Chapter 72
Lin Qianqian, true to her word, packed a nearly empty suitcase and checked into a nearby hotel.
Lu Yin followed her, watching as she checked in, her movements slow and deliberate, as if daring Lu Yin to leave, to abandon her.
They rode the elevator in silence, the tension between them a palpable force, Lin Qianqian’s playful provocation now a serious test of Lu Yin’s patience, her love.
Lu Yin stood at the doorway, the door slightly ajar, a silent invitation, a challenge.
She closed the door and knocked.
Lin Qianqian, lying on the bed, her heart pounding, heard the knock and relaxed.
She had thought Lu Yin was leaving.
She jumped out of bed, opened the door, and feigned surprise. “Oh, it’s you,” she said, her voice flat.
“Who else would it be?” Lu Yin asked, her gaze fixed on Lin Qianqian’s face. “Aren’t you going to invite me in?”
“You can come in, but you have to hide in the closet,” Lin Qianqian said, lying back down on the bed, yawning dramatically. “I’m expecting a visitor. It wouldn’t be appropriate for you to be here.”
Lu Yin watched her, her hand lifting the hem of her shirt, her waist exposed, then covered, then exposed again, a playful tease, a subtle invitation.
“We have a hotel room. It would be a waste not to…enjoy it, don’t you think? And it wasn’t cheap,” Lin Qianqian said, checking her phone. “Where is she? She’s late.”
“Lin Qian, don’t push me,” Lu Yin said, her voice low, her gaze unwavering.
Lin Qianqian jumped out of bed, her bare feet cold against the floor, and stood before Lu Yin, her gaze meeting Lu Yin’s, her voice a demanding whisper. “Then do it with me.”
Her hand moved to Lu Yin’s waist, sliding upwards, her fingers tracing the lines of Lu Yin’s arm, her neck, her touch a silent plea.
She leaned closer, her breath warm against Lu Yin’s collarbone.
Lu Yin swatted her hand away, her expression unchanged.
Lin Qianqian’s hand retreated, and she sat back down on the bed, her voice filled with a childish petulance. “Then tell me! What did I do wrong? And why did you lie about being on duty at the institution?”
Lu Yin had to give her something, an answer, or a release, a fulfillment of her desires.
“Fine, I know I shouldn’t have snuck out on New Year’s Eve, but…” she paused, unable to offer a valid excuse.
If Lu Yin were truly angry, she wouldn’t be so calm, her words so gentle. She would be cold and distant, her touch withdrawn, her silence a punishment.
She just wanted Lu Yin to be honest with her, but her attempts at manipulation always led back to their last encounter, the unresolved tension, the unspoken desires.
And the guilt, the regret, always silenced her, her bravado fading, her questions replaced by apologies.
The silence stretched between them, the air thick with unspoken emotions.
Lu Yin wasn’t going to tell her, and Lin Qianqian knew it.
She had tried everything: asking directly, visiting the institution, even talking to Zhong Shiwu.
Knowing Lu Yin’s past, her pain, only intensified her need to protect her, to help her heal.
But her efforts had backfired, their relationship now a tangled mess of unanswered questions and unfulfilled desires.
“Let’s do it,” she said, her voice a husky whisper, walking over to Lu Yin, her gaze meeting Lu Yin’s. “Do you want to?”
She wanted to lose herself in the pleasure, the physical sensations a way to escape the awkwardness, the tension, the unanswered questions.
“Not everything can be solved in bed,” Lu Yin said, her brow furrowing as she looked at Lin Qianqian’s tear-filled eyes.
“But you won’t talk to me!” Lin Qianqian cried, her voice rising in frustration. “Since I moved in, have you ever told me how you feel? I have to guess! You don’t tell me what’s bothering you, you don’t tell me when you’re sick, you treat me like a sister, but do you even see me as a lover?”
She felt helpless, Lu Yin’s unspoken feelings a constant source of both hope and despair.
The problem, she knew, was her own. She couldn’t escape the guilt, the need to make amends for her past actions, her abandonment of Lu Yin.
She could only offer her love, her support, but Lu Yin refused to be vulnerable, her heart a fortress, her emotions hidden behind a mask of indifference.
“I don’t know what to do anymore…” Lin Qianqian sank to the floor, her sobs muffled by her hands, her tears blurring her vision. “I can’t understand you…”
“I didn’t know if you hated me because of who I was…and I still don’t know what you’re thinking…” she whispered, her voice thick with tears.
She didn’t like being so demanding, so childish, her insecurities a constant burden, but only with Lu Yin did she allow herself to be vulnerable, her tears a plea for reassurance, for love.
And Lu Yin, so adept at hiding her emotions, her true self a mystery, only revealed her affection through her actions, her patience, her forgiveness.
Lin Qianqian believed she was the closest person to Lu Yin, yet she couldn’t decipher her thoughts, her motivations.
Even on Christmas Eve, Lu Yin had only offered her an escape, a way out, her words a cold reminder of their complicated history.
