Chapter 18

“If Teacher Lin truly thinks that way, I guess I can’t really argue against it.”

After all, she’d only ever liked one person.

What could she do about it?

The twelve-year age gap between her and Lin Huayan was right there, as was their “teacher-student” dynamic.

From her perspective, Lin Huayan couldn’t shake the label of “older woman,” nor the tag of “teacher.”

—Lou Yixuan, I agreed to rent you an apartment and not hire a nanny for you under the assumption that you had enough self-sufficiency. I gave you all the freedom and personal space you wanted, and this is how you repay my trust?

—What do you mean ‘I’ve never fallen for anyone else, I only like you’? She’s over a decade older than you. She’s your teacher. That kind of ‘liking’ isn’t attraction! It’s admiration, dependence!

—I don’t want to say things too harshly, but you’re not some lesbian. You’re only eighteen. Don’t pigeonhole yourself so early on every front. Save your first crush for adulthood, when you can be responsible for your words, actions, and life. When you’ve broadened your horizons, then come talk to me about what ‘falling for someone’ or ‘liking’ really means.

—Studying abroad? Not up for discussion. Give up on that idea right now.

—If you’re just lacking love and mistaking your attachment to an older woman for romance, fine. I admit, as your mother, I’ve fallen short. I’ve spent too little time with you. I’m sorry. Once we’re abroad, I’ll make as much time as possible to be with you.

After her secret crush was exposed, her mother had dismissed her “first stirrings of love,” conflating her “liking” and “attraction” while labeling her feelings for Lin Huayan as a “mother complex” or “teacher crush complex.”

She’d protested, argued back—and it ended in mutual destruction.

The cost had been too high.

She couldn’t afford to pay it a second time.

During the first class meeting of the semester, Lin Huayan had told the students: My emotions are stable, and my patience is decent.

Lou Yixuan had thought back then: Teacher Lin’s words apply to me too.

Her own emotions and patience were even steadier, even better than Lin Huayan’s.

Regardless of the situation or occasion.

Like right now, scorched by the nameless anger of the person she loved, she could still respond with a smile.

“But just to clear it up, I’m no fan of taboo romances. I don’t pull homewrecker stunts or ruin marriages—I’ve got morals.”

You should know that much, right?

If I were of low character and morals, I wouldn’t have held back until I turned eighteen, until I graduated high school, until I was no longer a student at No. 1 Middle School before confessing to you.

“You’re misunderstanding me.”

Lin Huayan looked away, her voice low. “I didn’t think that.”

Lou Yixuan didn’t press her relentlessly: Didn’t think that—then what did you think?

She always left Lin Huayan an out, never backing her into a corner—just like when Lin Huayan had said she “couldn’t accept it,” and Lou Yixuan had backed off without tears or tantrums.

But one thing she hadn’t managed.

She didn’t know what “never see each other again” meant by “never”—how long that timeline stretched.

Nor if “eight years” was enough to cancel out Lin Huayan’s “never.”

It probably was.

If not, how else could they be sitting together in this car right now?

Testing their fragile, surface-level rapport.

“If Teacher Lin has nothing else to say, shall I drive?” Lou Yixuan opened the navigation. “Bit of traffic—estimated twenty-seven minutes.”

Office drones everywhere had been counting down to this long holiday, leading to a flood of cars fleeing the city overnight. Congestion was inevitable.

The car merged onto the main road, the silence inside eerily heavy.

Memories flooded back, flickering past with the neon lights outside the window like a hallucinatory mirage, pulling Lou Yixuan to the brink of heartbreak.

She glanced at the passenger seat. “Mind if I play some music? Will it bother you?”

“No.”

Lin Huayan sat like a ride-hailing passenger, head turned to the window, eyes closed in a doze.

A gentle piano melody swelled up. The dozing passenger’s eyelids twitched, her tone a bit glum: “Change it.”

She’d heard this track too much lately at Du Heming’s place.

Customer first—the accommodating Lou Driver cut the phone’s Bluetooth and switched to the next song on the car’s built-in music app: a cello piece.

Her phone’s pure music playlist was mostly piano.

The car’s tunes had mostly been picked by Lu Lingxuan.

More uplifting, grander than her usual picks.

Nearing the South Gate, Lin Huayan spoke up: “No need to go in. Drop me at the entrance.”

