Chapter 42
Lying in Lu Yin’s arms, Lin Qianqian felt a sense of peace she hadn’t experienced in a long time.
Lu Yin had forgiven her transgression, her trespass into the forbidden territory of Lu Yin’s room, her childish demands. It felt like the past, when she could say anything, do anything, and Lu Yin wouldn’t be angry.
She inhaled the familiar scent of Lu Yin’s shampoo. It hadn’t changed.
Lu Yin didn’t like change. She always used the same brand of paint, the same brushes, everything in its designated place.
Even if Lin Qianqian, in her forgetfulness, misplaced something in the bathroom, it would always reappear in its original spot.
“Sister, do you have OCD?” she asked suddenly.
Lu Yin, drifting off to sleep, was startled awake.
She looked down at Lin Qianqian, her wide, innocent eyes staring back at her, seemingly unaware of the interruption.
Lu Yin pulled Lin Qianqian’s head closer, her hand covering Lin Qianqian’s face, silencing her.
“Hey…” Lin Qianqian mumbled, her voice muffled, spitting out a few strands of hair. “Where are we going for Christmas? I don’t know any good places. Most malls are already decorated for New Year’s, right?”
“There should be some stalls at the night market. I’ll ask my colleagues. I doubt you’ve been there before.”
“I need to think about what to buy. I need something new. I buy the same things every year. It’s boring,” Lin Qianqian muttered, then looked up at Lu Yin, kissing her softly.
Lu Yin opened her eyes, her gaze fixed on Lin Qianqian.
Lin Qianqian giggled and kissed her again.
“Sister, do you want to buy…”
Lu Yin silenced her with another kiss.
She couldn’t reason with Lin Qianqian, whose mouth never stopped moving, her words a constant stream of chatter, her thoughts flitting from one topic to the next.
Only a kiss could silence her.
Lu Yin’s tongue traced Lin Qianqian’s lips, the light touch sending shivers down her spine.
Lin Qianqian’s foot instinctively kicked Lu Yin’s leg, her toes playfully scratching her skin, her hand moving to Lu Yin’s waist, her leg rubbing against Lu Yin’s.
As they parted, Lu Yin recognized Lin Qianqian’s familiar gestures.
Lin Qianqian wasn’t afraid of kissing anymore.
She knew Lin Qianqian wanted more, her subtle movements a silent plea for intimacy.
Lu Yin wiped Lin Qianqian’s lips, watching her, her earlier energy dissipated, her eyes half-closed, and closed her own eyes again.
“Sister…” Lin Qianqian whispered, her voice soft and clingy. “Sister…”
“Be quiet,” Lu Yin said.
“You’re so mean!” Lin Qianqian complained. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this!”
“If you want a next time, then go to sleep.”
Lin Qianqian, defeated, snuggled closer, her head resting on Lu Yin’s chest. “Fine…” she mumbled. “But it’s so soft…like a pillow…”
“When’s our next kiss…?” she asked, unable to sleep now. “Can you give me some warning next time? And make it last longer…I haven’t had enough…”
“I’ll give you some warning next time.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
Lu Yin ended the conversation, and Lin Qianqian, finally satisfied, drifted off to sleep.
Lu Yin woke up in the middle of the night, a strange dream lingering, a giant insect crawling on her, its hot breath against her face.
In the darkness, she recognized Lin Qianqian’s face, her body pressed against Lu Yin’s, seemingly unaware that Lu Yin was awake.
“Lin Qian?”
“Hmm…?” Lin Qianqian’s eyes fluttered open, and she quickly moved away. “When did you wake up?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?”
Lin Qianqian didn’t want to admit that the brief kiss had awakened her, and she hadn’t been able to fall back asleep.
“Don’t scare me like that! I’ll…I’ll have nightmares if I try that again…”
“There’s going to be a next time?”
“For kissing, yes. But for this…why not?” Lin Qianqian said, not seeing the problem. “You wouldn’t help me, so I had to take care of it myself.”
Was “take care of it myself” the appropriate phrase in this context?
Lu Yin touched her hip, her fingers damp.
“I’ll wipe it for you…” Lin Qianqian said, crawling back towards her, her hand resting on Lu Yin’s stomach.
Lu Yin moved her hand away, and Lin Qianqian, sensing her displeasure, quickly lay back down, facing the wall. “I’m sleepy. Don’t bother me.”
Lu Yin glanced at the time. Her class started at eight, and it was almost six.
She got out of bed and went to the bathroom.
Lin Qianqian turned to look at her. “Hurry up and go back to sleep,” Lu Yin said, without turning around. “Set an alarm. I don’t have time to drive you to work today.”
After a sleepless night, Lin Qianqian wasn’t expecting to be productive at work.