She knew Lu Yin’s past, her pain, and she understood now that if she had hesitated that night, if she hadn’t embraced Lu Yin, hadn’t kissed her, Lu Yin might have retreated further into the darkness, her self-destructive tendencies a constant threat.
Lu Yin lifted her from the floor, her touch gentle, her voice soft. “Tell me,” she whispered, “what are you afraid of?”
Lin Qianqian looked at her, her eyes searching Lu Yin’s face, her own fears finally surfacing, the words pouring out of her, a torrent of emotions she could no longer contain.
“No one wants me. Do you want me?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, the question a vulnerable plea, the answer both known and unknown.
She couldn’t change her past, her connection to Lin Yun, a biological imperative, but she could choose her present, her future.
Lin Yun was a stranger, their relationship devoid of warmth, of love, but the finality of their separation, the realization that she had been abandoned, discarded, was still a painful blow, her pride wounded, her insecurities amplified.
If it had been anything else, she would have lashed out at Lu Yin, her anger a shield against her own vulnerability, but she couldn’t, not with this, not with the risk of triggering Lu Yin’s darker impulses, her self-destructive tendencies.
And so, she had kept her pain hidden, her silence a burden, Lu Yin’s every subtle shift in mood, her every withdrawn touch, a source of anxiety, a fear of losing her, of being alone again.
“My mother…she doesn’t want me anymore…when I left the hospital that night, I saw her get into a car with another man, and a little boy called her ‘Mom’…” Lin Qianqian sobbed, her voice breaking. “She never spoke to me like that, with such kindness…I barely even saw her…why? Why…?”
Was it because she wasn’t rich? Because she couldn’t offer a life of luxury and privilege?
Or had she always been a burden, an obstacle to Lin Yun’s social ambitions?
“Sister…” she clung to Lu Yin, her tears hot against Lu Yin’s skin. “She sold the house, gave me ten thousand yuan like it was some kind of charity, but I didn’t take it. It was yours. I threw the card away…”
“She wants to cut ties with me. I don’t want to see her again…” Lin Qianqian’s voice was barely a whisper, her tears a torrent of pain and regret. “I really…I only have you…”
Before Lu Yin, she had been alone, living in a dilapidated apartment, too young to know how to cook, surviving on instant noodles and cheap steamed buns, her hunger a constant companion.
Lu Yin had shown her a different world, a world of warmth and affection, of shared meals and playful banter, a world where she was loved, cherished, her childish antics indulged, her laughter a welcome sound.
And now, that world, that love, felt uncertain, precarious, and the thought of losing it, of being alone again, was unbearable.
“Do you still want me…?” she asked, her voice trembling, needing reassurance, needing Lu Yin’s love, her acceptance, more than anything else in the world.
“What are you talking about?” Lu Yin asked, her voice soft, her fingers gently wiping away Lin Qianqian’s tears. “Of course I want you.”
“Really…?” Lin Qianqian asked, her voice barely audible, her need for reassurance, for validation, a constant ache.
“Of course,” Lu Yin chuckled. “How many times do you need to ask?”
“I’ll ask as many times as I want!” Lin Qianqian said, her eyes still red, her gaze meeting Lu Yin’s. “And you’re not allowed to say anything I don’t want to hear!”
Lu Yin’s voice softened, her patience unwavering. “Okay, ask as many times as you want.”
She retrieved a damp towel and gently wiped Lin Qianqian’s face, then offered to order food, but most restaurants were closed for the holiday.
She knelt down and took Lin Qianqian’s hand. “Let’s go home, okay? I’ll make you something to eat.”
Lin Qianqian nodded, her voice too hoarse to speak.
“No more running away,” Lu Yin said, her fingers gently tracing the lines of Lin Qianqian’s hand. “If you disappear, where will I find you?”
Lin Qianqian smiled through her tears. “I wasn’t really going to leave…you were the one ignoring me…”
“Okay, it was my fault,” Lu Yin said, taking her hand, her other hand grabbing the suitcase.
“Is your hand okay? I can carry the suitcase,” Lin Qianqian said, taking it from Lu Yin. “I can manage.”
“I was worried you couldn’t.”
Lin Qianqian stamped her foot playfully, her eyes still slightly red. “Do you think I’m that easy to appease?”
Lu Yin chuckled, amused by her childish antics, and they left the hotel.
It wasn’t far from their apartment, and Lu Yin reheated the leftover New Year’s Eve dinner, adding some rice.
They ate in silence, Lin Qianqian too hungry to talk, her focus solely on the food.
Lu Yin, however, was thinking about Lin Qianqian’s words, her revelation about Lin Yun.
It seemed Lin Yun had indeed remarried. The details matched her investigation.
They would be receiving a court summons soon.
She looked at Lin Qianqian, her face illuminated by the soft light, her expression peaceful as she ate, and decided not to tell her.
She wanted Lin Qianqian to live in a world free from worry, from pain, her days filled with joy, her heart light and carefree.
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