On the drive home, Han Xuan was much more well-behaved and obedient than imagined.
She barely spoke the entire way, just quietly sitting in the passenger seat, clutching that sketchbook tightly in her hands, tracing the lines on it with her fingers.
It was as if she were scrutinizing her own progress.
Whenever she drew, her face always carried a special kind of focus—both serious and lonely, like an invisible barrier had been erected, shutting out everyone else.
Chu Susu suddenly recalled the first time she met Han Xuan—it had been a similar scene.
Just one glance upward, and she was stunned by her beauty.
“You said earlier that your recent sketches have all been themed around bars,” she asked. “So, is this a series?”
“Yeah.”
“Why did you think to draw bars? They’re hard to draw, right?”
Not only was the environment unsuitable for focused creation, but the people in the scenes were all moving around, making it inconvenient to capture fixed poses, and the lighting was a chaotic mess to boot.
No matter how you looked at it, it was tough to sketch in that setting.
“Mm, very hard.”
Han Xuan smiled and said, “But that’s exactly why I wanted to try. Anyway, it’s just for my own fun. Even if it fails, no big deal.”
Chu Susu nodded thoughtfully, catching sight of Han Xuan’s fluttering long hair in the rearview mirror. “So, when it comes to drawing, you’re the type who rises to the challenge.”
“Not really.” Han Xuan replied softly.
The car window was half-open, and the winter night wind was biting, whipping her face red—or perhaps it had nothing to do with the wind and was just the alcohol’s effect.
“Hm?”
“It’s just a habit.”
Chu Susu asked in confusion, “A habit?”
“Mm. When I was little, I didn’t have many friends. While others played outside, I could only lie by the window watching. So gradually, I started drawing in my notebooks to pass the time.”
It was clearly a heavy topic, but Han Xuan’s tone was light and casual, as if it had nothing to do with her.
In that instant, a recent scene suddenly flashed before Chu Susu’s eyes.
Little Zhilan sitting at the unlit dining table, timidly asking if she could come over to play often.
Soon, Feng Zhilan’s childish face overlapped with Han Xuan’s.
Their childhoods were probably very similar.
“…Later, I found out I picked it up pretty quickly, so I went to art school.”
Han Xuan’s voice drifted into Chu Susu’s ears along with the night wind:
“It’s not that I love it or anything—just a habit of killing time like that, and it hasn’t changed even now.”
Normally, she was even more silent, but after drinking today, it was like her floodgates had slowly opened.
Chu Susu wanted to lighten the mood and half-jokingly said:
“That’s impressive, sticking with it. With so many drawings, you could definitely publish a few collections. As for me, the only thing I’ve stuck with is walking the dog.”
“…A lot of them are gone.”
Chu Susu froze. “What?”
“A lot of my old drawings weren’t preserved,” Han Xuan smiled. “I was living with relatives back then, lots of inconveniences. They all got thrown out as trash later.”
Chu Susu suddenly understood something: Han Xuan was like Feng Zhilan, yet not.
No matter what, Feng Zhilan had her loving family always by her side, caring for her every need as she grew up.
But Han Xuan had nothing.
…
After they got home and went upstairs, Chu Susu instinctively thought to run a bath for Han Xuan.
She remembered the first time Han Xuan stayed over, also after drinking, when she was so exhausted she fell asleep right away.
So she assumed it would be the same this time, but just before entering the bathroom, her sleeve was tugged.
Han Xuan sat on the sofa, her posture not exactly elegant but lazily casual. “What’s this, time for a bath?”
“Mm, I’ll run the water for you first.”
But unexpectedly, Han Xuan shook her head, going against the norm. “I don’t want one.”
“Hm?”
“It’s only ten o’clock… You’re going to sleep this early? Susu.”
The fingers gripping her sleeve slid lightly up the fabric, reaching her wrist in a flash and gently clasping it.
Han Xuan’s eyes shimmered like shooting stars, or like a pool of water with little boats drifting back and forth, sailing straight into Chu Susu’s heart.
Her tone carried a hint of grievance. “Didn’t you say we were going to drink together?”
Before Chu Susu could respond, Han Xuan seemed to realize something, her eyes drooping in disappointment:
“Is it because I came that you don’t want to drink anymore?
“After all, you originally invited that Le’er, not me…”
Seeing the drunken, hazy-eyed girl starting to overthink, Chu Susu could only sit down beside her. “No.”
“Really?”
Chu Susu didn’t answer that directly—some things were better shown through actions.
It was about time for Pipi to go to sleep, but it was unusually excited, circling happily around their feet.
She picked up the little dog and stood to open the wooden cabinet in the living room, selecting a bottle from inside.
When Chu Susu was busy with work, she’d have a little after her bath to help her sleep, so the house always had some on hand.
Low alcohol content—just enough for a pleasant buzz while lying in bed.
The glass was filled with deep purple-red liquid, still swirling from the motion of holding the cup.
The sofa in Chu Susu’s home was spacious enough for two or three people to lie on comfortably.
They leaned at the same end, a short distance apart but not too far.
She took the initiative. “Today, I went to Rebecca’s for dinner and met her daughter.”
“She’s… a different kind of kid, only five or six years old. For some reason, the moment I saw her, she reminded me of you.”
“Oh?” Han Xuan took a sip and blinked. “Does that girl look like me or something?”
“No, not at all.”
Feng Zhilan had white hair and white eyes, like a little fairy from the forest, while Han Xuan had black hair and black eyes, her gaze deep and unmelting ink.
