muttered.

Lu Yin’s phone rang. It was Yu Miao, asking about the student portfolios.

Lu Yin told her to access her work computer and she would email them. Yu Miao mentioned a student had just arrived for class, saying she had seen a car accident near the hospital, but she wasn’t sure if it was Lu Yin.

“It was me,” Lu Yin admitted. “Not an accident, just a scam.”

“Are you okay?” Yu Miao asked, concerned.

“I’m fine.”

Lu Yin turned off her phone’s ringer, not wanting to be disturbed.

She looked at Zhong Shiwu.

“I think I left them in the other room,” Zhong Shiwu said, checking the adjacent room and returning. “The door is locked. That girl should be here around noon. We’ll just have to wait.”

Lu Yin nodded.

---

Lin Qianqian had expected Lu Yin to be moved by her picture, to promise to come home after her classes.

But after half an hour of staring at the chat window, there was still no reply.

She sat on the floor, the red rope still tangled around her, her phone clutched in her hand.

It was her birthday!

Was Lu Yin really going to ignore her and spend the entire day teaching?

She hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since waking up, too preoccupied with her elaborate plan.

Her stomach rumbled, but she ignored it, preparing to rip the ropes off and go to the art institution.

But the knots were tight, and the more she pulled, the tighter they became.

She stood up to find some scissors, tripping over the rope and almost falling, her knee hitting the corner of the table. A sharp pain shot through her leg, bringing tears to her eyes, her anger at Lu Yin intensifying.

She cut the ropes, gathering the tangled mess and stuffing it into a bag.

She left the apartment, took a taxi, and headed straight for the art institution.

She wouldn’t message Lu Yin, wouldn’t call her. She would confront her in person, demanding an explanation.

When she arrived, she checked the schedule and went to Lu Yin’s classroom, but a different teacher was teaching.

She went to the office.

The office door was usually open during work hours.

She peeked inside, seeing someone sitting at Lu Yin’s desk.

The other desks were empty.

She stepped inside, her eyes meeting Yu Miao’s.

“Xiao Lu isn’t here. What do you need?” Yu Miao asked, copying a list of names and then sitting back down at her desk.

“Where is my sister teaching?” Lin Qianqian asked, uncomfortable around Yu Miao, who had always been distant and aloof.

Because of Lu Sui, Yu Miao had never shown any interest in getting closer to her, and Lin Qianqian could sense it.

“She doesn’t have any classes today. She’s at the hospital,” Yu Miao said.

“The hospital?” Lin Qianqian’s heart sank. “Is someone sick?”

If Lu Yin was at the hospital during work hours, it must be because of a student.

Yu Miao shook her head. “I think there was a car accident. I don’t know how serious it is.”

Lin Qianqian froze, her mind going blank. “Which…which hospital…?”

Yu Miao gave her the name, and Lin Qianqian instantly recognized it as the same hospital she had visited with Ming Yao.

Panic set in. By the time she got into a taxi, tears were streaming down her face.

Why was she so stubborn?

It was just a birthday. She could have celebrated alone. Why bother Lu Yin, demanding she come home when she had classes?

And when Lu Yin didn’t reply, she had bombarded her with messages.

She called Lu Yin, her voice choked with sobs, but the call went unanswered.

Her panic escalated, her mind filled with worst-case scenarios.

She hadn’t achieved anything yet, hadn’t even begun to mend their relationship. If something happened to Lu Yin, she didn’t want to live.

At the hospital, she gave Lu Yin’s name at the reception desk, but they couldn’t find any record of her.

She tried to describe Lu Yin, but realized she didn’t even know what Lu Yin was wearing today.

The nurse, seeing her distress, tried to comfort her, telling her to calm down and think.

“Her name is Lu Yin. Lu like ‘reindeer,’ Yin like ‘singing,’” she said, unable to offer any further details.

She realized why she always talked about the past. She knew nothing about Lu Yin’s present life.

She couldn’t even describe her to a stranger.

Lu Yin always answered her questions, but she hadn’t asked the right ones.

She should have abandoned her playful banter and asked Lu Yin about her life these past four years. She had come back to be with Lu Yin, to support her.

But now, Lu Yin was in a car accident, and she couldn’t even find her.

She paced back and forth in the hospital lobby, hoping Lu Yin would magically appear.

She suddenly remembered Zhong Shiwu. Maybe she could help.

But she didn’t have Zhong Shiwu’s number, so she went back to the reception desk.

“Dr. Zhong?” the nurse hesitated. “You need an appointment.”

“Please, just help me contact her…” Lin Qianqian pleaded, her tears flowing freely, but the nurse could only offer her a tissue.

She would have to try her luck at the clinic.

She ran towards the psychiatry department, located in a separate building. Despite her usual directional challenges, her panic sharpened her focus, and she quickly found Zhong Shiwu’s clinic.

Lu Yin had just picked up the diagnostic reports when she saw Lin Qianqian standing in the hallway.

Her eyes were red and puffy, her cheeks flushed, her expression filled with a mixture of fear and relief.

“Sister…” Lin Qianqian ran towards her, her arms wrapping around Lu Yin’s waist. “You scared me…I thought you were…”

“Don’t say such things,” Lu Yin said, holding her close, her hand stroking Lin Qianqian’s hair, comforting her.

Zhong Shiwu, observing their interaction, noticed a subtle shift in Lu Yin’s demeanor, a softening she hadn’t seen before.

She quietly left the room.

“Why didn’t you answer my calls? Or my messages? I sent you a picture this morning…”

Lu Yin retrieved her phone, noticing several missed calls from Lin Qianqian. She had turned off the ringer and hadn’t seen them.

Guilt washed over her. She had silenced her phone to avoid work-related distractions, but she had inadvertently shut out the one person she wanted to hear from.

Lin Qianqian’s hand, still clutching Lu Yin’s waist, accidentally bumped against the cake box.

“I don’t want a birthday anymore. You can hate me, you can kick me out, I just want you to be safe,” Lin Qianqian sobbed, her vision blurred by tears.

“I bought you a cake, rescheduled my classes. Why wouldn’t you want to celebrate?” Lu Yin asked, her voice gentle.

“I thought you wouldn’t…” Lin Qianqian said, Lu Yin’s voice, so soft and warm, reminding her of a time when Lu Yin had indulged her every whim.

Lu Yin looked down at her. “You’re so gullible. You believe everything I say?”

“What else can I do? I have to listen to you. I’m afraid you’ll hate me, afraid you’ll send me away…” Lin Qianqian’s earlier defiance crumbled. “I wanted to see you. I’ve been waiting for four years. I didn’t want to leave before. I never wanted to leave you…”

Her tears and snot smeared Lu Yin’s clothes, but she didn’t care.

“I’ve always loved you, Sister…” she sobbed, her tears flowing freely, her fear giving way to a torrent of emotions. “Even if you don’t love me back, I have to tell you…”

She had been afraid, but now, she was terrified of losing this opportunity.

She regretted not defending Lu Yin years ago, when she had been subjected to cruel gossip and accusations. She had hidden behind her mother, watching Lu Yin’s smile fade, her heart breaking.

She had tried to forget, to convince herself she had been too young, too immature, too afraid to face the consequences, leaving Lu Yin to bear the brunt of the criticism alone.

But the guilt had lingered, a constant reminder of her cowardice.

She had hurt Lu Yin, destroying her last, her only hope.

Now, she didn’t want answers, only to express her own feelings, her own truth.

She loved Lu Yin, her sister.

And what was wrong with loving your sister?

It was the purest form of love…

“Lin Qian,” Lu Yin said softly, wiping away her tears.

“Don’t scold me…” Lin Qianqian pleaded, afraid Lu Yin would silence her again. “I’m telling the truth…”

“I’m not drunk, and I’m not being unreasonable…I mean every word…”

“Please believe me…I really love you…”

“I don’t care what anyone else says. I just want to be with you…Let them say whatever they want!”

“They’re all assholes, all of them. Only you were ever kind to me…”

“I was with you before, and I want to be with you forever…”

“You only want to take care of me for ten years? I don’t want that!”

“I want you to take care of me forever!”

Chapter 36

After her shower, Lin Qianqian realized the pajamas she had grabbed were too revealing.

The V-neck dipped low, and without a bra, she risked accidental exposure.

Even if Lu Yin was the only other person in the apartment, she couldn’t walk around like this.

Her own pajamas were neatly folded in her closet, but she wouldn’t miss an opportunity to bother Lu Yin.

She knocked on Lu Yin’s door, still wearing the ill-fitting pajamas.

The room was dark. Lu Yin must be asleep.

She knocked again.

“Sister!” she called out, considering calling Lu Yin’s phone.

The door opened.

A hand pulled her inside, and before she could react, she was pressed against the door, Lu Yin’s lips on hers, a passionate kiss.

“Sister…” she whispered, the word lost between their lips, her intended question forgotten.

Lu Yin opened her eyes, memorizing Lin Qianqian’s expression, the soft, hazy look in her eyes, the silent invitation in her gaze.

The kiss deepened, their tongues tangling.

Lu Yin’s hands cupped Lin Qianqian’s face, her thumbs tracing her jawline, then her collarbone.

