Chapter 5

Lou Yixuan arrived up the mountain on the fifth day of military training. Before coming, she had called Lin Huayan, who met her at the base gate.

The gate was still some distance from the parking lot. “Teacher Lin, can you ride with me to the parking lot?”

Lin Huayan glanced at the brand-new white sedan Lou Yixuan had driven up in, hesitated for a few seconds, then walked around to the passenger side and got in.

“It’s a new car, but I’ve had my license for years—an international one,” Lou Yixuan said as she turned the wheel to the right, chatting with Lin Huayan. “My driving skills are decent.”

This second reunion, and already sitting in Lou Yixuan’s passenger seat—it filled Lin Huayan with a sense of emotion.

During the three years they had been next-door neighbors, Lin Huayan visited infrequently in the first year, and chance encounters barely counted.

Starting from the second year, when Lou Yixuan was in her sophomore year, Lin Huayan basically lived there every day and ran into Lou Yixuan every few days.

Lou Yixuan was always alone. So was she.

Occasionally—very occasionally—Lou Yixuan would greet her with a “good morning” when they met at the elevator in the early dawn, or exchange pleasantries late at night downstairs, like “You work so hard—take care of yourself.”

On average, out of every five encounters, the girl carried her art bag three times.

Lin Huayan wasn’t good at small talk, especially with a girl so much younger than her; she had nothing much to say.

She was “afraid” the girl was a student at No. 1 Middle School, afraid that once their teacher-student relationship at the same school came out, the girl would feel awkward around her.

Who would want to live next door to their teacher, after all?

The turning point came after the midterms in the first semester of sophomore year. For some reason, the girl had argued with her mother. As the mother stormed out, slamming the door, Lin Huayan happened to step out of the elevator.

From her attire alone, Lin Huayan could tell the girl’s mother was a sharp, successful career woman.

Blazing fast at work didn’t necessarily mean smooth sailing in life.

She had only run into her a few times on weekends; with their personalities, they couldn’t even manage a nodding acquaintance.

Lin Huayan walked to her door. The girl’s door stood wide open.

She instinctively glanced inside—not out of gossip, but from a vague worry.

The girl leaned woodenly against the shoe cabinet, sucking on her right index finger, while the entryway floor was littered with torn-up books and test papers.

The moment their eyes met, the girl yanked her finger back in panic and crouched down to pick up the scraps.

Seeing the white fragments stained red, Lin Huayan realized the girl sucking her finger wasn’t some odd habit or tic.

She didn’t interrupt the girl’s frantic cleanup, nor did she ask questions or offer comfort. Instead, she quietly opened her own door, went inside, and closed it.

About five or six minutes later, she knocked on the girl’s door with iodine and bandages in hand.

That afternoon, the usually gentle, smiling, quiet girl buried her face in a sofa cushion, clutched Lin Huayan’s clothes, and sobbed her heart out.

Lin Huayan didn’t pry into what had upset her and her mother. The girl didn’t pour out her grievances either.

One cried to vent; the other silently stayed by her side.

In those twenty minutes—shorter than a class break, with barely any words exchanged between them—their distant hearts drew noticeably closer.

On Monday at school, Lin Huayan got notice to substitute for the class next door for a week.

Halfway through the lesson, she realized the girl next door wasn’t just a student at their school—she was in the same grade, in the class right next to the one Lin Huayan taught.

In class, the girl kept her head deliberately low, impossible to tell if she was listening and taking notes or spacing out.

Lin Huayan didn’t pull any “childish” teacher moves, like calling on her to answer a question.

If the girl wanted to avoid her, she’d play along and pretend not to know her.

After school that evening, Lin Huayan walked home alone. Halfway there, the girl suddenly popped out from behind a big tree, startling her.

—Teacher Lin.

—Mm. Waiting for me?

—Are you mad? I didn’t tell you I was in the class next door.

—No. It’s a small thing; don’t dwell on it.

—So, did you just find out today, or had you seen me at school before and already recognized me?

—Today. Never noticed you before.

They walked in silence for a stretch before Lou Yixuan quickened her pace, turned back, and handed over her student ID. “Lou Yixuan—my name.”

