Chapter 43: Defying the Ban

The past two workdays had passed smoothly.

For those two days, even if Lu Huan still had work when it was time to clock out, she took it home to finish, lest someone get the wrong idea again.

In the evenings, there was the usual cup of warm milk and goodnight kiss—the best sleep aid before drifting off to dreamland.

But no matter how real the illusions born from misconceptions, they would dissipate one day.

—

On weekend morning, the car pulled into the Lu Family Mansion.

Before Bai Jin had come into her life, Lu Huan made a point of coming back at least once a week for a meal and to spend the night. But lately, her attention had been on the company and Bai Jin, so she hadn’t returned. When passing nearby, she would glance at it at most.

Lack of time was one reason. Not wanting to bring Bai Jin back to the Lu Family was another.

To this day, Lu Huan still rejected the idea of being considered part of the Lu Family. If her childhood resistance hadn’t been so fierce, her parents probably would have forced her to take the Lu surname long ago.

Even now, she resisted deep down, though she pretended to accept it on the surface.

Once the car had come to a stop, Lu Huan unbuckled her seatbelt.

“Let’s head in.”

Outside the car, Aunt Pei greeted them with a smile. “The two young ladies are back. Lady Qin is waiting for you inside.”

Lu Huan handed the car keys to Aunt Pei, who arranged for someone to park the vehicle properly.

As they entered the house, they spotted Qin Dian in the living room.

Qin Dian lounged casually on the living room sofa, dressed in a dark cheongsam and holding a recent magazine. Her back was always ramrod straight, her posture dignified. From a distance, her presence exuded a sharp intensity.

“Mom.”

“Auntie.”

“Good—” Hearing their voices, Qin Dian turned her gaze toward them, drawing out the word. “So now you remember to call out properly. If I don’t summon you back, you really wouldn’t come at all?”

“There was that matter recently, you know…”

“Don’t feed me the same excuses you use on outsiders. I’ve heard them one too many times already.” As Lu Huan started to explain, Qin Dian rose slowly to her feet, picking up a fan and waving it gently.

She walked over to them, glanced at Lu Huan, and then stopped right in front of Bai Jin.

“You’ve gotten thinner.”

She reached out and touched Bai Jin’s cheek, their eyes meeting.

Everything except those icy eyes—the curved brows, the dainty nose—was too much like her own.

Qin Dian seemed dazed for a moment, then smiled warmly.

“Tell Nanny Zhang what you’d like to eat. She’ll make something nourishing for you.”

Bai Jin nodded. “Thank you, Auntie.”

“What are you thanking me for?”

Qin Dian turned slightly toward Lu Huan. “Huanhuan, since you’re finally back, stay the night. I know you don’t like anyone else touching your room. Go on upstairs and tidy it yourself, then have Aunt Luo bring you fresh bedding.”

Lu Huan’s gaze had been fixed on Qin Dian the entire time.

She had taken in that gentle expression from moments before.

Her mother had always been like this—that stern, imposing face would instantly soften around Bai Jin. Even the fiercest look would turn kind, her eyes lingering as they traced over Bai Jin’s features again and again.

“Got it.” Lu Huan averted her eyes and headed upstairs.

Qin Dian let out a soft sigh. “Finally back home, and she’s giving me attitude already.”

Bai Jin watched the direction Lu Huan had gone, then murmured softly with downcast eyes, “She must have misunderstood something.”

“Never mind.” Qin Dian shook her head. “You go tidy up your room too. I didn’t let anyone touch your things while you were gone. Once you’re done, have Aunt Luo help you sort them out.”

“Okay.”

Bai Jin nodded and followed upstairs.

The Lu Family villa was spacious, with generous rooms. Their bedrooms branched off in opposite directions from the staircase landing.

Bai Jin returned to her own room.

It was filled with books and toys from her childhood that she had never actually played with. Ever since she had left at age twelve, nothing new had been added.

But Bai Jin knew there was far more kept here than met the eye.

