Category: Immature Confession Day gl

Chapter 11

A young woman with a name tag helped Lin Qianqian with the onboarding process. Lin Qianqian heard the receptionist call her “Sister,” so she politely followed suit, even though she didn’t know the woman’s name.

After receiving her access card and completing facial recognition, she was given an employee handbook to review at her assigned workstation.

Surrounded by women who greeted her warmly, Lin Qianqian quickly realized that almost everyone around her was an intern, there for the work experience and then gone.

No wonder the turnover rate was so high. Lin Qianqian wasn’t optimistic about her job prospects.

Lunch break was at noon. By the time she finished onboarding and settled in, it was almost eleven. After a bit of chatting, the workstations around her emptied out.

Lin Qianqian wasn’t one to get hungry easily, especially after a relaxing morning and a full breakfast.

She scrolled through her phone.

Ming Yao, knowing she had started the job, messaged her to ask how it was going, adding that she had already spoken to the boss. Lin Qianqian froze for a second, then sent Ming Yao a barrage of angry emojis.

She couldn’t have the boss think they were close on her first day!

As expected, she was called into the boss’s office that afternoon.

The boss, Xu Sui, seemed about her age. She chatted with Lin Qianqian about their previous encounters through Ming Yao and reassured her that the work wasn’t too demanding.

Even without prior work experience, Lin Qianqian had encountered various personalities during her years abroad. It seemed the boss saw her as a connection to Ming Yao, or perhaps it was just polite small talk.

She didn’t dwell on it. So far, her impression of the company was positive.

Her task for the afternoon was to continue reading the employee handbook. She asked her supervisor for further instructions, but the supervisor said there wasn’t anything else for now and proceeded to chat with friends on WeChat.

Shortly after, Lin Qianqian filled out a form for afternoon tea, and the office buzzed with excitement.

She finally understood the high turnover rate. First, most of the employees were interns who left after a month or two. Second, the small company struggled to attract experienced employees. Recent graduates quickly realized the lack of career advancement opportunities and left for better prospects.

Those who stayed were either financially secure and looking to kill time or, like Lin Qianqian, lacked ambition, content with a relaxed work environment and a paycheck that covered their expenses.

Whenever the company had a filming project, Xu Sui personally oversaw it. The most demanding task was sifting through gigabytes of footage and editing it for the company’s social media accounts.

Although shy at first, Lin Qianqian thrived in comfortable environments and quickly integrated into the workplace.

Within a day, she had found a lunch buddy, someone whose conversations revolved around the crucial question, “What are we eating?” Lin Qianqian believed that following such a person guaranteed good food and avoided culinary disasters.

Ten minutes before closing time, the office erupted in mock outrage. “Who hasn’t turned off their computer yet? Secretly working overtime, are we?”

“Whoever’s working late, I’m reporting them to the boss!”

They peeked at the boss’s office. The lights were already off.

Lin Qianqian had been smiling all day, incredibly satisfied with her new job.

It exceeded her initial expectations.

But she hid her enthusiasm when she got home. She couldn’t let Lu Yin see how much she enjoyed the job, or she might be encouraged to move out sooner.

Lu Yin came home late that night. Lin Qianqian was slumped over the table, staring dejectedly at an empty instant noodle container, even the broth consumed.

“Not happy with the job?” Lu Yin asked, hanging her jacket on the back of a chair.

Lin Qianqian nodded glumly, watching Lu Yin wash her hands and dry them with a paper towel. “By the way, is your institution hiring…?”

Just as she was about to assume Lu Yin wouldn’t answer, Lu Yin spoke. “Classes are starting soon. We’re looking for teaching assistants. Must have art experience and be available to start immediately.”

“What do you think of me?” Lin Qianqian blinked, trying to appear competent.

“Do you have a portfolio?” Lu Yin played along.

Lin Qianqian hesitated. “A portfolio…well…”

“Any prior experience as a teaching assistant?”

“Teaching assistant experience…”

“Where did you intern? For how long? What were your responsibilities?”

Lin Qianqian couldn’t answer a single question. Clutching the empty noodle container, she declared, “I refuse to work at your institution.”

Why this sudden interrogation?

The interviewers and bosses she had met had all been friendly and approachable, only to reject her later with a polite but impersonal message.

And Lu Yin knew she didn’t have any of the required qualifications. Why bother asking?

“You can always practice,” Lu Yin said, preparing chrysanthemum tea. “For example, practicing how to write more neatly on orange peels.”

Lin Qianqian was speechless, glaring at Lu Yin.

She should perform a midnight ritual at Lu Yin’s bedside, chanting, “Which demon has possessed my sister? Return my kind and gentle sister!”

She remembered the bag of oranges. They were too sour for her liking, and she hadn’t eaten many. Looking in the bag, she noticed it was significantly lighter.

She had only eaten one segment that morning. It was obvious who had eaten the rest.

“You ate my oranges,” Lin Qianqian finally found something to retort. “A lot of them.”

“Is there a problem?” Lu Yin looked at her, her expression questioning the significance of this revelation.

Lin Qianqian’s intended words caught in her throat. “…But they’re so sour.”

“Sour is good.”

“Really?” Lin Qianqian peeled another orange. The sourness made her teeth ache, but she swallowed it with a forced smile. “See? I knew you loved sour things. I bought these especially for you.”

She broke the orange in half and offered a segment to Lu Yin. “Here, Sister.”

She stared at Lu Yin’s lips, hoping she would open her mouth.

Lu Yin took the orange and ate it. “Thank you.”

Lin Qianqian wiped her hands on her pants, tied up the bag of oranges, and put it away.

She sat down, picked up the empty noodle container, and pretended to drink the remaining broth, her actions as foolish and pathetic as her earlier attempt to feed Lu Yin.

Chapter 10

Lin Qianqian took some time to research the media company and found it met her minimal requirements.

She submitted her resume in the morning. The HR(Human Resources) department asked a few basic questions and then invited her for an interview that afternoon. They offered her the job on the spot and asked if she could start immediately.

For a moment, Lin Qianqian wondered if it was a scam, but she agreed to start the next day.

On her way home, she was still in disbelief. Finding a job had been surprisingly easy. She even wondered if she would last half a day before running away.

The company seemed small, with only a dozen or so employees, half of whom appeared to be new hires.

Lu Yin was looking at the resume Lin Qianqian had left on the table.

Several companies had required printed resumes, and Lin Qianqian had run out, so she had printed a few more copies. She took one to the interview and left the rest on the table.

She quickly snatched them up.

“How did the interview go?” Lu Yin asked.

Lin Qianqian didn’t think it was genuine concern, more like an inquiry about her moving timeline.

“Not great,” she replied vaguely. “I’ll see.”

Lu Yin didn’t press further, returning her attention to the video on her iPad.

Lin Qianqian hung her bag on the coat rack in her room. Noticing the unfolded bedsheet at the foot of her bed, she went back out to thank Lu Yin.

Lu Yin looked up, her expression questioning.

“Thank you for washing my bedsheet and pillowcase.”

Lu Yin’s gaze returned to her iPad without a word.

“Sister, you worked hard,” Lin Qianqian added, thinking she should research how to be a better sycophant. She wasn’t sure if Lu Yin would respond to such blatant flattery.

Several companies had required printed resumes, and after running out, Lin Qianqian had printed a few more. She’d taken one to the interview and left the rest on the table. She quickly snatched them up.

“How did the interview go?” Lu Yin asked.

Lin Qianqian didn’t think it was genuine concern, more an inquiry about her moving timeline.

“Not great,” she replied vaguely. “I’ll see.”

Lu Yin didn’t press further, returning her attention to the video on her iPad.

Lin Qianqian hung her bag in her room. Noticing the unfolded bedsheet, she went back out to thank Lu Yin.

Lu Yin looked up, her expression questioning.

“Thank you for washing my bedsheet and pillowcase.”

Lu Yin’s gaze returned to her iPad without a word.

“Sister, you worked hard,” Lin Qianqian added, thinking she should research how to be a better sycophant. She wasn’t sure if Lu Yin would fall for such blatant flattery.

She stared at Lu Yin, hoping for a dramatic, “It wasn’t hard, just my sad fate,” in response.

But Lu Yin clearly wasn’t amused by such tired tropes.

Lin Qianqian was dying to know what Lu Yin was watching, but she couldn’t be too obvious, so she inched closer.

Lu Yin noticed her maneuvering and looked up. “Are you hungry?”

“A little,” Lin Qianqian realized her stomach was indeed empty. The interview had made her forget about eating.

Progress! Lu Yin had gone from ignoring her to asking about her meals.

Lu Yin answered a call, speaking briefly, then looked at Lin Qianqian with a complicated expression.

“What…?” Lin Qianqian looked around, frozen in place.

“Did you find a job?”

“That call…” Lin Qianqian pointed at Lu Yin’s phone, surprised. “Was that…?”

“They called you three times and then called your emergency contact,” Lu Yin stood up and walked towards the kitchen. “I told you, I’m only free for a short while.”

“My phone was on silent and charging in my room,” Lin Qianqian said, glancing at the time. It was almost the end of the workday.

Hadn’t everything been settled at the interview?

Why call now?

She unplugged her phone, ignoring the three missed calls. Instead of calling back, she asked Lu Yin, “What did they say?”

“Nothing much. They want you to start tomorrow morning.”

Lu Yin knew she was lying, and a pang of guilt hit Lin Qianqian. “Are you going to kick me out now?”

She had only been here for less than two weeks and hadn’t even figured out Lu Yin’s attitude towards her.

If she left now, they might never speak again. She didn’t have the courage to initiate contact again.

“Let’s see how you adjust to the new job,” Lu Yin said, chopping vegetables. “My classes start soon, and I won’t have time to help you move.”

Relieved, Lin Qianqian smiled, turning on the faucet and washing the vegetables. “What are we having for dinner?”

“What do you want?” Lu Yin asked. “While I still have time.”

“Anything you make. I love everything you cook,” Lin Qianqian continued her flattery, noticing Lu Yin seemed more tolerant of her antics.

But she still couldn’t tell if it was a resurgence of their past closeness or simply the result of two weeks of forced cohabitation.

Lu Yin made cold noodles.

It had been Lin Qianqian’s favorite summer dish as a child. When the heat made hot meals unbearable, Lu Yin would make her cold noodles.

Boiled noodles rinsed in cold water until firm, mixed with chopped lettuce, shredded cucumber, diced sausage, and a drizzle of hot sesame oil, the sauce perfectly blended. Delicious.

Lin Qianqian could eat two bowls as a child, and apparently, she still could.

When Lu Yin placed the second bowl in front of her, Lin Qianqian’s eyes crinkled with happiness.

The more glimpses of the past she saw, the closer she felt to Lu Yin.

“Thank you, Sister,” she said again.

Lu Yin paused, her chopsticks hovering over her bowl. “You’re welcome.”

Hearing Lu Yin finally acknowledge her as “Sister,” Lin Qianqian repeated, “Thank you, Sister.”

Lu Yin continued eating her noodles in silence.

Knowing when to stop, Lin Qianqian finished her second bowl, washed the dishes, took a shower, and went to bed.

That night, she pondered how to prolong her stay. She had a job now, which meant her time here was limited.

She didn’t know what Lu Yin meant by “adjusting to the new job.” She only knew she had a one-month probationary period.

She might be fired after a month, or she might quit before then.

The scent on the pillow had faded, replaced by the fragrance of her own shampoo.

It wasn’t as comforting as it had been in the beginning.

Lin Qianqian turned over, worried.

The next morning, dressed in a white t-shirt and black pants, her hair in a low ponytail, Lin Qianqian rushed through her morning routine. By the time she got to the dining table, breakfast was cold.

