Chapter 43

“What wine? Coming to school reeking of alcohol—are you trying to follow in Teacher Du’s footsteps and write a three-thousand-word self-criticism?”

She absolutely did not want that.

“No. I didn’t drink a single drop, but they drank plenty, so my clothes picked up a bit of the smell. If Teacher Lin doesn’t believe me, you can check.”

With that, Lou Yixuan obligingly opened her mouth.

It wasn’t that she really wanted Lin Huayan to sniff her breath; it was just a gesture to prove she wasn’t lying.

“There was a car to take me there and back, but my car’s still in the garage—I have to drive it home.”

“Mm.” Lin Huayan believed her. “Be more careful in the future. Don’t come into the classroom stinking of booze. As teachers, we must lead by example.”

“Got it, Director Lin. I’ll heed your advice.”

Having dodged the bullet, Lou Yixuan breathed a sigh of relief, her expression relaxing. “Thanks for covering my shift tonight, Teacher Lin. It didn’t interfere with your other work, did it?”

As she spoke, she brushed back a stray lock of hair, giving Lin Huayan an even clearer view of the new ring on her left index finger.

The Flowing Light Diamond Ring.

Just a few hours earlier that afternoon, it had been on that Gold Pavilion Master’s finger.

Kinla—Chinese name, Jin Yilin.

That afternoon, she’d scoured every scrap of information available online about Jin Yilin.

Divorced and single for six years, with a daughter from her previous marriage. On the latest Australia rich list, Jin Yilin ranked ninth.

How much was that diamond ring worth, the one she’d worn to a business meeting?

Five figures?

Six figures?

Or seven?

From someone as noble and upright as her—and fabulously wealthy to boot—it was probably even more.

In terms of wealth, resources, manpower, influence…

Just standing there right now, Lin Huayan was already utterly defeated.

“Since you have an early flight tomorrow morning, go home and rest, Teacher Lou. I won’t keep you. See you next week.”

She turned and left as soon as the words were out, so quickly that by the time Lou Yixuan snapped out of it, she was already at the stairwell.

Lou Yixuan chased after her but stopped after a few jogging steps. She gazed down the empty hallway and murmured softly, “See you next week, Lin Huayan.”

…

On Friday night, true to her word, Lin Huayan went to the hotel where Qin Fengru was staying and kept her company until midnight.

Back at her first wedding, they were just young women in their twenties.

Qin Fengru was fiercely independent—she didn’t need to be the best at everything, but she demanded to have it all. So she’d gone trendy and lined up six bridesmaids, with Lin Huayan as one of them.

Lin Huayan had been reluctant, but Qin Fengru’s mix of soft and hard tactics wore her down until she agreed.

Then, on the eve of the wedding, Lin Huayan bailed.

She’d only sent a message: [Practice your rehearsal properly. I’ll be there tomorrow as your off-site cheerleader.]

It had infuriated Qin Fengru, who didn’t give her the cold shoulder for months afterward.

That was the only time guilt-ridden Lin Huayan had gone to great lengths to coax her back.

If she hadn’t, they probably would’ve drifted apart long ago, and there’d be no unshakeable sisterly bond today.

This wedding wasn’t a grand affair.

Compared to that one years ago, it was far more low-key in terms of ceremony—just close family and friends from both sides, no coworkers, and only one bridesmaid.

But the standards were lavish.

“Director Lin, you gonna make it? You’re already here—crash with me tonight! Look at this bed, two meters wide. I could do somersaults and not touch you. Besides, I only devour young studs, not old ladies like you. What’s there to be scared of?”

Once the tedious tasks were done, Qin Fengru started teasing Lin Huayan again.

She wouldn’t book her own room, wouldn’t share the big bed—just insisted on driving home at midnight and coming back at five a.m.

That left barely three hours of sleep.

Qin Fengru worried her body couldn’t take the strain.

“…” Lin Huayan tuned out the dirty joke, sitting on the sofa and searching for art exhibition info.

Yesterday afternoon, Lou Yixuan had posted on Moments: three photos from the exhibition opening.

One group shot in front of a themed mural, one of her and Kinla together, and one of her exhibited artwork.

In the photos, Lou Yixuan wore a French black square-neck gown with pure white chiffon lantern sleeves. The skirt hem brushed her calves, paired with shallow apricot-white crystal-embellished heels.

Her long wavy hair was simply styled, accented by a sparkling silver hair accessory on the left that matched her shoes, revealing her exquisite, elfin ears.

Standing beside the queenly Kinla, she looked every bit the little princess surrounded by stars.

How to describe that feeling?

Lin Huayan had never felt so ashamed of her own inferiority, so gripped by panic and unease.

The frail sapling that used to shelter under her umbrella had grown into a lush, flourishing tree under someone else’s care, blooming its most beautiful flowers.