“Then what is it?”
“Guess.”
Han Xuan thought for a moment. “Ah, I got it. Does she like drawing too?”
“No.”
Han Xuan guessed a few more times, all wrong. Chu Susu turned sideways and revealed the answer.
“You both have this sense of loneliness.”
Feng Zhilan might just be lonely, but for Han Xuan, isolated was more apt.
It was that aura of knowing full well there’s no one behind you, yet not caring a bit.
Han Xuan paused, then smiled. “I’m not lonely.”
Without asking, she boldly leaned over—it all happened naturally.
Han Xuan rubbed her head against Chu Susu’s waist and abdomen, curling up like a little dog, and did nothing else.
She nestled in Chu Susu’s arms alongside Pipi.
“Now I have you with me, don’t I?”
Chu Susu didn’t mind this intimate contact—in fact, she rather liked it.
She reached out and gently ruffled Han Xuan’s hair. “…Mm, yes.”
But right away, Han Xuan’s tone took on a hint of complaint. “But when you went to Rebecca’s, I really was lonely.”
“I thought you were in a meeting and waited for you for an hour. Later, the others told me you’d left long ago.”
“Hm?”
Chu Susu had no idea about this and frowned. “You were waiting for me? Why?”
“…”
Han Xuan pursed her lips. “Does it need a reason?”
True enough.
Not everything people do in this world requires a reason—sometimes you just do it because you want to.
Chu Susu was a bit puzzled. After all, if Han Xuan wanted to know where she was, wasn’t it effortless?
She could find out in seconds, so why wait around like a fool?
At that thought, Chu Susu suddenly realized: Could it be because she’d once told Han Xuan not to use her abilities to pry into her privacy anymore…
With that in mind, she asked outright.
Han Xuan turned her head away, not answering, but her expression clearly admitted it.
“…Sorry, I didn’t know you were waiting. Next time, just text me, okay?”
Chu Susu immediately pictured Han Xuan standing alone by the elevator, waiting all by herself, and her heart softened.
Han Xuan said softly, “But I didn’t want to bother you.”
Mist bloomed in her eyes, yet she still looked so cautious, just like a little dog trying to please its owner.
Chu Susu reached out again to ruffle her hair. “Then let me tell you something.”
“For those two hours at Rebecca’s, I was thinking about you the whole time.”
Han Xuan froze. “Really?”
“Really.”
At first, it was because of Feng Zhilan with her albinism—that pitiful appearance reminded her of the past Han Xuan had shared.
Rejected by peers, no playmates… All those similarities made Chu Susu think of Han Xuan inevitably.
Wondering if Han Xuan had ever been all alone, begging for a playmate in a slightly humble tone like Feng Zhilan.
Wishing she’d met her sooner.
But later, it wasn’t just that.
When walking side by side with Rebecca to the parking area, Chu Susu thought back to her late mother.
That’s when Rebecca placed a hand on her head and said encouraging words.
Rebecca was a sensible, mature big sister type—gentle and considerate. Logically, no lesbian could resist this kind.
Even if she had no interest in Rebecca, she should still be able to appreciate her beauty in that moment.
But in Chu Susu’s heart, aside from being faintly touched by maternal love, there was nothing else.
In that instant, she suddenly realized that her eyes could hold nothing more.
Unbeknownst to her, someone had quietly stolen her gaze, leaving her unable to look away.
Why was that?
Perhaps because the other party always descended from the heavens like a guardian deity, yet was as reserved as a child who had done something wrong—youthful and sincere.
Or perhaps because she was the most special girl she had ever seen.
The soft voice turned into a caress, landing on Han Xuan’s cheek, which was scorching hot: “I’ll go take a shower first.”
Han Xuan suddenly propped herself up, staring straight at her while taking care not to wake the already sleeping Pipi.
Half of her body was sprawled over Chu Susu, implicitly blocking the other’s attempt to get up and run the bathwater. A spark of joy bloomed in her eyes.
Those two words, “miss you,” seemed to take the other a long time to process, causing a subtle shift in her expression.
That joy gradually expanded, spreading to the corners of Han Xuan’s brows and eyes, with a sweet smile tugging at her lips.
But Chu Susu always felt there was something inexplicably off. That smile was as pleasant as ever, yet different from what she had seen before.
She suddenly had a subconscious illusion—that Han Xuan had suddenly become a different person, or rather, her emotions had undergone a massive change.
But she immediately dismissed the thought. How could that be possible?
The atmosphere between them was perfect right now; it was just baseless speculation. She was probably overthinking it.
Han Xuan said softly, “When you said you missed me earlier, I… I’m really happy.”
So happy that she couldn’t contain it anymore.
She lowered her head and proactively planted a kiss on Chu Susu’s arm, with an unusually passionate fervor: “Wanna shower together?”
After all, the bathtub was huge. For two slender girls like them, no matter what they wanted to do or how they tossed around, there would be plenty of space.
Chu Susu nodded. Just as she was about to say it wasn’t impossible, Han Xuan asked again:
“Does Susu need to get up early tomorrow?”
Her eyes gleamed with a deep purple hue, demonic and intoxicatingly mesmerizing, though it was hard to notice under the flush of her cheeks.
Chu Susu found it strange that she would ask this: “No need, tomorrow’s the weekend. What’s up?”
“Nothing.”
“Just… asking casually.”
At her words, Han Xuan smiled softly again.