“Got it.”

Lou Yixuan signaled and pulled over, grabbing her phone from the mount. “Teacher Lin, let’s add WeChat? I’ll transfer that thousand yuan from the new card to you.”

Lin Huayan’s hand froze on her seatbelt.

She didn’t pull out her phone or say a word—just opened the door and got out in one smooth motion.

She wanted Lou Yixuan’s WeChat, but not her money. And she definitely didn’t want Lou Yixuan adding her just to repay a debt.

“Thanks for the meal, Teacher Lin.”

Lou Yixuan called after her retreating back, then chuckled to herself. No point dwelling—she peeled out in a cloud of dust.

They’d be working together now; plenty of chances to pay back that thousand yuan bit by bit.

Lou Yixuan’s rental was midway between Haifan and Tianmu Middle School—not far from Lu Lingxuan’s place either. Single trips were all under half an hour.

Lu Lingxuan had a spare two-bedroom apartment whose tenant was leaving this month. She’d offered Lou Yixuan to crash at her place for the extra time, then move in once it was cleaned.

Stay as long as you like, redecorate however—up to you.

Lou Yixuan didn’t want to impose on the wives too long and stuck to her guns, finding her own spot.

Two bedrooms, one living room, loft-style with upstairs and down.

Biggest downside: open kitchen. Grease and smells lingered.

Luckily, she didn’t cook.

She hadn’t wanted to go back alone to the house she shared with her parents. For one, it had sat empty too long—huge, sure, but cluttered with junk and dust. She couldn’t be bothered to clean.

Two, it was too far from both jobs. Commuting would’ve worn her out.

Three, she couldn’t live alone in a place full of memories. She feared guilt would eat her alive.

After washing up at home, Lou Yixuan curled up cross-legged in the armchair by the floor-to-ceiling window for a video call with Lu Lingxuan and her “family of three.”

Xu Yaning and her ex had a daughter named Nannan, now in sixth grade.

This National Day holiday was her first time in Huai’an—and her first official meet with Lu Lingxuan’s family.

“Auntie Lou, hi.”

In the video, Nannan snuggled right up to Lu Lingxuan, calling out to Lou Yixuan as “Auntie.”

The big and little one had known each other for three years and got along great. United in their deep love for Xu Yaning and wanting her happy, they’d never clashed.

Nannan’s name for Lu Lingxuan had evolved from “Sister Lingxuan” to “Little Auntie,” and this year to “Little Mom.”

Kept it private to make Lu Lingxuan happy. In public, it was “Little Auntie” to avoid drama.

“Hi Nannan—you’re even prettier than your photos.”

“Auntie Lou’s pretty too, prettier than in Little Mom’s pics.”

“How about we make a deal?”

“What kind?”

“You call us peers—call me ‘sister’ instead of ‘auntie.’ Deal?”

Nannan hesitated, glancing at Lu Lingxuan beside her for approval.

She’d accepted her mom marrying Lu Lingxuan super quick. Key reason: her best friend Jin Yi’s mom was also with a woman.

She’d met them in first grade. They all loved Jin Yi; Jin Yi called her mom’s wife “Little Aunt.”

Later, hearing her mom had a girlfriend—someone she knew, Sister Lingxuan—she followed suit, switching to “Little Auntie” without any coaching.

And it paid off.

Lu Lingxuan was genuinely good to her—no generation gap, topics flowed easy.

“Nannan, this is between you and Auntie Lou. Sister, auntie—either’s fine. Won’t change how we love you.”

Lu Lingxuan treated Nannan like a “friend.”

Parenting wasn’t her lane; she focused on Nannan’s healthy growth, guiding her toward solid values.

Nannan pondered, then grinned: “Lou Sister or Yixuan-jie?”

She tossed it back.

Lou Yixuan played along thoughtfully: “Lou Sister sounds closer, rolls off the tongue better.”

“Okay, Lou Sister.”

Lu Lingxuan flashed a smug auntie smile, then pouted teasingly: “You two sisters? Then I’m getting the better end of the deal.”

Lou Yixuan propped her chin, blinking: “Better end? Aren’t I your forever baby? Got Ya Ning-jie and Nannan now, trying to welch?”

“Yes, yes—you and Nannan are both my good babies.”

Her wife was her heart and soul.