She didn’t care about her own salary, but she couldn’t jeopardize the company’s success.
She messaged HR, calling in sick, and fell back asleep.
She woke up in the afternoon, ordered takeout, and then resumed her quest for the cabinet key.
She had lied about losing her keys before, and when Lu Yin had offered to take her to the property management office, she had mumbled something about finding them, easily dismissing the issue.
She had searched the entire apartment, every drawer, every box, even the toilet paper holder, but the key remained elusive.
She couldn’t even find a spare.
She needed to talk to Lu Yin.
She couldn’t wait until Christmas. She wanted to spend Christmas Day with Lu Yin, not playing hide-and-seek.
But she needed an excuse, and Christmas Eve was the perfect opportunity.
For days, she had been calling and messaging Lu Yin during work hours, finally persuading her to clear her schedule for the following week.
She couldn’t confront Lu Yin directly at the institution, not with Yu Miao there, so she had to resort to more subtle tactics.
She had already finished her work and requested time off for the New Year’s holiday.
Lu Yin agreed to give her Christmas Eve off. At lunchtime, they sat facing each other, and Lin Qianqian, studying Lu Yin’s expression, began to implement her plan.
“Sister, where are we going tomorrow?”
“Wherever you want,” Lu Yin said, eating her lunch.
“I’ve already made plans,” Lin Qianqian said confidently, showing her a list on her phone. “I asked all the experts at the office for recommendations. We’re going to have an amazing Christmas.”
Lu Yin nodded, letting her take charge.
“How about a game of hide-and-seek tonight?” Lin Qianqian asked.
“Sure,” Lu Yin said, wiping her mouth with a napkin.
Lin Qianqian, seeing her casual indifference, felt a flicker of annoyance. “I’m being serious! These are our Christmas plans!”
“Go ahead,” Lu Yin said, looking at her. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Then let’s play our traditional game tonight,” Lin Qianqian said, then added, “By the way, I have to go to the office in a few days. I left my keys and my portable charger there. Where’s the spare key? I’ll need it for a few days.”
Lu Yin yawned. “It’s in a small box under the shoe cabinet in the entryway.”
“Then you should take a nap. I’ll wash the dishes when I’m done.”
Lu Yin nodded and went to her room.
Lin Qianqian waited a few minutes, then checked the box under the shoe cabinet. It contained several spare keys, but not the one for the loft cabinet.
If Lu Yin was home, the key must be on her or in her room. She would have to find it tonight.
She washed the dishes and went to her room, her nap restless and unsatisfying, her mind racing, planning her strategy.
She had one minute to find the key, unlock the cabinet, examine its contents, and then restore everything to its original position.
If one minute wasn’t enough, she would try again, and again. She was a master of manipulation.
She drifted off to sleep, then woke up to the sound of Lu Yin moving around in the living room.
She saw Lu Yin’s laptop on the coffee table. “More work?”
“Just a few things. I’ll finish them tonight,” Lu Yin said, looking at her. “So, finish your game early.”
Work always came first for Lu Yin, but she was willing to indulge Lin Qianqian’s childish games.
“Then let’s play now!” Lin Qianqian pulled her off the sofa. “One minute to hide, one minute to seek. The seeker has to stay in the bathroom for one minute, and the hider can hide anywhere in the apartment.”
“Okay.”
“Anywhere, okay?” Lin Qianqian pressed, then, seeing Lu Yin’s indifferent shrug, declared, “I’ll hide first.”
“Fine,” Lu Yin said, opening the timer app on her phone.
“Three, two, one,” Lin Qianqian counted down, and Lu Yin went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.
Lin Qianqian searched the living room frantically.
No key in Lu Yin’s jacket pockets.
No key or notebook on Lu Yin’s desk.
No key in the coffee table drawers…
But there were a few small pill bottles.
She picked them up, glanced at them, and put them in her pocket.
The timer showed ten seconds left. She rushed into Lu Yin’s room and hid in the closet.
She could hear Lu Yin’s footsteps in the living room. She took the pill bottles out of her pocket.
The light from her phone illuminated the labels. “Chlorpromazine…?”
She looked it up. Used to control excitement, agitation, and anxiety in patients with schizophrenia or other psychotic disorders, especially those with apathy, withdrawal, catatonia, depression, hallucinations, paranoia, and delusions.
“What is this…?” she muttered, confused.
She remembered seeing other medications in the drawer, but she had been focused on finding the key. She pocketed one of the empty bottles.
The timer went off. Lin Qianqian emerged from the closet, hands on her hips. “Sister, you didn’t find me. Your turn to hide.”
Lu Yin looked at her, then nodded, returning to the bathroom.