…

In the other room, Lu Huan was packing items from the cabinet into storage boxes. Later, she would have Aunt Luo and the others dust off the accumulated grime.

They were all figurines and toys. She had lost interest in them as she grew older, but since they dated back to her childhood, she had kept them preserved.

She had no idea what she had been thinking back then—obsessing over a cool-looking model to the point of skipping meals.

Reflecting on it now, she had changed a great deal since those days.

“Heh.”

But people were always changing.

Those who didn’t had long since turned into ghosts.

It took Lu Huan a long while to finish tidying up before she stepped out of the room.

As she headed downstairs, she noticed Bai Jin’s door standing wide open.

Lu Huan hesitated for a moment before walking over and leaning against the doorframe.

“How’s the tidying going?”

It had been around the time Lu Huan was fourteen, in her first year of junior high, when Bai Jin had sliced open her own palm with a knife late at night. Aunt Luo had discovered her and alerted everyone, scaring them badly.

In the end, the psychologist diagnosed overwhelming internal stress. Bai Jin had confessed to the unbearable pressure of living at the Lu Family. Reluctantly, her parents had arranged for her to live elsewhere in a separate house.

She only returned occasionally on weekends or holidays for family meals.

After Bai Jin moved out of the Lu Family Mansion, her room had been left as is. Every time Lu Huan passed by, she had either scowled or shot her a cold glare.

This was the first time Lu Huan had ever walked right into her room so openly.

“Lu Huan.”

Hearing Bai Jin call her name, Lu Huan stepped inside and closed the door behind her.

Bai Jin was crouched down, holding a five-colored pinwheel that no longer spun. She held it up. “The pinwheel.”

“Ah… yeah, that one.”

It was the handmade pinwheel that wouldn’t turn after being repaired. The sight immediately brought back memories Lu Huan would rather forget.

For some reason, she had stubbornly snatched it from Bai Jin back then. And not content with stealing it, she had broken it too.

Fearing Bai Jin might dredge up the old grievance right then, Lu Huan spoke first. “Just so we’re clear, I already made it up to you.”

She was referring to the one she had given her that night after work—the replacement for the pinwheel she had ruined as a child.

Bai Jin didn’t respond. Instead, she rummaged in the box some more.

“And this.” She pulled out a figurine in its display case.

Lu Huan remembered it well. After breaking the pinwheel, she had snuck it into Bai Jin’s bag—something Bai Jin had really liked, meant as compensation.

“You kept this too…” Lu Huan gave a helpless smile and leaned in closer. “You’ve got quite a collection. Let me see what else is there.”

Bai Jin tucked it away. “Don’t bother with the rest. It’s all just childhood junk.”

She had just shown it off, and now she wouldn’t let Lu Huan look.

Lu Huan didn’t press. She simply leaned against the nearby wall.

Glancing around, she noted that Bai Jin’s room was the same size as hers, but far less cluttered. Most of the visible items had already been packed away into boxes.

It felt more like a guest room.

Bai Jin settled into the chair at the desk and stowed the items underneath it.

Lu Huan leaned against the edge of the desk with her lower body, watching her from the side.

That’s when she noticed a small scrap of paper caught in the strands of hair at Bai Jin’s temple.

“Hold on.”

Bai Jin paused midway through bending over and looked up at her.

“How’d that get stuck there?” Lu Huan plucked the scrap free and smoothed Bai Jin’s bangs back into place.

The cool touch brushed past, carrying the faint, clean scent of hand soap. That simple gesture intensified the desire already simmering in Bai Jin’s eyes.

Gazing up at Lu Huan, her look was as if she could devour her whole.

“You’re so beautiful.”

They held each other’s gaze for a long moment. Lu Huan studied her brows and eyes closely, struck by how that face alone could captivate countless hearts.

Lu Huan started to pull her hand back, only for Bai Jin to catch it.

Their teeth clashed together.

“Mm.”

—

Aunt Luo had been waiting in the kitchen until the dishes were nearly ready. She made a special trip upstairs to call them.

