Category: Immature Confession Day gl

Chapter 21

Zhong Shiwu called again while Lu Yin was on the balcony, finally hanging up a garment that had been drying there for three days.

“Good afternoon, Doctor Zhong,” Lu Yin said, putting her phone on speaker.

“Not good at all,” Zhong Shiwu’s voice was laced with disapproval.

Lu Yin remembered Zhong Shiwu’s current situation; her newlywed husband was in the ICU, his recovery uncertain.

“My condolences,” she offered.

“You know that’s not what I’m talking about,” Zhong Shiwu said, the rustling of papers audible in the background. “As far as I know, if you were taking your medication as prescribed, you should have run out by now.”

She scoffed. “But you haven’t just been taking it regularly these past two weeks. You’ve been overdosing.”

“I need to maintain a stable emotional state for work,” Lu Yin deflected.

“If I’m not mistaken, you’re using medication to avoid certain interactions,” Zhong Shiwu paused, putting the papers away. “But you can’t handle the withdrawal symptoms.”

“I’ll find a solution,” Lu Yin said, her brow furrowing as she thought of Lin Qianqian’s resistance to moving out.

“You sound overly confident, even arrogant,” Zhong Shiwu said, unconvinced. “But I interpret that as a sign that you’ve given up asking for help and chosen self-deception, which is actually a manifestation of low self-esteem.”

Lu Yin paused, continuing to hang the laundry as if unaffected.

“I told you before, medication can’t address the root cause. It’s your inner demons that are holding you captive. That’s what we need to focus on,” Zhong Shiwu sighed. Lu Yin was the most challenging patient she had ever encountered.

Too self-aware, too resistant to confronting her past.

“Lu Yin,” Zhong Shiwu softened her tone, trying a different approach. “Don’t be so pessimistic.”

Lu Yin’s gaze darkened.

She didn’t have the courage to face reality, even though she knew everything about Lin Qianqian’s life abroad.

She knew Lin Qianqian hadn’t changed her phone number. Despite being blocked on WeChat, Lin Qianqian had conspicuously shared her other social media accounts, documenting her life online.

From learning photography, another way to “capture beauty,” to adorning herself with reindeer-themed accessories at Christmas.

Lu Yin had seen it all, shamelessly stalking Lin Qianqian’s online presence.

She understood the message, but chose to ignore it.

If being together wasn’t a good thing, then she should let go.

She should be selfish.

Lu Yin wasn’t sure if she had changed, but Lin Qianqian hadn’t.

The girl had returned, full of hope, picking up the pieces of their broken relationship, trying to drag Lu Yin back into the light.

Smiling brightly when happy, sulking petulantly when upset.

The memories resurfaced, the suppressed desires rekindled, growing stronger, harder to control.

This wasn’t what she wanted.

She should be watching Lin Qianqian move on, find happiness with someone else.

She would wallow in her own misery, burying her demons along with her unspoken desires.

“Lu Yin,” Zhong Shiwu said, breaking the silence. “Forget that I’m your psychiatrist. As a friend of Lu Sui’s, I don’t want to see you like this. Lu Sui wouldn’t want this either.”

“You should try to connect with her, wait for an opportunity. Then you can decide what to do,” Zhong Shiwu’s voice regained its professional tone. “For example, let her stay. Or…do you want a kiss from her?”

The line went dead. Zhong Shiwu had hung up.

Lu Yin stared at the girl’s shirt, a large smiley face printed on the front.

She turned it inside out and hung it up, then walked back to the living room.

---

Lin Qianqian met with Ming Yao again, watching her scribble the number 1 on a piece of paper and circle it.

“She said I should write down my demands so she understands them clearly.”

“Who?” Lin Qianqian asked absently, her mind elsewhere.

She was preoccupied with finding a way to stay, another excuse to avoid moving out. She couldn’t think of anything and didn’t have the nerve to beg Lu Yin again.

Last night’s conversation had been clear enough, bordering on desperate.

“Who else?” Ming Yao scribbled a line and then crossed it out. “Does she think I’m a child?”

“Legally speaking, you kind of are,” Lin Qianqian said, opening the apartment rental app again.

“She’s not that much older than me. Only sixteen years.”

“Sixteen years…” Lin Qianqian echoed. “Almost a full adult.”

“She’s always so busy. I haven’t had a proper conversation with her yet,” Ming Yao said, resting her chin on her hand, feeling frustrated. “She keeps brushing me off.”

She didn’t hear a response from Lin Qianqian and looked up. “Why are you so down?”

“I’m about to be homeless,” Lin Qianqian said, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t want to find another apartment. I don’t want to move. I didn’t come back just to work at some random company.”

“Wasn’t your sister picking you up from work a few days ago?”

“About that…” Lin Qianqian started to explain, then shook her head, defeated. It was a long story.

Ming Yao, seeing her distress, tried to offer some comfort, then looked down at the blank piece of paper, her own worries resurfacing.

They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts.

The waiter arrived with their drinks, breaking the silence.

They put their worries aside, reminiscing about their time abroad, laughing and crying, as if they could erase their current troubles with shared memories.

Lin Qianqian didn’t drink much. She wasn’t one to drown her sorrows in alcohol. Sadness usually killed her appetite.

She drank just enough to feel a slight buzz, her mind clear despite the alcohol.

She saw the thoroughly drunk Ming Yao off in the car that had come to pick her up and then took a taxi home.

As she unlocked the door and stepped inside, she heard voices from the living room.

Her heart pounded with anxiety. She peeked into the living room. The woman sitting on the sofa turned around.

Lin Qianqian recognized her instantly. It was the woman from the video call.

So…

Lu Yin had brought her home.

“Hello,” the woman greeted her with a smile.

Lin Qianqian sensed a casual confidence in her demeanor.

She interpreted it as a challenge.

Lu Yin glanced at her, then looked away, saying nothing.

Lin Qianqian noticed the wine glasses, the expensive liquor, the half-eaten pastries on the coffee table, and regretted not getting drunk herself.

Then she could have stumbled into bed and passed out, oblivious to everything.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked.

Before anyone could answer, she added, “I’ll just go to my room.”

It was unclear whether she was referring to the current situation or something else entirely.

Chapter 20

From picking her up at the airport, to providing food and lodging, to driving her to and from work, Lu Yin had been incredibly accommodating.

If it was simply because of their past relationship, Lu Yin wouldn’t go to such lengths, unless there was another reason.

Lu Yin only took care of people she cared about, like Lin Qianqian when she was younger.

If Lu Yin hadn’t changed, Lin Qianqian might even believe Lu Yin still cared.

Except Lu Yin was much more reserved now, her emotions hidden beneath a mask of indifference.

Lin Qianqian replayed recent events in her mind, arriving at a conclusion that startled even herself—

Lu Yin was protecting her, but couldn’t admit it due to their complicated history.

She even…

Still had feelings for her.

People tend to believe what they want to believe. Lin Qianqian clung to this idea, her conviction growing.

But if that were true, why the mixed signals, the attempts to push her away?

Hearing the water running in the bathroom, she wanted to barge in and demand answers.

This woman was so cruel, yet so kind. Lin Qianqian couldn’t even find a reason to be angry.

She waited for Lu Yin to emerge from the bathroom, her hair wet and dripping.

Lin Qianqian immediately showed her the picture.

Lu Yin glanced at it dismissively, grabbed a clean towel, hung the wet one to dry, and returned to the bathroom.

As she picked up the hairdryer, Lin Qianqian snatched it away.

“This is you.”

“Yes, it’s me. So?” Lu Yin turned the hairdryer back on, ignoring Lin Qianqian’s accusatory tone.

Lin Qianqian unplugged it, earning a curious look from Lu Yin.

“I told you I felt like someone was following me today. Why didn’t you react?”

“How should I have reacted?” Lu Yin put the hairdryer away and continued drying her hair with a towel.

“You were following me because you were worried about the robber,” Lin Qianqian stated, her voice firm. “And yesterday too. You didn’t have to come to the office, but you did, just to make sure I was okay. You even bought jianbing(crepes) to stall for time.”