Lin Qianqian shivered, her head tilting back against the door, then forward again, seeking Lu Yin’s touch.

But the kiss remained just a kiss, no further intimacy offered.

The anticipation that had built within her slowly dissipated, replaced by a frustrated yearning.

She reached for her pajama top, wanting to remove it, but Lu Yin stopped her.

Lin Qianqian tried to push Lu Yin away, needing space to undress, but Lu Yin’s embrace was firm.

Was this woman oblivious?

Or was she deliberately teasing her?

Had their separation turned her cold, distant?

All talk and no action?

Lin Qianqian’s mind raced, her unanswered questions fueling her frustration, her desire unfulfilled.

She pushed Lu Yin away with more force, and Lu Yin, sensing her frustration, stepped back.

Lin Qianqian pressed forward, pushing Lu Yin onto the bed. “Lu Yin!”

Lu Yin’s hands braced against the bed as Lin Qianqian straddled her, her brow furrowing slightly.

She finally noticed Lin Qianqian’s revealing pajama top, the neckline gaping open.

Lu Yin adjusted the fabric, realizing the pajamas were too small for Lin Qianqian.

“What do you want?” she asked.

“To change my clothes,” Lin Qianqian said, looking down at her neckline. “But I don’t think that’s necessary anymore.”

She leaned down and kissed Lu Yin again.

Lu Yin didn’t respond, her passivity fueling Lin Qianqian’s frustration.

“What are you doing…?” she asked, feeling like her earlier protests had been ignored.

One rule for Lu Yin, another for her.

Lu Yin could kiss her whenever, wherever, but when she kissed Lu Yin, she was met with this frustrating indifference.

“I feel uncomfortable…” Lin Qianqian said, her voice filled with a childish petulance.

“Where?” Lu Yin asked, her face softening with concern, assuming she was still unwell.

“Here,” Lin Qianqian grabbed Lu Yin’s hand and placed it between her legs.

Lu Yin swatted her hand away, trying to sit up.

Lin Qianqian slid down Lu Yin’s legs, almost falling off the bed before Lu Yin caught her.

“Do you want to change your pajamas?” Lu Yin asked. Lin Qianqian shook her head. “Then go back to your room.”

“No,” Lin Qianqian said, clinging to Lu Yin’s waist.

Lu Yin stood up, Lin Qianqian clinging to her like a koala, her legs wrapped around Lu Yin’s.

“I want to sleep with you tonight. Okay?” Lin Qianqian looked up at her. “Here, or in my room.”

Lu Yin sighed, giving in, and carried her back to the bed.

Lin Qianqian’s face lit up. She pulled the duvet over herself. “Come sleep with me,” she said, her voice playful.

Lu Yin ignored her, lying down beside her, sharing the blanket.

Lin Qianqian draped her arms and legs over Lu Yin, nuzzling her neck. “Sister, you smell so good. Let me smell you.”

She leaned closer, kissing Lu Yin softly.

Lu Yin’s head throbbed, but she couldn’t bring herself to scold Lin Qianqian, her anger always fading in the face of Lin Qianqian’s affection.

She closed her eyes, accepting her fate.

That night, the nightmares didn’t return. She only felt the warmth of Lin Qianqian’s body pressed against hers, her embrace tight and unrelenting.

Lin Qianqian dreamt of waking up in her lover’s arms, their morning sealed with a kiss, but Lu Yin didn’t indulge her fantasies.

She woke up alone, the bed cold beside her.

It was almost noon. Whenever she slept with Lu Yin, she always slept deeply, as if drugged.

But she didn’t have time to dwell on it. It was Saturday. Her birthday was tomorrow.

Lu Yin hadn’t mentioned her birthday gift. She had to find a way to bring it up again.

If all else failed, she would storm into the art institution and drag Lu Yin away.

The memory of last night’s frustrated encounter resurfaced. She finished her breakfast, a plan forming in her mind.

She retrieved a skimpy summer outfit from her suitcase.

She ordered some red rope online and watched a few self-bondage tutorials.

It was her birthday. She would let Lu Yin unwrap her present.

But the tutorials were complicated, and she couldn’t see her own back. The red rope tangled around her arms and neck, the intricate knots beyond her understanding, leaving only a series of red marks on her skin.

She wanted to send Lu Yin a picture, complaining about her struggles, but she didn’t want to reveal her plan.

That evening, as she eagerly awaited Lu Yin’s return, a message arrived. Lu Yin was staying at the institution tonight.

Lin Qianqian resisted the urge to go to her, tossing the rope onto the table in frustration.

So much for her elaborate plan.

---

That evening, after her last class, Lu Yin browsed birthday cakes online.

Yu Miao entered the office, gesturing towards a list of student names on Lu Yin’s desk.

“I thought it would take you a few days to finish this. I just got back, and I’m already swamped,” Yu Miao said, glancing at Lu Yin’s laptop screen. “Isn’t your birthday in the spring?”

“No, it’s not mine,” Lu Yin said, then, thinking better of it, added, “Just looking at cakes.”

“For your sister?” Yu Miao asked, knowing the real reason. “No wonder you rescheduled your classes again. You never missed a class, even when you were sick. This is the second time this month.”

“It’s important,” Lu Yin said vaguely, messaging the bakery, asking about custom designs.

After confirming the details, she put her phone away.

She didn’t have many classes today, but she had crammed them all into a single day to free up her schedule for tomorrow.

Five classes back-to-back.

She had messaged Lin Qianqian, but hadn’t received a reply. She could imagine Lin Qianqian sulking, and a smile touched her lips.

The next morning, Lu Yin went to the bakery.

She glanced at the calendar. December 12th.

Two weeks until Christmas.

Lin Qianqian had always insisted on celebrating Christmas with her, just because her last name was Lu.

Lin Qianqian would even wear a Santa costume and cuddle her, pretending she was a reindeer, claiming it was warm and fuzzy.

Besides her last name, Lu Yin couldn’t see any resemblance between herself and a deer.

Eating grass, celebrating Christmas…Lin Qianqian always found a way to connect the most unrelated things.

But it had added color to her palette, to her life.

As a child, Lu Sui had taken her to art exhibitions, where she had been praised for her talent, her artistic genius.

After Lin Qianqian entered her life, the compliments shifted, focusing on her vibrancy, her expressiveness. It was why she had chosen watercolors as her medium.

But after their separation, she had lost her inspiration, her paintings feeling dull and lifeless, the joy gone from her work.

She had left the house early, hoping to return quickly, but the morning traffic was heavy.

While waiting at a red light, Zhong Shiwu sent a picture of a dark brown frame with intricate carvings.

She asked for Lu Yin’s opinion, offering to make changes or connect her with the designer directly.

Lu Yin, not particularly interested, simply replied that it was fine, leaving the decision to Zhong Shiwu.

She parked at the bakery and retrieved the cake, sitting back down in her car.

Zhong Shiwu pointed out a few details, suggesting some modifications.

Lu Yin glanced at the time. It was still early. Lin Qianqian was probably still asleep. She replied to Zhong Shiwu, their conversation a welcome distraction.

Zhong Shiwu seemed to be in a good mood, free from work, otherwise she wouldn’t be chatting with Lu Yin.

Lu Yin sent a teasing message, and Zhong Shiwu laughed.

A cup of black coffee and a pastry sat on the dashboard, along with a small timer displaying the calories burned.

She had been supervising Ming Yao’s morning jogs and evening exercises for so long that she could now track Ming Yao’s progress based on the calories burned.

[Zhong Shiwu: Raising a child is hard work.]

Lu Yin understood, not wanting to intrude. Zhong Shiwu’s situation was even more complicated than her own.

As she was about to start the car, her phone buzzed again. She assumed it was Zhong Shiwu, but it was Lin Qianqian, and Lu Yin’s head began to throb.

Lin Qianqian had sent a picture of herself tied up with red rope, the knots loose and clearly staged.

[Lin Qian: Little Grass is trapped! Reschedule your classes and come home to rescue her!]

Chapter 35

Before bed, under Lu Yin’s watchful eye, Lin Qianqian took her temperature again. It had risen back to 38 degrees Celsius.

She had lied and snuck out of the house, escaping punishment only through sheer luck. She wouldn’t push it.

Lu Yin had completely revamped her diet, eliminating anything oily or spicy. Her meals were now bland and tasteless.

For someone who enjoyed flavorful food, it was torture.

But her fever was persistent, subsiding during the day, only to return at night.

She had been off work for several days, at Lu Yin’s insistence. Even with a full teaching schedule, Lu Yin would come home at lunchtime to check on her, issuing warnings and reprimands, afraid she would sneak out again.

Lin Qianqian felt like a caged bird, though she wouldn’t have minded being caged by Lu Yin, locked away forever.

The only reason she wanted to recover was so she could properly celebrate her birthday!

But she wasn’t idle. Since Lu Yin wasn’t giving her what she wanted, she wouldn’t be a well-behaved patient.

She searched every drawer, every corner of the apartment, but couldn’t find the key to the loft cabinet. She had been everywhere except Lu Yin’s room.

She was tempted to pick the lock with a toothpick, but she was afraid it would break off inside, revealing her snooping.