Having served the Lu Family for many years, she had watched both Lu Huan and Bai Jin grow up. Every time she saw how grown they were now, she couldn’t help but marvel at how quickly time flew.

Aunt Luo went first to Lu Huan’s room and knocked lightly on the door, calling out a few times. There was no response.

After a brief hesitation, she headed to Bai Jin’s room and knocked softly.

“Miss Bai, lunch is ready.”

There was a sudden bang from inside.

“Miss Bai? Miss Bai?”

—

Inside the room, their kiss grew more heated and intense.

Each one delved deeper than the last, a fierce grinding of lips as they poured out their pent-up emotions.

Before long, Bai Jin relinquished her initial position as the aggressor. Lu Huan’s kisses were too overwhelming; her upper body tilted backward, her footing unsteady until her heel knocked against the desk.

She missed a breath, struggling to keep up. Bai Jin’s breathing grew ragged. Lu Huan released her lips and trailed kisses downward.

Bai Jin’s hand shot up to shield her neck.

Her voice came out breathless. “Don’t. Auntie might see.”

Lu Huan couldn’t help but chuckle. “So you’re the one who’s scared.”

“Aren’t you?” Bai Jin cut her off, her eyes locked intently on Lu Huan’s—like an endless abyss that could swallow her alive. “If you weren’t afraid, why haven’t you touched me these past couple of days?”

Her hot breath fanned against Lu Huan’s ear. “Isn’t it because you didn’t want to leave any marks?”

She was right.

Exactly.

But hearing it put so bluntly ignited a rebellious spark in Lu Huan.

She curved her lips into a smirk.

“What’s there to be afraid of—”

She turned her ear toward Bai Jin, and their lips crashed together once more in a renewed tangle.

Lu Huan’s onslaught was fierce and relentless, impossible to fend off completely. Bai Jin met her advances, grappling back in kind.

“Miss Bai, lunch is ready.”

The familiar voice called from outside the door. Bai Jin’s eyes snapped open.

It was Aunt Luo.

She tightened her arm around Lu Huan’s neck, trying to signal that someone was there.

But Lu Huan acted as if she hadn’t heard a thing—or felt the warning.

In the next instant, Bai Jin found herself pressed against the bookshelf, her back hitting it with a thud. Lu Huan’s hand had cradled the back of her head, sparing her any pain.

The noise only heightened Aunt Luo’s alarm outside.

“Miss Bai? Miss Bai?”

They had to respond, or it would look suspicious.

“Just a moment…”

The second Bai Jin created some space between their lips, Lu Huan nipped at her earlobe.

The wet, soft suction sent a jolt of electricity racing through Bai Jin’s body. Her waist went weak, a thin mist clouding her eyes.

Two seconds later, she managed to steady her voice—it sounded no different from usual. “I got it, Aunt Luo. I’ll be out in a bit.”

But the next moment brought another shiver.

Lu Huan’s hand—

It was still moving.

Rubbing against that spot through the layer of fabric.

Outside the door, Aunt Luo heard her response and breathed a sigh of relief. “Good, good. By the way, Miss Bai, have you seen Miss Lu?”

Bai Jin replied in a calm voice that seemed devoid of any emotion. “She’s here. We’ll head downstairs in a moment.”

“Alrighty, I’ll go serve the dishes first.”

The footsteps gradually receded, followed by the sound of someone heading downstairs.

Aunt Luo was gone.

Bai Jin let out a soft breath, but the next instant her voice softened into a limp quiver—because the teasing from a certain someone showed no signs of stopping.

In this unguarded moment, without her cold mask in place, her real voice trembled faintly.

“Lu Huan…”

The hand pinching her shoulder clutched tightly at her clothes, her head tilting back just a little, her eyes hazy with desire.

“Not bad at all, Bai Jin. Even like this, you could still answer so calmly.” Lu Huan’s teasing voice drifted from beside her ear. “Do you know what this is?”

“Wha…t?”

Lu Huan chuckled lightly against her ear and drawled slowly,

“Going against the wind… to commit a crime—”