Lu Yin chuckled. “That’s a creative theory, but I wouldn’t jeopardize my job for something like that.”

“But it’s true…” Lin Qianqian’s eyes welled up.

Why wouldn’t Lu Yin admit it?

“Believe what you want. I can’t stop you,” Lu Yin walked into the living room. Lin Qianqian followed, still determined to get answers.

“The traffic light was a coincidence. I was at your office for work yesterday. I did buy you a jianbing so I wouldn’t have to cook later,” Lu Yin addressed each point. “If I hadn’t seen you downstairs yesterday, I would have assumed someone else gave you a ride home.”

Lin Qianqian’s theory was plausible, and Lu Yin’s explanations were perfectly reasonable.

“And the robber has been caught. You told me that yourself, didn’t you?”

That shattered Lin Qianqian’s theory completely.

“You still want me to leave, don’t you?” Lin Qianqian wiped her eyes, her voice breaking. “Why are you doing this…?”

“We agreed from the beginning that I would let you stay until you found a stable job.”

Lu Yin looked at her, at her tear-streaked face, her attempt to appear strong despite her obvious distress.

She looked away.

“But I like living here. I can pay rent.”

“There’s no need. I don’t like repeating myself,” Lu Yin frowned at the takeout containers on the table.

“I haven’t finished eating yet. I didn’t forget to clean up. I’m not messy…”

“It’s fine. Just clean up when you’re done,” Lu Yin said calmly.

Lin Qianqian desperately searched for a reason to stay, but everything she said was easily countered by Lu Yin.

Had she been wrong?

Was Lu Yin’s kindness merely pity?

“You can’t do this…” Lin Qianqian sobbed. “I’m not ready… You can’t make me leave…”

Lu Yin felt a pang of guilt but said nothing, walking towards her room.

“Lu Yin!” Lin Qianqian called out, following her.

She opened the door to see Lu Yin undressing, her back bare, applying body lotion.

“I can’t talk right now,” Lu Yin frowned, her back still turned, glancing at Lin Qianqian from the corner of her eye.

Lin Qianqian retreated, sitting down outside the door.

She couldn’t understand. She had presented her theory, her evidence, only to be rejected again.

It made perfect sense. There were no flaws in her logic, yet Lu Yin refused to acknowledge it.

She would rather be scolded, yelled at, than treated with this casual indifference.

Lin Qianqian felt like a disposable object, easily discarded.

And she was right.

When Lu Yin opened the door, she saw Lin Qianqian sitting on the floor, hugging her knees, a small, pathetic figure.

Hearing the door open, Lin Qianqian looked up, her face streaked with tears, like a stray dog finally finding its way home, only to be turned away.

Lu Yin ignored her, continuing down the hallway, but Lin Qianqian grabbed her leg.

“Sister…” Lin Qianqian pleaded, fresh tears streaming down her face. “I can’t take care of myself…”

Lu Yin crouched down. “I’ll help you find a place. I’ll pay the deposit. I’ll even help you move when I have time. And you can always contact me if you have any problems.”

She offered a tissue, waiting for Lin Qianqian to take it.

This wasn’t the answer Lin Qianqian wanted.

She swatted Lu Yin’s hand away and ran back to her room.

Lu Yin crumpled the tissue and tossed it in the trash.

She couldn’t sleep that night.

The pill bottle was empty. She couldn’t control her emotions, her mind filled with the silent accusations of her nightmares.

The nightmares both pitied and mocked her, her life a pathetic and shameful existence.

Zhong Shiwu had contacted her earlier, but Lu Yin had refused to meet.

Zhong Shiwu wanted to address the root of the problem, but Lu Yin didn’t.

Lu Yin stared at the painting on the wall.

It wasn’t that she had made peace with her nightmares, but rather that she had become accustomed to being controlled by her desires, surviving in a world devoid of light.

The girl’s blue jeans had disappeared from the painting, replaced by the unnatural, snow-white skin beneath a layer of white paint.

Only the cherry-red lips and the dark, suggestive background hinted at the figure’s humanity.

The girl’s face was swollen and red, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Lu Yin put down her brush and wiped away the tears, her fingertip smudged with wet paint.

“Don’t cry,” she whispered, her voice filled with a strange tenderness. “It hurts me to see you like this.”

She should be trapped within the painting, just like the girl she had imprisoned there. Reopening old wounds took too long to heal, and the chances of recovery were slim.

She had given up hope. All she could do was avoid hurting anyone else.

She avoided Lin Qianqian’s tears, her attempts at intimacy.

Any further contact, and she would lose control, do something she would regret.

Some wounds, once torn open, never healed.

Lu Yin repeated the words in her mind—

Lin Qian, my sister.

Please forgive me.

I beg you.

Forgive me.

Chapter 19

Lin Qianqian buttoned her pajama top, all the way to the top.

She lay back down, stiff and motionless, and managed to sleep through the night without incident.

She still found it odd that Lu Yin, whose work schedule started much earlier than hers, was always at the breakfast table when she woke up.

So, she continued to impose on Lu Yin for rides, regardless of Lu Yin’s plans.

“I’m off today,” Lu Yin said.

Lin Qianqian felt a pang of disappointment. “Your work schedule is so unpredictable.”

“Mm,” Lu Yin agreed. “It depends on the class schedule. Weekends are usually busier.”

“Are you going out later?” Lin Qianqian asked, noticing Lu Yin glance at her. “I…”

“I’m going to the supermarket.”

“Are you going near that big chain supermarket a few blocks from my company?” Lin Qianqian knew her question was clumsy, but her intentions were clear. “I heard they have a good selection.”

“We can go there.”

“Perfect!” Lin Qianqian glanced at the time and quickly finished her breakfast. “Can I get a ride?”

“Let’s go,” Lu Yin said, waiting for her to swallow her last bite before grabbing her car keys.

In the car, Lin Qianqian applied lipstick, admiring Lu Yin’s long trench coat. “Sister, you look beautiful today!”

Even more beautiful if you smiled. Lin Qianqian thought, but didn’t dare say it aloud.

Lu Yin, accustomed to Lin Qianqian’s flattery, simply drove her to work.

After waving goodbye and watching the car drive away, Lin Qianqian remembered to clock in.

Just in time. One minute to spare.

She killed time for two hours, then met Ming Yao for lunch in a private dining room at a nearby restaurant.

“Restaurants with private rooms near the office are usually terrible,” Lin Qianqian said, scanning the menu. “Expensive and terrible.”

“I’m short on time. I can’t take you anywhere else,” Ming Yao said, handing her a document. “Look at this.”

“A will?” It was filled with financial jargon and company shares. Lin Qianqian couldn’t make sense of it. “You get sixty percent, and your stepmother gets forty?”

“She gave me an extra ten percent,” Ming Yao seemed much happier than their last meeting. “I managed to convince her.”

“You contacted your stepmother? This will seems a bit…casual,” Lin Qianqian said, sensing that Ming Yao was being manipulated.

“She arrived this morning. I went to see her immediately.”

“Have you had a lawyer look at this?”

“Not yet. I just came from her place. She was busy with work.”

“What does she do?”

“She’s a psychiatrist. She owns a private clinic.”

Lin Qianqian scrutinized the document, then handed it back. “You should definitely consult a lawyer.”

“I will,” Ming Yao beamed. “If I can get another ten or twenty percent, that would be even better.”

Lin Qianqian hesitated, then asked, “I don’t know if I should ask this, but…she was only married to your father for a short time. Do you really trust her?”

“I hired a lot of people to deal with my half-siblings. She was the only one who succeeded,” Ming Yao said dismissively. “I just want the money. Otherwise, I’ll get even less. Whether they live or die is irrelevant to me.”

Lin Qianqian decided to support Ming Yao’s decision. She didn’t understand the intricacies of wealth and inheritance and didn’t want to offer unsolicited advice. Rich people’s squabbles were best avoided.

Although they were friends, she knew her place.

Ming Yao paid for lunch. Back at the office, Lin Qianqian quickly forgot about it.