She glanced nervously at Lu Yin, stuffed a bun in her mouth, grabbed the soy milk, and headed for the door.

Lu Yin followed her out, standing silently beside her as they waited for the elevator.

Lin Qianqian looked at the woman next to her. She was wearing a white shirt tucked into jeans, her figure tall and elegant.

If Lin Qianqian hadn’t known Lu Yin was an artist, she would have assumed she was a dancer or a model.

But looking at her long, slender fingers, the prominent knuckles, it wasn’t surprising she was a painter.

“Where are you going?” Lin Qianqian asked, taking a bite of the bun and quickening her pace.

She didn’t want to eat breakfast in a taxi. It felt awkward, as if people were staring.

“Running an errand.”

“Are we going the same way?” Lin Qianqian’s eyes lit up, giving Lu Yin her company’s address.

Lu Yin didn’t reply.

“We’re definitely going the same way,” Lin Qianqian grinned. The elevator was still on a higher floor. She seized the opportunity. “Sister, please give me a ride! I’ll grab another bun!”

Returning with two more buns, Lin Qianqian praised the free breakfast, settling comfortably into Lu Yin’s car in the parking garage. She ate slowly now, savoring each bite.

Lu Yin entered the address and started driving.

Lin Qianqian’s work started at ten, avoiding the usual rush hour traffic.

She didn’t ask where Lu Yin was going. Getting a free ride was a victory in itself.

Being shameless had its perks: free food, free lodging, free rides.

She hadn’t bought anything online recently. In fact, she hadn’t spent even a hundred yuan. She felt a surge of confidence about her savings.

The car stopped in front of the building. Lin Qianqian, full and satisfied, got out and waved at Lu Yin.

“Bye, Sister! See you tonight!” Lin Qianqian watched the car drive away.

Lu Yin nodded, turning the car around and heading home.

She sent the location to her WeChat file transfer assistant and saved it.

Chapter 9

Lin Qianqian examined her own behavior.

Was she sober?

She must have been, to have found her way home in her drunken state.

But perhaps not entirely, considering she had pathetically reached out for the hand of the very sister she had vowed never to see again after their explosive argument four years ago.

Lin Qianqian stared at Lu Yin, speechless, retracting her hand.

“Can I have another glass of water?” Lin Qianqian held up a finger. Lu Yin nodded and went to pour it.

Lin Qianqian scrambled off the sofa and dashed to her room, fumbling with the doorknob before finally getting inside.

She burrowed under the covers, her heart pounding, until she heard footsteps approaching—

Lu Yin placed the water on her nightstand.

“Why are you just walking into my room?” Lin Qianqian burrowed deeper, her voice muffled.

“You wanted water, didn’t you? And the door was unlocked.”

“Just leave it there. I’ll drink it later.”

“It’s warm water. It’ll get cold.”

“I like cold water.”

“Didn’t you just say your stomach hurt?”

Lin Qianqian had never known Lu Yin to be so nagging. “Can you stop chanting the sutras?”

“If your stomach hurts, take medicine. If you’re thirsty, drink water. I don’t have time to take you to the hospital again.”

Hearing the door close, Lin Qianqian sat up. So, Lu Yin was just worried about being bothered.

She lost her appetite for water. She wanted to cuddle a pillow but remembered her dirty pillowcase in the laundry basket in the bathroom.

After a moment, she grabbed her pajamas and headed to the bathroom.

The lights were still on in the living room, but Lu Yin was gone.

The laundry basket was empty. Lin Qianqian checked the balcony. The pillowcase and bedsheet were clean and neatly hung on the drying rack, a few of Lu Yin’s clothes tucked in the corner.

The hot shower soothed her tired muscles.

She filled the bathtub, anticipating a relaxing soak.

She hadn’t drunk that much, just a mix of beer and hard liquor, which, combined with the speed at which she consumed them, had upset her stomach. A few glasses of warm water and several trips to the bathroom had mostly resolved the issue. Now, she was just exhausted.

Lin Qianqian sank into the tub, playing with the bubbles, humming a tune as she lathered herself, blowing bubbles through her fingers.

When Lu Yin entered, she was startled awake, realizing she had fallen asleep in the tub. The massage jets had been too relaxing.

Lu Yin had woken her up.

She looked up at Lu Yin’s grim expression and waved awkwardly. “Good night?”

Realizing it was almost dawn, she corrected herself. “Good morning, Sister.”

Lu Yin wondered how someone so clueless had survived four years abroad alone. Perhaps someone had been taking care of her.

The thought soured her mood.

“I didn’t sleep long, did I?” Lin Qianqian glanced at the time. It was just past five. She had been in the bathroom for less than an hour.

She tried to get out of the tub but sat back down.

Lin Qianqian crossed her arms over her chest. “Could you hand me my clothes?”

Lu Yin placed them on a nearby chair and left.

Lin Qianqian quickly dried herself, thinking about their messed-up sleep schedules.

She didn’t sleep at night and didn’t wake up during the day.

Lu Yin didn’t sleep at night, and apparently not during the day either.

To repay Lu Yin for rescuing her from the bathtub and doing her laundry, Lin Qianqian looked up a large supermarket, planning a shopping trip—

Mainly as an excuse to spend time alone with Lu Yin.

Lin Qianqian sat in the passenger seat, excitedly fastening her seatbelt and opening the navigation app.

Lu Yin, seeing her with the phone, didn’t bother with her own navigation, following Lin Qianqian’s directions.

“This is complicated. So many twists and turns,” Lin Qianqian frowned at the map on her phone, then at the road ahead. “Turn right?”

Lu Yin glanced at her. “Are you asking me?”

Her daily routine was simple: home and the institution. She had few friends and rarely went out.

On her days off, she stayed in the loft, working quietly.

Lin Qianqian pursed her lips. “Yes, turn right.”

Lu Yin turned right.

—”Recalculating route,” the navigation app announced.

They hadn’t driven even a few hundred meters.

Lin Qianqian paused awkwardly. “So it can talk. It was mute before…”

She stared at the map, trying to figure out where they could make a U-turn, but the road seemed endless, and one-way.

After fifteen minutes, Lu Yin finally turned a corner. The surroundings were unfamiliar. She remained silent.

“Keep going right…” Lin Qianqian’s voice lacked conviction. Twenty minutes later, they passed by their apartment complex.

She was speechless.

Lu Yin pulled over, entered the destination into her iPad, and started driving again.

Lin Qianqian didn’t dare offer further directions. How could she, a person who got lost even with a map, have the audacity to navigate?

She gripped the seatbelt, glancing at the navigation app, then at Lu Yin’s profile.

Lu Yin’s expression was neutral, her usual faint smile absent. She seemed calm, but unapproachable.

Lin Qianqian couldn’t understand how the gentle and kind woman she knew had become so different. In the week since their reunion, she had only glimpsed Lu Yin’s softer side at the hospital.

Even though Lin Qianqian had been the one with food poisoning, Lu Yin had seemed worse off, falling asleep against the wall, her face bare except for a touch of light lipstick, as if applied solely to add a bit of color.

She had assumed Lu Yin was angry, but later realized Lu Yin had simply been unwell.

But she didn’t dare ask, knowing Lu Yin wouldn’t answer.

She should have hugged her that day at the hospital, even with the rash on her face.

“Are we there yet?” Lin Qianqian asked.

“Almost,” Lu Yin replied.

“…Oh.”

Lin Qianqian looked at her phone. The pictures she usually enjoyed seemed dull and uninteresting.

She wanted to look at pictures of Lu Yin, but they didn’t have any together. She hadn’t even saved any photos of Lu Yin.

She had naively assumed they would always be together. What good were photos compared to the real thing?

But their separation had been swift and unexpected. Fate didn’t offer anyone the chance to prepare.

“Are we there yet?” she asked again after seven or eight minutes.

“Almost,” Lu Yin repeated.

“…Oh.”

Five minutes later, Lin Qianqian asked, “Are we there yet?”

Before Lu Yin could answer, she added, “Almost, right?”

Lu Yin pressed her lips together, silently checking the navigation.

“Sister, do you remember that story you used to tell me? The Boy Who Cried Wolf?”

“Sister.”

“Sister?”

“Sister!”

Lu Yin replied calmly, “What?”

“Why are you ignoring me?” Lin Qianqian pouted.

She had called Lu Yin “Sister” countless times this week, and not once had Lu Yin acknowledged it.

How much did Lu Yin hate her now?

Even if they weren’t blood-related.

“If I get distracted while driving, we’ll pass by our apartment complex for the third time.”

“…”

The arduous journey finally ended. Lin Qianqian felt slightly annoyed for having carried the entire conversation herself.

But then she remembered she was treating today, covering all expenses, and immediately straightened up.

She grabbed a shopping cart, which Lu Yin wordlessly took from her and began pushing.

“Want some candied orange peel? Sweet and sour?” Lin Qianqian asked, casually looping her arm through Lu Yin’s.

Lu Yin let her, watching as she filled the cart with snacks, muttering, “I like this one,” “Sister loves this,” “We both loved this as kids! I thought they stopped making it! Let’s get a few bags!”

Lin Qianqian’s habits were all from their childhood. She hadn’t changed. But Lu Yin hadn’t bought these snacks in years.

Had she changed? She wasn’t sure.

She suddenly remembered the orange-flavored lollipop Lin Qianqian had given her after arriving. She had taken a few licks and then offered it to Lu Yin.

It had been sour, not quite the same as she remembered.

She hadn’t really liked it.

Perhaps she had only enjoyed sour things before because the time spent with Lin Qianqian had always been sweet, and they had been practically inseparable, their home a world of just the two of them.

The cart was almost full, and they hadn’t even finished browsing the snack aisle.

Lu Yin finally spoke. “Don’t get too much. You won’t be able to finish it all.”

Lin Qianqian put a bag of snacks back on the shelf, her smile faltering. “I can finish it!”

She had carefully chosen all their favorite snacks, and now Lu Yin was saying things she didn’t want to hear.

“You sound like a typical Asian parent, always saying things I don’t want to hear,” Lin Qianqian called out, unwilling to keep her frustration bottled up.

“That’s why you need to find a job quickly. Then no one will nag you,” Lu Yin said, heading towards the produce and seafood sections, calmly selecting ingredients for cooking, a stark contrast to Lin Qianqian’s restlessness.

That shut Lin Qianqian up. She finally understood.

Lu Yin truly disliked her now. Despised her, even.

Then why bother picking her up from the airport? She could have left her to fend for herself.

Lin Qianqian sulked for twenty minutes. At the checkout, she joined Lu Yin, but before she could open her payment app, Lu Yin’s phone beeped.

The sting of Lu Yin’s words, combined with her own broken promises, filled Lin Qianqian with a mix of anger and resentment, but she couldn’t bring herself to lash out.

On the drive home, Lin Qianqian remained silent—

Silence is my best defense.

Lu Yin was even more silent.

As things seemed to be heading in a familiar direction, she knew she had to make a different choice.

She should make Lin Qianqian hate her, be cruel and mean, and then disappear.

That way, she could enjoy some peace, numbed by medication.

It wasn’t a long-term solution, but it was better than repeating the past. She didn’t have the energy to go through it again, to lose herself again.

Spending money on medication brought restful sleep and a blank mind.

Spending money on Lin Qianqian only served as a constant reminder that she was a sinner who didn’t deserve to live.

At first, she had only one passion: painting. Then she gained a sister.

And then, both were cruelly taken from her.

If only she could live without guilt, without shame. How wonderful that would be.

Chapter 8

The woman on the screen that day had been beautiful and captivating.

