Chapter 52
Lin Qianqian stared at the ruined wolf hair brush on the nightstand, its tip frayed and stained with paint.
She had lost count of how many times Lu Yin had written her name on her back, the fine brushstrokes a torturous reminder of Lu Yin’s possessiveness.
She had never imagined her gift being used like this.
Later that night, wrapped in a blanket, she sat on a chair, watching Lu Yin change the sheets.
In the past, they would have simply moved to the dry side of the bed, but tonight, Lu Yin had been relentless, her passion fueled by something darker, something Lin Qianqian couldn’t understand.
Her usual tactic of feigning pain hadn’t worked. Lu Yin hadn’t stopped, hadn’t asked if she was okay. Her cries had been silenced by Lu Yin’s hand over her mouth, her tears a mixture of pain and frustration.
She had tried to escape, to hide in the corners of the bed, but Lu Yin had pulled her back, her touch insistent, demanding.
“Sister…” Lin Qianqian whispered, her eyes red and swollen, watching Lu Yin gather the soiled sheets.
“I’ll pick you up from the airport next time, I promise. I forgot…” she said, hoping for forgiveness, a return to their earlier easy intimacy.
But Lu Yin didn’t respond, her silence a stark contrast to her usual quick forgiveness.
“What’s wrong? Did you lose your memory after putting your pants back on?” Lin Qianqian asked, tugging at Lu Yin’s shirt as she walked past.
Her patience was wearing thin. She was tired of apologizing.
Lu Yin released her grip. “Go to bed. I’m going to the institution.”
“It’s only six o’clock,” Lin Qianqian said. “Why are you going so early? Are you avoiding me?”
“They’re rearranging the studios after the New Year. I’m helping them clear out some classrooms. They have classes during the day. It would be too noisy.”
“I’ll come with you. I can help.”
“Go to bed,” Lu Yin said, her gaze firm. “Now.”
Lin Qianqian met her gaze, then, defeated, lay down on the clean sheets.
“These new sheets don’t smell like you. I can’t sleep,” she grumbled. “If you’re angry, you should tell me. How am I supposed to know if you’re still mad?”
“We just…did that, and now you’re acting like nothing happened. It’s not fair!” she said, her frustration growing. “Should I just pour a bucket of cold water over myself?”
This wasn’t how it usually went. A bit of playful teasing, a few apologies, and everything would be back to normal.
Now, Lu Yin was giving her the silent treatment, as if she had committed some unforgivable sin.
“Have you been taking your medication?” Lin Qianqian asked, wondering if Lu Yin was suppressing her emotions, her usual calm demeanor a carefully constructed facade.
The only response was the sound of the closing door.
“Lu Yin! You’re crazy!” she shouted, then, as the door opened and she saw Lu Yin’s face, she quickly closed her eyes, feigning sleep. “Oops, I was talking in my sleep again…”
After a long silence, she opened her eyes, stifling a scream as she saw Lu Yin standing beside her bed.
“I called in sick for you. Stay home and don’t go anywhere,” Lu Yin said, then left.
“It’s only the second day of the year, and I’ve already lost my perfect attendance bonus,” Lin Qianqian muttered. “That’s a few hundred yuan…”
Lu Yin seemed more adept at calling in sick for her than she was.
But she wouldn’t argue. She rolled over and went back to sleep.
Lu Yin took her medication and drove to the institution.
The stack of student applications, including Xu Si’s niece’s, was waiting for her.
The institution’s reputation was growing, the number of applicants increasing with each term. To maintain a balanced student-teacher ratio, they had to be selective.
Lu Yin set the first application aside. The rest were rejections.
As she worked, exhaustion set in.
She hadn’t slept much on the plane, or the previous night, and she was running on empty.
Her eyes met her own smiling face in the photo on the wall.
She had heard Xu Si had recognized her from that photo, a chance encounter that had reconnected her with Lin Qianqian.
It was a strange coincidence, considering they no longer lived in the same city.
But Lu Yin didn’t like coincidences. She didn’t want Lin Qianqian reconnecting with people from her past, or forming new relationships.
Protecting Lin Qianqian from these outside influences was her duty as a sister.
She closed her eyes, her mind racing, trying to remember who else was in Lin Qianqian’s life.
Seeing Xu Si’s name on her phone, Lin Qianqian assumed it was a social call, but Xu Si was calling about the art classes.
The next term was full, and Xu Si’s niece hadn’t been accepted. She asked Lin Qianqian to speak to Lu Yin, hoping for an exception.
Lin Qianqian, unable to refuse outright, agreed to ask, promising to get back to her.
Lu Yin had always been in charge of selecting students for the smaller classes.
And Lu Yin wasn’t one to compromise her principles for personal favors. This wasn’t going to be easy.
That evening, Lu Yin came home with two takeout containers of beef noodle soup.
