Chapter 33
After leaving the hospital, Lu Yin made Lin Qianqian take her medication, and she promptly fell asleep.
She woke up covered in sweat, the cold air hitting her skin as she pushed the duvet aside.
Lu Yin handed her a thermometer, and Lin Qianqian, glancing at the time, tucked it under her arm.
“Didn’t you go to work?” she asked, her voice hoarse, her throat sore.
“I called in sick for you.”
“I mean, you…” Lin Qianqian’s mind was still foggy, her head throbbing from the hangover.
“No classes,” Lu Yin said.
Lin Qianqian checked her messages with HR「Human Resources」. Nothing.
“How did you call in sick for me?”
“I contacted your boss.”
“Xu Sui?” Lin Qianqian paused. “Then she knows about us…”
“She already knew,” Lu Yin said, looking directly at her. “Is our relationship something to be ashamed of?”
“Depends on what kind of relationship. If it’s just sisters, then no. But anything else…” Lin Qianqian coughed, glancing at Lu Yin, then stopping herself.
“Seems like you’ve recovered.”
“No, I still hurt all over,” Lin Qianqian said, which was true.
After a few minutes, Lu Yin checked her temperature. 37.8 degrees Celsius. Still a fever.
“Why are you recovering so slowly?”
“A shot would have been faster,” Lu Yin said, remembering Lin Qianqian’s refusal of an injection at the hospital, despite her feverish state.
“Who wants a shot in the butt?” Lin Qianqian said, tugging at the duvet, uncomfortable with the sticky feeling of her sweat-soaked clothes.
Lu Yin retrieved a clean duvet from the closet. “Get up and eat when you wake up. I have some things to do this afternoon.”
“Classes?” Lin Qianqian asked, getting dressed.
“No classes,” Lu Yin repeated after a moment.
The food on the table was still warm. Lin Qianqian watched Lu Yin take the duvet to the balcony to dry.
It was a rare sunny day in late autumn. The warmth of the sun streaming through the window soothed her aching body.
Ming Yao, after a long silence, finally contacted her.
[Ming Yao: Are you free tonight? I need your help with something.]
[Lin Qianqian: I’m not doing anything illegal.]
[Ming Yao: Of course not. I’ll pick you up from work.]
Lin Qianqian briefly explained what had happened the previous night, hoping Ming Yao would tell her to rest and drink plenty of fluids. But Ming Yao insisted on picking her up that afternoon.
A true friend, always ready to drag you into trouble.
Lu Yin sat opposite Zhong Shiwu in her private clinic.
The consultation room, decorated in warm, inviting colors, was unlike a typical hospital room.
A cute pen holder filled with colorful pens sat on the desk, the kind children would love.
Zhong Shiwu enjoyed talking to young women, their youthful energy a welcome contrast to her own advancing age. It made her feel less…old.
She would be forty next year.
And the new year was only a month away.
“Teacher Lu, your resilience is impressive,” Zhong Shiwu said, her voice laced with surprise.
During their last conversation, she hadn’t been optimistic about Lu Yin’s condition, believing that forced interactions, especially when resisted, would exacerbate her symptoms, potentially triggering a relapse.
She didn’t want Lu Yin to revert to her previous state. It would be difficult for both of them.
But Lu Yin seemed to be coping much better than expected.
“It seems recovery is possible even without medication,” Zhong Shiwu said thoughtfully. “But patients like you are rare.”
She frowned, her concern still evident.
Lu Yin was good at hiding her emotions. If she wanted to conceal something, Zhong Shiwu couldn’t guarantee she would always be able to see through her facade.
“I didn’t come here for help. I just haven’t seen you in a while,” Lu Yin said, looking around the room. She hadn’t been here in years.
Although Zhong Shiwu owned the clinic, she, like Lu Yin, preferred to delegate responsibilities.
Zhong Shiwu didn’t have many patients, her time mostly spent traveling, her work shrouded in mystery. Lu Yin didn’t know the details, nor did she care to know.
She preferred solitude.
Yu Miao and Zhong Shiwu were close, their friendship a legacy of their shared connection to Lu Sui.
Lu Yin was a generation younger, their relationship complicated by the past, the unspoken grief and guilt that lingered between them.
“Of all places, why meet at the hospital?” Zhong Shiwu sighed. “I hate hospitals more than anyone.”