Lu Lingxuan pulled Nannan close with one arm, reaching with the other for Xu Yaning’s hand off-camera.

That summer after undergrad graduation, she’d gone with classmates to Youjian Little Tavern, fallen for boss Xu Yaning at first sight. Pretended she was a fresh grad jobless, got hired as a server.

Xu Yaning had been divorced and single for four or five years by then.

A month-plus of overt and covert pursuit went nowhere—until Xu Yaning, despite being sick, cooked for Ming You’s birthday.

Lu Lingxuan couldn’t take it.

Couldn’t stand Xu Yaning having eyes only for Ming You, not her. Couldn’t stand Xu Yaning knowing Ming You had someone, yet doting on her selflessly.

Even humbly celebrating Ming You’s birthday as a “big sister,” watching her flirt with her crush.

That night, she crouched at Xu Yaning’s door, snatched the drunk Xu Yaning from Ming You, forced a kiss—and got slapped hard.

Then she slapped herself harder, apologized, begged Xu Yaning to be kinder to herself. Tucked her into bed proper before leaving.

Next day, she quit. Xu Yaning didn’t stop her.

But on her last shift, Xu Yaning cooked her a farewell meal herself.

Lu Lingxuan ate through tears.

Left Youjian Little Tavern crying.

At the elevator, Xu Yaning hugged her, wiped her tears, told her to study hard—better matches awaited.

That was when Lu Lingxuan realized how deeply Xu Yaning hid her pride and inferiority.

The ex-homemaker Xu Yaning, married-with-kid Xu Yaning, weathered-by-time Xu Yaning, orphaned Xu Yaning…

Where would she find the courage for a love defying convention?

The confidence her love wouldn’t drag her person through the mud?

Right then, Lu Lingxuan truly understood Lou Yixuan’s “letting go” of Lin Huayan back then.

At an age unable to handle your own life, how to shoulder someone over a decade older’s future?

Flip it: could the older one even bear theirs?

Shouldn’t be on the older one anyway.

At first, Lu Lingxuan naively planned: win Xu Yaning, then grind for Hengyuan University’s master’s.

Stay for grad school, stay to work, build their little home.

Or, once steady, convince Xu Yaning to move to Huai’an with her; she’d take over Dad’s company.

No shop? No problem—she could provide.

But was her one-sided future vision what Xu Yaning wanted?

No.

Whether she got into Hengyuan grad or not shouldn’t be “for Xu Yaning.” Xu Yaning staying or going shouldn’t trap her in “family” again.

Her love shouldn’t burden Xu Yaning.

Once clear, she confessed her regrets to Xu Yaning, headed home with sorrow—to pursue her own growth.

Thought that was the end of their fate. Stopped secretly checking on Xu Yaning.

But a year later, “Youjian Little Tavern” topped Huai’an’s food list on some app.

Six months after “Youjian again,” they started dating and moved in.

This April, on her 25th birthday, Lu Lingxuan dragged her parents as backup, sweet-talked Xu Yaning into marriage.

Splendidly overtook Lou Yixuan, living that “whipped wife life” bliss only they knew.

“Back to the point—are you really not joining us for the National Day self-driving trip? It’s just four days, steering clear of crowded spots, cruising around nearby places, mostly hunting down great food. We won’t make you drive.”

“No thanks. You two families of three on a parent-child trip? It’d be awkward for me to squeeze in.”

The ones who had brought Nannan and Jin Yi on the high-speed train to Huai’an were Jin Yuan and Su Yi. Lou Yixuan had only heard about them from Lu Lingxuan’s stories.

They were a powerhouse couple in the workplace—a pair of wives who had held their wedding even before same-sex marriage was legalized, now jointly raising the daughter left behind by Jin Yuan’s late older brother and his wife.

They had weathered the seven-year itch, their love as fresh and devoted as ever.

Lu Lingxuan kept digging her little trap: “Su Yi-jie and the others brought Jin Yi this time to revisit old haunts. If you look after Nannan and Yi Yi, the four of us moms can finally snag some couple time, right?”

Indeed, no good intentions.

Before Lou Yixuan could call Lu Lingxuan out on her scheme, Nannan piped up: “It’ll soon be three families of three.”

Lu Lingxuan blinked in confusion. “Where’s the third one coming from?”