Lin Huayan took the ID, studied which characters made up “Lou Yixuan,” then handed it back. “Got it memorized.”

Lou Yixuan asked softly, “Does walking the same way make you uncomfortable?”

No student had ever asked a teacher if they felt uncomfortable. No student had ever asked Lin Huayan if she felt uncomfortable—just from sharing a route. Walking with a stern math teacher like her—you’d be the one feeling awkward.

Hearing that, Lou Yixuan finally relaxed, her dimples flashing.

She walked backward lightly, gracefully. “Teacher Lin, I respect you, but I’m not afraid of you. Not uncomfortable anywhere—on the contrary, I’m happy.”

—Happy about what?

—Happy… that from now on, I don’t have to dodge you on the way to or from school. We can walk this stretch together.

—Walk properly.

—Got it! Teacher Lin.

That night, Lin Huayan heard about the girl’s family situation.

Her father was overseas. Her mother had rented a place nearby for her schooling and painting convenience—a two-bedroom, two-living-room apartment.

Hongding Court was school district housing, nearly twenty years old. Owner occupancy wasn’t high; most units were rented out.

Lin Huayan’s was a small one-bedroom, one-living-room unit.

Lou Yixuan ate her three meals at school or nearby. Her mother visited on non-busy weekends, taking her shopping at supermarkets or malls, or out for big meals.

What she didn’t say was that her mother had originally wanted to hire an auntie to look after her, but she’d refused.

After that day, they naturally had many more of those “twenty minutes” to draw closer—on the walks to or from school.

By senior year, Lin Huayan had bought a car.

On a certain Monday morning, she pressed the button for “-2” garage level for the first time since moving into Hongding Court.

—Teacher Lin, is it okay if I ride with you to school? Or should I just walk? It’s still early; I won’t be late.

—Don’t overthink it. Be the first in the passenger seat to keep me company on the test drive—scared?

—Of course not.

—Then get in, quick.

Now… Lou Yixuan’s new car, Lou Yixuan’s passenger seat—who would be the first to sit there?

After parking, Lou Yixuan grabbed her phone from the mount, hooked the bag from the back seat over her shoulder, and tucked away the sunglasses perched on her head.

Once they both got out, Lin Huayan finally turned her attention to Lou Yixuan’s energetic outfit for the day.

Black athletic crossbody bag, fitted white T-shirt, loose gray joggers, white-and-purple casual sneakers, and a creamy white smartwatch on her left wrist.

Lin Huayan always felt this look would suit a high ponytail better.

But Lou Yixuan’s hair hung loose down her back as she tossed it. “Teacher Lin isn’t wearing heels today.”

It was the first thing Lou Yixuan said to her after getting out.

Gazed at by the beaming girl, Lin Huayan’s heart started pounding.

“Not on the mountain.”

“Makes sense.”

Having openly sized up the older woman to her heart’s content, Lou Yixuan looked away. Those full lips were even more tempting with lipstick.

The shade…

Seemed the same as before.

Lin Huayan had her right hand in her pocket, left holding her phone, as she led Lou Yixuan toward the training grounds.

She hadn’t tied her hair up today either, letting her straight locks fall over her chest and back. She wore the most casual outfit she’d brought: a floral-gray T-shirt, black straight-leg pants, black flats.

“Is it almost lunchtime?”

Lou Yixuan hadn’t eaten breakfast and had driven nearly two hours; she was starving. “Teacher Lin, I’m hungry. Is there food?”

Her tone and pitch were much more relaxed than their school meeting a few days ago, the distance between them naturally lessened.

“There is. But the taste is pretty average.”

“Instant noodles are fine.”

“…No.”

“Oh.”

Lou Yixuan acquiesced obediently, a smile tugging at her lips she couldn’t suppress. “Whatever Teacher Lin eats, I’ll eat. That okay?”

Lin Huayan walked faster and missed the smile, but Lou Yixuan’s slightly coquettish words gave her goosebumps, making her steps even larger.

—Teacher Lin, that okay?