And what about her?

The little rain she’d once shielded her from—had it already been erased as insignificant, along with all their shared past?

Scattered like smoke on the wind.

“Lin Huayan, are you even listening?” Qin Fengru snapped, hurling a pillow at her.

The pillow hit Lin Huayan’s knee and fell. She picked it up and tossed it back onto the bed. “Bored? Go to sleep. Can’t sleep? Watch some shows.”

Qin Fengru grabbed another pillow to throw, but Lin Huayan held up a hand. “Quiet—it’s Mom calling.”

It was past eleven. Why call so late?

“Hello, Mom?”

“Huayan, you still up?”

“Yeah.”

“If I remember right, Fengru’s wedding is this weekend?”

“Mm, tomorrow.”

“So you’re with her tonight?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, good. Can you pass the phone to her? Mom wants to wish her ‘happy marriage’ in person.”

“Sure.”

Lin Huayan stood, walked to the bed, and handed over the phone. “Mom wants to congratulate you.”

Of all her friends, her parents only knew Qin Fengru.

She was the only friend who’d eaten at their home a few times, a pro at charming elders—always leaving her mom beaming ear to ear.

“Hello, Auntie, it’s Fengru.” Qin Fengru took the phone with warm familiarity.

That drawn-out “Auntie” sounded more affectionate than Lin Huayan’s own curt “Mom.”

“Fengru, happy marriage! Auntie and Uncle wish you and your love a lifetime together, full of devotion and health. Work matters, but health comes first, got it?”

Zhou Chunping knew Qin Fengru’s ex had died of illness, so she emphasized health in her blessings.

“Thanks, Auntie. I know. You and Uncle take care too. If Huayan dares upset you, tell me—I’ll give her a scolding.”

They exchanged numbers and WeChat contacts, but Qin Fengru usually just sent holiday greetings. Zhou Chunping rarely asked favors.

She remembered clearly: around their early thirties, Zhou Chunping had enlisted her help.

To scout suitable matches for Lin Huayan and help persuade her.

After her husband passed, she’d been grief-stricken and listless for a couple years.

Plus Lin Huayan’s ironclad refusal to date or marry—rejecting every blind date—Zhou Chunping stopped asking.

“Auntie does have a favor to ask.”

“Don’t stand on ceremony with me, Auntie. Just say it—I’m great at helping out.”

As she spoke, she winked at Lin Huayan and pointed to the sofa—go sit over there; she needed to chat privately with Auntie.

Zhou Chunping wasn’t boundary-blind; any favor she’d voice would concern Lin Huayan.

Lin Huayan had no interest in eavesdropping. She walked alone to the floor-to-ceiling window.

Gazing at the city lights outside, she couldn’t help wondering: Had Lou Yixuan shared a room with Kinla these past two nights? Slept in the same bed? Done things even more intimate than that afternoon in the conference room…

Qin Fengru and Zhou Chunping spoke only briefly; Lin Huayan barely heard her friend talk.

“Here, Auntie has more to say to you.” Qin Fengru got up from the bed and handed back the phone.

After the handoff, Qin Fengru twisted toward the bathroom—to calm the storm Zhou Chunping had stirred, to process the confirmation of her earlier suspicion.

“Mom, it’s me.”

“Ah, Huayan. One more thing: Your dad and I are doing great lately. Don’t come home this weekend—especially not over New Year’s break. Stay away.”

Lin Huayan’s brow furrowed. “Did they show up crying again?”

Zhou Chunping sighed wearily. “Liu Yunfen’s tactics—you know her. Does she ever give up easily? She dragged Qingqing along to plead—one part crying, two parts begging, three parts making a scene. It’s exhausting. Out of sight, out of mind. Don’t come back; avoid running into her.”

“I’m sorry…” Helpless isolation crashed over her again, like a tsunami dragging her into an abyss of ruins and rubble.

Joy and sorrow never hers to choose.

She should just rot in those ruins.

Drift through life in a haze.

Then there’d be nothing left for those vampires to leech.

“Huayan? Huayan? You listening?”

Zhou Chunping called several times before Lin Huayan managed a faint “Mm.”

“You’re my daughter—don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong; no apologies needed. Mom’s fine with it. If they stir trouble over New Year’s, I’ll book a tour group to dodge them—leave your dad to deal. Or we go together? Not a group tour—somewhere seaside? Or north? Big winter, though; better a warm spot…”

“Okay, seaside. I’ll book the tickets. You don’t worry about a thing. Bring Dad—depart New Year’s Eve night.”

“Perfect!” Zhou Chunping agreed gleefully, overjoyed. “I’ll tell your dad now.”

“Mm. Goodnight.”

