Chapter 54

Lou Yixuan finally had a moment to check her WeChat messages. It was one from Lin Huayan: [Where are you guys?]

Before she could even type out the three words [Card Room], the door to the private room creaked open. In walked none other than Lin Huayan.

Lou Yixuan felt like she’d spotted her savior.

Her eyes sparkled brightly, but she bit back the cry of “Teacher Lin” that would have given away her joy.

Lin Huayan, however, kept her head down, eyes glued to her phone.

[Du Heming: Look at Lou Lou’s tiles. She says she “hu’d” 😂]

“Teacher Lin’s here.”

Teacher Wang Li glanced up at Lin Huayan, then shot Lou Yixuan a meaningful look. “Teacher Lin’s a pro at cards. Teacher Lou, why don’t you ask her to sit in and watch your hand? You’re the youngest here and the worst at this—we’re not ganging up on the newbie on purpose, you know.”

“Can I really call in reinforcements? Teacher Lin, please, take my seat?” Lou Yixuan invited her eagerly. Since it was Teacher Wang and the others who suggested it, it should be fine.

But Lin Huayan’s expression and response were ice-cold: “I came to get the room key. Not to play cards.”

Worried about getting held up by colleagues and returning late, they’d left their room key with Lou Yixuan. Lin Huayan had emphasized before she left that Lou Yixuan didn’t need to wait for her.

Who knew Lou Yixuan would end up playing mahjong.

Someone who couldn’t even stick with Lego or blocks, whose math was a constant struggle—she’d somehow learned mahjong?

“Whether you play well or poorly is secondary. Once you’re at the table, you own your wins and losses.”

Lin Huayan’s “lesson” came at just the right moment, dousing the spark that had been growing stronger in Lou Yixuan and reducing her back to her original shape.

Yeah, with all these colleagues around, how could Lin Huayan possibly—how could she—act close to me?

They could sit together at dinner.

But not during card games for fun.

Lin Huayan had boundaries. Lin Huayan’s boundaries had always been there; I’d just forgotten.

It was her fault. She needed to own it.

But why do I want to cry so badly? Why do I want to vent like Du Heming, to shout out my grievances and release all this pent-up negativity?

Instead, she flashed a shallow smile and handed over the room key with utmost deference, looking up at Lin Huayan. “Teacher Lin makes a good point. Lesson learned.”

…

Both tables in the room wrapped up around eleven. Lou Yixuan had lost over eight hundred yuan, while the other three were all winners.

Teacher Wang felt a bit awkward about it.

But Lou Yixuan never lost face throughout. Even after settling the bill, she smiled and said, “Thanks for the lessons, teachers. I’ve improved, and the tuition fee can cover tea for everyone.”

The teacher who’d won the most from her said, “I’m heading back to my hometown for New Year. I’ll bring Teacher Lou some local specialties. Next semester when school starts, you can’t pretend you don’t know me, okay?”

“I’ll make sure to remember you, no matter what.”

“Little glutton.”

Du Heming’s table had also settled up. She came over and slung an arm around Lou Yixuan’s shoulder. “Two pieces of news. Good news: I won. Bad news: Not enough to cover your tab.”

Lou Yixuan shook her head with a laugh, unconcerned. “Teacher Du being happy is the best news.”

The colleagues from the functional departments sighed at the sight. “Teacher Du, Teacher Lou—you two get along so well. Makes us jealous.”

Du Heming nodded vigorously. “Lou Lou’s my little lucky star, the key player in my path to riches. I gotta treasure her properly.”

Their open, carefree dynamic—teasing each other like this—kept anyone’s minds from wandering to romance.

The group left the card room and crossed the lobby, only to spot an unexpected person.

Lin Huayan, whom they’d thought had long returned to the hotel, was sitting in the rest area with Sun He.

On the table, the ashtray near Sun He was stuffed with cigarette butts. Near Lin Huayan sat a pot of unidentified tea, gone cold.

“Let’s go, Director Lin. We’ve talked about what we needed to. Time to head back.”

Sun He stood first, stubbed out his half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray.

Watching Lin Huayan approach, Lou Yixuan felt no joy or emotion in her heart. Instead, in the soil where that spark had died, sarcasm took root.

Since returning to the country, this was the first time Lin Huayan’s appearance in her view irritated her.

So annoying.

Annoying enough that she thought, I wish I hadn’t come.

The two hand warmers, still faintly warm in her pocket, were tossed into a trash bin before boarding the shuttle. Du Heming asked, “What’d you throw away? Heard two thuds.”

“Naturally, something I don’t want anymore.”

On the shuttle back to the hotel, Lou Yixuan ditched Du Heming to sit with her new colleagues from the functional departments.

They chatted about their daily work routines, their nine-to-six grind, their joys and sorrows—oblivious to how tightly Lin Huayan, seated right behind her, had wrapped her scarf.

Du Heming, beside Lin Huayan, was frazzled herself, recalling the WeChat He Huan had sent her an hour ago.

—[Teacher Du, knock louder when you get back tonight. No need to hold back—have fun.]

