Lou Yixuan hadn’t held out any unrealistic hopes for Lin Huayan’s message. Given Lin Huayan’s principles, it was probably just something like asking if she’d gotten home safely. There was no way it was inquiring why she’d gone to the Clear Bar with Du Heming.
And sure enough, even before opening the chat, she saw the words under the profile picture in the list: 【Got home?】
【Lou Yixuan: Yes.】
【Lin Huayan: Good. Good night.】
See? So perfunctory, just like a superior’s polite concern for a subordinate. She couldn’t even spare one extra word.
Lou Yixuan closed her dry eyes, and in mere seconds, tears misted her lashes again.
Du Heming had it bad, but she wasn’t much better off.
I’ve poured out my heart a thousand times, she thought, and Lin Huayan never once catches it.
Lin Huayan, Lin Huayan.
Is your care, your concern, your affection only this calm—like lukewarm colleagues, wrapped in polite pleasantries, optional at best?
Lin Huayan, doesn’t your heart ache at all?
If it does, why won’t you respond to me just once more? Why won’t you say just one more word?
Even a stone should be warmed by now.
What is your heart made of, to stay so cold and hard?
That night, Du Heming’s only reply was one message: 【Lou Lou, you really sound just like Teacher He when you talk.】
Lou Yixuan had sent those words to Du Heming because she couldn’t bear to watch her go through the same suffering she’d endured.
As the one who’d taken the initiative, her own cautionary tale was right there. Du Heming was the best friend she’d made since returning home—there was no reason not to use her mistake as a warning.
They both needed to learn their lesson and wise up.
【Lou Yixuan: Wishing us both success in love. Sweet dreams, Teacher Du.】
…
On Saturday evening, true to her word, Lou Yixuan headed straight to Lu Lingxuan’s place after work to apologize.
The Small Tavern got busy on weekends, and Xu Yaning, as the boss, usually stayed to mind the shop, not getting home until late.
Lou Yixuan and Lu Lingxuan were evenly matched in cooking—one bold enough to make a feast, the other too scared to eat it.
Lin Huayan was the only one who could eat a whole table of Lou Yixuan’s dishes without batting an eye.
Though Lou Yixuan came with genuine sincerity, groceries in hand, insisting on cooking to win over Lu Lingxuan’s stomach, Lu Lingxuan had been burned once in August by “trusting” her. The aftermath? She still gagged at the sight of mashed potatoes.
So while Lou Yixuan busied herself in the kitchen unpacking the veggies, Lu Lingxuan urgently ordered roast duck delivery, paid for it herself, and forwarded the order to Lou Yixuan.
“Xuan Xuan, I want roast duck today. You cool with that?”
“Sure, then roast duck it is.”
Lu Lingxuan leaned against the kitchen doorframe, phone in hand. “Check your phone and tap that little finger of yours.”
Lou Yixuan washed her hands, pulled out her phone, and paid. “Done. Half an hour wait.”
“Our family’s Boss Xu originally wanted the Small Tavern’s chef to whip up a few dishes and send them over, but I proudly said no way. We’re two able-bodied adults—starve without the wife around?”
“…” Lou Yixuan didn’t bite. Where’s my wife? she thought. Lu Lingxuan’s just poking at me on purpose.
“Xuan, why are you dragging your feet? You’ve confirmed Teacher Lin likes you—what are you waiting for? Hmm?”
Lou Yixuan pocketed her phone, rolled up her sleeves higher, and closed in on Lu Lingxuan. “Let me ask you something—did you collude with Teacher Du that night?”
“I didn’t! No way!”
Lu Lingxuan straightened up, protesting her innocence. “Lou Yixuan, I’ve kept your secret for ten years, and now you’re letting me take the fall!”
“Really nothing?”
“Really nothing!”
“Swear it then—if you’re lying to me, may you go bald, get covered in boils, and develop a huge beer gut…”
“…” My darling has such a vicious tongue.
“Scared?”
“Aw, come on, Xuan Xuan, spare me.”