Lin Qianqian replayed the scene in her mind, the woman on Lu Yin’s computer, their friendly video chat, the neatly arranged fruit platter, the steaming cup of coffee.

She was getting impatient. Why wouldn’t Lu Yin sit down with her for a proper conversation, or even a friendly romp in bed? She still remembered all of Lu Yin’s preferences, the mole on her collarbone that she used to nibble on, leaving it encircled by a ring of teeth marks. If Lu Yin didn’t stop being so distant, she would bite her hard as payback.

Lin Qianqian seethed with frustration.

She should have kissed Lu Yin full on the mouth under the guise of a cheek kiss at the airport. And if Lu Yin got angry, she could have wiped Lu Yin’s mouth, feigning innocence, and blaming it on lingering habits from abroad.

The last time they had been intimate… Lin Qianqian paused, the memory surfacing. She had been kicked out of Lu Yin’s room that night.

The unpleasantness of the recollection made her stop her fantasy abruptly.

She was reaching her limit. Why wouldn’t Lu Yin sit down with her for a proper conversation, or even a friendly romp in bed? She vividly remembered all of Lu Yin’s preferences, the mole on her collarbone that she used to nibble on, leaving it encircled by a ring of teeth marks. If Lu Yin didn’t stop being so distant, she would bite her hard as payback.

Lin Qianqian fumed.

She should have kissed Lu Yin full on the mouth under the guise of a cheek kiss at the airport. And if Lu Yin got angry, she could have wiped Lu Yin’s mouth, feigning innocence, and blaming it on lingering habits from abroad.

The last time they had been intimate… Lin Qianqian paused, the memory surfacing. She had been kicked out of Lu Yin’s room that night.

The unpleasantness of the recollection made her stop her fantasy abruptly.

She had to step up her game. Otherwise, Lu Yin’s girlfriend might show up with a suitcase any day now, pointing at her and declaring, “I won’t allow another woman in this house! Not even a sister!”

She hadn’t enjoyed the jacuzzi enough, hadn’t had enough free food and lodging. She couldn’t be kicked out.

Unfortunately, Lu Yin had been spending most of her time at the institution lately, and Lin Qianqian hadn’t been able to catch another video call.

What finally broke Lin Qianqian’s obsessive thoughts was the return of her only true friend from abroad, Ming Yao.

They met at a cafe. Lin Qianqian struggled to find the place on the map, surprised that Ming Yao seemed more familiar with the area than she was.

Lin Qianqian was directionally challenged. When she first arrived abroad, the navigation app was her most used. She would sometimes stand right on top of the marked location, unable to find her destination, only to realize, with a frustrated stomp, that it was right in front of her.

“Little Grass! Over here! Lin Grass!” Ming Yao waved at her.

Lin Qianqian, standing outside the cafe window, briefly considered disowning this friend. She walked over nonchalantly. As a waiter passed by, she asked, feigning politeness, “Excuse me, is this seat taken?”

“No, please sit down,” Ming Yao replied with a smile.

As soon as the waiter left, Lin Qianqian’s smile turned into a glare. “I told you not to call me that!”

As Lin Qianqian’s only Chinese friend abroad, Ming Yao had been the unwilling recipient of her drunken emotional outbursts, including a dramatic recitation of her award-winning third-grade essay.

That’s when Ming Yao had suggested, “Why don’t you just change your name to Little Grass? It would make the ‘deer eats grass’ thing even more obvious.”

Lin Qianqian had thought she was crazy.

But she must be a little crazy herself to be such good friends with Ming Yao.

“Okay, okay, I won’t call you that. But Qianqian, I have something to celebrate,” Ming Yao lowered her voice. “My dad had a heart attack a few days ago and is in critical condition in the ICU.”

Lin Qianqian searched her memory. “Didn’t you just post on social media, ‘Happy wedding, Dad! Stay young and live a long life’?”

“Maybe…my blessings didn’t reach him…” Ming Yao chuckled dryly. “I’m already looking for a lawyer.”

Lin Qianqian couldn’t comprehend the thought processes of the wealthy, only offering a supportive, “I’m rooting for you. Sponsor me when you become a rich lady. Artistic performances only, no funny business.”

“But there’s a problem. How do I get rid of my stepmother?” Ming Yao pondered. “I need to get them divorced while my dad is still warm. The first in line for inheritance are the spouse and children, but it has to be just me.”

Lin Qianqian’s mind conjured up images of soap opera drama, and she nodded vaguely.

She wasn’t interested. It wasn’t her problem. She was preoccupied with winning back Lu Yin.

“Where is your stepmother?” Lin Qianqian asked, trying not to appear too dismissive.

“She hasn’t returned to the country. I can’t reach her.”

“Can’t reach her? Why?”

“She took care of all the illegitimate children my dad had outside the marriage, and now she’s gone missing,” Ming Yao sounded genuinely worried. “Do you think she’s planning to take all the inheritance for herself?”

Lin Qianqian’s eyes widened slightly. “Murder is illegal.”

“Of course not! Anything that can be solved with money isn’t a real problem! I just don’t know what she did with them!” Ming Yao’s expression was grim. “I should have stayed in contact with her while we were abroad. She didn’t even come back with my dad…”

“Are you sure you can outsmart her?” Lin Qianqian sometimes thought Ming Yao was a naive rich girl, not particularly bright.

“Of course! Have some faith in me!” Ming Yao puffed out her chest. “Just wait for the good news. When it’s all over, I’ll buy you anything you want.”

“Even an apartment?” Lin Qianqian asked.

“Why don’t you just acknowledge me as your older sister and we’ll split the inheritance fifty-fifty?”

Lin Qianqian scoffed. “I don’t need another sister. I already have one.”

They chatted for a while longer, and then Lin Qianqian noticed several notifications from the job search app on her phone. All rejections.

With her foreign education, finding a job should have been easy.

But she wanted a short commute, no overtime, and a decent boss. The salary wasn’t a major concern, as long as she could cover her basic expenses.

She had lowered her expectations repeatedly, but still couldn’t find anything suitable.

After several unsuccessful interviews, she was starting to despair. Why was the job market so bad?

The sun was brutal, and her skin was sensitive. She dreaded sitting in front of interviewers with a sunburned face.

Even with sunscreen, she could see her skin darkening.

“There’s a new media company looking for copywriters. They’re desperate,” Ming Yao offered.

“No way. I don’t want to work with someone I know. I just want to coast. It would be awkward for both of us if the boss yelled at me.”

Lin Qianqian had forced herself to study hard for four years just to graduate.

Now that she had finally graduated, she wanted to live life on her own terms, as a carefree slacker.

But reality had other plans.

“It’s a startup, less than a year old. I’ve met the owner a few times. She’s a rich girl who started a company to kill time, just like you,” Ming Yao sent her the job posting. “They seem pretty laid-back. Mostly promotional stuff.”

Lin Qianqian scrolled through the company’s articles. “This is all over the place. Food, travel, reviews… There’s no central theme.”

“Seems like it’s based on the owner’s whims. Whatever she’s interested in that week,” Ming Yao said. “I just thought I’d share it with you. No pressure.”

“I’ll think about it,” Lin Qianqian replied.

---

She jolted awake again, her forehead covered in cold sweat.

Lu Yin lay in the darkness, her palms cold.

She had dreamt of the girl beneath her, crying and calling her “Sister…” Her cheeks were flushed, like vibrant roses, a redness that didn’t belong to a young girl, but Lu Yin, seemingly deaf to her pleas, left countless bite marks on her skin.

When the girl cried out again, Lu Yin choked her, silencing her screams and cutting off her breath.

Blood bloomed on the skin, the girl’s cries fading into unconsciousness.

Lu Yin’s eyes stared into the darkness, her throat dry. She steadied her breathing.

Dewdrops on blades of grass, sinking into the earth, unstoppable.

She shouldn’t have brought her back. She had thought she could control herself, at least for a while.

She would provide temporary shelter, endure until Lin Qianqian found a job and moved out, and then endure watching her fall in love with someone else.

But she had overestimated herself.

The girl had invaded her life, and now her dreams.

She had buried the disgusting past, maintaining a facade of normalcy, letting time numb her emotions.

But now, her peaceful life was shattered.

This was a nightmare.

She had to endure, make the girl give up and leave her life again.

She didn’t have the courage to continue, her pride wouldn’t allow it.

Soon, it would be over. Just a little longer.

Lu Yin closed her eyes, repeating the mantra in her mind.

Unable to sleep, she got out of bed, walked through the dark apartment, up the stairs, and into the loft. She retrieved the painting from the locked cabinet and hung it on the empty hook.

Lu Yin stood there, arms crossed, her hand reaching out to caress the painted skin of the girl, just like she had years ago.

But canvas was just canvas. There was no warmth, no give.

She picked up a brush, dipped it in white paint, and painted over the girl’s colorful top.

The girl’s skin became a blank canvas. Lu Yin changed colors, adding a touch of cherry red to the lips, leaving only the blue jeans.

A faint smile touched Lu Yin’s lips. The painting was almost perfect.

Calming herself, she went downstairs.

The nightlight was on in the living room. Lin Qianqian was crouched on the floor, motionless.

Lu Yin approached, smelling alcohol. She poured a glass of water and offered it to Lin Qianqian. “Have you been drinking?”

Lin Qianqian looked up, a silly grin on her face. “My best friend came back, so we met up and had a few drinks.”

The clock on the wall indicated it was almost three in the morning. Lu Yin frowned. “Don’t drink outside, and don’t come home this late.”

“I wanted to drink. Why do you care…” Lin Qianqian mumbled, reaching for the water, but Lu Yin snatched it away, setting it down on the table with a thud.

Lin Qianqian tried to stand but felt dizzy. She remained crouched on the floor.

“I’m your roommate now. You’re my landlord, but you won’t let me pay rent, so I can stay out all night if I want…” Lin Qianqian sighed weakly. “My stomach hurts…”

Lu Yin picked up the glass and held it to her lips.

Lin Qianqian, parched, gulped down the water, finishing it quickly.

As Lu Yin pulled the glass away, Lin Qianqian closed her eyes and grabbed her wrist. “I want more…”

Lu Yin struggled slightly, but Lin Qianqian’s grip was firm. She felt the warmth of the contact against her skin.

“There’s no more. I’ll pour you another glass,” she said calmly.

Lin Qianqian immediately released her wrist.

After three glasses of water, she finally opened her eyes, struggling to stand.

Her mind still hazy, she leaned on Lu Yin, her drunken words slurred. “Help me. I can’t walk straight…”

It was only a few steps, but she clung to Lu Yin, her legs heavy as lead.

Lin Qianqian draped herself on Lu Yin, her breath warm against Lu Yin’s neck and collarbone.

Lu Yin turned her head away, her expression cold, and quickly pulled her to the sofa.

“Why are you avoiding me…” Lin Qianqian lay on the sofa, waving her hand towards Lu Yin, a faint blush still on her cheeks. “Don’t you want to hold my hand…?”

“Sister…” she drawled, her voice coquettish and clingy.

Lu Yin stood over her, looking down. “Lin Qian, are you sober?”

Chapter 7

Lin Qianqian hadn’t understood the concept of an emergency contact before.

When she first moved in with Lin Yun, her father, Qin Shaofeng, worked long hours, leaving early and returning late. Lin Yun, outgoing and sociable, quickly befriended the neighbors and spent her days playing mahjong.

It was always just Lin Qianqian and Lu Yin at home.

Their living situation was decent, certainly better than when she lived with just Lin Yun. They could afford imported groceries, the kind considered exorbitantly expensive online.