“Ready or not, here I come!” Lin Qianqian said, setting the timer and checking the loft first. The cabinet was still locked.
She went back downstairs, wondering where Lu Yin usually kept her keys.
She had checked the spare key box under the shoe cabinet earlier.
Running out of time, she decided to try her luck.
The small box was still there, pushed further back into the corner.
She opened it. A new key, and the one for the loft cabinet.
So…
Even Lu Yin made mistakes. She must have forgotten about the spare key.
But why go through all this trouble? Moving the key back and forth. Did she rarely use it?
Lin Qianqian took the key, not bothering to put it back.
The timer went off. Lu Yin emerged from the bathroom and found her almost immediately.
Lin Qianqian held up her hand. “Wait! I’m hiding again.”
Lu Yin tilted her head, waiting for her to make up a new rule.
“Best two out of three. That’s how we played it abroad,” Lin Qianqian said, pushing Lu Yin towards the bathroom. “Last round!”
This was her chance.
The third round began.
Lin Qianqian rushed to the loft, tripping over a box and knocking over an easel, the paintbox shattering on the floor, the paints mixing into a sticky mess.
But she didn’t care. She inserted the key into the lock.
As the lock clicked open, she grinned, her curiosity about to be satisfied.
But the sight that greeted her made her blood run cold.
Her smile vanished. She stared at the painting, her own face staring back at her, naked and vulnerable.
She covered her mouth, stifling a scream.
She grabbed the painting, clutching it to her chest, and sat down on the floor, leaning against the open cabinet door, gasping for air.
It was Lu Yin’s work. She recognized it instantly.
She had spent countless hours watching Lu Yin paint, and there was no mistaking her style, even though she didn’t understand art.
But the sight of her own naked body on the canvas, painted by Lu Yin, filled her with a terror that brought tears to her eyes.
The date in the corner indicated it had been painted four years ago.
She remembered the medication she had taken from Lu Yin’s drawer, the online description of its uses, and suddenly understood Lu Yin’s transformation.
The gossip, the accusations, her own cowardice…they had driven Lu Yin to this.
She shouldn’t have left, not even after Lu Yin’s harsh words, her rejection.
She had abandoned Lu Yin, leaving her to suffer alone, her pain masked by medication, her life a hollow shell.
What friend, what psychiatrist? Lu Yin was a patient, a madwoman.
Only a madwoman would keep a painting of her naked sister, hidden away, her outward disgust a mask for her twisted desires.
Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the sweat on her forehead.
She felt hot and cold at the same time, unable to look at the painting in her hands.
She heard footsteps on the stairs, slow and deliberate, like a death knell.
She had forgotten about the timer.
The minute was up.
Lu Yin was coming.
She frantically shoved the painting back into the cabinet, ignoring the sound of tearing canvas, her hands fumbling with the lock.
But her panic made her clumsy, the key refusing to turn, her hands shaking, the metal digging into her skin.
Suddenly, she was pulled away from the cabinet, a strong hand gripping her arm.
Lu Yin’s face appeared before her.
Lu Yin wiped away her tears, her hand smudged with paint, staining Lin Qianqian’s already flushed cheeks.
“Found you,” she said, her voice soft.
“Lin Qian.”
Lu Yin smiled.
“You lose.”
Lin Qianqian couldn’t see any light in Lu Yin’s eyes, her shadow falling over Lin Qianqian, the darkness consuming her.
“Sister…” Lin Qianqian whispered, trying to steady her breathing, willing Lu Yin’s eyes to brighten, to reflect some semblance of life, not this empty darkness.
But Lu Yin didn’t respond, so she tried again.
“Sister…”
She tried to appeal to Lu Yin’s conscience, their shared humanity, their sisterhood.
Sisters didn’t do this. They didn’t harbor secret desires, didn’t paint each other naked.
But Lu Yin just stared at her, silent and unmoving.
The silence broke Lin Qianqian. “Sister…”
She sobbed, her voice filled with fear and confusion. “What’s wrong with you…?”
She screamed, her voice rising in a desperate plea. “Sister…”
The painting was back in the cabinet, the lock discarded on the floor.
The cabinet door hung open.
Lu Yin stared at her, two Lin Qianqians superimposed, their images merging, becoming one.
She reached out, her hand hovering over Lin Qianqian’s face, as if trying to distinguish between the real Lin Qianqian and the figment of her imagination, the ghost that haunted her dreams.
Lin Qianqian flinched at her cold touch, scrambling away, her body rolling across the spilled paint, staining her clothes.
She ran downstairs, her heart pounding, and locked herself in the bathroom, splashing cold water on her face.
She unclenched her hand, the object she had been clutching now damp with sweat, the words still legible.
—Je suis contrôlé par la conscience.
I am controlled by desire.
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