“We could have met at a cafe, or gone to the movies, or…has it been a while since we went sketching together?”
“I’m not in the right frame of mind for sketching,” Lu Yin said, declining the offer. “And the other options aren’t suitable either.”
Zhong Shiwu rarely met with patients in her clinic, preferring public places, the casual setting conducive to open communication.
Lu Yin, however, saw these outings as a form of therapy, a disguised attempt to analyze her.
“How is your sister?” Zhong Shiwu asked, changing the subject, trying to find a way past Lu Yin’s defenses.
“She’s fine,” Lu Yin said, offering no further details.
“Then I’ll visit her sometime,” Zhong Shiwu said, raising an eyebrow, expecting a refusal.
“She has a fever. She won’t be well for a while.”
As expected.
Zhong Shiwu smiled, knowing Lu Yin was meticulous about concealing her own vulnerabilities, except when it came to her sister.
Lin Qianqian was her weakness, a vulnerability she couldn’t hide, and Zhong Shiwu wasn’t above exploiting it.
“It’s just a visit. Did she misunderstand something when I was at your apartment?”
“No,” Lu Yin said, then added, “I won’t allow any misunderstandings.”
“Someone recommended a private art consultant recently. She specializes in exhibition design. I’ll send you a custom frame for your paintings,” Zhong Shiwu offered, remembering the painting she had taken from Lu Yin and then returned. “A unique piece, not available for sale.”
“Sure,” Lu Yin said, accepting the offer without mentioning the painting.
It wasn’t the same painting anymore.
Zhong Shiwu stood up, leaning against the desk, closer to Lu Yin, studying her.
Lu Yin met her gaze, their height difference not diminishing the intensity of their silent exchange.
Zhong Shiwu, recognizing Lu Yin’s stubbornness, didn’t want to waste her time.
“If only you were as gentle as Lu Sui, my life would be so much easier,” she said, sitting back down, her gaze softening with concern.
Lu Sui had been a constant presence in Lu Yin’s childhood, their personalities remarkably similar.
But people changed. Environments changed people.
Their session ended. Zhong Shiwu gave Lu Yin a new prescription.
Holding the medication, Lu Yin felt no comfort, no relief. She had become indifferent to its effects.
The few times she had been triggered recently, she had endured the emotional turmoil, the aftermath a strange, almost perverse sense of satisfaction.
She couldn’t explain it. It was too disturbing, too twisted.
Only through that excruciating pain could she feel Lin Qianqian’s presence, her vitality, not as a lifeless image on a canvas, but as a living, breathing person.
Her phone buzzed. She checked the message and replied to Lin Qianqian.
The red dot on the map app started moving erratically.
Sneaking out again.
“How does it feel to have her back?” Zhong Shiwu asked, never missing an opportunity to observe her patients.
“Desensitization…perhaps it’s worth a try,” Lu Yin said, a faint smile playing on her lips, her attention shifting from her phone.
“It seems to be working,” Zhong Shiwu said, her own smile genuine now. She knew Lu Yin was trying.
She felt a surge of relief, then a pang of sadness for Lu Sui.
She had always believed friendship was more important than love, but when it came to Lu Sui, she had always been a step too late.
Perhaps it was fate.
She remembered Lu Yin’s reaction years ago, upon learning the truth, her face devoid of emotion, a terrifying calmness that had sent chills down Zhong Shiwu’s spine.
As a doctor, she dreaded that look, the sudden acceptance of a previously unbearable burden.
She had saved Lu Yin that night, by the ocean, Lu Yin’s words echoing in her ears: “I’ve lost everything I ever wanted.”
Lu Yin mourned her mother, spending her life savings to imprison her father, yet she had fallen in love with the daughter of the woman who had destroyed her family.
Her reputation was tarnished, the daughter of a murderer, a perpetrator of incest.
Zhong Shiwu realized her presence might be triggering for Lu Yin, a constant reminder of her past, her guilt.
By returning, by being there for Lu Yin, she was saying, I know you’re a good person, not the monster they say you are.
And Lu Yin had found solace in that belief, a release from the burden of guilt she carried.
Lu Sui, the only daughter of a prominent artistic family, had been showered with love and affection. Lu Yin, her daughter, had inherited that privilege.