When a fishbone got stuck in her throat, it was Lu Yin who helped her dislodge it with vinegar. Afterwards, an itchy rash erupted on her skin, revealing her seafood allergy.

When she called Lin Yun, her mother’s response, punctuated by the clatter of mahjong tiles, was, “Have your sister take you to the hospital!”

Lin Qianqian was fearless. At school, she would grab a chair and defend classmates from bullies, returning home with a bruised face, only to be met with Lu Yin’s gentle care as she applied medicine.

When she tried to guilt Lin Yun into giving her some pocket money so she could secretly thank Lu Yin for buying her treats, her mother would exclaim over the phone, “Do you know how much money I lost today?!”

Knowing Lu Yin was an artist, she tried not to disturb her. Lu Yin would bring a chair and let her sit quietly and watch.

Lin Qianqian would sometimes hand her paints and brushes, and they would spend their time together in comfortable silence.

“Sister, can you draw people?” Lin Qianqian asked curiously.

“I mostly paint landscapes,” Lu Yin replied, taking the clean paintbox from her and wiping it dry with a tissue.

“Can you draw me?” Lin Qianqian made a silly face. “Like this!”

Lu Yin laughed, gently tapping her head with a paintbrush.

It was Lin Qianqian’s first “beating.” As she grew closer to Lu Yin, she began to discover different sides of her personality.

Instead of crying and seeking pity after a fight, she would flex her skinny arms in front of Lu Yin. “Sister! If anyone dares to bully you, I’ll punch them so hard they’ll fly! See my biceps?!”

Lu Yin would lazily pick up a ruler and tap it against her hand. “Lin Qian, you better be as obedient as you were in the beginning.”

Lin Qianqian, unafraid, would stick her bottom out. “Go ahead and hit me!”

Lu Yin would then lightly tap her bottom with the ruler, the force so gentle it was barely noticeable.

Remembering a cheesy novel she had read, Lin Qianqian would puff out her chest and declare haughtily, looking down her nose, “You’re the only person I allow to hit me.”

After Lu Yin consistently took care of her, Lin Qianqian grew accustomed to calling her “Sister,” relying on her for everything. She would call her, beaming, after getting good grades, and cry out to her after failing a test. All her joys and sorrows became intertwined with Lu Yin.

Somewhere along the way, she had confused familial affection with romantic love.

Even after their relationship fractured, the habit remained, etched into her by time.

“It’s cold,” Lu Yin tapped the table, bringing her back to the present.

Lin Qianqian took a sip of the soy milk. It was lukewarm.

Lu Yin was so heartless now, casually erasing their shared memories, refusing to acknowledge the past.

Lin Qianqian finished the cold breakfast in silence, her head bowed.

“Are you full?”

“I don’t eat much,” Lin Qianqian yawned, her eyes watering.

She needed to go back to sleep. She hadn’t slept well last night and felt groggy.

“You used to be able to eat a whole steamer basket of soup dumplings, plus two youtiao, an egg, a bowl of soy milk, and a bowl of black rice porridge.”

Lu Yin’s tone was calm and even, and Lin Qianqian couldn’t tell if she was being sarcastic or genuinely concerned about her smaller appetite.

That particular incident had been after she failed three major subjects and was scolded by Lin Yun. She had sulked in her room for two days, refusing to eat or drink.

Lin Yun hadn’t asked why she failed, only accusing her of being lazy. Lin Qianqian had wanted to protest her mother’s indifference, but ended up hurting herself instead.

Lu Yin had coaxed her out of her room and taken her to breakfast. Lin Qianqian had never eaten so much, her tears mixing with the porridge as she ate, unstoppable even by Lu Yin’s attempts to comfort her.

From the moment she left her room until they returned home after breakfast, it had been just the two of them.

Lu Yin had even bought her a huge box of snacks. When her mood had improved, Lin Qianqian had asked, “If I eat this much every day, will we be able to afford it?”

‘Don’t worry, Sister will take care of you. I can afford it,’ Lu Yin had reassured her.

“I can’t afford to feed myself if I eat that much every meal,” Lin Qianqian stared at her.

She knew Lu Yin remembered everything too.

“Eating too much isn’t good for your stomach,” Lu Yin avoided her gaze, clearing the table and taking the dishes to the kitchen. The sound of running water followed.

Lin Qianqian didn’t press the issue. She had expected that response.

She found the mirror and applied more ointment. Since her clothes had arrived, she hadn’t worn Lu Yin’s pajamas again, only hanging them in the closet. She wore an oversized t-shirt and shorts, her hair tied up in a messy bun.

Lin Qianqian went to the kitchen. Her bun came undone, and the black hair tie fell into the sink just as Lu Yin was cleaning the drain.

“Don’t worry about it,” Lin Qianqian said, but Lu Yin tossed the hair tie into the trash along with the debris.

“Do you have another hair tie?” Lin Qianqian asked.

Lu Yin held out her wrist, revealing an almost identical black hair tie.

Lin Qianqian reached for it, her fingers brushing against Lu Yin’s skin, then paused. “Did you know there’s a saying about wearing a hair tie on your wrist?”

Lu Yin waited for her to elaborate, washing and cutting fruit.

Lin Qianqian didn’t explain, taking the hair tie and tying her hair back into a loose, low ponytail. “I think things are getting a little ambiguous between us.”

Lu Yin continued cutting the fruit, the knife flashing silver in the sunlight.

“Don’t you have work today?” Lin Qianqian asked out of habit.

“I’ve explained this to you multiple times.”

“…Oh,” Lin Qianqian watched her cut apples and cantaloupe. “I bought oranges yesterday, but I haven’t tried one yet.”

Remembering the half-eaten orange on the table, she padded over in her slippers, grabbed it, and stuffed it into her mouth, tossing the peel with its embarrassing message into the trash.

The juice exploded in her mouth, the sourness making her face contort. Lu Yin had given her half earlier, either to make her suffer the sour taste or to remind her of her foolish apology.

Either way, it hadn’t improved her mood.

When Lu Yin returned to the living room with the fruit platter, Lin Qianqian had already retreated to her room for a nap.

Lu Yin opened her laptop and replied to a few messages. A video call came in.

A mature woman appeared on the screen, wearing a white shirt unbuttoned to reveal a glimpse of her figure, her appearance alluring and captivating.

“Good morning, Teacher Lu.”

“Dr. Zhong,” Lu Yin replied with a smile.

Zhong Shiwu was a charismatic woman, at least in Lu Yin’s experience.

She treated everyone like a child, her polite tone almost condescending. For example, she insisted on calling Lu Yin “Teacher Lu” despite repeated corrections. Eventually, Lu Yin had given up.

“I heard from Yu Miao that you haven’t been doing well,” Zhong Shiwu said, touching her forehead. “My fault. I should have come back sooner, but I was delayed.”

“Congratulations on your wedding,” Lu Yin said.

“Thank you,” Zhong Shiwu’s smile was unreadable. “I told you a long time ago, medication can’t suppress human nature forever.”

“Your medication has been very helpful.”

“Taking pills to force yourself to sleep…aren’t you afraid of shutting down completely one day?” Zhong Shiwu chuckled. “We need to find the root of the problem and address it. Frankly, I’m not optimistic about your situation.”

“Do I look that bad?” Lu Yin asked.

“Are you putting on a brave face for me?” Zhong Shiwu’s laughter grew louder. “It won’t be long before you come begging for more pills, but I won’t indulge you this time.”

Lu Yin was about to reply when she heard the bedroom door open.

She looked up to see a sleepy Lin Qianqian emerge, clutching a pillow. She blinked blearily, holding up the bloodstained pillow. “Sister, I think my period actually started…”

Lu Yin glanced apologetically at the screen and went to help the still-half-asleep Lin Qianqian change the sheets.

Lin Qianqian’s mind was foggy, still clouded by sleep. She helped gather the bedding and stood quietly in the living room, waiting.

She heard the clinking of a cup against a table from the laptop and glanced towards the screen, then walked closer.

Zhong Shiwu saw her and waved. “Hello.”

Lin Qianqian waved back politely. “Hello.”

“You’re Lu Yin’s sister, right?”

Lin Qianqian nodded.

“It’s good to see you.”

Lin Qianqian’s mind cleared a little. She had never met this woman before.

She would have expected “It’s nice to meet you,” but the word “see” implied prior knowledge.

She was a beautiful woman.

Lin Qianqian felt a pang of unease, spearing a piece of apple with a toothpick and chewing on it.

Zhong Shiwu saw right through her but didn’t reveal her identity.

Lu Yin finished changing the sheets and led Lin Qianqian back to bed. After watching her fall back asleep, she returned to the laptop.

“The root, I’ve seen the root of your problem,” Zhong Shiwu said bluntly. “You’re losing control.”

“I have some medication left. It should last until I see you.”

“I’ll say this again. I won’t enable you this time. I’m a psychiatrist. My job is to help patients resolve their psychological issues, not rely on medication to function.”

Lu Yin maintained her smile. “I’ll manage until we meet.”

“One’s endurance is limited. Think about what you might do.”

“Once she finds a job, I’ll help her find a new place.”

“If you truly disliked her, disliked her being here, you would have ignored her messages, not picked her up from the airport, not brought her home, not fed her, not housed her, and certainly not changed her bloodstained sheets and pillowcases without complaint,” Zhong Shiwu paused, then added, “Oh…and you wouldn’t be helping her find an apartment, though I doubt you’ll actually let her go. If it comes to that, you’ll secretly subsidize her expensive rent. I know the cost of living there is high, and you wouldn’t want her living in a bad place, or with roommates.”

“You have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life. And you’re attractive enough to find a partner easily.”

“I’m not interested in that right now,” Lu Yin dismissed the suggestion.

“Is it that you don’t want to, or that you’re afraid to? You know I’m not talking about just anyone.”

Lu Yin’s practiced smile faded, replaced by indifference, then nothing at all.

She didn’t want to lose control. She didn’t trust herself. If things escalated, her carefully constructed defenses would crumble.

“Teacher Lu, I don’t like it when patients hide their thoughts. It’s not a good sign. But don’t worry, you’re too easy to read,” Zhong Shiwu’s face lit up with the satisfaction of being right. “You’re much freer now than you were a few years ago, aren’t you?”

Lu Yin looked down. “It’s not something to be proud of.”

She didn’t want to repeat the past, but seeing Lin Qianqian’s messages, she couldn’t resist her approach.

“Who? Who told you that?” Zhong Shiwu sounded ready to confront the culprit. “I think I’ve only heard you say that.”

She yawned, glancing at her empty coffee cup. “Repressing yourself for too long can be damaging.”

Lu Yin checked the time. It was almost ten in the morning, almost ten at night for Zhong Shiwu.

“Get some rest, Doctor Zhong. I’ll handle it.”

She was already damaged, like a rotten apple, its exterior smooth and shiny, the decay hidden within, only the lingering fragrance masking the truth.

Her insides were blackened and putrid, emitting a stench she could barely tolerate herself.

Zhong Shiwu’s expression turned serious. “When the water starts seeping in, you should clear the mud, not build higher walls. They’ll only collapse on you.”

The woman’s face disappeared from the screen. Lu Yin’s posture slumped.

She kicked off her shoes, put her feet up on the sofa, hugged her knees, and looked towards the closed bedroom door.

Lin Qianqian was thriving, like weeds after a fire, needing only a spark to reignite and spread.

While a lonely deer, unable to integrate into the herd, should have frozen to death in the snow four years ago.

Chapter 6

Half-eaten crawfish and two beer bottles sat on the table.

Lu Yin tidied up briefly before heading out.

“You’re leaving already?” Lin Qianqian called out, swinging her legs, her gaze darting around. The spicy crawfish scent lingered, making the rash on her face itch. She scratched it involuntarily.