“Eat while it’s hot,” she said, placing the food on the table, then setting down her bag and hanging up her jacket.
“Did you get any rest today?” Lin Qianqian asked, still puzzled by Lu Yin’s seemingly endless energy.
They had both been up all night, but while Lin Qianqian had felt like a zombie that morning, Lu Yin had gone to work, her energy levels seemingly unaffected.
“I took a nap this afternoon,” Lu Yin said, her voice tinged with fatigue.
Lin Qianqian hesitated.
Did she really want to ask Lu Yin for a favor, especially for an old friend?
“The next term starts after the New Year, right?” she asked, seeing Lu Yin nod. “Is it full?”
“Why? Do you want to enroll?” Lu Yin asked, a hint of amusement in her voice, pouring herself a glass of water and sitting down at the table.
“Would you save a spot for me?” Lin Qianqian hinted. “You’ve seen my artistic skills.”
“Don’t even think about it,” Lu Yin said, without looking up. “I wouldn’t want to be associated with such…mediocrity.”
“I could use a pseudonym,” Lin Qianqian said, covering her face with her hand, only to have Lu Yin pull it away. “So, no spots left?”
Lu Yin’s gaze was intense, and Lin Qianqian looked away, feeling a flicker of guilt.
“Just…forget I asked,” she said, forcing a smile. “No spots, no problem.”
Lu Yin finished her noodles, and Lin Qianqian, eating quickly, glanced at her. “You should eat more.”
“I was just asking for my friend.”
She couldn’t stand the silence, Lu Yin’s quiet disapproval a familiar tactic, waiting for her to confess, to reveal her true intentions.
“You want me to make an exception?” Lu Yin asked.
“It’s my friend, Xu Si. You remember her, right?”
“No.”
Lin Qianqian sensed Lu Yin’s displeasure. “I’ll just tell her the class is full. It’s just…we haven’t seen each other in a while, and I didn’t want to refuse her directly.”
“Mm,” Lu Yin said, standing up and leaving the room.
Just ‘mm’ and then you leave?
Lin Qianqian looked at her barely touched bowl of noodles, sensing Lu Yin’s lingering displeasure.
“Don’t waste food,” she said, transferring the beef slices to her own bowl and finishing both servings before retrieving her pajamas and heading towards the bathroom.
She had heard Lu Yin showering earlier, but she didn’t want to wait. She knocked on the door.
The water stopped running. “Can I come in?” she asked cheerfully.
The door opened. Lu Yin was wearing a bathrobe, her hair damp, a few droplets clinging to the towel wrapped around her chest.
Lin Qianqian’s gaze lingered on her exposed neck and shoulders. “Are you done? Want to shower together?”
“Were you jealous just now? Of my classmate?”
“And now you’re only wearing a bathrobe, accusing me of seducing you? It seems like you’re the one seducing me.”
Lu Yin’s lips tightened, Lin Qianqian’s teasing words a familiar challenge. She never learned.
“I saw a video the other day while you were gone. Want to role-play?” Lin Qianqian asked.
“What kind of video?” Lu Yin asked, her brow furrowing.
Lin Qianqian coughed, tugging at her collar, feigning a shiver. “Sister, the water’s out at my place. Can I borrow your shower?”
“No,” Lu Yin said, starting to close the door, but Lin Qianqian stuck her foot in the way.
“Wrong! You’re supposed to say, ‘I’m using it now, but you can join me if you want,’” Lin Qianqian corrected her, her voice serious. “And you’re supposed to loosen your bathrobe, so it’s easier for me to take it off later.”
“Move your foot,” Lu Yin said.
Lin Qianqian withdrew her foot, trying again. “Are you using the shower? Do you mind if I join you?”
“I do.”
The door slammed shut.
Lin Qianqian scoffed at Lu Yin’s lack of cooperation, but she was secretly pleased.
She knocked on the door a few more times, but Lu Yin didn’t relent.
Lu Yin, of course, heard her frustrated sighs.
She enjoyed Lin Qianqian’s playful antics, her childish attempts at seduction, knowing Lin Qianqian would never behave like this with anyone else.
They both showed their worst sides to each other, their vulnerabilities exposed, their insecurities laid bare.
During their four years apart, Lu Yin had hated her own insatiable desire for Lin Qianqian, a forbidden longing that made her feel ashamed, her words silenced by her own internal censor.
But it had also fueled her art, her pain transformed into something beautiful, something dark and disturbing, a reflection of her own twisted desires.
And now, it had brought Lin Qianqian back to her, her every action, every word, a source of both frustration and fascination, her frustrated groan a sweet melody to Lu Yin’s ears.
Lu Yin opened the door again, and Lin Qianqian, caught off guard, stumbled forward, Lu Yin catching her before she fell.
Lu Yin smirked. “In that video you watched, does the younger one always play hard to get?”
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