The last time she’d heard those words was on Lou Yixuan’s bed, right against her own heart.

Teachers’ mealtimes were half an hour earlier than the students’, but their food was the same as the students’.

The base didn’t have special perks for teachers; they weren’t here on vacation, after all.

Before they reached the cafeteria, Du Heming’s call came through.

“Teacher Lin, picked up little Teacher Lou yet?”

“Mm.”

“Then hurry to the cafeteria and eat. The food looks decent today.”

“On our way.”

Hanging up, Lin Huayan slowed her pace and turned to Lou Yixuan. “For lunch later, you already know Teacher Du. The other two women teachers: the older one is the homeroom teacher for Class 2, Wang Li—Teacher Wang, history. The one about my age is the homeroom for Class 5, He Huan—Teacher He, Chinese language.”

There were nine classes in the freshman year, four with female homeroom teachers.

Lin Huayan and He Huan shared a room; Du Heming and Wang Li shared another.

“Teacher He is also our class’s Chinese teacher. I’ve mentioned you to them, so just greet them later—no need for full intros.”

“Got it, thanks, Teacher Lin.”

Lou Yixuan closed her eyes gently and took a deep breath. “The air up here is so fresh… and a bit sweet.”

Her voice wasn’t too loud or soft—Lin Huayan heard perfectly.

If not for Lou Yixuan’s gaze drifting to her on that “a bit sweet,” Lin Huayan might have sniffed the air herself to check how it was “sweet.”

—Teacher Lin, do you smell that? There’s a unique, captivating scent in these mountains.

—You’re describing some tree, or grass, or flower, right?

—I’m talking about Lin Huayan’s scent.

—Getting bolder. Why do you like calling my name so much?

—I like it.

But Yixuan, not every “like” can be indulged. You might not be able to bear the consequences of “losing.”

Maybe losing someone important, maybe dignity or status… or maybe losing yourself.

Those words, buried deep back then, Lin Huayan still hadn’t forgotten.

She endured the dull ache in her chest, repeatedly warning herself not to overthink. “Pick up the pace; don’t keep them waiting.”

…

In the cafeteria, to welcome the newcomer Lou Yixuan and chat easily, Du Heming suggested the female teachers sit at a separate table.

A male teacher teased, “Teacher Du, aren’t you into little Teacher Lou? Trying to get the moon first by being near the water tower?”

Du Heming’s preference for women was known to pretty much everyone in the grade group.

The more openly these jokes flew, the more it showed same-sex relationships gaining acceptance in society.

“Don’t talk nonsense—what if little Teacher Lou has a partner?”

“See? I told you. Teacher Du’s blushing. Now I’m curious: how stunning is this art teacher to captivate our Du Teacher after just one meeting?”

As they bantered, Lin Huayan and Lou Yixuan walked in side by side.

Du Heming hurriedly signaled the young male teacher to zip it, then waved toward the door. “Teacher Lin, Teacher Lou—over here.”

Lin Huayan nodded and led Lou Yixuan to the serving window for trays and food.

Looking at the bland, watery dishes, Lou Yixuan’s appetite plummeted. “Teacher Lin, any recommendations?”

This one stumped Lin Huayan.

She had a rough idea of what Lou Yixuan liked, but the base cafeteria fare…

Seeing her silent, Lou Yixuan’s eyes dimmed.

“Hello, one of this, please.” Lou Yixuan pointed at the mapo tofu, but the server mistakenly scooped the eggplant with minced meat next to it.

“Anything else?” the server asked, spoon at the ready.

“Mapo tofu, fish-flavored pork shreds, dry-fried string beans. Thanks.” Lin Huayan slid her own tray forward.

Once all three dishes were plated, she handed her tray to Lou Yixuan. “Give me yours.”

Lou Yixuan stared blankly at the tray thrust before her eyes, her throat tightening as if clogged by something.

She doesn’t eat eggplant.

Lin Huayan… still remembers.

It wasn’t until Lin Huayan whisked away the tray loaded with eggplant that Lou Yixuan accepted the swapped one, flashing her signature smile. “Thank you, Teacher Lin.”