He Huan must have sensed the venting in her complaints.

This mouth of mine.

Always speaks before my brain.

Teacher He had only expressed concern, worried that two girls might be at a disadvantage against stronger men. What was wrong with that?

Once they reached the hotel, Du Heming said she needed to charge her power bank downstairs and didn’t take the elevator up with Lou Yixuan and the others.

The elevator’s jumping red digits felt like some ominous warning.

Lou Yixuan stood half a step behind Lin Huayan, close enough to clearly smell the unpleasant cigarette stench clinging to her coat—not hers. It was pungent, aggravating.

Whether Lin Huayan had real business with Sun He or was just waiting for her on purpose, Lou Yixuan couldn’t accept the smoke smell on her.

The hallway carpet muffled their footsteps.

But when Lin Huayan swiped her keycard, the metallic click of the lock intensified Lou Yixuan’s irritation.

Beep—

The door swung open, and for a split second, both pairs of eyes went blind.

The first thing Lin Huayan did upon entering wasn’t to slot the keycard to turn on the lights.

A few minutes earlier on the shuttle, the image of Lou Yixuan flirting with colleagues out of spite, sharing throat lozenges, that line about “something I don’t want,” and her utter impatience toward her…

Those lingering scenes still burned her retinas.

She clutched the keycard in one hand, unwrapping her scarf with the other.

When Lou Yixuan at the door said “What,” she yanked her inside—none too gently, none too politely.

The muffled thuds of the scarf and keycard hitting the floor hit like a heavy hammer.

Louder than the door slam.

The neon light filtering through the floor-to-ceiling window outlined Lou Yixuan’s tense jawline in the darkness.

It pushed her irritation tonight to its peak.

No…

To the highest peak ever.

A negative emotion she’d never imagined feeling toward Lin Huayan erupted in these short dozen minutes, like a solar flare.

But the next second, Lin Huayan’s lips—mingled with whiskey and tea—covered hers without warning. The chapped touch shocked her, instantly cooling her down and pulling her back from the edge.

This, too, was a way Lin Huayan kissed her that Lou Yixuan hadn’t expected—rough.

Where was Lin Huayan’s anger coming from?

Tonight, I was the one lectured, distanced, taught a lesson.

So what was this now?

“Lin Huayan, you started it.” Lou Yixuan squeezed the words through her teeth, tilting her head to bite that plump red lip.

She pinned Lin Huayan against the wall, her final syllable shattering on impact.

Veins bulged on the back of her hand as her thumb restlessly slid along the other’s wrist. From this upward angle, she could see the fan-shaped shadow of eyelashes on her cheek.

The bitten Lin Huayan let out a low moan, shattering both their pretenses of composure.

Lou Yixuan’s grip nearly crushed Lin Huayan’s wrist bones, but it softened the instant she pried open her teeth—because that long-absent warmth inside was hotter than she remembered.

Her tongue tip recoiled as if scalded, then bit down viciously on Lin Huayan’s lower lip again.

Teeth sank into soft flesh; they both shuddered.

It was like that night eight years ago, when Lou Yixuan had repeatedly used this move in the dim bedroom to stifle Lin Huayan’s gasps.

Emboldened, Lou Yixuan delved in again. Brushing the roof of her mouth sparked electricity; eight years of pent-up longing turned into thick, wet sounds, amplified in the darkness into crashing waves.

Lin Huayan was aroused. Her fingers threaded into Lou Yixuan’s hair at the nape, as Lou Yixuan swallowed every scent in her mouth.

Replacing it entirely with the watermelon flavor she adored.

Long-sealed memories awakened. The watermelon-flavored kiss grew longer, wetter—like high-tide seawater in the rainy season overflowing the rocks, tracing the shape of her teeth. Each curl, each lick eroded Lin Huayan’s reason bit by bit.

The belt Lin Huayan had tied herself was undone.

Lou Yixuan’s hand roamed over the soft knit of Lin Huayan’s sweater beneath the thick coat, her knee pressing firmly between her legs.

Amid the rustle of fabric, their breaths grew heavier, tangling in each other’s ears.

Lou Yixuan’s tongue flicked her lip corner like a big cat’s, the wet kisses trailing along her cheek to her earlobe.

Lin Huayan was savoring it.

Lin Huayan was moved.

This Lin Huayan was too tempting, too disorienting for Lou Yixuan.

She sealed the soft lobe below her lip, sucking and teasing. Her sharp canines scraped without restraint or mercy.

Scraping Lin Huayan’s tender ear, inflicting faint pain—as if carving these misaligned years, one by one, into her flesh.

Remember it. Never escape it your whole life.

Lin Huayan involuntarily lifted her chin.

Her lips, freshly ravaged by Lou Yixuan’s teeth and glistening with saliva, were now gnawed by her own.

Until a palm brushed her sensitive waist, making her flinch reflexively.

Body heat rose.

Welcoming yet resisting.

Wanting it, yet afraid.

