Chapter 69
Waking up on New Year’s Day with swollen eyes, Lin Qianqian found Lu Yin already gone.
Last night’s dinner sat untouched on the table, its appearance less than appetizing after sitting out all night.
Lu Yin’s phone wasn’t there, and when Lin Qianqian called her, the ringing came from the bathroom.
“Want me to reheat this?” she asked, as Lu Yin emerged from the bathroom.
“No. I’m going to the institution.”
“But it’s New Year’s Day! Why are you going to work?”
Lin Qianqian blinked, her eyes stinging, the memory of last night, her failure to be there at midnight, a heavy weight in her chest. She had woken up several times during the night, her mind racing with plans to make amends, to spend more time with Lu Yin.
“Are you angry because I lied last night?” she asked, wanting to clear the air. It was the New Year, and she didn’t want to waste time on petty arguments.
“No,” Lu Yin said, her expression giving nothing away.
“If you are, I’ll do anything you want. Anything,” Lin Qianqian said, her voice sincere. This wasn’t a playful tease, not a childish demand. This was about their past, the mistakes she had made, the pain she had caused. She didn’t want to repeat the past, didn’t want to lose Lu Yin again.
But Lu Yin seemed unfazed, her demeanor calm and relaxed, as if it were an insignificant detail, a minor inconvenience.
And that was even more unsettling. Four years ago, during their last argument, Lu Yin had been like this, her outward calm masking a deeper pain, her heart already closed off, her decision to leave irrevocable.
The more Lu Yin downplayed it, the more anxious Lin Qianqian became.
“Someone has to be at the institution during the holidays. It’s my turn,” Lu Yin said. “I was going to tell you last night, but I didn’t have time.”
Lin Qianqian looked at the untouched food on the table, her heart sinking.
She had put so much effort into preparing the meal, Lu Yin’s guidance transforming her clumsy attempts into something edible, something almost delicious.
And now, it was all wasted.
“Can I come with you?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, her disappointment hidden beneath a mask of casual indifference.
New Year’s was about family, and Lu Yin was her only family now.
“Stay home,” Lu Yin said.
Lin Qianqian wanted to argue, to protest, but Lu Yin’s expression silenced her.
She picked up her chopsticks and ate a cold dumpling. “It’s really good…” she mumbled, hoping Lu Yin would understand her unspoken plea.
“Should I reheat it for you?” Lu Yin asked, still not understanding, or perhaps pretending not to.
Lin Qianqian shook her head, defeated. “Come home early,” she whispered.
Lu Yin’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment, then she took her keys and left.
Lin Qianqian listened to the sound of the closing door, a sigh escaping her lips, her voice a low murmur.
“You’re obviously angry about last night, but you won’t tell me…what’s the point…?”
She wanted to tell Lu Yin everything, to confess her fears, her insecurities, her confusion.
She needed guidance, and Lu Yin was the only person she trusted.
If Lu Yin refused to listen, she didn’t know what she would do.
The snow from the previous night had covered the ground in a thick white blanket, the roads icy and treacherous.
Lu Yin started the car and made a phone call.
She didn’t mind being on duty. If Yu Miao had assigned her, she would have accepted, their time together at the institution no different from their time at home.
But now, she needed distance from Lin Qianqian, afraid of her own weakness, her inability to resist Lin Qianqian’s touch, her tears.
She had lost all sense of objectivity, her actions, her decisions, now driven solely by Lin Qianqian’s needs, her desires.
And Lin Qianqian’s mother was a complication she couldn’t ignore, her concern for Lin Qianqian’s feelings overriding her own judgment.
She would deal with Lin Yun first, then return to Lin Qianqian, her heart, her mind, finally at peace.
The holidays were meaningless. Being with Lin Qianqian was all that mattered.
“Zhang Jie, thank you for helping me,” she said, her voice bright and cheerful, as the call connected. “I need you to investigate the transactions on this bank card. I’ve already sent you the cardholder’s information.”
“Yes, she’s my mother. From my father’s second marriage.”
“Let me know if you need anything else.”
She drove to the institution, receiving the document just as she arrived.
She went to the office, greeted the duty staff, and printed the transaction records.
“Teacher Lu, what are you doing here on New Year’s Day?” the staff member asked.
“Keeping you company,” Lu Yin said, smiling. “If anyone asks for me, tell them I’m on duty, but you don’t know where I am.”
The staff member nodded, not asking any questions.
Lu Yin thanked her and went back to her car, her gaze scanning the document.
The initial balance had been several million yuan, with a recent deposit of nearly ten million, the proceeds from the sale of the house.
The expenses were mostly designer clothes, shoes, and bags.
She scrolled through the long list of transactions, noticing several purchases of children’s clothing, boys’ clothing, and a men’s watch worth six figures.
She found the order number and called the store, confirming the purchase, providing Lin Yun’s information, and the sales assistant, assuming she was Lin Yun’s daughter, wished her a happy new year with her family.
A family?
When had Lin Yun acquired a husband and a son?
The man’s name, Su something, sounded familiar. A businessman, perhaps, one of the many wealthy entrepreneurs in the city.
She had met many business owners through the institution, but she couldn’t place the name. She decided not to dwell on it, her mind already racing with another, more pressing concern.