“I’m going to buy some allergy medicine,” Lu Yin noticed her scratching, retrieved a mirror from a drawer, and handed it to her. “Don’t scratch. Apply the ointment.”

“But I can’t help it,” Lin Qianqian looked at her reflection with dismay, touching her face gingerly.

“Serves you right. You’re allergic and you still ate seafood,” Lu Yin muttered, picking up the trash and leaving.

Lin Qianqian’s eyes lit up. Lu Yin had actually shown some irritation, even snapping at her.

Progress!

Lin Qianqian dutifully lined the trash can, rummaged through the drawers for a new pack of cotton swabs, and applied the ointment with a mournful expression.

“Please heal quickly… How am I supposed to seduce Lu Yin with a face like this…” she mumbled. “I’m running out of time…”

Lu Yin returned quickly, placing allergy medicine on the coffee table before leaving for the institution again.

Lin Qianqian examined the medicine. The packaging was familiar.

As a child, her lack of self-control had led to frequent seafood indulgences despite her allergy. Lu Yin had taken her to the hospital several times, and she knew this particular brand of allergy medicine all too well.

She had learned to control her cravings as she grew older, but the medicine remained a household staple.

After applying the ointment, Lin Qianqian put on a mask and went out to buy food.

There was indeed a street food market downstairs, but its proximity to the subway station meant higher prices.

She ate a bowl of noodles at a random restaurant and bought some oranges on her way back.

No particular reason, except Lu Yin liked sour things.

Her international shipment arrived two days after her return, delivered to her door.

Lin Qianqian was picking out the largest, prettiest, and smoothest orange, writing three words on its peel with a black marker—

I’m sorry.

She wrestled a large sack and two boxes into the apartment, then opened them with a knife and began unpacking.

She had too many clothes. She was all about fun and enjoyment. While others saved a portion of their income each month, she spent a fixed amount on leisure and entertainment.

She stuffed vacuum-sealed bags of clothes into the bottom of the closet, then remembered her unpacked suitcase in the corner.

Inside was a reindeer plushie she had bought last Christmas.

She had intended to give it to Lu Yin, but had ended up cuddling it to sleep that night. It probably still bore the stains of her dried drool and tears.

She retrieved the plushie, dusted it off, and placed it on the coffee table, surrounded by unpacked clothes.

By the time she finished unpacking, it was completely dark. As she was about to throw the unwanted items into the sack, Lu Yin returned, taking in the mess.

“My luggage arrived! I’ll clean it up right away!” Lin Qianqian quickened her pace, stacking the boxes and dragging the sack towards the door.

When she returned, she saw Lu Yin holding the reindeer plushie, looking at it before setting it down.

“I bought it for Christmas,” Lin Qianqian explained defensively, hiding the real reason. “My friends and I bought them together. They had Santa, reindeer, and even a whole sleigh set. The reindeer was the only one left when I went to choose.”

She left out the rest. Abroad, she was always the most enthusiastic about Christmas. While others looked forward to Santa’s gifts, she always looked forward to the reindeer pulling the sleigh.

Because only during that time could she openly embrace everything related to Lu Yin.

Light-up reindeer antlers, reindeer plushies, and even a rewritten Christmas story where the reindeer kicked Santa and pulled a sleigh full of grass instead of presents.

Lu Yin nodded, showing no particular reaction.

Lin Qianqian finished cleaning up the scattered trash and watched Lu Yin go to her room, retrieve her pajamas, and head to the bathroom.

She picked up the orange, rubbed the words off with her thumb, leaving a black smudge.

The marker wouldn’t do. She needed paint.

But she couldn’t touch Lu Yin’s things. She sent Lu Yin a message.

Moments later, the water stopped running in the bathroom.

The next second, she received a reply: Okay.

She was surprised. Lu Yin used to ignore her phone for hours. Now, she replied instantly, even while showering.

But that wasn’t important right now.

Clutching the orange, she dashed up to the loft.

The paints were all unopened, with quantities marked on the boxes. Lin Qianqian didn’t touch them, looking for something else.

The paintbox and brushes were clean. She couldn’t find what she needed.

The low ceiling of the loft felt oppressive. She sat down impatiently, picking up a charcoal sketch from the rug.

She glanced at it, then her gaze drifted upwards to the empty wall.

She stared at it for a moment, then walked closer, noticing a hook meant for hanging a picture frame.

But the wall was bare.

She looked around, comparing the sizes of the easels and frames, trying to find something that would fit the hook.

As she pondered, footsteps approached from behind.

“Did you find it?”

Lin Qianqian pocketed the orange and turned to face Lu Yin. “They’re all unopened, and the quantities are marked. I didn’t know if I could use them.”

“You can use anything. I don’t really keep track,” Lu Yin bent down and rummaged through a box. “What color do you need?”

“Black. Black is fine,” Lin Qianqian replied, immediately receiving a small paintbox and a new brush. “Do you have a thinner brush?”

Lu Yin found her a thinner one.

“…Thank you,” Lin Qianqian turned back to the wall, pointing at the hook. “Was there a painting here before?”

Lu Yin glanced at the hook, her voice flat. “There was a painting. I took it down, but left the hook.”

“Did you paint it?” Lin Qianqian asked.

Lu Yin stared at her. “Yes.”

Lin Qianqian felt a shiver down her spine, despite Lu Yin’s calm and neutral expression.

She was simply wearing pajamas, her hair half-dry, her demeanor almost gentle.

“Then why did you take it down?” Lin Qianqian pressed, but she saw a flicker of refusal in Lu Yin’s eyes. “Sorry, that was nosy.”

“I put it away. I might hang a new one, but I’ve been busy lately, so I haven’t had time to paint,” Lu Yin explained before turning and heading downstairs.

Lin Qianqian touched the hook again, then followed, clutching the paint and brush.

***

In the bathroom, Lin Qianqian spat out toothpaste, replaying the scene in the loft.

It had been strange, but she couldn’t pinpoint why.

After a moment’s thought, she attributed it to Lu Yin’s attitude.

The cold and distant treatment made her suspicious.

She stared at her reflection. The IV and ointment had worked quickly, and the rash had faded considerably, leaving only faint red marks.

Her friends often told her, “If I looked like you, I’d wrap all the rich, short-guy-loving men around my little finger.”

Lin Qianqian had heard it countless times. She wasn’t particularly short, a little over five feet three, but among taller foreigners, she appeared small and delicate.

She picked up the orange from the sink, touching the dried paint. The words were permanent.

Cuddling the reindeer plushie, she skipped dinner and returned to her room.

Lin Qianqian couldn’t sleep that night. She set an alarm for the early hours of the morning, planning to leave the orange at Lu Yin’s door.

Lu Yin had no obligation to take care of her, yet she had come to the hospital.

Lin Qianqian felt guilty for disrupting her life.

Lu Yin bottled up her emotions. As long as things didn’t drastically interfere with her plans, she wouldn’t complain.

But in the past, Lu Yin would have offered comforting words and a smile. Now, there was only polite indifference.

Lin Qianqian spent hours agonizing over how to improve their relationship. Finally, with tired, burning eyes, she snuck out of her room and placed the orange at Lu Yin’s door, then scurried back to her room, slamming the door shut.

The next morning, dark circles under her eyes, she emerged from her room to find the orange gone.

Her heart skipped a beat. Breakfast was laid out on the dining table. Lu Yin, watching her, gestured towards the soy milk and steamed buns.

Lu Yin had already almost finished her breakfast. Lin Qianqian took a bite of a bun, the savory juices spilling out. She moaned contentedly.

Waking up to a hot breakfast was pure bliss!

“What time do you go to work?” Lin Qianqian asked, trying to gauge Lu Yin’s mood.

“Not for a while,” Lu Yin took her bowl to the kitchen, washed it, and sat back down. “Want an orange?”

Lin Qianqian stopped chewing.

She watched Lu Yin pick up the largest, smoothest orange and begin peeling it.

The words “I’m sorry” were facing away from her. She didn’t know if Lu Yin had noticed them, or if she simply didn’t care, peeling the skin regardless of her message.

Lu Yin looked down. She placed the pieces of peel on the table, one by one. The last piece was placed facing Lin Qianqian.

The three words were clearly visible—

I’m sorry.

This woman was doing this on purpose.

So sly.

Lin Qianqian cringed at her own foolishness from last night. She felt embarrassed for apologizing.

Lu Yin ate a segment of the orange and offered the rest to her.

“I don’t want any,” Lin Qianqian refused.

Lu Yin didn’t insist, turning the peel over and placing the remaining half of the orange on top.

“Don’t do anything so dangerous again,” Lu Yin warned.

“Leaving an orange is dangerous?” Lin Qianqian clenched her fist, imagining the chopsticks in her hand were Lu Yin’s antlers, and snapping them.

She had put so much effort into apologizing, and not only was it not appreciated, but she was being subtly mocked.

“I’m talking about your seafood allergy. The hospital called yesterday and said you went into temporary shock,” Lu Yin corrected her, her tone flat. Lin Qianqian was about to retort, “Well, the doctors saved me,” when Lu Yin continued, “They could only reach the emergency contact.”

Chapter 5

The midday sun was scorching. Lu Yin removed her jacket and began working on the student information forms she had started last night.

Yu Miao entered, greeting her and picking up a form to look at. “You finished already? You must not have slept much last night.”

Lu Yin hummed in agreement, sorting through the printed pages and setting aside the blank ones.

Yu Miao glanced at her. “Insomnia again? I told you to get an intern to do this. We could give them course credit. You didn’t have to do it yourself.”

“Couldn’t sleep, so I might as well do something productive.”

“You made up that excuse about picking someone up from the airport to skip the dinner last night. You should have come and had a few drinks. You might have slept better,” Yu Miao found a stapler and secured the forms together.

“It wasn’t an excuse,” Lu Yin smiled faintly. “I really did pick someone up.”

“No one can make you do anything you don’t want to do,” Yu Miao pressed, curious. “Tell me, who was it?”

“My sister,” Lu Yin replied. “The one I told you about.”

“The one who left? Why are you still taking care of her?” Yu Miao sounded indignant on her behalf. “If I were you, I’d make that mother and daughter pay back every penny.”

Lu Yin remained silent, going to refill her water, only to find the dispenser empty.

Yu Miao moved to replace the bottle, but Lu Yin had already finished before she could help.

While waiting for the water to heat, Lu Yin opened a drawer, rummaging through it before pulling out a small bottle of pills, the rattling sound indicating it was almost empty.

“Don’t treat those like meals,” Yu Miao warned.

“I didn’t sleep last night. I’m going to take a nap,” Lu Yin said, filling her cup halfway with hot water and swallowing the pills.

“I call you ‘sister’ and I’m older than you, so I’m telling you this out of concern. Taking too many pills is bad for your health, especially psychiatric medication. The damage to your brain is irreversible,” Yu Miao paused. “Dr. Zhong is coming back soon. Why don’t you go see her?”

“We’ll see. She’s quite busy,” Lu Yin picked up her jacket from the back of the chair and draped it over her arm. “I’m going to sleep. Call me if anything comes up.”

Yu Miao watched her with a sigh, swallowing the rest of her concerns.

The dorms were mainly occupied by instructors, and with lunchtime approaching, they were mostly empty.

Lu Yin lay down, replied to a few student messages, and then noticed Lin Qianqian’s chat window.

The message she sent last night had finally received a reply this morning: I just woke up…

Followed by a cutesy rabbit emoji.

From last night until now, Lin Qianqian had been carefully trying to mend their relationship. Lu Yin could see it.

She sighed, pulled a blanket over herself, and closed her eyes.