The footage from the art institution had been sorted. Lin Qianqian logged into the company account and began selecting photos and writing captions.

Her colleague sent her a few similar articles as templates.

Seeing the photos she had taken, she thought of Lu Yin.

Even a few hours apart was enough to make her miss Lu Yin, but the memory of their encounter at the studio was tainted by Lu Yin’s cold politeness.

Lu Yin was a painter. Lu Sui had been a painter too.

Both were talented.

She had few memories of Lu Sui, only a vague impression of a gentle and kind woman. It explained Lu Yin’s former warmth and soft-spoken nature, her constant smile.

Lu Sui was mostly mentioned by Lin Yun, who often spoke ill of her, criticizing her short life and poor judgment. Lin Qianqian would always try to silence her, afraid Lu Yin would overhear.

She didn’t want Lu Yin to dislike her.

Lin Qianqian rested her chin on her hand, submitting the finished captions for review, feeling sleepy.

As a child, sharing a bed with Lu Yin, she would fall asleep in Lu Yin’s arms, lulled by a soft melody.

As an adult, sharing a bed with Lu Yin, she would often wet the sheets in her sleep, too tired to care, clinging to Lu Yin’s warmth.

They would leave the damp sheets until morning, cuddling in the dry part of the bed.

Last night, however, they had lain on opposite sides of the bed, barely speaking, Lu Yin’s coldness a stark contrast to the intimacy she craved.

She hadn’t done anything wrong. Even her attempt to wipe the sweat from Lu Yin’s forehead had been rejected. She didn’t know what Lu Yin had dreamt about, but it must have been disturbing.

Lin Qianqian touched her wrist, remembering Lu Yin’s unconscious grip.

She was curious about Lu Yin’s nightmares…

Work was monotonous. The news story continued for days, no arrest made. Her colleagues complained about the constant anxiety.

The woman who sat next to her had been on leave for several days. Lin Qianqian wondered if she was too scared to come to work.

She left the office alone, heading towards the subway station.

The station was a bit of a walk. Most people used shared bikes, but Lin Qianqian was too lazy, preferring to stroll.

The usual route was under construction, blocked off to pedestrians. Lin Qianqian took a detour.

She had walked this way once before with her colleague. She should be able to find her way.

The sound of barking dogs startled her. She looked up from her phone, searching for the source.

Several dog owners had gathered, their dogs barking ferociously at each other, despite their different sizes. A small dog was relentlessly harassing a Samoyed.

Lin Qianqian looked around. The street was unfamiliar.

She opened the map app, trying to orient herself.

She had left work late and had been dawdling. Now, it was dark, and the streets were empty. She felt uneasy.

The news story about the robbery added to her anxiety.

She glanced behind her. Nothing. But her heart was racing.

At a traffic light, she noticed a long shadow behind her. As she walked, it followed.

When the light turned green, she ran, sprinting towards the subway station, her heart pounding. Only when she was surrounded by people did she feel safe. She looked around nervously.

If only Lu Yin would pick her up like she had before…

She dreaded the crowded subway during rush hour.

Exiting the station, she saw a familiar figure at a fruit stand.

Lu Yin was holding half a watermelon, waiting for the vendor to weigh it.

Lin Qianqian had casually mentioned the previous day that they had every kind of fruit except watermelon.

It seemed Lu Yin had overheard her.

She hurried over, her anxiety easing.

“Want some oranges? The last ones were too sour. I’m bad at picking them,” Lin Qianqian pointed at a crate of oranges. “Sister, help me choose.”

“I already bought some,” Lu Yin gestured towards a bag beside her. They were both waiting to pay.

Lin Qianqian took the bag and they walked home together.

Several notifications popped up on her phone, tagging her in the work chat group. It was a company-wide announcement.

The robber had been caught. Everyone was celebrating, relieved they could finally commute without fear.

Lin Qianqian showed Lu Yin the message. “I took a different route home today, and I felt like someone was following me.”

Lu Yin paused, placing the fruit on the table.

“I ran all the way to the subway station,” Lin Qianqian said, clutching her chest. “I thought the robber was after me.”

“Don’t say such things,” Lu Yin admonished her.

“It’s good to be cautious, right?” Lin Qianqian peeled an orange, smiling as the sweet juice filled her mouth. “If I hadn’t run fast enough, then, then…”

Lu Yin didn’t seem interested in discussing it further. The robber had been caught. There was no need to dwell on it.

Lin Qianqian ordered takeout and browsed her phone. Lu Yin went to take a shower.

Then, Ming Yao messaged her.

[Ming Yao: Your sister is picking you up from work now? And you’re still pretending you haven’t made any progress in getting back together?]

[Lin Qianqian: When did she pick me up from work?]

Ming Yao sent a picture.

It was Lin Qianqian waiting at a traffic light, a figure walking behind her.

Lin Qianqian recognized Lu Yin instantly.

Chapter 18

As it turned out, local news stories had a long shelf life.

The next day, Lin Qianqian endured another round of disturbing crime reports, her anxiety growing.

Her designated subway buddy had called in sick.

With both workstations beside her empty, Lin Qianqian considered taking a taxi home.

But what if the driver was dangerous?

She ran a hand through her hair, her fear escalating.

Half an hour before closing time, she saw a familiar figure enter the office with Xu Sui.

Lu Yin?

Lin Qianqian craned her neck to see, but the closed door blocked her view.

“Isn’t that the teacher from the art institution? She’s so pretty.”

“I demand she quit her job and join our company. I’m tired of looking at pictures of beautiful women online.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s here to talk to the boss about the promotional video. We edited a few versions, but they haven’t been approved yet.”

“Couldn’t they just discuss it over the phone? Why come all the way here, especially so close to closing time?”

“Who knows?”

…

Lin Qianqian listened to their chatter, wondering why Lu Yin had come all this way.

But if Lu Yin happened to be leaving around the same time, she could ask for a ride. She wasn’t sure if Lu Yin was going back to the institution.

Maybe Lu Yin could drop her off on the way?

She stared at the clock, remembering her missed opportunity to take pictures of Lu Yin at the studio.

The camera belonged to the company, and using her phone would have been too obvious.

With one minute left, her colleagues had packed their bags and were heading towards the main lobby to clock out.

Only Lin Qianqian remained at her workstation, the office door still closed.

“Leaving together, Qianqian?” a colleague asked.

“No, I’m waiting for someone,” Lin Qianqian replied.

Five minutes passed. Lu Yin still hadn’t emerged.

Lin Qianqian clocked out and packed her things.

As she pressed the elevator button, she heard voices approaching.

She recognized Lu Yin’s polite but distant tone and slowed her pace, dragging her feet.

The conversation shifted from work to casual chatter. Lin Qianqian frowned, annoyed.

Xu Sui approached her. “Qianqian? Still here? Do you need a ride home? It’s not safe to be out alone so late.”

“No, thanks! I’ll be fine!” Lin Qianqian waved her hand dismissively, noticing Lu Yin exchange a glance with Xu Sui before walking away without a word.

She wanted to call out to Lu Yin, but Xu Sui’s presence held her back.

Xu Sui sighed. “That news story has everyone on edge. I hope they catch him soon.”

Lin Qianqian nodded, quickening her pace, her eyes fixed on Lu Yin’s retreating figure.

Why is she walking so fast?

Lin Qianqian glanced at her phone, her fingers hovering over the keyboard, typing nothing.

“Boss, I have something urgent to attend to. I have to go,” she said apologetically.

Xu Sui urged her to leave. “Is it urgent? I can give you a ride.”

“It’s fine! I’ll go now!” Lin Qianqian hurried out of the building, scanning the street for Lu Yin.

She spotted Lu Yin emerging from a nearby restaurant, carrying a takeout bag.

“Sister!” Lin Qianqian’s face lit up. “That place has great jianbing! Which one did you get? And what kind of soup? Black rice or millet?”

Lu Yin glanced at her. “I just picked something. I didn’t really look.”

“Are you going home?” Lin Qianqian asked. “Can I… I’m really scared…”

She followed Lu Yin to the car, watching her open the passenger door. “Get in.”