She drove to the private hospital, a sudden realization hitting her as she saw the building. She remembered who Su was.
“Teacher Lu, visiting a hospital on New Year’s Day? Not very festive, is it?” Zhong Shiwu asked, looking up from her desk. “Do you think this is a shelter? Coming here every time you have a fight with Lin Qianqian?”
“I need your help,” Lu Yin said, handing her the transaction records, pointing at the name. “This man has a son who was treated here for ADHD. Do you remember him?”
“I’ve treated many children with ADHD. I can’t possibly remember all of them,” Zhong Shiwu said, her gaze scanning the long list of transactions, surprised by Lu Yin’s sudden interest in Lin Yun’s finances. “Living the high life, isn’t she? Designer clothes, a husband, a son…”
Lu Yin ignored her teasing. “But you don’t blacklist many patients, do you, Doctor Zhong?”
Zhong Shiwu paused, the memory resurfacing, a wry smile on her face. “You have a good memory for such trivial things.”
The boy, young and unruly, had caused chaos in her office, even knocking over one of her prized watches.
Lu Yin had been there for a follow-up appointment, witnessing the scene.
“Why bring him up now? Are you trying to give me a headache?” Zhong Shiwu asked, checking her phone. “His father asked me to continue his son’s treatment, but I refused.”
She scrolled through her messages. “Oh, congratulations are in order. He got engaged a week ago.”
Seeing the woman’s face in the engagement photo, her smile faded.
She looked at Lu Yin, her gaze questioning, finally understanding her purpose.
“The Su family is just a small-time business. They got lucky,” she said.
“Everyone gets unlucky eventually,” Lu Yin said, her gaze falling on the candies on Zhong Shiwu’s desk, all chocolate liqueur.
Zhong Shiwu followed her gaze, adding a handful of other candies to the bowl.
“True. You never know,” she said, meeting Lu Yin’s gaze. “And you came all this way, on New Year’s Day, just for this?”
“Some things are more important than others,” Lu Yin said, her gaze fixed on the table. “And I can’t rest until this is resolved.”
“Dr. Zhong, I’m not unreasonable,” Lu Yin said after a moment. “My sister needs a social life. She can’t stay cooped up at home all the time. She’s been spending time with her friend lately.”
Zhong Shiwu leaned back in her chair, twirling a pen between her fingers.
Lu Yin was a master manipulator, using everything, everyone, to achieve her goals, from isolating Lin Qianqian to now subtly orchestrating Lin Yun’s downfall.
And Lin Qianqian, oblivious to Lu Yin’s machinations, her trust unwavering, her love a shield against the darkness that surrounded them.
Zhong Shiwu wanted Ming Yao to recover, and encouraging her friendship with Lin Qianqian was the most effective way to do that.
But Lin Qianqian herself was a pawn in Lu Yin’s game, her happiness, her well-being, secondary to Lu Yin’s own desires, her possessive nature a dangerous, destructive force.
And Ming Yao, Lin Qianqian’s true friend, was now an obstacle, a threat to Lu Yin’s control.
“How about we go sketching together sometime?” Zhong Shiwu asked, changing the subject.
“I’ll see. My schedule is quite full after the New Year,” Lu Yin said, her refusal polite but firm.
Zhong Shiwu didn’t press the issue.
“Since you’re here, let’s do a quick check-up,” she said, handing Lu Yin a questionnaire.
Lu Yin hesitated for a moment, then took the pen.
“Have you been taking your medication regularly?” Zhong Shiwu asked, already knowing the answer. “It seems your sister’s supervision is quite effective.”
She didn’t expect Lu Yin to respond, her gaze falling on Lu Yin’s hand, slightly swollen. “Your hand is acting up again? You should get it checked out. The pain isn’t normal.”
“It’s fine,” Lu Yin said, a sharp twinge of pain making her wince, her pen pausing momentarily.
“You can’t ignore it. It could become a chronic problem,” Zhong Shiwu said, picking up her phone. “I’ll contact a hand specialist for you. Get it checked out.”
Lu Yin continued filling out the form in silence, then handed it to Zhong Shiwu.
Zhong Shiwu looked at the form, then at Lu Yin’s face, her gaze searching.
She couldn’t explain possessiveness, perhaps a primal instinct, a remnant of our evolutionary past.
Years of emotional deprivation, of unfulfilled desires, could manifest as a distorted, almost obsessive need for control, for possession.
As a doctor, she knew it was an unhealthy way to express love.
But as a friend, she found herself complicit, her actions enabling Lu Yin’s destructive tendencies.
If she ignored the possessiveness, Lu Yin seemed almost normal, her behavior indistinguishable from that of a typical person in love.
She didn’t want to discuss it with Lu Yin, who would simply dismiss it, her focus solely on Lin Qianqian, her love a blinding force, her reason for living.
“I’ll contact the hand specialist for you. Don’t refuse,” she said, her voice gentle, changing the subject.
“I think the spray and the pain relief capsules are working fine,” Lu Yin said, dismissing Zhong Shiwu’s offer, then looking at her hand, “It was very swollen a few days ago, but it’s better now.”
Zhong Shiwu chuckled. “The power of love, perhaps?”
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