And with it, an immense pride, a fragile ego easily shattered.
Lu Yin’s pride had been broken. She didn’t want to face the consequences, the shame.
And she had nothing left to lose.
Her mother was gone, and her sister, Lin Qianqian, would be fine without her.
“I’ll send you the design for the frame when it’s ready,” Zhong Shiwu said, checking her messages. “I wonder if she’s free these days.”
“Thanks,” Lu Yin said, her tone indifferent. She wasn’t interested in the frame.
Zhong Shiwu had given her many gifts, all ending up in boxes, gathering dust. Only practical art supplies were deemed worthy of use.
But those were no different from the ones she bought herself. She didn’t see the point of cherishing gifts, of treating them as precious objects. It was a waste.
“I’ll walk you out,” Zhong Shiwu said, following her out of the room.
After lunch, Lin Qianqian took another nap.
Ming Yao had given her some time to rest, not dragging her out of bed immediately.
They met at the entrance of the apartment complex, Lin Qianqian bundled up in layers of clothing.
If Lu Yin were home, she wouldn’t have let her leave, not with a fever and a hangover.
She didn’t know why she had angered Lu Yin, despite having informed her of her plans, but she didn’t want a repeat of last night.
“You still have a fever?” Ming Yao asked, adjusting Lin Qianqian’s scarf as the driver started the car.
“Just a little over thirty-seven,” Lin Qianqian coughed, wishing she had brought a thermos of hot water.
A message from Lu Yin arrived.
[Lu Yin: Did you take your medicine and go to bed after lunch?]
Lin Qianqian didn’t reply, pretending to be asleep.
Suddenly, she felt uneasy. “Where are we going?” she asked.
“To the hospital,” Ming Yao said.
“The hospital?” Lin Qianqian touched Ming Yao’s forehead. “Are you sick?”
“To my stepmother’s clinic. It’s a private hospital,” Ming Yao explained. “Do you know how long I had to be on my best behavior to earn a day off? I can’t even remember the last time I slept in.”
“Then why are you going there?” Lin Qianqian chuckled. “To offer yourself as a sacrifice?”
“Absolutely not. This time, she’s going down,” Ming Yao said, showing her a small box. “I got this listening device from a private investigator. I’m going to plant it in her private lounge at the clinic.”
“Is that legal?” Lin Qianqian asked.
“It’s just a little game between me and my dear mommy. Perfectly legal,” Ming Yao said, grinning.
Lin Qianqian checked her phone. No new messages from Lu Yin. She replied.
[Lin Qianqian: I just woke up. Where are you?]
The drive took almost an hour. The driver stopped a few blocks from the hospital.
Ming Yao warned the driver not to reveal their destination, then she and Lin Qianqian walked towards the clinic, their movements furtive.
“If anything happens, you’re my shield!” Ming Yao said, hiding behind Lin Qianqian.
The clinic was quiet, the hallways empty.
“You haven’t met my stepmother before, so this will definitely work!” Ming Yao whispered.
“Definitely work?” Lin Qianqian looked at the nameplates on the doors, searching for the room Ming Yao had mentioned. “You’ve tried this before?”
“Don’t remind me,” Ming Yao pushed her forward. “Turn right at the end of the hallway! Keep an eye out for anyone coming!”
“I know, I know! Stop being so dramatic. I’m the one who’s going to look suspicious,” Lin Qianqian said, eyeing the security cameras.
They reached the end of the hallway, and Lin Qianqian cautiously peeked around the corner.
“Anyone there? I don’t know if she’s even here. She’s always so secretive,” Ming Yao whispered, her heart pounding. “She always appears when I least expect it…”
And then proceeds to catch her red-handed.
“No one,” Lin Qianqian said, tiptoeing forward. “Which room is it?”
“Look for the consultation room, not the lounge. They’re connected,” Ming Yao said, her body hunched over, her head down.
“Consultation room…” Lin Qianqian muttered, scanning the doors.
Suddenly, the doorknob of a nearby room turned.
They froze.
“Little Grass! Cover me!” Ming Yao quickly pulled a corner of Lin Qianqian’s scarf over her face, sat down on a nearby bench, and hid behind Lin Qianqian.
Lin Qianqian’s heart sank as she saw the person emerge from the consultation room.
“Sister…?”
Lu Yin…
What was she doing here?
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