As Lin Qianqian stepped into the car, she realized she wouldn’t be having dinner. Lu Yin had already bought takeout.

“Can I get a jianbing too? You just bought one, so you know they’re quick.”

She might as well buy one here and eat the same thing as Lu Yin.

Lu Yin held up the takeout bag. “Eat this.”

“Huh?” Lin Qianqian took the bag. “Aren’t you eating?”

“There are two servings,” Lu Yin said, getting into the driver’s seat.

Lin Qianqian smiled to herself. Lu Yin still cared.

If Lu Yin was eating, she would eat too!

---

That night, Lin Qianqian used the same excuse to crawl into Lu Yin’s bed.

Besides the robber, she couldn’t think of another reason to stay, another excuse to avoid moving out.

She was just stalling, one day at a time.

To allay Lu Yin’s suspicions, she even browsed apartment listings on her phone, pretending to be actively searching.

“That apartment has poor ventilation. It’ll get stuffy and smelly in the summer heat.”

To her surprise, Lu Yin actually offered a serious critique of the listing on her phone.

“And it’s in a remote location, a kilometer from the subway station. That’s a ten-minute walk.”

Lin Qianqian removed the listing from her favorites. “Apartments near the subway station are ridiculously expensive. Yours is already pricey.”

“You can ask the security guards or the residents in the complex directly. You’ll avoid agency fees and get a better price,” Lu Yin adjusted her sleeping position. “Those online platforms take a huge cut.”

Lin Qianqian wanted to snap, “I don’t want to move out!”

But she deflated. “I’ll keep looking.”

“Mm,” Lu Yin replied.

Annoyed, Lin Qianqian tossed and turned, accidentally pulling the blanket off Lu Yin.

She covered Lu Yin again, tucking the edges around her.

Seeing no reaction, Lin Qianqian propped herself up on her elbow and looked at Lu Yin.

Lu Yin felt her warm breath against her cheek and frowned, a headache forming.

“Lie down,” she said abruptly, startling Lin Qianqian, who quickly lay back down.

“Can I take my pajamas off?” Lin Qianqian asked, unbuttoning her top. “I can’t sleep with clothes on.”

Lu Yin shrugged. “Whatever.”

“But you told me to put them on last night,” Lin Qianqian said, tossing her pajama top onto Lu Yin.

Lu Yin got out of bed, placed the top on a chair, and turned around to see Lin Qianqian in just her bra. Her expression darkened.

“What are you looking at?” Lin Qianqian’s hand hovered over the clasp of her bra, then she covered herself with the duvet. “Luckily, I haven’t taken this off yet.”

“I’ll sleep in the other room,” Lu Yin said, turning to leave.

“No! Sister…” Lin Qianqian scrambled to the edge of the bed, grabbing Lu Yin’s hand. “I’m scared to sleep alone… I’ll have nightmares.”

Lu Yin didn’t reply.

She was the one who had nightmares.

“I’m a very quiet sleeper, I promise!” Lin Qianqian tugged at her arm, trying to pull her closer.

Lu Yin glanced back, her gaze falling on Lin Qianqian’s bare shoulders. Her head throbbed.

“I’m going to get some water.”

Lin Qianqian released her grip, watching Lu Yin leave the room.

She unclasped her bra. She never wore one unless necessary. They were too uncomfortable.

She got out of bed, a shiver running through her as the cool air touched her skin. She put her pajama top back on, buttoning it haphazardly, and followed Lu Yin to the living room.

“I want some water too. Wasn’t the jianbing a little salty?” Lin Qianqian stood beside her, holding a glass.

Lu Yin poured two glasses of warm water and sat down on the sofa, saying nothing.

Lin Qianqian sat opposite her, noticing Lu Yin’s gaze flicker towards her exposed collarbone.

What if I seduced her…? The thought popped into her head, and she immediately acted on it.

She scratched her neck, casually pulling her pajama top off her shoulder.

Lu Yin finished her water in one gulp and stood up, returning to her room.

“Sister!” Lin Qianqian followed, leaving a slipper behind, then hopping back to retrieve it.

She knocked on the door. “Why are you locking me out? We agreed to sleep together!”

After a moment, Lu Yin opened the door.

“Lin Qian, behave yourself.”

Chapter 17

Lu Yin agreed to Lin Qianqian’s request. Lin Qianqian simply thanked her and then retreated to her room, tossing her dirty clothes into the washing machine.

She didn’t know when the robber would be caught, but she had to be prepared to leave at any moment.

She had unpacked her autumn clothes, anticipating the cooler weather, but now it seemed she would have to repack them.

Lying on her bed, her hair a mess, she thought about why she had come back.

Her graduate advisor, though strict and demanding, held herself and her students to high standards. She had admired Lin Qianqian’s ability to remain calm under pressure, working well with others when it mattered most.

Play hard, work hard. Lin Qianqian, despite her laid-back attitude, never held others back.

Her advisor had offered her a chance to continue her studies and work on a project together.

But Lin Qianqian had refused, saying she had something more important to do, a past to mend.

Yet, in front of Lu Yin, she felt like a burden.

And she was.

If she and Lin Yun hadn’t moved in, Lu Yin’s life would have been easier, free from the responsibility of caring for her, providing for her every need.

Now, as an adult, she had returned, imposing herself on Lu Yin again, despite their bitter past.

She knew she shouldn’t stay, but hearing those words from Lu Yin had stung.

Unable to sleep, Lin Qianqian scrolled through the work chat group.

The robbery had become a local trending topic. She read the comments and the even more disturbing news stories shared by her colleagues.

It only made her more anxious and afraid.

She couldn’t help but imagine the worst-case scenario.

If the robber wasn’t caught, wouldn’t she be in danger commuting alone after she moved out?

Tossing and turning, her mind filled with news reports, she finally screamed in frustration, grabbed her pillow, and marched to Lu Yin’s room, banging on the door.

Lu Yin opened the door after the second knock, her hair messy, her eyes still sleepy. She had clearly been woken up.

“Sister, can I sleep with you tonight…?” Lin Qianqian clutched the pillow tightly. “I’m scared…”

“Scared of the news?” Lu Yin asked.

Lin Qianqian nodded. “I’ll just take a small part of the bed. I’m a good sleeper…”

Worried about being rejected, she added, “It’s still hot. I can sleep on the floor…”

“Do you want the inside or the outside?” Lu Yin opened the door wider, letting her in and closing it behind her.

“The inside is fine,” Lin Qianqian quickly climbed into bed, pressing herself against the wall.

Lu Yin gave her the blanket and took a thin throw from the closet, lying down on the edge of the bed.

Lin Qianqian inhaled the comforting scent of the blanket, watching Lu Yin’s back.

She wanted to be closer, but it seemed impossible for now.

Sharing a bed with Lu Yin, however, brought a sense of security, and she quickly fell asleep.

The air conditioning ran all night. Lin Qianqian burrowed under the covers, unconsciously seeking warmth…

…

In the dead of night, Lu Yin climbed the stairs to the loft, finding Lin Qianqian standing before the painting, her eyes vacant, devoid of light, her movements mechanical, as if controlled by an unseen force.

“Sister, why did you paint me?” she asked.

The girl began to undress, her clothes mirroring those of the figure in the painting, until she stood clad only in thin underwear.

‘Not enough, is it, Sister? I know what you’re thinking,’ the girl whispered.

She removed the remaining garments. The painting on the wall turned stark white, as if the figure had escaped.

Lu Yin stared at her, at her naked body, the pale skin flushed in the dim light.

‘You’ve been thinking about me for a long time, haven’t you?’ the girl’s voice was hollow, devoid of emotion.

She stepped closer, rising onto her tiptoes, her lips close to Lu Yin’s. ‘Sister, don’t you want to kiss me?’

‘But you’re afraid,’ the girl laughed, a cruel, mocking sound. ‘And you’re not worthy.’

‘You’re not Lin Qian,’ Lu Yin finally spoke, her voice strained. ‘You’re not her.’