As she paced back and forth outside Lu Yin’s room, her curiosity battling her conscience, she heard the sound of the door opening.

She rushed back to the sofa, picked up her cold water, and took a large sip, pretending to be engrossed in her drink.

Lu Yin picked up the medicine from the coffee table. “You haven’t taken this yet?”

“It’s almost gone. My fever’s down, and it hasn’t come back,” Lin Qianqian blinked innocently. “Sister?”

Lu Yin looked at her, then picked up the empty water pitcher, glancing at Lin Qianqian’s glass.

“Can I borrow some pajamas from your room tomorrow?” Lin Qianqian asked tentatively. “I want to take a shower when I’m better, but all my pajamas are damp from the rain.”

“Sure,” Lu Yin said, pouring her a glass of warm water. “Drink this.”

After making sure Lin Qianqian took her medicine, Lu Yin went to her room.

She looked at the key to the loft cabinet, the only one, removed it from her key ring, and placed it on the table beside her bed, hidden inside a book.

It was too obvious, so she added a few more books on top.

If Lin Qianqian wanted to snoop, she might as well make it easy for her. Her curiosity wouldn’t be satisfied otherwise.

But Lu Yin still felt a headache coming on, knowing Lin Qianqian would ransack her room tomorrow, carefully restoring everything to its original position afterwards.

She looked at the unopened medication Zhong Shiwu had prescribed, wondering if she should lock it away in the living room drawer.

Lin Qianqian was strangely selective in her snooping, ignoring the obvious hiding places, preferring to invade Lu Yin’s personal space.

And Lu Yin had to play along, protecting Lin Qianqian’s pride, her carefully constructed facade of innocence.

---

Lin Qianqian woke up early the next morning, eager to see Lu Yin off to work, handing her her bag with a cheerful smile.

Lu Yin’s expression was a mixture of amusement and exasperation, seeing through Lin Qianqian’s charade but finding her antics endearing.

Once Lu Yin left, Lin Qianqian rushed to her room. It looked different from her brief visit before, but she hadn’t really paid attention then.

She examined the desk, the neatly stacked drawing paper, the black pen holder.

The drawers contained various art supplies, nothing else of interest.

She wasn’t sure if this was a second studio or a second bedroom, its purpose, like the loft, a combination of work and rest.

She retrieved a set of pajamas and took them to her room, afraid she would forget later.

Looking at the pillow on the bed, she hesitated, then swapped it with the one from her own room. She could sleep with the scent of Lu Yin again.

After a thorough search, she finally found the key to the loft cabinet, hidden inside a book on the table beside the bed.

It had been right there all along, while she had been searching everywhere else.

Just a single key, tucked inside an ordinary-looking book.

The cabinet must contain something important, something secret.

Lin Qianqian rushed to the loft, the key easily unlocking the cabinet. She paused, glancing behind her.

No one. But she felt a shiver run down her spine.

She took a picture of the cabinet’s contents, just in case.

It was exactly as Lu Yin had described, a stack of neatly arranged boxes, from large to small, except for a plain, empty picture frame on top.

Lin Qianqian picked it up, glanced at it, and set it aside.

The boxes contained trophies and certificates, all clean and dust-free.

Nothing interesting.

Undeterred, she opened each box, finally finding something in a long, narrow box that she recognized, something even more familiar than Lu Yin’s achievements.

A wolf hair brush.

It was the birthday gift she had given Lu Yin for her eighteenth birthday.

Back then, as a middle school student, she had only known Lu Yin was an art student, her knowledge of art limited.

She had spent all her savings on the most expensive brush she could find, assuming price equated quality.

Lu Yin had said she loved the gift, but Lin Qianqian had never seen her use it, later learning it was meant for calligraphy, not painting.

Unwilling to accept her gift being ignored, she had unwrapped the brush and made Lu Yin set up a new easel, determined to prove she could paint with it too.

The result had been disastrous. She had ended up with a face full of paint, begging Lu Yin to clean it off.

Lu Yin had been gentle, but Lin Qianqian had cried anyway, the expensive brush unused, its purpose misunderstood.

She had forgotten about the brush, its fate unknown, never mentioned again.

Now, seeing it again, the memories resurfaced. She touched the brush tip, remembering the feel of it against her skin.

So, Lu Yin had kept it, treasured it, placing it alongside her awards and achievements.

Lin Qianqian carefully placed everything back in the cabinet, thinking about Lu Yin’s reaction last night.

Had Lu Yin been afraid of her seeing the brush?

But it was just a birthday gift, nothing special.

She checked the photo, making sure everything was in its original place, then went downstairs.

She put the key back in the book, but something still felt wrong.

She and Lu Yin had known each other for years, their connection deeper than most siblings. There had to be another secret.

But she had searched everywhere. There were no more hidden corners in this apartment.

The feeling was unsettling.

By the time Lu Yin came home, Lin Qianqian still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss.

She watched Lu Yin go to the loft, then nervously followed her.

“What’s wrong?” Lu Yin asked, retrieving a few boxes of paint and then coming back downstairs.

“Nothing,” Lin Qianqian said quickly, changing the subject. “I took my last dose of medicine today, and my temperature is normal.”

Lu Yin nodded.

“Are you working late tonight?” Lin Qianqian followed her into her bedroom, glancing at the books on the table. “I borrowed some pajamas from your closet.”

She looked down at her own clothes.

Oops.

She had forgotten to change.

“I was going to shower after my nap,” she said, offering a weak excuse.

“No overtime. I have an early class tomorrow. I’m going to bed early,” Lu Yin said, picking up the books, her gaze meeting Lin Qianqian’s.

She looked at Lin Qianqian, who was grinning at her.

“I’ll leave you to it then,” Lin Qianqian said, retreating to the living room, replaying her earlier behavior in her mind.

It had been too obvious, too clumsy.

She groaned, frustrated with herself.

She watched Lu Yin go back and forth to the bathroom, her guilt intensifying with every shared glance.

She slipped back into her room and stayed there, silent.

Lu Yin examined the books on her table, noticing the subtle signs that they had been moved.

She opened her laptop and watched the security camera footage.

Lin Qianqian’s movements were clearly visible, from her search of the bedroom to her cautious ascent to the loft.

She had snooped around the apartment like a thief.

Seeing the wolf hair brush, Lu Yin raised an eyebrow. She hadn’t looked at it in years.

She had wanted to discard everything that reminded her of Lin Qianqian, but she couldn’t bring herself to throw away the brush.

While packing her belongings, she had realized there wasn’t much to discard. Lin Qianqian had given her so few gifts.

But back then, her emotions had been too raw, too painful, and she had locked the brush away, deep inside the cabinet, avoiding it, letting it gather dust in a dark corner.

On the screen, Lin Qianqian knelt before the cabinet, the brush against her cheek.

And the secret Lu Yin had been so desperate to hide was right there, on the table, the face in the painting staring back at her, a face so different from Lin Qianqian’s, yet so similar.

Both faces, with a single glance, could drive her mad.

The room was dark, the light from the laptop screen illuminating the painting, casting long, distorted shadows.

Lu Yin’s gaze returned to the painting.

When would she reveal her true self?

She didn’t know the right time, afraid of scaring Lin Qianqian away.

She didn’t want to live with secrets, with masks, but she wasn’t ready to expose her vulnerabilities.

She wasn’t that brave.

The girl in the painting smiled, and Lu Yin frowned, closing her eyes, but the image lingered, a haunting presence in the darkness.

She replayed the footage, watching Lin Qianqian swap the pillows.

She remembered the sound she had heard at the door that night, Lin Qianqian’s soft whimpers.

It was infuriating.

Watching the footage in the dark, the painting a constant reminder of her desires, her past, she felt a surge of frustration, a desperate need to replace the mocking figure in her dreams with the real Lin Qianqian.

If Lin Qianqian knocked on her door now, she would let her in.

A few seconds later, she heard a knock, followed by a soft “Sister.” She froze, thinking she had imagined it.

Then another knock. She stood up, tossing the painting into her closet, and opened the door.

She pulled Lin Qianqian inside, closed the door, and kissed her.

If she wanted her, she would take her.

Chapter 34

Lin Qianqian realized she was doomed. She had just messaged Lu Yin saying she had woken up from her nap, and now here she was, caught red-handed.

If a fever could elicit sympathy from Lu Yin, she would will her temperature to spike to forty degrees.

Ming Yao was fine. Lin Qianqian was the one in trouble.

She tried to cover her face with her scarf, mimicking Ming Yao’s earlier tactic.

When that failed, she sat down, her gaze fixed on Lu Yin.

Zhong Shiwu broke the silence.

She smiled, reaching out to pat Ming Yao’s head. “My dear girl, did you miss me so much you had to come all the way here?”

Ming Yao removed the scarf from her face, glancing nervously at Zhong Shiwu. “Yes, I came to…pick you up from work.”

“Then you have the wrong time. It’s not closing time yet,” Zhong Shiwu said, her eyes filled with a knowing amusement.

Ming Yao hated that look, the unspoken implication that she was completely under Zhong Shiwu’s control.

This woman was ruthless, yet she maintained a facade of gentle kindness, a condescending pity that infuriated Ming Yao.