Just as she was drifting off, a shrill ringtone startled her awake. Frowning, she picked up her phone. It was an unknown landline number.

Working at the institution meant dealing with students, parents, and even extended family. Lu Yin had developed the habit of answering every call.

After a moment’s hesitation, she answered, her voice hoarse. “Hello?”

“Hello, are you a family member of Lin Qianqian? This is the City People’s Hospital.”

Lu Yin’s sleepiness vanished. She sat up and put on her shoes. “I’m her sister.”

“The patient has food poisoning and requires a family member to care for her. We could only reach the emergency contact. Would you be able to come to the hospital?”

Without hesitation, Lu Yin agreed. “I’ll be right there.”

The medication was starting to take effect, making her drowsy. She splashed cold water on her face and drove straight to the hospital.

Lin Qianqian was already in bed, hooked up to an IV. Lu Yin paid the fees before hurrying to the ward.

She had intended to scold Lin Qianqian, but the sight of her swollen face and neck, covered in small bumps, stopped her.

“Did you eat seafood?” Lu Yin asked, unable to suppress her annoyance.

Lin Qianqian, now awake, didn’t dare utter a word in response to Lu Yin’s question.

“You’re allergic to seafood, and you still ate it?” Lu Yin looked at the medical chart, her frustration growing. “It says food poisoning. What else did you eat besides seafood?”

“…I had some beer,” Lin Qianqian mumbled, flinching as Lu Yin placed the chart on the table.

She watched Lu Yin sway slightly, as if losing her balance.

Lin Qianqian bit her lip. Surely Lu Yin wasn’t going to faint from anger…

“Did I interrupt your class?” she asked.

“I don’t have any classes at the moment,” Lu Yin sat down, then stood up again to answer a call.

From her formal tone, Lin Qianqian guessed she was speaking to a student.

She latched onto the phrase “at the moment.”

Once the training courses began, Lu Yin would be busy, and she probably wouldn’t be able to reach her.

She had to use this free time to make progress in their relationship.

The allergic reaction was uncomfortable, but it was a small price to pay to get closer to Lu Yin.

Otherwise, Lu Yin would remain distant, and that was unbearable.

Lu Yin returned from the call looking upset. The medication was taking full effect, making her dizzy. She desperately wanted to lie down, but the lack of sleep combined with the drugs was causing a splitting headache.

Completely oblivious, Lin Qianqian felt like she had caused a major disaster. Lu Yin was definitely furious with her.

Even her worst childhood mishaps hadn’t elicited such coldness. Lu Yin radiated displeasure, refusing to even look at her.

In her memory, Lu Yin was the most even-tempered person. Or rather, she possessed every positive quality except anger.

As a child, Lu Yin would often praise her with a gentle smile, never too boisterous, just a slight upturn of her lips as she stroked her head. ‘Our Qianqian did a great job.’

When she made a mistake, Lu Yin would simply shake her head with a sigh. ‘Lin Qian, you can’t do that again. It’s not right.’

A few sweet words and a playful smile were all it took to bring back Lu Yin’s smile.

But now, had she gone too far…?

Lin Qianqian coughed, but Lu Yin didn’t react.

“Sister, I want some water…” she called out, still ignored.

After a few seconds, Lu Yin finally looked up. “What did you say?”

“Nothing,” Lin Qianqian shook her head, afraid to speak again.

Having heard the word “water,” Lu Yin poured her a glass, her hand trembling slightly as she set it on the table, spilling some of the water.

Lin Qianqian reached for the glass, then hesitated.

“Drink it,” Lu Yin pressed her lips together, massaging her temples.

She hadn’t slept all night and was now battling the effects of the medication. Her head throbbed, and her ears were ringing.

“I’m drinking, I’m drinking,” Lin Qianqian said, struggling to reach the glass on the table to her left with her right hand, her left arm occupied by the IV.

Lu Yin watched her through half-closed eyes. With Lin Qianqian attached to an IV, she couldn’t leave to rest. She felt trapped.

She stood up, splashed water on her face again, and sat on the other bed, leaning against the wall, trying to compose herself.

Lin Qianqian could only hear the ticking of the clock. She glanced at Lu Yin, who seemed to have closed her eyes.

Strands of hair fell across her cheek. She wasn’t sleeping peacefully, her brow furrowed, as if burdened by worries. Silent and withdrawn, she was like an unreadable iceberg in a vast ocean.

Lin Qianqian quietly got out of bed, maneuvering the IV stand towards the bathroom.

The stand clattered against a chair, startling Lu Yin awake.

Lu Yin quickly moved the chair and helped her with the stand.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” Lin Qianqian apologized. “I can manage.”

The first IV bag was almost empty. Lu Yin nodded and went to call a nurse.

Back in bed, Lin Qianqian stared at the IV drip.

Lu Yin had only closed her eyes for fifteen minutes, but she looked slightly better. Afraid of falling asleep again, she sat back on the chair.

“You told me to get more sleep last night, but it seems like you’re the one who needs it,” Lin Qianqian muttered under her breath, careful not to be too direct.

“I’ll take you home after the IV,” Lu Yin smoothed back her hair. “I have to go back to the institution.”

“What time will you be back tonight?”

Lu Yin glanced at her. “I don’t know yet.”

Lin Qianqian recognized the look. Lu Yin clearly found her question intrusive.

What did her work schedule have to do with her?

Silence filled the air again, making Lin Qianqian uncomfortable. She shifted in the bed.

Lu Yin tucked the blanket around her. “It’s hot,” Lin Qianqian complained.

Lu Yin immediately let go of the blanket.

Unable to bear the silence, Lin Qianqian asked, “Did I disrupt your work today?”

“No,” Lu Yin said impatiently. “Don’t overthink it.”

Her continued coldness made Lin Qianqian feel like all her efforts since last night had been in vain.

She had tried to be pleasant, she had even resorted to making herself sick for sympathy, despite the risk of annoying Lu Yin.

Yet, she couldn’t elicit any reaction other than indifference.

Her nose tingled, and she covered half her face with the blanket.

“If there’s anything you’re not comfortable with, just tell me. I’ll try my best to accommodate you,” Lu Yin said, her gaze fixed on the IV needle in Lin Qianqian’s hand. “I forgot to tell you where the spare key is this morning. Take it with you when we go back.”

Lu Yin had only set up the electronic lock on Lin Qianqian’s phone. A physical key would be more convenient.

The IV drip finished quickly. After confirming Lin Qianqian was okay, Lu Yin drove her home. “Did you eat breakfast or lunch?” she finally asked during the drive.

“I’m not hungry,” Lin Qianqian held the medication. “The IV was full of nutrients. I don’t need any more food.”

Lu Yin recommended a few good restaurants. Lin Qianqian simply nodded, saying she would try them sometime.

Their conversation remained superficial. Lu Yin dropped her off at the apartment.

The hospital had only prescribed ointment for the bumps and rashes.

Lu Yin searched her medicine cabinet. She remembered having allergy medication, though she wasn’t allergic to anything herself.

When she found it, she realized it was long expired.

The expiration date was several years old.

Chapter 4

Lin Qianqian woke up near noon, seeing Lu Yin coming down the stairs, still wearing last night’s clothes.

She glanced at the laptop. “Did you stay up all night?”

“Just busy with some things,” Lu Yin closed the laptop, unplugged it, and put it in her bag.

“I saw your message this morning. I was already asleep when you sent it,” Lin Qianqian watched Lu Yin glance at her, then blinked, feigning confusion. “So, when are we going to talk?”

“…I mean, when are we going to discuss the ground rules?”

“Now,” Lu Yin poured her a glass of water and sat down opposite her. “My schedule is irregular. My training courses start soon, so I’ll be out a lot, early mornings and late nights. I might even come back in the middle of the night.”

“No problem. I haven’t found a job yet, so my sleeping schedule is flexible too,” Lin Qianqian said understandingly. “I’m still jet-lagged.”

Lu Yin clarified, “What I mean is, the soundproofing here isn’t great. We might disturb each other.”

Lin Qianqian paused mid-sip, looking up. “How bad is the soundproofing…?”

“I’m not sure,” Lu Yin didn’t give a definitive answer. “I haven’t lived here long, and I’ve always lived alone.”

“I went to bed early last night, around two or three. I fell asleep right after asking you for a pillow,” Lin Qianqian looked down, gulping down the water, then offered the glass to Lu Yin. “Can I have another glass?”

Lu Yin refilled her glass.

Lin Qianqian assumed it would be warm water like before, but the heat surprised her, and she stuck her tongue out to cool it, trying to hide her discomfort.

She felt Lu Yin’s gaze, strange and scrutinizing, as if she had been caught doing something wrong.

But she had only stayed one night. Surely Lu Yin wasn’t already annoyed with her?

She hadn’t done anything wrong.

Remembering last night, Lin Qianqian realized she was feeling guilty, which explained why everything about Lu Yin seemed to irritate her.

A clear conscience fears no accusation. She just needed to push the thoughts aside and talk to Lu Yin openly.

“It’s fine. We’ll just be quiet,” Lin Qianqian offered what she hoped was a friendly smile.

This smile had served her well abroad, charming foreigners into being exceptionally welcoming, though she later learned they simply found her small stature endearing. Even after discovering the truth, her indignant outbursts were met with affectionate head pats from taller foreign women.

Anger from someone small was often perceived as cute.

Lu Yin’s gaze lingered, assessing whether she was genuinely oblivious or feigning ignorance.

“What are your plans?” she asked.

“I’m applying for jobs, but you know it’s not easy to find work right now. I need to take my time and find the right fit,” Lin Qianqian stated the harsh reality. “Once I find a job, I’ll rent a place nearby. I won’t stay long.”

“Mm,” Lu Yin acknowledged. “Let me know if you need help finding a place.”

Lin Qianqian wasn’t happy.

Lu Yin’s attitude remained polite but distant. This wasn’t what she wanted.

She would rather be scolded, or even delude herself into believing she could regain Lu Yin’s affection, than endure this estrangement.

Did this mean Lu Yin had moved on from everything that happened between them?

Lin Qianqian refused to accept it.

She hadn’t come back to simply let things go.

There were too many complications back home, but Lu Yin was worth facing them for.

“I used the toiletries in the bathroom last night, just so you know,” Lin Qianqian searched for common ground, trying to bridge the distance between them.

She even considered staging a “chance encounter” in the bathroom.

“Just use them. No need to tell me. The kitchen is fully stocked if you want to cook,” Lu Yin paused, then added, “I have some art supplies on the second floor. I sometimes work in the loft. Your room is downstairs. Tell me if I’m being too loud.”

Lin Qianqian nodded, noticing Lu Yin’s injured right hand. Tentatively, she asked, “Do you still paint?”

“Not as much. I teach at the training center, mainly focusing on instruction.”

Lu Yin’s tone was open, without a hint of concealment.

This made Lin Qianqian feel even more defeated.

“Can I go upstairs and take a look?” Lin Qianqian asked, then rephrased it more assertively, “I want to go upstairs and take a look.”

She was tired of being cautious. It wasn’t her nature, and it felt awkward.

Since Lu Yin treated her like a stranger, she might as well be herself, following her impulses.

If it mended their relationship, great. But if it made things worse, she would simply leave once she found a job.

Until then, she needed to remind Lu Yin of her presence, the boisterous presence of her younger self.

Lu Yin set down her things and headed upstairs. “Come on up.”

Lin Qianqian followed, finding several easels and various boxes scattered around.

“It’s a bit messy. I haven’t had time to tidy up.”

Lin Qianqian looked around curiously, flipping through the paintings on the easels. “Are these yours?”

They didn’t look like Lu Yin’s style.