‘But I look exactly like her, just like the painting,’ the girl’s hand reached out, caressing the canvas, merging with the image and then separating. ‘We both belong to you. You raised us, created us.’

‘But now, you can only look,’ the girl’s laughter echoed through the loft.

Lu Yin’s hand tightened around the girl’s throat, pinning her against the wall, watching the color drain from her face.

Her other hand tore through the imagined jungle, her grip unrelenting, as the girl gasped for air, her mocking words echoing in Lu Yin’s ears. ‘Sister, you’re so pathetic…’

Lu Yin squeezed harder, losing control, wanting to destroy her, to make her disappear.

“Sister! Sister!”

Lu Yin’s eyes snapped open. Lin Qianqian was staring at her, her expression filled with panic.

The throw blanket was still on her, but now she was also covered with the duvet.

“Why are you sweating so much?” Lin Qianqian asked, then bit her lip, showing Lu Yin her wrist, where Lu Yin’s fingers had left deep red marks. “Did you have a nightmare? You were gripping my wrist so tightly.”

Lu Yin released her grip and got out of bed to pour a glass of water. “Put your pajamas on.”

She looked at Lin Qianqian.

The girl’s eyes held no mockery, only concern, clear and bright.

The demons in her dream still lingered. Lu Yin knew it.

Lin Qianqian glanced at her unbuttoned pajama top and pulled it closed. “It’s a little hot.”

“Put it on,” Lu Yin repeated.

Lin Qianqian obeyed, buttoning her top.

She knelt beside the bed, reaching out to wipe the sweat from Lu Yin’s forehead, but Lu Yin flinched away.

Lu Yin wiped her forehead with a tissue, her gaze distant.

Lin Qianqian’s shoulders slumped. She knelt for a moment, then lay down on the far side of the bed.

“I’m going back to sleep,” she mumbled, her voice sounding small and vulnerable.

She shifted under the covers, rubbing her wrist. “It really hurts…”

“Let me see,” Lu Yin said.

“See what?” Lin Qianqian turned over, facing away from Lu Yin, hiding her wrist.

“Your wrist. Let me see,” Lu Yin repeated softly.

Lin Qianqian held out her wrist, the red marks clearly visible. “It’s fine. It’ll fade.”

“I’m sorry,” Lu Yin said, gently massaging her wrist.

Lin Qianqian sniffled, her eyes welling up.

Lu Yin looked up, then quickly looked away, unable to bear the sight of her vulnerability.

Her gaze remained fixed on Lin Qianqian’s wrist.

She didn’t dare look anywhere else.

Lin Qianqian pulled her hand back slightly, biting her lip and looking at Lu Yin, whose hair was even more disheveled now. She winced.

Lu Yin stopped massaging her wrist.

“It’s still early. Go back to sleep,” Lu Yin sighed, turning away and lying down again.

The duvet was pulled back over Lin Qianqian. She touched her wrist, the warmth of Lu Yin’s touch still lingering.

She fell asleep quickly. Lu Yin, however, remained awake.

She shouldn’t have let her into her room, just like she shouldn’t have brought her home in the first place.

From their initial reunion, to cooking for her, to this unavoidable physical contact.

Lu Yin didn’t trust herself.

Once she started, she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop.

She had made a terrible mistake.

Chapter 16

“What did you say…?” Lin Qianqian asked, as if she had misheard, her eyes welling up.

Lu Yin was kicking her out, giving her no time to prepare, casually dismissing her while she had been trying so hard to be close, to be affectionate.

She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, taking deep breaths, trying to control her emotions.

“You’re an adult, not a child anymore,” Lu Yin said impassively. “I don’t think you should be clinging to me like you used to.”

“But you’re my sister…” Lin Qianqian wiped away her tears, her voice trembling.

Before she could say more, Lu Yin interrupted. “That was the past. We have no relationship now. Why should I take you in? Why should I offer you a safety net? This isn’t a shelter. I decide who stays and who goes.”

Lin Qianqian froze, staring at Lu Yin in disbelief. The gentle and kind sister she knew would never speak so harshly.

…She had almost forgotten.

Four years ago, during their argument, Lu Yin had been like this, her words sharp and unforgiving.

Lu Yin hadn’t changed.

She hadn’t loved her then, and she didn’t love her now.

In Lu Yin’s eyes, she was a burden.

A disruption to her painting, her routine, a nuisance who demanded cold noodles late at night after a long day of work.

She wanted to ask if Lu Yin was being sincere, but Lu Yin’s indifferent expression confirmed her fears. Lu Yin was pushing her away.

Lu Yin, who preferred solitude, didn’t want anyone intruding on her territory.

Lin Qianqian desperately wanted to understand Lu Yin’s thoughts, her motivations.

She could never predict her. When she expected comfort, she was met with harsh words. When she dared to be rebellious, she was coaxed back with unexpected tenderness.

Lin Qianqian wanted to prove she wasn’t childish, but she had no evidence to support her claim.

She could only endure Lu Yin’s cruel words, powerless to argue.

“I’m sorry…” she whispered.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated.

“You still see me as a burden, don’t you?” Lin Qianqian asked, her eyes red, needing confirmation. “Don’t you?”

Lu Yin avoided her gaze.

Lin Qianqian understood. “I’ll pack my things soon…” she said, her voice barely a whisper.

She walked downstairs, her hand on the railing, her tears flowing freely as soon as she turned her back on Lu Yin.

She hurried to her room, locked the door, and leaned against it, sobbing uncontrollably.

She didn’t care if Lu Yin heard her, or if Lu Yin would spend the night in the loft. She needed to release her pain.

Why?

Why was Lu Yin doing this?

Even if it was her apartment, she should at least offer some warning, not treat her like a disposable object.

Despite a terrible night’s sleep, Lin Qianqian was woken by her alarm.

Her eyes were swollen. The apartment was empty, no breakfast on the table.

She went to work hungry and miserable.

Around noon, the HR department shared a news article in the work chat group.

A robbery had occurred near the office building the night before. The victim was a woman. The police were investigating.

The perpetrator was still at large. Employees were advised to avoid walking alone after dark and to avoid lingering downstairs late at night.

“I saw the video online!” a colleague said to Lin Qianqian. “He dragged her into a corner, a blind spot for the security cameras. She managed to break free and run into a nearby restaurant that was still open. If it had been later, when everything was closed, who knows what would have happened.”

Lin Qianqian, still reeling from the previous night’s events, simply nodded, saying she would be careful, then retreated into silence.

She browsed apartment listings on her phone. She had no experience renting in China. Even abroad, her classmates had helped her find a place.

She wasn’t one to make decisions, preferring to follow instructions.

For example, when traveling with friends, she never complained, happily following their itinerary.

Although she hadn’t actually traveled with friends before, only with Lu Yin, but that was a long time ago.

“Are you looking for an apartment?” her colleague asked, seeing her browsing listings.

Lin Qianqian seized the opportunity to ask for advice. “Yes, do you have any recommendations?”

“Hold on, I’ll send you a note!” her colleague exclaimed. “These are all lessons learned from personal experience, painful and expensive lessons!”

Lin Qianqian received the note and thanked her, carefully comparing the listings with the ones she had saved.

She glanced at the rental prices, then at her bank balance, and groaned.

It was the most expensive part of the city. Rent would consume two-thirds of her salary.

Lin Qianqian remained glum all day. Her colleague, assuming she was worried about finding an apartment, offered some words of comfort. “Don’t worry, it shouldn’t take too long. Once you find a place online, you can visit it in person, and if everything looks good, you can sign the contract.”

“I know, thank you,” Lin Qianqian clocked out and headed for the door.

“Qianqian! Wait! I’ll walk with you to the subway station!” her colleague called out, hurrying after her.

Lin Qianqian slowed down, waiting for her at the elevator.

“I wasn’t too worried about that news story before, but after hearing everyone talk about it all day, I’m starting to get scared,” her colleague said, her expression worried. “Let’s leave together for a while.”

“Sure,” Lin Qianqian agreed readily.

They took different subway lines, parting ways at the station.

As she walked towards her apartment complex, Lin Qianqian reread the news article.