Zhong Shiwu tilted her head towards the exit. “Let’s go.”

Ming Yao hesitated, remaining seated.

“Aren’t you coming?” Zhong Shiwu asked, her smile unwavering, but Ming Yao knew it was an ultimatum.

Zhong Shiwu reserved her patience for her patients, even though their relationship was purely transactional, their connection forged by money, not affection.

“Yes…” Ming Yao stood up, but didn’t move.

“Who are you going with? Your friend?” Zhong Shiwu pressed, needing a clear answer.

“With you…with…Mom,” Ming Yao said, her voice barely a whisper.

Zhong Shiwu chuckled. “Good girl,” she said, taking Ming Yao’s hand.

Lin Qianqian watched them leave, her expression a mixture of shock and confusion. She glanced at Lu Yin, who stood beside her, her face impassive.

“She…she’s Ming Yao’s stepmother?” Lin Qianqian asked, still stunned.

Lu Yin nodded.

“Did you know?”

Lu Yin thought for a moment. “Not really. I’ve never met your friend before.”

As they left the clinic, Lin Qianqian was still in a daze.

“And you, what are you doing running around with a fever?” Lu Yin asked, fastening her seatbelt. “Haven’t you learned your lesson?”

Lin Qianqian was speechless. “…I just wanted some fresh air.”

Lu Yin, seeing her still unwell, didn’t press the issue.

Lin Qianqian noticed Lu Yin’s black bag, the one she usually carried to work, on the back seat.

“Why are you carrying that? It’s so gloomy. Not very cheerful,” she said, wrinkling her nose. “And what were you doing at the hospital?”

“Visiting a friend.”

“Visiting a friend at the hospital…?”

“Dr. Zhong is busy.”

“Oh…” Lin Qianqian said, now aware of Zhong Shiwu’s profession, and remembering Ming Yao’s description of her stepmother, she didn’t question Lu Yin further.

The atmosphere in Ming Yao’s car was less pleasant.

Ming Yao clutched her phone, hesitant to message Lin Qianqian.

She was terrified of the woman beside her, her constant smile masking a cold, calculating nature.

Zhong Shiwu lived in a large house near the clinic. To maintain the facade of a loving mother-daughter relationship, Ming Yao had moved in.

But now, Ming Yao suspected it was all a ploy, a way to control her, to manipulate her.

As they entered the house, Ming Yao’s carefully constructed composure crumbled.

“When is my sister coming back? Our contract is about to expire!” she demanded. “Haven’t you finalized the divorce yet? My father’s funeral was days ago!”

“I can’t exactly kidnap your sister, can I?” Zhong Shiwu said calmly, sipping her tea. “I don’t have that kind of power.”

“You think just because I call you ‘Mom’ you’re actually my mother?” Ming Yao snatched the teacup from her hand. “Auntie Zhong! I’m talking to you!”

Zhong Shiwu frowned. “That’s no way to talk to your elders. Girls much younger than you call me ‘Sister.’”

“I hired you. I’m your boss, your client! I’ll call you whatever I want!”

Ming Yao was furious. Zhong Shiwu’s condescending attitude, her constant attempts to treat her like a child, infuriated her.

“Zhong Shiwu!” she paced back and forth, then stopped in front of Zhong Shiwu, grabbing her collar. “Are you playing me?!”

Zhong Shiwu’s smile vanished. She looked down at Ming Yao’s hand. “I’m warning you. Don’t test my patience.”

She brushed Ming Yao’s hand away, smoothing her collar. “I can’t guarantee you’ll receive the full amount specified in the contract.”

“Idiot,” she muttered, annoyed, then unbuttoned her shirt and walked towards her bedroom.

Finally, some peace and quiet.

Zhong Shiwu leaned back in her massage chair, picking up a diagnostic report from the table.

She could refuse to treat difficult patients.

But difficult family members were a different matter. They had to be dealt with.

And instead of a quick resolution, she preferred a more…gradual approach.

Like treating a patient, breaking them down and rebuilding them.

One method aimed for healing, the other for control, molding them into her desired image.

And Ming Yao, a spoiled, naive little rich girl, needed to be taught a lesson.

On the way home, Lin Qianqian’s phone buzzed. It was a message from Ming Yao.

But before she could read it, it was retracted.

She sent a question mark, but Ming Yao didn’t reply.

Ming Yao had been acting strangely lately, disappearing and reappearing online without explanation. Lin Qianqian didn’t dwell on it, her mind already planning their dinner.

“Can we have barbecue tonight?” she asked Lu Yin.

She had been craving barbecue since returning, but they hadn’t had it yet.

“You’re still sick. You should eat something bland,” Lu Yin said, quickly rejecting the suggestion, then, sensing Lin Qianqian’s potential displeasure, added, “We can have it when you’re better.”

“I have a fever, not a sore throat. I can eat whatever I want.”

“Fine, I’ll drop you off at a barbecue stall.”

Lin Qianqian, seeing Lu Yin’s expression, dropped the subject. “We’ll have it when I’m better.”

She calculated the time. Her birthday was this weekend. She would make Lu Yin her personal servant for the day, fulfilling her every whim.

She had already received her birthday gift and her wish had been granted.

But she wasn’t satisfied.

There was no such thing as too much attention from Lu Yin.

Lu Yin answered a call from Yu Miao, who had sent her dozens of student portfolios and asked her to select a few promising candidates for a new class. Yu Miao was busy with a business trip and trusted Lu Yin’s judgment.

Lu Yin agreed, but the deadline was tight. She would have to work late tonight.

They parked in the underground garage and had noodles at a nearby restaurant.

Back at the apartment, Lu Yin was about to go to the loft when Lin Qianqian stopped her.

“Sister, can I ask you something?”

Lu Yin turned around, seeing Lin Qianqian’s secretive expression, knowing it would be a long conversation. “Come upstairs.”

She started up the stairs. “Don’t forget to take your medicine.”

“I’ll take it before bed. Then I’ll sweat it out and be fine tomorrow,” Lin Qianqian said, pouring herself a glass of hot water and following Lu Yin to the loft.

Lu Yin handed her a thermometer and opened the student portfolios on her computer.

Lin Qianqian leaned closer, pretending to understand.

“Go to bed early. I only called in sick for you for one day.”

“No, I don’t want to sleep yet. You’re still working,” Lin Qianqian said.

Lu Yin frowned. “Will I disturb you?”

She thought about it. She often worked late in the loft, but she always tried to be quiet, mindful of Lin Qianqian sleeping downstairs, not even moving her easel.

“No, I want to keep you company.”

Lu Yin dropped the subject. “What did you want to ask me?”

“What day is Sunday again?” Lin Qianqian hinted. “I can’t remember.”

“I have classes,” Lu Yin said bluntly.

Lin Qianqian deflated.

“I told you already,” Lu Yin said. “That’s why I let you choose your birthday gift early.”

“I said I wanted to change my gift, but you didn’t let me finish!” Lin Qianqian protested. “It’s your fault!”

“I want a fruit cake with little deer-shaped chocolates!”

Lu Yin remained silent, her patience wearing thin.

“You’re not talking again!” Lin Qianqian said, her voice rising slightly, then she coughed. “I’m sick! What if my fever spikes to forty degrees tomorrow because you’re making me angry?”

“Fine, whatever you want,” Lu Yin said, giving in. “Buy it yourself, and I’ll reimburse you.”

Lin Qianqian, seeing that tactic wasn’t working, looked around the loft.

She had explored every inch of the downstairs area, but she had rarely been up here.

She had examined the easels, the art supplies in the boxes, even lain on the rug by the small window, and looked at the charcoal sketches.

Except…

She had never seen the contents of the locked cabinet.

She wanted to know everything about Lu Yin, every hidden corner of her life.

“Sister,” she said after a few minutes of silence.

“Mm?” Lu Yin had finished the initial screening of the portfolios and messaged Yu Miao, asking about the class size.

While waiting for a reply, she finally turned her attention to Lin Qianqian.

“What’s in that cabinet?” Lin Qianqian asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

“Just some old things,” Lu Yin said, even though Lin Qianqian had asked this before. “Trophies, certificates, that sort of thing.”

Lin Qianqian kept asking the same questions, either because she genuinely forgot or because she enjoyed annoying Lu Yin.

So, the cabinet contained Lu Yin’s past achievements, probably locked away when she gave up painting.

But now that she was back in the art world, there was no need to hide them.

These symbols of Lu Yin’s talent should be displayed proudly.

“Can I see?” Lin Qianqian walked over to the cabinet, touching the lock.

It was clean, free of dust. If it contained forgotten relics of the past, it wouldn’t be so well-maintained.

This time, Lu Yin’s refusal was firm.

“No.”

“I want to see. If it’s just trophies and certificates, I’ve seen them before. Why can’t I see them now?” Lin Qianqian complained. “You’re so stingy.”

“Go to bed,” Lu Yin said, receiving a reply from Yu Miao and resuming her work.

She couldn’t let Lin Qianqian see what was inside.

The painting was right there, in the center of the cabinet, a constant reminder of her past.

Lin Qianqian rattled the lock. “Did you forget to give me a key? I can’t open it.”