“No. They’re my students’ work. I’m helping them with revisions,” Lu Yin saw her looking at another easel. “Those are too.”

The loft ceiling was lower than the rest of the apartment. The floor was covered with a rug, strewn with paintbrushes and tubes of paint.

She knew Lu Yin had excelled at watercolors, her style fresh and vibrant. She had even learned a bit about the medium herself. But now, it seemed Lu Yin’s teaching had broadened her artistic range.

Several charcoal sketches lay scattered on the rug, depicting geometric shapes and small animals.

Lu Yin stood quietly, observing her as she looked at the easels, the boxes, the sketches…

Finally, her gaze landed on a locked cabinet.

“What’s in the cabinet?” Lin Qianqian asked, then quickly looked away, drawn to the colorful paintings surrounding it.

“Just some old things,” Lu Yin retrieved a paintbox and several tubes of paint from a box, along with some brushes.

“Old things?” Lin Qianqian turned, accidentally bumping into the paintbox.

Her question was cut short as the three primary colors spilled onto the rug, mixing into a sticky mess.

Lu Yin crouched down, grabbed the trash can, and started wiping up the paint with wet wipes.

“Sister, I’m sorry!” Lin Qianqian looked at the stained paintbox, feeling a pang of guilt.

But as soon as the words left her mouth, she wanted to slap herself.

She should have said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” not “Sister, I’m sorry!”

It was what she always said as a child when she made a mistake.

Back then, Lu Yin would pat her head and say, “It’s okay.”

“It’s fine,” Lu Yin replied calmly, not touching her head, focused on cleaning up the mess.

Lin Qianqian crouched down too, her hands clumsily wiping at the paint.

She had just ruined the paints Lu Yin had taken out, and they looked expensive.

After making a mistake, the natural instinct is to flee.

Lin Qianqian lost all interest in exploring the loft. She pointed her toes towards the stairs, her entire body expressing a desire to escape.

Lu Yin didn’t bother retrieving new supplies. She tied up the garbage bag and carried it downstairs.

Lin Qianqian sat back at the dining table, picking at the bread from her snack bag.

It tasted bland. She crinkled the plastic bag, the sound echoing slightly in the quiet apartment. She watched Lu Yin return, expertly packing her bag.

“Are you going to work?” Lin Qianqian’s fidgeting failed to attract the woman’s attention.

She wanted to eat Lu Yin’s cooking, not stale bread.

“Message me if you need anything,” Lu Yin replied.

“Let’s go out for breakfast together,” Lin Qianqian offered.

“I already ate,” Lu Yin said, “while you were in the bathroom this morning.”

Lin Qianqian tried to recall the morning’s events. It seemed she vaguely remembered something like that.

Lu Yin had asked if she wanted to eat, and she had refused.

She wouldn’t have left her warm bed if it weren’t for an unavoidable biological urge.

“Did you sleep at all last night?” Lin Qianqian asked again.

She hadn’t found a job yet and would be bored staying home alone. The training courses hadn’t started, so Lu Yin shouldn’t be that busy.

She needed to find a way to keep Lu Yin home, or tag along with her.

“I can catch up on sleep at the institution. They have single dorms,” Lu Yin said, putting on her shoes.

“But I’m really hungry,” Lin Qianqian resorted to her most effective tactic, forcing tears to well up in her eyes as she looked at Lu Yin.

“Try to get to bed earlier tonight,” Lu Yin glanced at her. “There’s a street food market around the corner, and the subway station is just a short walk away. Go explore and get something to eat.”

Can you at least acknowledge my existence? Lin Qianqian wanted to scream.

Her silent plea was met with the sound of the closing door as Lu Yin left without another word.

Lin Qianqian took a deep breath, feeling a surge of frustration.

In Lu Yin’s eyes, she was merely a distant relative staying over, offered free lodging out of past affection, treated with polite detachment, and secretly hoped she would find a job and leave soon, restoring peace and quiet to her life.

But Lin Qianqian wasn’t satisfied with this at all.

From last night until now, she had tried all her usual tricks, but Lu Yin remained unmoved.

Lu Yin was like a tightly curled hedgehog, impervious to her attempts to get close.

She needed to find a way to break through this strange tranquility, to rekindle even a spark of their former connection.

Just a small spark.

Once she had an opening, the rest would be much easier.

Breaking down Lu Yin’s defenses would be a challenge, and Lin Qianqian felt a headache coming on.

It was only the second day of their reunion, and she already wanted to pull her hair out.

Chapter 3

Lin Qian.

Only Lu Yin called her that.

Before meeting Lu Yin, Lin Qianqian had loathed her name, finding it unsophisticated, even joining her classmates in mocking it.

As a minor, rebelling against teachers and parents felt like a powerful act, and Lin Qianqian excelled at challenging authority.

She’d scoured the dictionary for a new name, only to be praised by her teacher for her love of learning, while her mother, Lin Yun, scolded her for being foolish. “Common names are easier to live with,” Lin Yun had declared, forbidding any further name-changing schemes.

This was probably the reason she had survived Lin Yun’s often-frantic parenting.

Later, when she moved in with Lin Yun, Lu Yin called her Lin Qian on the first day.

Using her full name felt distant, using a diminutive felt too intimate.

Lin Qian was the perfect fit.

From then on, Lin Qianqian saw her name in a new light.

Lu Yin always said her name softly and gently, her voice clear and warm, a gentle smile gracing her face. Lin Qianqian wished she could hear her name eight hundred times a day from Lu Yin’s lips.

Within a few days, she had developed a remarkably positive impression of Lu Yin, and the feeling of being an outsider gradually dissipated under Lu Yin’s kindness.

In elementary school, her Chinese teacher would mark beautiful sentences with red wavy lines.

In Lin Qianqian’s award-winning third-grade essay, there was this sentence:

Early morning, in the dew-kissed grass of a shallow field after the rain, a deer sings freely.

“dew-kissed grass of a shallow field”: This directly relates to Lin Qianqian’s name. Lin Qianqian (林浅浅), as a “shallow field of grass.” 

“a deer sings freely”: Deer (鹿 – lù) are closely associated with Lu Yin (鹿吟). 吟 (yín) can mean “to sing,” “to chant,” or “to recite.” Therefore, Lu Yin’s name itself evokes the image of a deer singing. 

After being publicly praised by her teacher, Lin Qianqian read the essay to Lu Yin over and over, wanting her to acknowledge how cleverly she had woven their two names into a single sentence.

Lin Qianqian had revisited this sentence three times in her life.

The first time was while racking her brains writing the essay.

The second was when Lu Yin(the deer) pressed her down, inhaling the scent of dew-kissed grass. (The original Chinese uses the word “mi,” which is slang for female genitalia. This reveals a previously unstated intimacy between the two characters.)

The third time was now, as the deer’s attitude towards her was devoid of its former warmth, replaced by a cool detachment.

“You’ve been staring at me a lot since you got back,” Lu Yin met her gaze. “Is there something you want to say?”

She finally looked directly at the person before her. Lin Qianqian’s long, soft hair was still slightly damp and messy, the ends tucked into the collar of her pajamas, peeking out with her movements.

Finally swallowing the rice in her mouth, Lin Qianqian took a sip of juice, brushed her hair back, and licked her lips contentedly. “Um… how can I contact you?”

Although Lu Yin had picked her up, her text messages hadn’t been answered, and she didn’t know if Lu Yin had seen them.

After much deliberation, adding Lu Yin back on WeChat seemed like the best option, but she was too embarrassed to ask directly.

Lu Yin picked up her chopsticks again, her voice soft. “Just contact me on WeChat.”

“But I…” Lin Qianqian almost blurted out that she had deleted and blocked Lu Yin. “I was afraid you wouldn’t see WeChat messages, so I texted you, but you didn’t reply.”

She didn’t know if Lu Yin had tried to contact her after that, or if Lu Yin knew she had been blocked.

All she knew was that her last message from years ago, Don’t ignore me! I’ll really be angry with you, had gone unanswered.

Lin Qianqian had researched it. If you deleted the “I am…” section of the friend request, you could add someone back as if nothing had happened, with no notification on the other end.

She tried it, and a message popped up: You have added the other party as a friend.

It seemed Lu Yin hadn’t deleted her.

“I’ll see them now,” Lu Yin replied.

“Oh, okay,” Lin Qianqian mumbled. An awkward silence descended upon the living room, punctuated only by the clinking of dishes.

Lin Qianqian wanted to say more, but Lu Yin seemed uninterested in conversation.

She was essentially a houseguest, and this woman was probably eager for her to find a place and move out.

“I’m full,” Lin Qianqian took her bowl to the sink, then hesitated, unsure where to put the clean dishes.

Lu Yin entered, carrying a stack of bowls. “Just leave it there. I’ll take care of it later.”

Lin Qianqian stepped back, watching as Lu Yin expertly washed the dishes, wiped the counter and sink, and placed the bowls in the cabinet below.

Finished, Lu Yin washed her hands with soap, glancing back at Lin Qianqian, as if wondering why she was still standing there.

Lin Qianqian silently returned to her room and sprawled on the bed.

Awkward.

Nothing but awkward.

And she hated awkwardness. She’d rather tell the corniest jokes than endure this helpless silence.

Lin Qianqian buried her face in a pillow, unwilling to face reality.

She scrolled through social media, looking at influencers, celebrities, and models, but even the most alluring figures couldn’t quell her frustration.

Damn Lu Yin.

Lin Qianqian shouldn’t have sent that text message.

After learning of her return, Lin Yun had contacted her first, saying she had sold their house and was now renting a one-bedroom apartment with no spare room.

Lin Qianqian hadn’t planned on staying with Lin Yun anyway, but for some reason, she had texted Lu Yin, saying she had just returned and was about to be homeless.

Lu Yin had replied, asking for her flight information and promising to arrange accommodation.

Her tone was casual, no mention of the past, just like before, when Lu Yin would unconditionally fulfill all of Lin Qianqian’s whims, reasonable or not.

Receiving a reply was unexpected. Lin Qianqian had been prepared to figure things out on her own.

Emboldened, she had sent Lu Yin her entire itinerary, including how she would get to the airport, what transportation she would take, and how long she would spend in the airport lounge enjoying a sugar-free iced Americano with two croissants.

Despite the lack of further responses, she continued to bombard Lu Yin with messages.

The result was no second reply.

Which led to her shivering at the airport, huddled in a corner like a pathetic stray, waiting for Lu Yin to take her home.

Lin Qianqian wasn’t picky about beds, but she couldn’t fall asleep no matter how much she tossed and turned.

She needed a sleep aid, specifically, her most familiar one.

In the early hours of the morning, Lin Qianqian found Lu Yin in the living room. Without a word, she simply stared.

Lu Yin was filling out forms on her computer. Hearing the movement, she didn’t turn around. “Just say what you want.”

“Do you have an extra pillow in your room?” Lin Qianqian scratched her head. “You know I like to cuddle something when I sleep, but my period came early, and I accidentally got it on mine.”

Lu Yin got up and fetched a pillow from her room. “There are clean pillowcases in your closet. You can change it.”

Lin Qianqian hugged the pillow, inhaling the familiar scent of Lu Yin’s shampoo.

She didn’t comment, just nodded. “Okay.”

Glancing at the time, she saw it was two or three in the morning. “Shouldn’t you get some rest?”

She wasn’t genuinely concerned about this aloof woman, only wanting to make sure everyone was asleep so she could…take care of business.

“I still have some work to do,” Lu Yin sat back down, resuming her form-filling, seemingly oblivious to Lin Qianqian’s presence.

“I’m going to bed then,” Lin Qianqian said, receiving no response.