It hadn’t bothered her during the day, but now, walking alone in the dark, she felt a surge of fear.

She started running, unlocking the apartment door and quickly closing it behind her, leaning against the wall to catch her breath.

Lu Yin looked at her, her expression questioning.

“Um…” Lin Qianqian bit her lip. “Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

Lin Qianqian walked over and showed her the news article on her phone.

Her eyes pleaded for understanding. “Can I stay a few more days? Just a few…”

Chapter 15

Back at the apartment, Lin Qianqian avoided Lu Yin, silently retreating to her room and then to the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

She splashed water on her face, the droplets running down her cheeks.

The sound of running water from the kitchen indicated Lu Yin was probably making cold noodles, even though it was past ten.

Lu Yin wasn’t as easily swayed by flattery as before, yet Lin Qianqian still found herself susceptible to Lu Yin’s cooking.

She didn’t want to admit it, but it was true.

After her shower, her mood had improved slightly.

Only in Lu Yin’s home, alone with Lu Yin, could she delude herself into believing things were the same as before.

A bowl of cold noodles, garnished with chopped scallions and spices, sat on the dining table.

Lin Qianqian mixed the noodles. They weren’t soggy, perfectly cooked.

It tasted exactly like last time, exactly like when they were younger.

She glanced towards Lu Yin’s room and knocked on the door, bowl in hand. No answer.

She knocked again. Silence.

Her attempt to express gratitude through culinary praise had failed.

She had only wanted to maintain appearances in front of others. Once they were home, the charade was over.

Lu Yin must be in the loft.

Lin Qianqian quickly finished the noodles, drank some water, grabbed a popsicle from the freezer, and went upstairs.

There she was.

Lu Yin sat at the easel, staring blankly at the canvas, her brush clean, the paintbox untouched.

An empty stool sat beside her. Lin Qianqian sat down without hesitation.

Her rebellious streak was short-lived. In front of Lu Yin, she always reverted to her submissive self.

“Sister, I can’t open it,” Lin Qianqian offered the popsicle. “I finished the noodles and washed the bowl.”

Lu Yin set down her brush and broke the popsicle, giving Lin Qianqian the shorter end.

It was a childhood habit.

Back then, Lin Qianqian’s small hands could only hold a small portion of the popsicle. If given both halves, the second would melt and drip onto her clothes, forcing her to lick her shirt if she didn’t change immediately.

“You eat this one. I want the bigger half,” Lin Qianqian pointed. “The one with the wrapper. It has a little extra.”

She grinned mischievously. “Sister, you’re so greedy, taking even the smallest advantage.”

Lu Yin gave her the larger half and picked up her brush again, still not touching the paint.

“Did you eat any noodles?” Lin Qianqian asked, already knowing the answer. “You didn’t, did you? Are you hungry? Did you only make one serving?”

Lu Yin put down her brush again, placing it in the holder.

“There’s no paint in the paintbox. How can you paint?” Lin Qianqian knew she was being disruptive but continued her relentless teasing.

“I was too tired to talk at the studio.”

They both knew the real reason, but tacitly accepted the excuse.

Lin Qianqian felt pathetic, and she was.

She had rejected Lu Yin’s attempts at reconciliation, only to return later, seeking her approval.

When she was in a good mood, Lu Yin became distant.

She didn’t know when this cycle of alternating moods would end.

It didn’t matter. She could comfort herself.

If Lu Yin ignored her, she would secretly dislike Lu Yin for one minute.

No, one minute was too long.

One second.

“If you’re tired, go to bed,” Lu Yin said, placing the easel in the corner and picking up some scraps of paper from the rug.

“Are you sleeping here tonight?” Lin Qianqian glanced at the rug on the floor. “The floor is hard. I’d feel bad if you got sick.”

Lu Yin put the paintbox away. “Did you buy new paints for your classes? What colors? Can I see them?” Lin Qianqian asked.

Lu Yin walked towards the empty hook on the wall and stood there silently.

Lin Qianqian joined her. “Am I bothering you?”

“What do you think?” Lu Yin stared at the wall.

“Not really. You never thought I was annoying when we were younger,” Lin Qianqian touched the hook. “What painting are you going to hang here?”

She looked up at Lu Yin, realizing Lu Yin was staring at her.

“Why are you looking at me?” Lin Qianqian felt uneasy under her gaze, looking down and poking Lu Yin in the side.

Lu Yin grabbed her wrist and pulled her hand away.

Lin Qianqian felt a slight twinge of pain but didn’t let go, her other hand reaching out to grasp Lu Yin’s.

Lu Yin’s expression shifted, her eyes filled with an emotion Lin Qianqian couldn’t decipher. She reluctantly released her grip.

“I asked you, what painting are you going to hang here?” Lin Qianqian tried to break the tension. “If you haven’t decided, I can help you choose.”

“How about a portrait of me?”

“No, no, that would be bad luck!”

“Then a picture of us together? But we don’t have any…”

Lin Qianqian fidgeted with the hem of Lu Yin’s shirt, tugging at it and watching it spring back.

“Lin Qian.”

“What?” Lin Qianqian looked at her, her hands behind her back, her expression defiant.

Lu Yin looked back at the wall, at the hook Lin Qianqian had touched.

Lin Qianqian wasn’t like a painting, easily hung and confined.

She had her own will, her own thoughts. Just like she had touched the hook and then dismissed it.

While Lu Yin felt trapped, bound to the wall by an invisible force.

Her desires, locked away, formed an invisible net, holding her captive.

Lin Qianqian didn’t interrupt the silence, patiently waiting for Lu Yin to speak, sensing the gravity of the moment.

Moonlight streamed through the window. The expression in Lu Yin’s eyes seemed to dim, like a drowning person releasing their last grasp on a lifeline.

Lin Qianqian dismissed it as an illusion. Her sister, so driven and determined, had gone from having nothing to achieving so much in just four years.

Perhaps less than four, considering she knew nothing about Lu Yin’s life during that time, hadn’t even spoken to her.

She hadn’t dared to contact her.

How could someone so resilient appear so defeated?

Lin Qianqian felt a growing unease.

She waited for Lu Yin to speak, her head bowed, her toes nudging Lu Yin’s.

Then, she heard the words she had dreaded the most.

“It’s the weekend in two days. Pack your things.”

Chapter 14

The square grid of Minesweeper appeared on the screen. Unable to find a safe spot, Lin Qianqian randomly clicked on a tile.

Boom. Game over.

Lin Qianqian sighed. Less than ten minutes had passed.

Hearing a noise at the door, she looked up. “Sister!”

Realizing it wasn’t Lu Yin, she quickly closed Minesweeper and sat up straight.

“You’re Lu Yin’s sister,” Yu Miao observed, studying her.

Lin Qianqian nodded, trying to appear innocent.

The woman before her was well-preserved. Old enough to be called “Auntie,” but Lin Qianqian felt inclined to call her “Sister.”

“I know you,” Yu Miao said with certainty.

“Really?” Lin Qianqian replied politely.

“Of course. I was a good friend of Lu Sui’s,” Yu Miao smiled.

Lin Qianqian’s smile vanished. She shifted uncomfortably, her expression stiffening.

Lu Sui. Lu Yin’s deceased mother.

“Why are you so nervous?” Yu Miao chuckled. “I just mentioned someone you might know, trying to make conversation.”

Lin Qianqian didn’t believe her. She sensed a coldness in Yu Miao’s eyes.

She and Lin Yun had arrived after Lu Sui’s death. Although they had never met, they were family, and the circumstances of Lu Sui’s death were known to everyone.

Lin Qianqian didn’t want to revisit those painful memories, especially not with someone who might use them against her and Lu Yin—

Even though Lu Sui’s death had nothing to do with them.

She discreetly reached for her phone, wanting to ask Lu Yin when she would be back.

“Xiao Lu is in a meeting, discussing the filming,” Yu Miao said, seeing right through her.

Lin Qianqian hadn’t expected to fool her. She stubbornly typed a message to Lu Yin.

Before she could finish, Lu Yin entered.

“Yu Jie, they’re waiting for you.”