“I said,” Lu Yin said coldly, “you can’t see it.”

Chapter 33

After leaving the hospital, Lu Yin made Lin Qianqian take her medication, and she promptly fell asleep.

She woke up covered in sweat, the cold air hitting her skin as she pushed the duvet aside.

Lu Yin handed her a thermometer, and Lin Qianqian, glancing at the time, tucked it under her arm.

“Didn’t you go to work?” she asked, her voice hoarse, her throat sore.

“I called in sick for you.”

“I mean, you…” Lin Qianqian’s mind was still foggy, her head throbbing from the hangover.

“No classes,” Lu Yin said.

Lin Qianqian checked her messages with HR「Human Resources」. Nothing.

“How did you call in sick for me?”

“I contacted your boss.”

“Xu Sui?” Lin Qianqian paused. “Then she knows about us…”

“She already knew,” Lu Yin said, looking directly at her. “Is our relationship something to be ashamed of?”

“Depends on what kind of relationship. If it’s just sisters, then no. But anything else…” Lin Qianqian coughed, glancing at Lu Yin, then stopping herself.

“Seems like you’ve recovered.”

“No, I still hurt all over,” Lin Qianqian said, which was true.

After a few minutes, Lu Yin checked her temperature. 37.8 degrees Celsius. Still a fever.

“Why are you recovering so slowly?”

“A shot would have been faster,” Lu Yin said, remembering Lin Qianqian’s refusal of an injection at the hospital, despite her feverish state.

“Who wants a shot in the butt?” Lin Qianqian said, tugging at the duvet, uncomfortable with the sticky feeling of her sweat-soaked clothes.

Lu Yin retrieved a clean duvet from the closet. “Get up and eat when you wake up. I have some things to do this afternoon.”

“Classes?” Lin Qianqian asked, getting dressed.

“No classes,” Lu Yin repeated after a moment.

The food on the table was still warm. Lin Qianqian watched Lu Yin take the duvet to the balcony to dry.

It was a rare sunny day in late autumn. The warmth of the sun streaming through the window soothed her aching body.

Ming Yao, after a long silence, finally contacted her.

[Ming Yao: Are you free tonight? I need your help with something.]

[Lin Qianqian: I’m not doing anything illegal.]

[Ming Yao: Of course not. I’ll pick you up from work.]

Lin Qianqian briefly explained what had happened the previous night, hoping Ming Yao would tell her to rest and drink plenty of fluids. But Ming Yao insisted on picking her up that afternoon.

A true friend, always ready to drag you into trouble.

Lu Yin sat opposite Zhong Shiwu in her private clinic.

The consultation room, decorated in warm, inviting colors, was unlike a typical hospital room.

A cute pen holder filled with colorful pens sat on the desk, the kind children would love.

Zhong Shiwu enjoyed talking to young women, their youthful energy a welcome contrast to her own advancing age. It made her feel less…old.

She would be forty next year.

And the new year was only a month away.

“Teacher Lu, your resilience is impressive,” Zhong Shiwu said, her voice laced with surprise.

During their last conversation, she hadn’t been optimistic about Lu Yin’s condition, believing that forced interactions, especially when resisted, would exacerbate her symptoms, potentially triggering a relapse.

She didn’t want Lu Yin to revert to her previous state. It would be difficult for both of them.

But Lu Yin seemed to be coping much better than expected.

“It seems recovery is possible even without medication,” Zhong Shiwu said thoughtfully. “But patients like you are rare.”

She frowned, her concern still evident.

Lu Yin was good at hiding her emotions. If she wanted to conceal something, Zhong Shiwu couldn’t guarantee she would always be able to see through her facade.

“I didn’t come here for help. I just haven’t seen you in a while,” Lu Yin said, looking around the room. She hadn’t been here in years.

Although Zhong Shiwu owned the clinic, she, like Lu Yin, preferred to delegate responsibilities.

Zhong Shiwu didn’t have many patients, her time mostly spent traveling, her work shrouded in mystery. Lu Yin didn’t know the details, nor did she care to know.

She preferred solitude.

Yu Miao and Zhong Shiwu were close, their friendship a legacy of their shared connection to Lu Sui.

Lu Yin was a generation younger, their relationship complicated by the past, the unspoken grief and guilt that lingered between them.

“Of all places, why meet at the hospital?” Zhong Shiwu sighed. “I hate hospitals more than anyone.”

“We could have met at a cafe, or gone to the movies, or…has it been a while since we went sketching together?”

“I’m not in the right frame of mind for sketching,” Lu Yin said, declining the offer. “And the other options aren’t suitable either.”

Zhong Shiwu rarely met with patients in her clinic, preferring public places, the casual setting conducive to open communication.

Lu Yin, however, saw these outings as a form of therapy, a disguised attempt to analyze her.

“How is your sister?” Zhong Shiwu asked, changing the subject, trying to find a way past Lu Yin’s defenses.

“She’s fine,” Lu Yin said, offering no further details.

“Then I’ll visit her sometime,” Zhong Shiwu said, raising an eyebrow, expecting a refusal.

“She has a fever. She won’t be well for a while.”

As expected.

Zhong Shiwu smiled, knowing Lu Yin was meticulous about concealing her own vulnerabilities, except when it came to her sister.

Lin Qianqian was her weakness, a vulnerability she couldn’t hide, and Zhong Shiwu wasn’t above exploiting it.

“It’s just a visit. Did she misunderstand something when I was at your apartment?”

“No,” Lu Yin said, then added, “I won’t allow any misunderstandings.”

“Someone recommended a private art consultant recently. She specializes in exhibition design. I’ll send you a custom frame for your paintings,” Zhong Shiwu offered, remembering the painting she had taken from Lu Yin and then returned. “A unique piece, not available for sale.”

“Sure,” Lu Yin said, accepting the offer without mentioning the painting.

It wasn’t the same painting anymore.

Zhong Shiwu stood up, leaning against the desk, closer to Lu Yin, studying her.

Lu Yin met her gaze, their height difference not diminishing the intensity of their silent exchange.

Zhong Shiwu, recognizing Lu Yin’s stubbornness, didn’t want to waste her time.

“If only you were as gentle as Lu Sui, my life would be so much easier,” she said, sitting back down, her gaze softening with concern.

Lu Sui had been a constant presence in Lu Yin’s childhood, their personalities remarkably similar.

But people changed. Environments changed people.

Their session ended. Zhong Shiwu gave Lu Yin a new prescription.

Holding the medication, Lu Yin felt no comfort, no relief. She had become indifferent to its effects.

The few times she had been triggered recently, she had endured the emotional turmoil, the aftermath a strange, almost perverse sense of satisfaction.

She couldn’t explain it. It was too disturbing, too twisted.

Only through that excruciating pain could she feel Lin Qianqian’s presence, her vitality, not as a lifeless image on a canvas, but as a living, breathing person.

Her phone buzzed. She checked the message and replied to Lin Qianqian.

The red dot on the map app started moving erratically.

Sneaking out again.

“How does it feel to have her back?” Zhong Shiwu asked, never missing an opportunity to observe her patients.

“Desensitization…perhaps it’s worth a try,” Lu Yin said, a faint smile playing on her lips, her attention shifting from her phone.

“It seems to be working,” Zhong Shiwu said, her own smile genuine now. She knew Lu Yin was trying.

She felt a surge of relief, then a pang of sadness for Lu Sui.

She had always believed friendship was more important than love, but when it came to Lu Sui, she had always been a step too late.

Perhaps it was fate.

She remembered Lu Yin’s reaction years ago, upon learning the truth, her face devoid of emotion, a terrifying calmness that had sent chills down Zhong Shiwu’s spine.

As a doctor, she dreaded that look, the sudden acceptance of a previously unbearable burden.

She had saved Lu Yin that night, by the ocean, Lu Yin’s words echoing in her ears: “I’ve lost everything I ever wanted.”

Lu Yin mourned her mother, spending her life savings to imprison her father, yet she had fallen in love with the daughter of the woman who had destroyed her family.

Her reputation was tarnished, the daughter of a murderer, a perpetrator of incest.

Zhong Shiwu realized her presence might be triggering for Lu Yin, a constant reminder of her past, her guilt.

By returning, by being there for Lu Yin, she was saying, I know you’re a good person, not the monster they say you are.

And Lu Yin had found solace in that belief, a release from the burden of guilt she carried.

Lu Sui, the only daughter of a prominent artistic family, had been showered with love and affection. Lu Yin, her daughter, had inherited that privilege.

And with it, an immense pride, a fragile ego easily shattered.

Lu Yin’s pride had been broken. She didn’t want to face the consequences, the shame.

And she had nothing left to lose.

Her mother was gone, and her sister, Lin Qianqian, would be fine without her.

“I’ll send you the design for the frame when it’s ready,” Zhong Shiwu said, checking her messages. “I wonder if she’s free these days.”

“Thanks,” Lu Yin said, her tone indifferent. She wasn’t interested in the frame.

Zhong Shiwu had given her many gifts, all ending up in boxes, gathering dust. Only practical art supplies were deemed worthy of use.

But those were no different from the ones she bought herself. She didn’t see the point of cherishing gifts, of treating them as precious objects. It was a waste.