Well, their conversation had been dull and pointless anyway.

Lin Qianqian didn’t know much about Lu Yin’s work, only that she worked at an art training institution.

Four years had changed Lu Yin, making her seem distant, and Lin Qianqian lacked the courage to ask for details.

She quickly dismissed the conversation, adjusted the sanitary pad beneath her, tossed her own pillow aside, and hugged the one from Lu Yin’s room tightly.

It was soft and fragrant. Lin Qianqian buried her face in it, unable to get enough of the scent.

She began to reminisce.

Four years ago, Lu Yin would hold her like this, generously allowing her to nuzzle and snuggle.

The woman from her memories emerged, lying beside her, warm hands roaming over her body, caressing every inch of her skin.

Lin Qianqian draped one leg over the pillow, her eyes half-closed, vividly recalling scenes repeated countless nights.

Like a gentle spring rain, the deer reappeared in the field of grass, the soft rain falling, moistening the newly sprouted buds.

Out in the living room, Lu Yin was struggling with the forms. She needed to fill in student information for the past few years, creating separate documents for each term.

She had to finish tonight. She hated being interrupted when engrossed in something, but now, with a ticking time bomb in the house, she had to be prepared for distractions—

Just like earlier.

Looking at the half-finished forms, she rubbed her temples, deciding to establish some ground rules with Lin Qianqian.

She didn’t know how long Lin Qianqian would be staying, and setting some boundaries upfront would ensure they didn’t disturb each other.

Instead of knocking, Lu Yin opened WeChat. She scrolled past the four-year-old messages and sent Lin Qianqian a message, asking her to come to the living room.

Lin Qianqian had just gone back to her room. If her habits hadn’t changed, she would be on her phone, probably browsing attractive photos on foreign websites.

Lu Yin stared at the chat window for several minutes, but received no reply.

She didn’t send another message, instead getting up and walking towards Lin Qianqian’s room.

As she raised her hand to knock, she heard a suppressed sob, as if someone was trying to hold back tears.

Her hand froze on the doorknob. Then, she heard a faint whisper, “Sister…”

Perhaps Lin Qianqian was thinking of a past lover from abroad, or expressing longing for a girlfriend in a long-distance relationship.

There was a third possibility, but she didn’t want to consider it.

Lu Yin turned away, deciding to talk in the morning. A new cry came from the room—

“…Lu Yin!”

Chapter 2

Lin Qianqian didn’t like sour flavors, but Lu Yin did.

The orange lollipop had been unwrapped specifically for Lu Yin.

She had once searched online: Do deer like to eat sour things?

The results told her that red deer, sika deer, and giraffes all ate grass. Only Lu Yin liked sour things.

But her name, Lin Qianqian, meant a shallow field of grass.

So, she could reluctantly accept “deer eat grass” as an answer.

Lu Yin loved sour flavors and often ate Lin Qianqian’s leftovers.

To be precise, Lin Qianqian had forced her, unreasonably and stubbornly.

Everyone goes through a picky eating phase in childhood. Lin Qianqian didn’t like rice or vegetables, but when she offered her barely-touched bowl to Lu Yin, she would leave behind several tasty pieces of meat.

This way, it wouldn’t seem too shabby, and she could feel less guilty.

But in reality, she never succeeded.

“Sister, eat more meat.”

Lu Yin, seeing through her ruse, would pick out all the meat from her own bowl and then mimic Lin Qianqian’s bad habit.

The bowls would be swapped, and Lin Qianqian, instead of successfully feigning a lack of appetite, ended up losing all her meat.

But Lu Yin was still very thin now, even thinner than four years ago.

Lin Qianqian followed her out of the parking garage and into the elevator, realizing they weren’t going to their old home.

“Where am I staying?” Lin Qianqian asked, standing in the living room of the unfamiliar apartment, quickly scanning her surroundings.

It was a duplex apartment with a loft, quite spacious, and probably expensive to rent.

“There’s a spare bedroom. You can stay there temporarily,” Lu Yin said, inserting the key and opening the door. “We’ll find you another place once you’ve settled in.”

“Is this a rental?” Lin Qianqian thought about adding Lu Yin back on WeChat; transferring money would be much easier. “Let me pay you the rent.”

Their breakup had been messy, and she didn’t know how Lu Yin felt about the past. All she could do was try to make a good impression.

“I bought it. It was recently renovated, and I just moved in,” Lu Yin led her into the spare room. “See if you like it.”

“You don’t plan on me staying long-term,” Lin Qianqian stopped, staring into Lu Yin’s eyes.

“Right. So, no need for rent,” Lu Yin said. “If you’re not familiar with the area, I can help you find a place.”

Lin Qianqian’s mind raced, trying to devise a way to stay longer.

Unfortunately, she could only think of her childhood tactic—

Acting spoiled.

But that clearly wouldn’t work now, and would be incredibly awkward.

She was no longer the child who could cling to Lu Yin and beg. Their relationship wasn’t as close as before.

“Okay, I’ll stay here for now.”

Thinking too far ahead wasn’t Lin Qianqian’s style. Enjoying the present was her preferred way of life.

No one could predict the future. Being with Lu Yin for even one more day was enough. She’d worry about the rest later.

Lin Qianqian opened her suitcase, searching for something to sleep in, but found only winter undergarments.

The bulk of her clothes had been shipped back on the day she left. They were probably still at sea, or maybe in the air, and who knew when they would arrive.

She was incredibly lazy and disliked carrying too much luggage, feeling burdened. This suitcase was already her limit.

Besides, she knew it was summer in China, and Lu Yin couldn’t possibly be so stingy as to not let her borrow some clothes.

“Sister, could you please lend me some clothes? I really need pajamas!” Lin Qianqian clasped her hands together. “I’ll wash them for you when my clothes arrive. By hand!”

Wandering around the house in Lu Yin’s clothes was her favorite childhood pastime. Even when Lu Yin wasn’t home, it made her feel like she was there.

Lin Qianqian’s intentions were obvious. Lu Yin picked up the remote and adjusted the air conditioning. “I’ll get you some pajamas in a bit.”

Lu Yin agreed so readily that Lin Qianqian pushed her boundaries. “Sister, I’m a little hungry now.”

Lu Yin’s gaze fell on the bag of snacks. Before she could speak, Lin Qianqian continued, “Snacks aren’t filling. I want a hot meal, Chinese food!”

She emphasized “Chinese food,” desperately wanting to avoid congealed pasta and diarrhea-inducing sandwiches.

“I ate out before you arrived,” Lu Yin refused.

Lin Qianqian didn’t reply, angrily tossing her clothes onto the bed with exaggerated movements.

She wanted this woman to cook her a delicious three-dish meal with soup. She wanted it now.

Her mood had been sour since her flight arrived early, and she had spent the entire journey home trying to read Lu Yin’s expression, fearing she would be kicked out.

Yet, this woman remained impassive, completely unaware of her inner turmoil.

She rolled around on the bed, pulling the neatly folded quilt from the corner to cover her head, only to discover it wasn’t in a duvet cover. Her forceful tugging only resulted in a tangled mess.

Lin Qianqian’s nose tingled. She felt sorry for herself.

But Lu Yin clearly wasn’t going to comfort her, so she stood up to put the duvet cover on.

She located the zipper, inserted a corner of the quilt, and struggled for a long time, but the corners stubbornly refused to align.

“Let me show you,” Lu Yin offered, unexpectedly taking the mangled quilt from her.

She turned the duvet cover inside out, aligned two corners of the quilt, and with a few vigorous shakes, had it perfectly fitted in minutes.

“Sister, you’re so amazing!” Lin Qianqian gave her a thumbs-up, seizing every opportunity to ease the tension.

“Did you learn?” Lu Yin asked.

Lin Qianqian widened her eyes and nodded. “I learned!”

“Are you sure?” Lu Yin pressed.

“Of course?!” Lin Qianqian didn’t understand.

“Alright,” Lu Yin removed the freshly fitted duvet cover. “Now try it yourself.”

Lin Qianqian: “…”

This woman is crazy!

Wasn’t this deliberate torture?

“Can I just sleep with the quilt insert?” Lin Qianqian pleaded, her eyes wide with feigned helplessness. ‘Sister, please help me, I really can’t do it…’

“Didn’t you learn?” A hint of a smile finally touched Lu Yin’s lips. “Prove it to me.”

Honestly, Lin Qianqian hated the phrase “prove it to me.”

As a child, whenever she wanted something from Lu Yin, she had to offer something in return.

Like good grades, finishing a bowl full of vegetables, going to bed and waking up early for a period of time…

Whenever she tried to weasel out of it, Lu Yin would calmly say, “Prove it to me, or there’s no deal.”

Lin Qianqian couldn’t tell if Lu Yin was calm or so numb that she was amused by her antics.

She sat on the bed, calming her anger, and stared at Lu Yin’s face.

One second, two seconds, three seconds.

Lu Yin broke the silence first. “Is there something on my face?”

Lin Qianqian ignored her.

In those brief three seconds, she had already forgiven Lu Yin in her heart.

But she wouldn’t admit to being coerced. Now, dependent on Lu Yin, she had to be mindful of her attitude, lest Lu Yin throw her and her luggage out.

She grabbed the corner of the quilt again, stubbornly using her clumsy method, silently wasting time putting on the duvet cover.

This was her silent rebellion, the only way she could rebel.

“Maybe you should just use the quilt insert,” the woman’s merciless voice came from behind. Lin Qianqian finally snapped, grabbing a nearby pillow and throwing it at Lu Yin.

Lu Yin caught the pillow and casually placed it on a nearby chair. “I’m serious. Otherwise, you’ll waste half an hour.”

She paused. “Or maybe an hour, or even longer.”

Lin Qianqian took a deep breath. If her friends abroad dared to provoke her like this, she wouldn’t have hesitated to use some made-up kung fu to scare them.

But her tricks were useless against Lu Yin. She couldn’t win, and would only end up frustrated.

“I’m going to take a shower!” Lin Qianqian shooed Lu Yin out of the room, vowing never to agree to let her help with the duvet cover again.

Lin Qianqian had always lived in cheap apartments abroad. Seeing the bathtub in the bathroom, she spent a while studying the buttons.

She couldn’t imagine the luxurious life Lu Yin had been living in China!

But there was no time for a bath tonight. She quickly showered and wrapped her wet hair in a towel.

The bathroom was fully stocked with toiletries. She rummaged through them, searching for Chinese labels.

Almost everything came in matching sets, making it difficult to distinguish between shampoo and shower gel until she squeezed them into her hand.

Out of the bathroom, she found the quilt neatly fitted and folded at the foot of the bed, with a set of pajamas placed in the center.

Lin Qianqian quickly changed into the pajamas, closed her suitcase, and pushed it into a corner by the bed.

The air conditioning was set to the perfect temperature, making the room incredibly comfortable. The earlier airport distress vanished instantly.

This tough-talking, soft-hearted woman.

She lifted the collar of the pajamas and sniffed, catching the faint scent of laundry detergent. Glancing at the clean and tidy bed, she felt completely at ease.

Lin Qianqian swaggered out of the bedroom, wanting to show off how well the pajamas fit.

She clumsily used her childish tactics to get Lu Yin’s attention, though the results were usually less than stellar.

But Lu Yin wasn’t there. Only the sounds of cooking and the aroma of fried rice came from the kitchen.

Her stomach rumbled. Lin Qianqian wanted to peek into the kitchen but felt shy. As she hesitated, she heard the clatter of a pan being set down.

Then, footsteps.

Lin Qianqian immediately turned to flee back to the bedroom, but Lu Yin called out.

“Lin Qian, come eat.”