“I’ll be right there,” Yu Miao replied with a smile.

“Lin Qian is my sister. I’ll take care of her,” Lu Yin said, addressing Yu Miao’s retreating figure.

Yu Miao stopped, turned around, shrugged dismissively, and left.

Lu Yin glanced at Lin Qianqian’s expression and guessed what Yu Miao had said.

She pulled up a chair and sat beside her, resting her arm on the desk. “It’s almost ten.”

Lin Qianqian didn’t reply, turning her head away.

“Did you play Minesweeper?” Lu Yin asked.

She clicked on the “Recently Opened” menu. “Did you win?”

Seeing the game history, Lu Yin raised an eyebrow. “It doesn’t look like you enjoyed yourself.”

Lin Qianqian said stubbornly, “I don’t want to stay here. I don’t want to come back.”

Lu Yin sighed, checking the time. Twenty-five minutes until ten. “Can you wait a little longer?”

“No,” Lin Qianqian stood up. “I’m taking the subway home. You can finish your duty.”

“I’ll let them know and then we’ll go home together,” Lu Yin said, walking towards her. “Surely you can wait two minutes?”

Lin Qianqian didn’t reply, leaning against the wall outside the office, staring at her feet.

She watched Lu Yin’s shadow lengthen and disappear before looking up in the direction Lu Yin had gone.

Lu Yin was being unusually patient tonight, but Lin Qianqian wondered how long it would last.

Lu Yin’s moods seemed unpredictable. She had been cold and distant during the filming, and now she was being kind and considerate.

Lu Yin returned quickly. Lin Qianqian’s mood improved slightly as they drove home.

Still wearing Lu Yin’s jacket, she snuggled into the seat, adjusting to a comfortable position.

Lu Yin glanced at her. “We can have cold noodles when we get back.”

“I’m not hungry,” Lin Qianqian pulled a blanket over herself, turning her head towards the window.

She was still upset, but not because of Lu Yin.

She didn’t know what to do. She would take things one step at a time. If Lu Yin didn’t explicitly reject her, she would stay.

But hearing that name in the office, so unexpectedly, had brought back unpleasant memories.

She didn’t even want to remember their arguments, let alone anything else.

Her mind was a mess. She pushed the thoughts away.

The drive home was long. She decided to take a nap.

Silence filled the car. Their conversations were always brief and awkward.

Lu Yin drove with a neutral expression. She knew herself too well.

She could have continued to be cold and distant towards Lin Qianqian, sticking to her plan.

But seeing Lin Qianqian talking to her boss, even knowing it was purely professional, had filled her with a possessive rage.

She took another pill, the kind Zhong Shiwu had forbidden her to take.

It was a tranquilizer, the kind Zhong Shiwu had forced her to take when they first met, when she couldn’t control her emotions.

She had improved since then. The tranquilizers were too strong, and Zhong Shiwu had taken her off them, prescribing only sleeping pills.

Even with her improved mental state, she could still feel the familiar pull of those dark impulses.

She wanted to take Lin Qianqian home and turn her into a specimen, mounted on the half-undressed painting.

That way, she could keep her forever, just like in her countless nightmares, touching her skin, silencing her screams, controlling her breath, until she lost consciousness.

Losing her humanity didn’t matter.

She didn’t have much left anyway.

As long as Lin Qianqian existed only in her fantasies, she could maintain a semblance of hope, however impossible.

But seeing her again, the stench of the past had returned, clinging to her like a shroud.

She wanted to taint her, drag her down into the darkness with her.

She had the means to keep Lin Qianqian captive, to prevent her from working, from interacting with other women, even for polite conversation, even for a polite smile.

Lu Yin stared at the red light, its brightness searing her eyes.

She glanced at the sleeping girl in the passenger seat, curled up in a small ball, her appearance peaceful and innocent.

Like a pure and naive deer, unaware of the danger lurking nearby.

Or perhaps, she felt safe because she was with someone she trusted.

The light turned green. Lu Yin started driving again.

If she couldn’t have her, she would destroy her.

Chapter 13

Xu Sui didn’t stay long, needing to oversee other aspects of the shoot.

Once they were alone in the studio, Lin Qianqian finally relaxed.

“Sister! Look at the camera!” Lin Qianqian focused the camera on Lu Yin, zooming in on her impassive face. She didn’t take the picture, placing the camera on the tripod instead.

She pulled up a chair and took a sip of water from the bottle on the windowsill.

“I was supposed to leave at seven, but I came along for the shoot. I didn’t realize it would be your institution,” Lin Qianqian said, looking at Lu Yin. “I’ve never been here before. Otherwise, I would have recognized it.”

Lu Yin simply nodded in acknowledgment.

The silence lasted only ten seconds, but to Lin Qianqian, it felt like an eternity.

Lu Yin was wearing a short brown trench coat, the sleeves rolled up, revealing her slender wrists.

Lin Qianqian’s gaze lingered on her hands, the long, elegant fingers stained with paint.

She remembered a time when she had annoyed Lu Yin and, as a prank, painted herself like a tiger, roaring at Lu Yin. Lu Yin had burst out laughing, poking her forehead and calling her a little kitten, reminding her that paint could be harmful to her skin.

After that, she noticed a small label on all of Lu Yin’s new paintboxes—

Non-toxic, safe for skin.

“What are we having for dinner?” Lin Qianqian asked. “Why aren’t you talking?”

She took another sip of water and noticed Lu Yin staring at the bottle.

“The boss gave it to me,” she explained, feeling slightly self-conscious.

“Are you stressed because classes are starting?” she asked.

“Classes start in a few days. There won’t be any outsiders then,” Lu Yin finally spoke. “That’s why the filming had to be done today.”

Lin Qianqian wanted to ask, “Am I an outsider?” but thought it was too direct. Instead, she asked, “Can I come here again in a few days?”

“Whenever you want,” Lu Yin replied.

Pleased with the answer, Lin Qianqian’s mood brightened. “Can we have cold noodles again tonight?”

“I might be late. I have to stay for evening duty after the shoot.”

“How long will that take?” Lin Qianqian tried to hide her eagerness. “I don’t know the way back. You have to take me.”

“After the evening class ends, around ten,” Lu Yin told her. “We can leave once everything is locked up.”

Lin Qianqian glanced at the time. Nine o’clock.

She returned the camera, declining a ride back in the company van, making an excuse and waving goodbye to her colleagues.

Turning back, she saw Lu Yin locking up the empty studios.

The building was divided into two sections: the offices and break rooms, which were equipped with single beds and used as temporary dorms, and the studios.

“Let’s go,” Lu Yin said, her hands in her pockets. “It’s still early. We’ll come back when the class ends.”

Lin Qianqian followed obediently.

It was late summer, and the evening air was cool against her bare arms.

She shivered, the chill lingering even after they entered the office.

Lin Qianqian sat at Lu Yin’s desk, noticing the familiar jacket. She picked it up, looking at Lu Yin with a hopeful expression. Seeing Lu Yin nod, she put it on contentedly.

“Are you cold?” Lu Yin asked, handing her a cup of hot water.

“Whose mug is this?” Lin Qianqian asked.

“Mine,” Lu Yin replied.

“…Oh,” Lin Qianqian held the mug with both hands, taking small sips.

Lin Qianqian calculated the time. Class ended at ten. By the time they checked everything and locked up, it would be almost eleven.

It would be too late to cook then. She didn’t want to bother Lu Yin, who was already busy.

“We can’t have cold noodles tonight, can we?” she asked.

“It would be a bit late,” Lu Yin agreed, then added, “But judging by your sleep schedule, you’ll be awake long enough to cook, won’t you?”

“I’m worried about you being tired,” Lin Qianqian said defensively. “How about something else? Like barbecue? And some beer?”

Lu Yin was reviewing student artwork on her computer. She frowned at Lin Qianqian’s suggestion. “Too smelly.”

“But barbecue stalls are the only thing open late,” Lin Qianqian said, her mind racing. “I still have a few packs of instant noodles. Different flavors.”