“I’ll walk you out,” Zhong Shiwu said, following her out of the room.

After lunch, Lin Qianqian took another nap.

Ming Yao had given her some time to rest, not dragging her out of bed immediately.

They met at the entrance of the apartment complex, Lin Qianqian bundled up in layers of clothing.

If Lu Yin were home, she wouldn’t have let her leave, not with a fever and a hangover.

She didn’t know why she had angered Lu Yin, despite having informed her of her plans, but she didn’t want a repeat of last night.

“You still have a fever?” Ming Yao asked, adjusting Lin Qianqian’s scarf as the driver started the car.

“Just a little over thirty-seven,” Lin Qianqian coughed, wishing she had brought a thermos of hot water.

A message from Lu Yin arrived.

[Lu Yin: Did you take your medicine and go to bed after lunch?]

Lin Qianqian didn’t reply, pretending to be asleep.

Suddenly, she felt uneasy. “Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the hospital,” Ming Yao said.

“The hospital?” Lin Qianqian touched Ming Yao’s forehead. “Are you sick?”

“To my stepmother’s clinic. It’s a private hospital,” Ming Yao explained. “Do you know how long I had to be on my best behavior to earn a day off? I can’t even remember the last time I slept in.”

“Then why are you going there?” Lin Qianqian chuckled. “To offer yourself as a sacrifice?”

“Absolutely not. This time, she’s going down,” Ming Yao said, showing her a small box. “I got this listening device from a private investigator. I’m going to plant it in her private lounge at the clinic.”

“Is that legal?” Lin Qianqian asked.

“It’s just a little game between me and my dear mommy. Perfectly legal,” Ming Yao said, grinning.

Lin Qianqian checked her phone. No new messages from Lu Yin. She replied.

[Lin Qianqian: I just woke up. Where are you?]

The drive took almost an hour. The driver stopped a few blocks from the hospital.

Ming Yao warned the driver not to reveal their destination, then she and Lin Qianqian walked towards the clinic, their movements furtive.

“If anything happens, you’re my shield!” Ming Yao said, hiding behind Lin Qianqian.

The clinic was quiet, the hallways empty.

“You haven’t met my stepmother before, so this will definitely work!” Ming Yao whispered.

“Definitely work?” Lin Qianqian looked at the nameplates on the doors, searching for the room Ming Yao had mentioned. “You’ve tried this before?”

“Don’t remind me,” Ming Yao pushed her forward. “Turn right at the end of the hallway! Keep an eye out for anyone coming!”

“I know, I know! Stop being so dramatic. I’m the one who’s going to look suspicious,” Lin Qianqian said, eyeing the security cameras.

They reached the end of the hallway, and Lin Qianqian cautiously peeked around the corner.

“Anyone there? I don’t know if she’s even here. She’s always so secretive,” Ming Yao whispered, her heart pounding. “She always appears when I least expect it…”

And then proceeds to catch her red-handed.

“No one,” Lin Qianqian said, tiptoeing forward. “Which room is it?”

“Look for the consultation room, not the lounge. They’re connected,” Ming Yao said, her body hunched over, her head down.

“Consultation room…” Lin Qianqian muttered, scanning the doors.

Suddenly, the doorknob of a nearby room turned.

They froze.

“Little Grass! Cover me!” Ming Yao quickly pulled a corner of Lin Qianqian’s scarf over her face, sat down on a nearby bench, and hid behind Lin Qianqian.

Lin Qianqian’s heart sank as she saw the person emerge from the consultation room.

“Sister…?”

Lu Yin…

What was she doing here?

Chapter 32

The car was stuffy, and the baijiu was making Lin Qianqian dizzy. She was starting to lose consciousness.

Fighting back nausea, she banged on the window, trying to get Lu Yin’s attention.

Seeing her distress, Lu Yin pulled her out of the car and took her to a nearby hotel, getting them a room.

Lin Qianqian threw up in the bathroom, her head spinning. Room service delivered a sobering soup, and Lu Yin helped her rinse her mouth and then fed it to her.

The strong ginger flavor made Lin Qianqian gag.

She sat on the floor, shaking her head, refusing to drink.

Lu Yin held her face and forced the soup down her throat.

Lin Qianqian choked, the brownish liquid spilling down her chin, her appearance pathetic.

Lu Yin didn’t relent until the bowl was empty.

“I’m sticky…” Lin Qianqian tugged at her clothes, wanting to escape the unpleasant sensation. “I want to wash…Sister…”

Receiving no response, she slumped against the floor, sobbing quietly.

She felt truly miserable, but couldn’t bring herself to tell Lu Yin.

She struggled to stand, reaching for Lu Yin, her hand finding Lu Yin’s arm, a small comfort.

She leaned against Lu Yin, needing a word, a single word of acknowledgement.

“I didn’t want to drink…I can take care of myself…” she mumbled, her head against Lu Yin’s arm, seeking warmth. “I sent you my location…I tried to bring you dinner, but you didn’t want it…”

“I didn’t date anyone while I was abroad. I didn’t like anyone. I just wanted to graduate and come back to you…”

She rambled on, about her life abroad, about her fear of losing Lu Yin.

Lu Yin, seeing her still clutching her wine-stained top, helped her stand and led her to the bathroom.

“I don’t want to go…don’t make me go…” Lin Qianqian mumbled, her mind still hazy. “Don’t send me away again…”

She was terrified of being abandoned by Lu Yin.

The unknown was always frightening.

But Lu Yin had already done it once. Lin Qianqian couldn’t rule out the possibility of it happening again.

If she displeased Lu Yin, even slightly, she would be discarded like trash.

“I don’t want to go!” Lin Qianqian pulled away from Lu Yin, shouting. “I don’t want to go!”

Lu Yin’s lips moved, but no words came out. She turned on the shower full blast, the cold water drenching Lin Qianqian.

She pulled Lin Qianqian’s top over her head.

Lin Qianqian’s hair was plastered to her face, dripping water.

“It’s cold…” she shivered, hugging herself, her eyes stinging, blindly reaching for the faucet to adjust the temperature.

Lu Yin swatted her hand away. A bucket of water sat nearby, almost full.

“Ah—” Lin Qianqian screamed as Lu Yin dumped the entire bucket of water over her head, the sound of her scream swallowed by the thud of the bucket hitting the floor.

She stumbled, her feet slipping on the wet floor, and landed on the ground.

Lu Yin didn’t help her, her gaze cold and distant. “Sober now?”

Lin Qianqian ignored the pain in her knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

“What did I do wrong…?”

She didn’t understand Lu Yin’s unpredictable moods, her sudden shifts from affection to coldness.

Why didn’t her usual tactics work anymore?

She didn’t know what to do.

She couldn’t get closer, but she was terrified of being pushed away.

“Why can’t we be like we were before…?”

She didn’t want to grow up.

As a child, Lu Yin had always indulged her. Now, her only sister was distant and unreadable.

Despite the material comforts, she felt further away from Lu Yin than ever.

“I’m hurt…” Lin Qianqian finally acknowledged the pain, her bare arms and legs covered in goosebumps, her body curled up in a protective ball. “Everything hurts…my arms, my legs, my head…”

She lay on the floor, her tears mixing with the water.

Lu Yin didn’t want to argue with a drunk person. She had never seen Lin Qianqian like this before.

The thought of Lin Qianqian in this state, alone and vulnerable, filled her with anger.

“It really hurts…” Lin Qianqian whimpered, her body suddenly feeling hot.

Lu Yin finally relented, kneeling beside her. “Where does it hurt?”

She gently massaged Lin Qianqian’s bruised knees and lifted her from the floor.

Lin Qianqian sobbed, grabbing Lu Yin’s hand and placing it on her chest. “Here…it hurts the most…”

Lu Yin carried her to the bed, dried her with a towel, and tucked her in.

Lin Qianqian lay there, motionless, for ten minutes, her breathing gradually returning to normal.

“I feel awful…” she coughed, trying to pull the duvet tighter, but her arms were weak. Lu Yin adjusted the blanket.

“I feel awful…” Lin Qianqian repeated, looking up at Lu Yin, seeking her gaze.

“You deserve to feel awful,” Lu Yin said coldly. “You reek of alcohol.”

Lin Qianqian’s mind was still clouded, her ears filtering out Lu Yin’s words, only registering the disapproval in her tone.

“I didn’t mean to…” she mumbled, her voice weak and slurred.

Lu Yin brushed the hair from her face, and as she pulled her hand away, Lin Qianqian grabbed it.

She held Lu Yin’s hand tightly, pressing her cheek against it.

“Sister, don’t ignore me…”

“I’m not ignoring you,” Lu Yin said, her voice softening slightly. “You need to learn your lesson.”

“Can I go home and sleep?” Lin Qianqian asked, looking around the unfamiliar room. “I don’t want to sleep here.”

She felt unsafe, wanting to be home, in Lu Yin’s arms.

“Just sleep here. It’s a half-hour drive home. You’ll only feel worse,” Lu Yin said, placing a pillow under her head.

Lin Qianqian moved to the edge of the bed. Lu Yin, thinking she was about to throw up again, reached for something to help her, but Lin Qianqian rested her head on Lu Yin’s arm instead.