Lin Huayan hung up just as Qin Fengru emerged from the bathroom, sheet mask on her face. “Call done? Then scram—you’re cramping my style. Slap on a mask at home too; don’t show up tomorrow with bags under your eyes.”

“It’s not midnight yet.” She’d promised to stay till twelve.

“What midnight? I’m not scared of ghosts. My mom’s next door anyway—if anything, I’ll yell for her.”

Qin Fengru sat on the bed’s edge, pressing her face to absorb the essence. “Don’t be late tomorrow. Makeup on point, nice outfit, look lively and festive. Reasonable, right?”

“…Reasonable.”

Lin Huayan grabbed her bag and left.

On Saturday, at the wedding banquet, Qin Fengru seated Lin Huayan at a table of prime single men and women.

To all her friends except Lin Huayan, she’d declared: My wedding’s also your exclusive blind-date bash. Young and old, single gals and guys—don’t hold back. Spot someone you like, man or woman? Drink up, flirt hard. Let’s pair ’em off!

Lin Huayan had been in a funk all week and drank freely, refusing no one.

After the newlyweds toasted every table, Qin Fengru ditched her fresh young groom and joined Lin Huayan’s table for the fun.

No one knew Lin Huayan like she did.

Only deep gloom could make her drink herself silly like this—no one else could.

Just this once.

Let her cut loose.

A few people tried adding Lin Huayan on WeChat—all shot down. Just drinks, no friends. Off this table, I know no one.

The more she said it, the more they swarmed.

In the end, few could outdrink her.

Most at the table were down; Lin Huayan still held on, toasting herself.

Qin Fengru couldn’t watch. She snatched the glass. “Enough, Old Lin—you’ll make yourself sick.”

Back in October, Lin Huayan had wanted to get blackout drunk; she hadn’t joined. Today made up for it.

“I can’t leave yet. I’ll have my cousin drive you home.”

Qin Fengru pulled out a wet wipe and handed it to Lin Huayan to clean her hands. “Don’t worry, my cousin’s reliable. She doesn’t smoke or drink, she’s a pretty girl working at the hospital—a medical PhD with both looks and brains. Only 29, just like you, never had a boyfriend. Her parents are worried sick.”

Lin Huayan said nothing, her brows furrowing tighter and tighter.

Her head throbbed, thoughts sluggish, but she just knew Qin Fengru was up to no good.

Before long, the cousin Qin Fengru had called arrived.

Qin Fengru had already explained the situation, so she went straight to Lin Huayan’s other side. “Teacher Lin, let me take you home on behalf of my cousin.”

But Lin Huayan’s stomach churned violently. She dodged Qin Fengru on her right—only to vomit all over the woman on her left.

“Sorry, sorry, I… I’m so sorry…”

Lin Huayan wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, apologizing over and over.

“…?!!”

Even Qin Fengru was a bit shocked. She hurriedly shoved tissues at Lin Huayan with one hand while tugging her cousin with the other.

“Cousin, don’t get mad, don’t be upset—I’ll make it up to you, right now. You, you go to the bathroom first. I’ll have your brother-in-law—no, your aunt—bring you some clothes.”

The young woman kept her cool and didn’t get angry, though she was undoubtedly annoyed.

She took off her soiled jacket, but her pants and shoes had gotten splattered too.

Just treat it like dealing with a patient, she told herself.

“Take care of your friend, cousin. I’ll handle the clothes myself. And please tell your friend it’s no big deal—no need to feel bad.”

With that, she left. Qin Fengru shook her head inwardly: What a great cousin. And Lin Blockhead doesn’t even know how to cherish the fair sex.

She ground her molars, exasperated at Lin Huayan’s incompetence, and patted her back while scolding, “You really did it this time, Lin Huayan—that was my own cousin! If you didn’t want her to drive you, you didn’t have to puke all over her. What am I supposed to say to you? That was so rude—if word gets out, you’ll become a laughingstock.”

But seeing her good friend’s pitiful state, her scolding softened into gentle persuasion.

“I’ve got a ton on my plate—no time to babysit you. So why don’t you tell me? Who do you want to call to take you home? You’ve got those girlfriends at school you get along with, right? A little thing like this, and you’re Lin the Big Director—just say the word, and they’ll come running.”

Who did she want to call?

Could she really call whoever she wanted?

After a dazed, bewildered moment, Lin Huayan pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts—to Teacher Lou.

She jabbed at the screen and ordered Qin Fengru, “You call her. I want her to come get me.”

“…” She was actually calling someone?!

Teacher Lou?

Qin Fengru’s interest piqued at the name on the screen.

She was curious to see just what kind of girl this was—what kind of person could make Old Man Zhang remember her at first sight, and leave Lin Blockhead so besotted time and again.