When Lou Yixuan’s cool fingers finally slipped under the sweater to touch the skin at her lower back, when arousal neared the breaking point, Lin Huayan snapped awake and shoved Lou Yixuan off her with force.

“No!”

Her palms were slick with cold sweat, eyes full of fear.

Lou Yixuan, deep in passion, crashed unprepared into the full-length mirror behind her. Her head hit the glass with a sharp crack.

The ensuing buzz was like a spark in a gas can, igniting an inferno.

She clutched her ears, squatting down.

—Yixuan, Yixuan, can you hear Mommy?

—You’re bleeding. Sorry, sorry, I… I can’t move. Can you pick up the phone? Call 120. Call 120 and it’ll be okay.

—Yixuan, crawl out. Don’t worry about me.

“Yixuan?”

“Yixuan, a-are you okay?” Lin Huayan crouched in front of her, but her outstretched hand was swatted away.

Then she saw Lou Yixuan kneel on the floor, hands groping for something.

By the time she slotted the keycard, Lou Yixuan had stood with her back to her.

Forehead pressed to the mirror.

“I’m sorry.” Lin Huayan apologized to her back.

In the bright light, Lou Yixuan’s pupils contracted to amber pinpoints. She turned to the guilt-ridden Lin Huayan and suddenly laughed, the sound laced with damp mist.

She looked out the window.

The garden opposite the balcony flickered with lights, on and off.

Not like sparks—more like giant wounds torn into the night.

Each one reminded Lou Yixuan how pathetic she was, bloody-headed from crashing into walls, covered in scars.

“Yixuan…”

“Don’t come near me. It’s dangerous.”

Lou Yixuan’s gaze stayed vacant on the balcony, hollow and lifeless. “Last time at your place, I kissed you. Tonight at the hotel, you kissed me. One each. We’re even.”

“But Lin Huayan.” She turned, staring straight at this elusive elder, each word a knife to her own heart.

“I don’t want to hide anymore, or pretend. It’s exhausting. So what I want to say is, I kissed you because I like you. Liked you eight years ago, still like you eight years later. So what about you, Lin Huayan? Why did you kiss me? Why didn’t you dare last time, but dare now?”

Lin Huayan could feel Lou Yixuan’s scorching gaze, hot enough to burn right through her.

She parted her lips, but no words came out. She could only lower her eyes, unable to meet Lou Yixuan’s stare or respond to her question.

Silence fell again.

But this time, Lou Yixuan would rather Lin Huayan hurl some harsh words at her.

That way, it might hurt a little less.

“I think our current state isn’t suitable for sharing a room. Teacher Lin, you stay. I’ll go open another one.”

She reached for the wardrobe door, only to be pulled into a hug from behind by Lin Huayan. “Don’t go.”

Lin Huayan trembled as she spoke, the hot breath spraying against Lou Yixuan’s neck doing its utmost to hold her back.

That irritability, once overtaken by lustful desire, roared back to life.

Lou Yixuan let out a self-mocking laugh, her voice rising with shame and anger.

“You coax me when no one’s around, but kick me away the moment outsiders show up—like toying with me like a cat or a dog. Is that fun for you?”

“It’s not like that. I never meant to toy with you…”

“If this isn’t toying with me, then what is? Am I that shameful? Just because I fell for you? Because I fell for another woman? Because we used to be teacher and student at the same school? Because there’s a twelve-year age gap between us? So I deserve to be nailed to the pillar of shame by you—by all those self-righteous, narrow-minded fools—and never allowed to turn my life around?”

“Lou Yixuan, don’t talk about yourself like that…” Lin Huayan’s voice shook even harder, trembling in tandem with her body.

“Teacher Lin, Director Lin—then tell me, what should I say? What should I do?”

Lou Yixuan’s choked sobs rose and fell like a tragic aria pouring out all her romantic wounds.

They pierced the two women clinging so tightly together.

“I’m not noble. I’m a very, very vulgar person—my thoughts aren’t pure at all. I have a powerful desire for you. Every time I see you, I want to kiss you, hold you, caress you. A single kiss isn’t enough to satisfy me. So think it over carefully—really think it over. If you don’t let me leave tonight, think about what’ll happen next in this room, what’ll happen between you and me. Do you have the guts to face it? To accept it?”

Pain had reached its peak; now she’d gamble one last time. She laid bare her darkest side to Lin Huayan, positioning herself on the cliff’s edge and burning her bridges behind her.

Waiting for Lin Huayan’s verdict.

“Lin Huayan, after tonight, I won’t give you another chance to push me away. Not in any sense of the word. So please think it through—think about our tonight, and our tomorrow.”

It was her own words: feelings couldn’t afford to be messy; cut cleanly when needed. Lin Huayan had said it too—win or lose, own the consequences.

Life or death, victory or defeat—better to leap into the abyss or taste sweetness after bitterness than linger in limbo.

Unable to live, unable to die.

Lin Huayan didn’t keep her waiting long. She tightened her arms and said, trembling, “I won’t go. You don’t go either. We do nothing—just sleep together tonight, okay?”