Her eyes were still red and puffy from crying.

Seeing Lu Yin didn’t stop her, she pushed her luck, wrapping her arms around Lu Yin’s waist, her weight pressing against Lu Yin’s body. “Sister, stay with me.”

Lu Yin tried to pull away, but Lin Qianqian’s grip was tight.

She sighed and lay down beside her.

Lin Qianqian tugged at Lu Yin’s clothes. “Take these off.”

Lu Yin knew she was still drunk, but she was too tired to argue.

Their “fights” always ended one of two ways: either Lin Qianqian submitted, or Lu Yin gave up, exhausted.

Lu Yin removed her clothes. Lin Qianqian, finally satisfied, snuggled closer, her body molding against Lu Yin’s.

Their skin warmed against each other, Lin Qianqian’s breathing evening out.

“Sister, do you still like me…?” she asked, then corrected herself. “Have you ever liked me…?”

She didn’t just want to know how Lu Yin felt now, but how she had felt in the past.

“I don’t want to talk about this now,” Lu Yin said.

Drunk words were never true.

And even if they were, she wouldn’t believe them. She was afraid Lin Qianqian would change her mind, retract her confession.

She couldn’t decide which of them was more foolish.

“What do you mean ‘now’?” Lin Qianqian asked stubbornly. “And what is it you don’t want to talk about?”

For a moment, Lu Yin almost laughed.

Perhaps Lin Qianqian was the cause of her insomnia, not just her own demons.

“People change,” Lu Yin said softly, more to herself than to Lin Qianqian.

“I haven’t changed. I still love you,” Lin Qianqian mumbled, her face buried in Lu Yin’s chest. “I wish you felt the same way.”

Lu Yin’s warmth lulled her to sleep. Her question had been more of a reflex than a genuine inquiry.

The next morning, Lu Yin woke up to a burning sensation against her chest. Lin Qianqian’s forehead was hot.

She took Lin Qianqian’s temperature. 38.9 degrees Celsius. Almost 102 Fahrenheit.

“Sister…” Lin Qianqian mumbled, her voice hoarse.

“Wake up. We’re going to the hospital.”

“Okay…”

Lu Yin retrieved Lin Qianqian’s clothes from the dryer, but Lin Qianqian didn’t move.

She pulled her out of bed, helped her dress, gently coaxing her to raise her arms, her legs.

Then she knelt down and put on her socks and shoes.

She carried Lin Qianqian on her back, her steps slow and steady.

“Sister…” Lin Qianqian mumbled, her arms around Lu Yin’s neck, her head heavy against Lu Yin’s back.

“You have a fever. Stay awake,” Lu Yin said, feeling the heat radiating from Lin Qianqian’s body.

“I want to go home…” Lin Qianqian whimpered. “I want to go home…”

“We’re going home,” Lu Yin said. “We’re almost there.”

“But this isn’t the way home,” Lin Qianqian said weakly, her voice filled with childish petulance.

She didn’t open her eyes, her face buried in Lu Yin’s neck.

“I told you, you’re sick. We’ll go to the hospital, and then we’ll go home.”

“No…” Lin Qianqian coughed. “You’re the one who’s sick.”

Lu Yin, used to indulging her, finally gave in.

“Okay, I’m sick.”

Lin Qianqian giggled, then coughed again, a harsh, hacking sound.

“I wish you could carry me like this forever,” she murmured.

“In your dreams.”

“I can dream, can’t I?” Lin Qianqian said, her fever not dampening her playful spirit. “I’m not just going to dream it. I’m going to make it happen. I’ll cling to you forever, even in the afterlife.”

Lu Yin chuckled. “Don’t disappoint me then.”

Chapter 31

Lin Qianqian stood up, grabbed the open bottle of red wine, and drank straight from it.

She tilted her head back, the red wine staining her white cotton top, her slender frame trembling slightly.

She couldn’t swallow much, the wine spilling down her chin. She coughed, the alcohol burning her throat and stinging her nose, making her gasp for air.

Lu Yin tried to stop her, but Lin Qianqian, her mind clouded by alcohol and emotion, clung to the bottle, refusing to let go.

Lu Yin grabbed her wrist, her other hand snatching the bottle and throwing it on the floor.

The shattering glass startled Lin Qianqian. She looked at Lu Yin, her voice trembling. “Just…pity me, just this once…”

Lu Yin pulled her away from the broken glass.

The coffee table and the floor were covered in shards.

“Can’t you even pity me…?” Lin Qianqian’s lower lip trembled.

“Don’t talk,” Lu Yin said, avoiding her gaze.

One of them had to stay sober. And that was Lu Yin.

She sat Lin Qianqian down on the sofa, picked up the larger pieces of glass, and threw them in the trash. Then, she swept and mopped the floor, cleaning up the mess.

Lin Qianqian’s emotions subsided as she was ignored.

The alcohol clouded her mind, and she remembered a time when, as a child, she would act out, and Lu Yin would patiently clean up after her.

When Lu Yin was angry, she would give Lin Qianqian the silent treatment.

Lin Qianqian, afraid of being ignored, would always apologize, begging for a smile, a sign of forgiveness.

But now, she didn’t dare approach Lu Yin, didn’t dare test her patience.

She took deep breaths, as if trying to absorb all the oxygen in the room, but the lingering scent of red wine only intensified the memory of her outburst.

She hated to admit it, but being ignored was the most effective way to calm her down.

A kind word from Lu Yin would have been more comforting, but Lu Yin wasn’t offering any comfort.

A glass of warm water was placed in front of her.

“Calmed down?” Lu Yin asked.

Lin Qianqian didn’t take the glass, drinking from the rim instead.

Lu Yin tilted the glass, making it easier for her to drink.

She examined Lin Qianqian’s wine-stained top, her brow furrowing. “You should wash this.”

Lin Qianqian leaned back against the sofa. “Later,” she said.

She didn’t want to move, wanting to prolong this moment of quiet.

Lu Yin picked her up and carried her to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you a bath,” Lu Yin said, setting her down on the bathroom floor. “Be careful. It’s slippery.”

Lin Qianqian watched her retrieve a large bath towel, then realized she wasn’t leaving.

“Why aren’t you leaving?” she asked, her earlier defiance gone, replaced by exhaustion. She just wanted to shower and go to bed.

“I’m helping you. You’re drunk. It’s not safe for you to shower alone,” Lu Yin said, turning on the shower and adjusting the water temperature. “Why aren’t you taking your clothes off?”

Her tone was flat, and Lin Qianqian felt a surge of annoyance.

The classic carrot-and-stick routine. She was tired of it.

But she obediently undressed, then realized she hadn’t brought the laundry basket.

“Just leave it there,” Lu Yin said, taking the clothes and placing them in the sink.

Lin Qianqian, now only in her underwear, turned her back to Lu Yin, hesitant to remove them.

“You can wash yourself. I’ll just watch,” Lu Yin said.

What’s the difference?! Lin Qianqian wanted to ask.

“I want to use the bathtub.”

She couldn’t face Lu Yin naked. She wasn’t a child anymore. She couldn’t just casually undress in front of Lu Yin.

Lu Yin filled the tub and turned off the shower.

While Lu Yin wasn’t looking, Lin Qianqian grabbed the showerhead and sprayed her.

Lu Yin’s white shirt was instantly soaked.

“Behave,” Lu Yin said, without turning around, her voice a warning that made Lin Qianqian put the showerhead back.

“I’m drunk. I can’t control myself,” Lin Qianqian said, offering a pathetic excuse.

She had heard this warning countless times, but she never learned.

Teasing Lu Yin was a lifelong habit.

“Can’t we just shower together?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“Come here,” Lu Yin said, turning around after filling the tub.

Lin Qianqian quickly removed her underwear and stepped into the bathtub.

Despite the warm water, goosebumps rose on her skin.

She splashed water on herself and looked at Lu Yin.

Lu Yin picked up her wine-stained clothes, examined them, and left the bathroom.

Lin Qianqian hugged herself, wondering if Lu Yin was angry.

This woman was so frustrating. Why couldn’t she just express her emotions?

Suppressing anger was unhealthy. Lin Qianqian firmly believed that.

Silence was useless. No one cared.

Well…

Lu Yin cared when she was silent.

She had tried to figure out how Lu Yin dealt with her anger, but she hadn’t found any evidence of emotional outbursts.

Lu Yin would always be calm and composed the next day, as if nothing had happened.

Her anger was usually directed at Lin Qianqian’s childish antics, but otherwise, she seemed unflappable.

Or perhaps she was simply good at hiding it.

Lin Qianqian should be used to Lu Yin’s silent treatment, but she never would be.

She emerged from the bathroom, wrapped in a towel, and saw Lu Yin hanging her clothes on the balcony.

Lu Yin, noticing her, frowned and waved her away.

Lin Qianqian obediently stood there, waiting for Lu Yin to bring her clean pajamas.

She was going to make Lu Yin wait on her.

Lu Yin, as always, understood, retrieving her pajamas and handing them to her before retreating to her own room.

Lin Qianqian stood outside Lu Yin’s door, pajamas in hand, waiting, but Lu Yin didn’t reappear.