“Can you be quiet for a moment?” Lu Yin said impatiently, her focus on the artwork. “You won’t starve, no matter how late it is.”

She scrolled through dozens of paintings, her expression indicating dissatisfaction.

“None of them are as good as yours,” Lin Qianqian offered more flattery.

“These are submissions from prospective students,” Lu Yin’s calm tone delivered a harsh truth. “If I weren’t better than them, I’d be out of a job.”

“You’re so mean to me tonight…” Lin Qianqian whined. Lu Yin finally looked at her. “Are you finished with your water?”

“No, but I don’t want any more,” Lin Qianqian handed her the mug. “This water is as cold as your heart.”

Lu Yin, clearly missing the metaphor, took a sip from the mug. “It’s hot.”

Lin Qianqian leaned back in the chair, crossing her arms and feigning indifference, tired of her unrequited affection.

Lu Yin took another sip. “It’s definitely hot.”

Lin Qianqian’s sulking clearly wasn’t working.

A notification popped up on the computer. Lu Yin opened it. It was a message from the work chat group, tagging her.

Lu Yin scanned it quickly. “Wait here. I’ll be back soon.”

“You’re just leaving me here alone?” Lin Qianqian protested.

“Then come with me,” Lu Yin said casually, tilting her head in invitation.

“No, thanks,” Lin Qianqian sat up straight, offering Lu Yin only a haughty背影silhouette.

She didn’t want to disturb Lu Yin’s work and didn’t relish the awkwardness of sitting among strangers.

She would rather stay here and kill time.

“Can I use your computer?” she asked.

“Sure. What for?”

“Minesweeper,” Lin Qianqian replied sullenly.

She didn’t just want to play Minesweeper. She wanted to sweep through Lu Yin’s mind and figure out what she was thinking.

Did she still have feelings for her? Did she want to be with her again?

And had she brought her back willingly?

If so, she would never leave.

She would cling to Lu Yin forever.

Chapter 12

With classes starting soon at the institution, Lin Qianqian couldn’t continue imposing on Lu Yin for rides.

Although she wasn’t entirely sure if it was even on Lu Yin’s way.

On her second day of work, Lin Qianqian was finally given a task: to edit a video into both horizontal and vertical formats, following the company’s usual style.

The previous videos were all humorous, filled with internet memes and emojis. Lin Qianqian, a seasoned internet user, found the work easy and enjoyable.

She started skipping breakfast. Lunch was only two hours away, and eating breakfast would only make her hungry in the afternoon.

The office had just finished a meeting. As a new employee, Lin Qianqian hadn’t been included.

But she overheard that, with the start of the school year and autumn recruitment season approaching, the company was reaching out to various institutions for promotional collaborations.

Lin Qianqian, remembering Lu Yin’s student information forms, doubted the art institution would be interested in such a collaboration.

She had been observing Lu Yin and knew the classes were already full, with a waiting list even for those willing to pay extra.

The list of potential partners was shared in the work chat group. As expected, Lu Yin’s institution wasn’t on it.

Lin Qianqian lost interest, staring at the clock, eager to leave.

Around six o’clock, Xu Sui asked in the office who knew how to operate a camera.

Lin Qianqian rested her head on her hand. No one responded.

So close to closing time, no one wanted to volunteer.

Xu Sui spotted Lin Qianqian’s slumped figure. “Can you?” she asked.

Lin Qianqian chuckled nervously. “I was in the photography club in college.”

Her interest in photography stemmed from Lu Yin. She had tried learning to paint, begging Lu Yin to teach her, but discovered she lacked artistic talent.

She had asked Lu Yin about the purpose of painting, and Lu Yin had replied, “To capture beauty.”

A camera could achieve the same goal.

Photography had become Lin Qianqian’s main hobby abroad.

“Alright, you’re in,” Xu Sui declared. “You’ll be joining us for an off-site project.”

Lin Qianqian glanced at the time—

6:45 PM.

She wanted to cry.

Her positive impression of the company had lasted exactly one day.

She sat in the back corner of the company van, her face pale.

A senior employee patted her shoulder reassuringly. “This only happens once a month. You just got unlucky.”

“I should be crammed on a crowded subway during rush hour,” Lin Qianqian said mournfully, “not on an off-site project with the boss.”

She glanced cautiously at Xu Sui in the front passenger seat, her voice trailing off.

“We’re filming at an institution today. They requested we film after hours so we don’t disrupt their classes.”

“Oh,” Lin Qianqian said. The explanation was reasonable, but she was still annoyed.

Half an hour later, the van stopped in front of an institution.

Lin Qianqian carried the heavy camera, slinging the strap around her neck, then went back for the tripod.

“It’s an art institution,” she observed, noticing the framed artwork and student projects on the walls. “Wait, is this a painting institution?” she asked, realization dawning.

“Yes. Classes ended at 6:30. It took us half an hour to get here. It’s just past seven. Perfect timing,” Xu Sui joined her, setting up the tripod while someone else spoke with the institution’s representative.

Lin Qianqian tensed up, her earlier relaxed demeanor vanishing as Xu Sui approached.

Lin Yun had instilled in her the importance of respecting elders and never questioning authority. Even if they were wrong, they were always right.

This had led to rebellious tendencies in her youth, but after a few harsh lessons from her college professors, she had learned the hard way that bosses were not to be trifled with, and that the adage “even if they’re wrong, they’re right” was, unfortunately, true.

“The lighting here is good. Let’s take some photos first,” Xu Sui instructed.

After fifteen minutes of frantic filming, Lin Qianqian finally understood the source of the gigabytes of useless footage on the company’s hard drive.

The boss was a trigger-happy, indiscriminate filmer.

Lin Qianqian stayed in the hallway, filming with Xu Sui, avoiding the interior of the institution.

She didn’t want to go inside. She just wanted to finish quickly and go home to Lu Yin.

Xu Sui offered her a bottle of water, suggesting she take a break. Lin Qianqian thanked her but couldn’t open the bottle.

Her hands were sweaty from holding the camera.

She held the bottle, deciding to call Lu Yin, just to chat and ask about dinner.

A familiar ringtone echoed from inside the institution. Lin Qianqian looked up, startled, and saw Lu Yin striding towards them. Their eyes met, and Lu Yin hung up the phone.

But this institution wasn’t on the list…

Lu Yin ignored her, approaching Xu Sui and engaging her in conversation.

“Hello, Teacher Lu,” Xu Sui extended her hand.

Lu Yin gestured apologetically at the paint on her hands. Xu Sui understood and withdrew her hand.

Lin Qianqian stood there, listening to Lu Yin’s polite and professional tone, not even glancing in her direction.

This must have been a common occurrence for Lu Yin over the past few years, interacting with people calmly and professionally, her expression pleasant but distant.

It was how Lu Yin had treated her during their first week together.

But now, she sensed a subtle difference.

She was doing something right. Just a little more effort, and she would be closer to Lu Yin again.

“Let’s go, Qianqian,” Xu Sui waved her hand, motioning for her to follow.

Lu Yin finally looked at her a second time, then turned and walked away without a word.

“Why haven’t you drunk your water?” Xu Sui asked, noticing Lin Qianqian struggling with the camera and tripod. She took the bottle from her.

“My hands are sweaty. I couldn’t open it,” Lin Qianqian replied honestly.

“You should have said something! Don’t worry, we don’t have a strict hierarchy here. No need for formalities. We’re colleagues at work, friends after hours,” Xu Sui reassured her, opening the bottle.

Lu Yin had already reached the studio door, unlocking it with a key and leaning against the doorframe, watching them.

Lin Qianqian took the open bottle, placed it on a windowsill without drinking, and entered the studio to continue filming.

She avoided looking at Lu Yin, but felt a burning gaze on her back.

“Here, and take a few shots over there,” Xu Sui instructed. “The more footage we have, the better.”

Lin Qianqian obeyed, her heart pounding with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation.

Lu Yin watched their interaction, her expression unreadable.

The night was dark, but the studio lights were bright, illuminating the figures within.

She heard a mocking voice in her head—

Lu Yin, what are you afraid of?