Lin Qianqian hadn’t forgotten Lu Yin’s offer to drive her to work.

She woke up early, sat at the breakfast table, and noticed a money transfer notification from Ming Yao, sent at six o’clock in the morning.

It was for the restaurant bill, rounded up.

[Lin Qianqian: You’re up this early?]

[Ming Yao: Morning jog.]

[Ming Yao: If I go missing, call the police! My stepmother is the prime suspect!]

Lin Qianqian suddenly remembered something. “Sister, that partner at your institution, the one who doesn’t come often, her name is Zhong…Zhong what?”

“Zhong Shiwu.”

“Right!” Lin Qianqian said. “My friend’s stepmother’s last name is Zhong too. What was her full name again?”

She messaged Ming Yao, but didn’t receive an immediate reply.

Lu Yin paused, her chopsticks hovering over her food, glancing at Lin Qianqian, then resuming her meal in silence.

Lin Qianqian muttered about Ming Yao’s recent disappearances, online one minute, gone the next.

December was approaching, and the company had taken on several New Year’s promotional video projects. Lin Qianqian had been busy.

Her colleagues were discussing a company team-building event. Lin Qianqian focused on her work, trying to be invisible.

If she could refuse, she would.

Wasting time on team building was ridiculous.

If she had a fortune, she would quit her job, and she wouldn’t let Lu Yin work either. She would spoil Lu Yin, showering her with gifts and taking her on extravagant vacations.

The company’s team-building events were optional.

Lin Qianqian wasn’t one to take the lead, but she was happy to follow if someone else refused.

But before she could say anything, her colleague added her name to the list.

She couldn’t very well refuse, especially when her colleague was so enthusiastic.

Lin Qianqian was always cautious about drinking with colleagues.

With Ming Yao, she could get tipsy.

With Lu Yin, she could get blackout drunk.

But with colleagues, she preferred to stay sober.

If her colleague hadn’t insisted on accompanying her from the office to the restaurant, she would have taken an anti-alcohol pill.

She tended to say embarrassing things when drunk, and she didn’t want to repeat her drunken recitation of her third-grade essay from her time abroad.

The gaudy, gold-colored private dining room was exactly as she had imagined.

She ate quietly, messaging Lu Yin that she was at a company dinner and wouldn’t be needing dinner.

Then, feeling guilty, she asked if she should bring Lu Yin something back.

Lu Yin declined, and Lin Qianqian’s appetite vanished.

The table was filled with women. Lin Qianqian, not one for socializing, sat beside her colleague, who was chatting animatedly with everyone. Lin Qianqian barely managed to get a word in.

She hoped the dinner would end quickly.

She was being extra cautious now, avoiding any unnecessary interactions with her female colleagues. She had to stay faithful to Lu Yin!

But her colleague, after making the rounds with her wine glass, returned and subjected Lin Qianqian to an hour-long lecture about her latest romantic woes. Her ex-boyfriend had apparently become a scammer, and she warned Lin Qianqian to be wary of beautiful women asking for money.

Then, she burst into tears, scrolling through her contacts, asking Lin Qianqian which ex-boyfriend she should call.

“I’m so miserable! Can’t you even have one drink with me?”

Lin Qianqian suddenly remembered saying almost the exact same words countless times.

Lu Yin must have been exasperated.

Lu Yin would simply force her to go to bed, while now, she was being forced to drink, glass after glass of baijiu, a strong liquor she had never tried before.

The burning sensation made her want to throw up.

“Cheers! To my ex-boyfriends!”

Lin Qianqian forced down another glass, then rushed to the bathroom to throw up.

Returning to the table, she saw her colleague had found a new target and sat down, eating some food to settle her stomach.

But the baijiu was stronger than red wine, and she felt dizzy.

She leaned back in her chair, suddenly wanting to share her own relationship drama with her colleague.

Damn Lu Yin. She didn’t want to rehash her embarrassing third-grade essay again.

Company dinners usually ended with karaoke, and Lin Qianqian planned to make an excuse and leave during the transition. But the women continued chatting, their conversation seemingly endless.

They moved to a different private room, but still no one left.

She couldn’t be the first to leave.

She had only been working here for a short time and loved her job. She couldn’t risk making a bad impression.

Absentmindedly, she tapped on Lu Yin’s profile picture in the work chat group.

You poked Lu Yin.

Lu Yin immediately called her.

Lin Qianqian jumped up and ran to the bathroom, stumbling slightly and grabbing a chair for support.

“Sister…” she said breathlessly, coughing.

“How much have you had to drink?” Lu Yin asked, her tone sharp, recognizing the slur in her voice. “Didn’t I tell you not to drink outside, especially not to get drunk?”

“I didn’t drink!” Lin Qianqian protested, stalling for time. “How do you know I drank?”

The line went dead. Lin Qianqian stared at the call history, cursing Lu Yin.

Then, a message arrived.

[Lu Yin: Send me your location.]

She rushed out of the bathroom, gulping down juice, trying to mask the smell of alcohol.

When offered another drink, she finally refused, ignoring the risk of offending her colleagues.

Lu Yin’s opinion mattered more than theirs. Lu Yin’s anger was the most terrifying.

She sent Lu Yin her location and was about to make an excuse and leave when the door opened.

Xu Sui entered, followed by Lu Yin.

Weren’t bosses supposed to skip these events?

And how had Lu Yin gotten here so quickly?

It hadn’t even been five minutes since she sent her location!

“I heard you guys were still here, so I thought I’d stop by. I ran into Teacher Lu at the entrance and managed to drag her along,” Xu Sui said with a smile. “I want to see who’s brave enough to say all those nice things about Teacher Lu to her face.”

Lu Yin nodded politely, her gaze immediately finding Lin Qianqian, who had pulled her hoodie over her head and tightened the drawstring.

So foolish. Uniquely so.

Lin Qianqian’s mind went blank. I’m doomed.

The drinks she had ordered to sober up – milk, honey water, grape juice – hadn’t arrived yet.

Xu Sui and Lu Yin were chatting with her colleagues. The door opened again, and the waiter entered.

“Who ordered these drinks?” someone asked.

“Qianqian! She’s a little tipsy. She’s trying to sober up,” her colleague said helpfully.

“Then bring them over quickly. Why did she drink so much?” another colleague asked, looking at Lin Qianqian’s hooded figure, assuming she was being dramatic.

Lin Qianqian’s face paled. She removed her hood, and her colleague helpfully smoothed her hair.

She took the glass of milk, her eyes meeting Lu Yin’s.

“Maybe I should go home. I’m not feeling well,” she said, wanting to disappear. Her stomach churned, and her head throbbed.

Not from the alcohol, but from Lu Yin.

This woman, dragged here by Xu Sui, had pretended to need her location.

Was this some kind of joke?

Lin Qianqian stood up, her movements unsteady, the noise in the room amplifying her nausea.

As she reached the door, Lu Yin grabbed her arm.

“Sister…my stomach hurts…” Lin Qianqian said, trying to summon tears, her most effective tactic.

But looking at Lu Yin’s impassive face, she couldn’t cry.

She had rarely seen such coldness in Lu Yin’s eyes. Panic set in, a jumble of apologies and questions forming in her mind, but she couldn’t speak.

“Excuse us,” Lu Yin said to the group, her voice polite but distant, opening the door and pulling Lin Qianqian out of the room.

Xu Sui followed, intending to offer them a ride, then looked at Lin Qianqian. “Do you need a ride home? Why did you drink so much? These people are terrible, always picking on the younger ones.”

“No, thank you! I’m fine!” Lin Qianqian waved her hand dismissively.

“We’re going the same way. I’ll take her home,” Lu Yin said.

Xu Sui looked at them, sensing a familiarity between them, and decided not to press the issue.

Lu Yin held Lin Qianqian’s arm firmly as they walked. Lin Qianqian tried to pull away, but Lu Yin’s grip was tight.

“Hey! That hurts!” Lin Qianqian protested, pulling back.

Lu Yin didn’t respond, opening the passenger door and pushing Lin Qianqian inside.

Before Lin Qianqian could protest, the door slammed shut.

She turned to yell at Lu Yin, but Lu Yin hadn’t gotten in the car.

Lin Qianqian tried to open the door, but it was locked. She tapped on the window, trying to get Lu Yin’s attention.

Lu Yin stood beside the car, her back turned.

Her phone vibrated. The caller ID showed “Lin Qian.” She declined the call without hesitation.

She knew where Lin Qianqian was. The tracking app on her phone showed her location clearly.

But she still had to ask, knowing Lin Qianqian was prone to lying, needing to control the situation, the outcome.

She calmed herself, pushing aside the image of someone else touching Lin Qianqian’s hair, refusing to imagine the circumstances that had led to Lin Qianqian’s drunken state.

Her clothes disheveled, her speech slurred, her judgment impaired. She never learned.

Did she really think Lu Yin would take care of her forever?

And Lin Qianqian still seemed to believe that a few smiles and a bit of aegyo would earn her forgiveness.

But things were different now.

Lu Yin knew that if Lin Qianqian continued her lies, her denials…

She would kill her. Right here, right now.