Ever flexible, Lu Lingxuan played cute and hugged her. “Teacher Du brought up Teacher Lin first, asking if I knew which teachers at school you got along with best. I said yeah, I know, and then…seizing the opportunity…”
Lou Yixuan sighed dramatically. “And then what? Confession gets leniency, resistance gets severity. Spill.”
Who knows how Ya Ning-jie puts up with this rogue, how she keeps her in line. Getting worse with age.
“Just… asked Teacher Du to be kind, play matchmaker. Helping a romance along is good karma. Good people get good rewards.”
“…”
Lu Lingxuan slowly backed away but kept a death grip on Lou Yixuan’s clothes, guilty as charged. “Teacher Du also sent me a voice message describing what happened in the garage that night.”
She and Du Heming had added each other as friends, using real names in their profiles.
But Lu Lingxuan hadn’t told Du Heming her wife’s name. Her Moments were visible to friends for only three days, and she never posted photos with Xu Yaning in them.
So adding her had been risk-free.
“Xuan Xuan, trust me—this works! Don’t push her, but stimulate her!”
“Think about it—that frog just sits there all slow and comfy. If you don’t poke it with a stick…”
“Ah, no, not that—if you don’t make some noise to rile it up, you’ll never see how fast and far it can jump, right?”
Agony.
Heaven knew how tortured Lu Lingxuan felt these past few minutes.
Lou Yixuan might stay cool as a mountain collapsing, always polite and smiling, but Lin Huayan was her untouchable sore spot.
Anything but Lin Huayan, and Lou Yixuan would never snap at her.
“Darling, you really…”
“Lu Lingxuan,” Lou Yixuan feigned anger, then burst out laughing. “Next time, pick a better metaphor. Rabbit, not frog.”
“You’re laughing! You dare laugh!” Lu Lingxuan let go, putting on a fierce face. “You black-hearted beast—you’ll get dumped in a vat of oil by my wife one day and deep-fried, just to check if your heart’s really black.”
“Mm, patiently waiting.” The words were crude and cheesy, but Lou Yixuan loved them.
After their tussle, they headed to the living room. Lu Lingxuan grabbed two boxes of ice cream from the fridge. “Watermelon flavor. Here.”
She bought this flavor just for Lou Yixuan.
The house stayed at constant temperature year-round—cold treats or hot drinks, whatever the mood.
“Thanks.”
“Quit with the ‘thanks’—my ears are callused. Childhood friends from diaper days—who with whom?”
They sat cross-legged on the rug, one box each, munching while waiting for delivery. The TV played a hot summer blockbuster anime movie at low volume.
After a few spoons of honeydew ice cream, Lu Lingxuan asked, “Oh yeah, you got your flight and hotel booked for Jingping?”
“Yep. Booked yesterday. Thursday morning flight out, Friday evening back.”
“So rushed? Your Saturday class isn’t till afternoon—why not return Saturday morning? Rare chance to see the museum director sis—don’t you wanna catch up longer? Who knows when next time’ll be.”
The “museum director sis” Lu Lingxuan meant was Kinla, director of Bona Art Museum Australia.
During Lou Yixuan’s study abroad years, Kinla this talent scout had been instrumental in her quick rise to fame and self-sufficiency through murals and paintings.
So though Lu Lingxuan had never met her, she held her in high regard.
“Too bad it’s not a weekend. If it were, I’d shamelessly tag along to meet your big benefactor and thank her for looking after my darling.”
Lu Lingxuan had seen plenty of Kinla’s photos—ones Lou Yixuan shared, and ones she’d dug up online.
A total stunner: high nose bridge, high cheekbones, black hair, mixed-race beauty.
Lou Yixuan shot her a look. “Dream on—even if it were a weekend, I wouldn’t bring you.”
“Pfft, as if I’d care.” Lu Lingxuan stuck out her tongue, smug. “I’ve got a wife to dote on me, love me. Unlike some people…”
“Yeah, unlike some—with a wife and still eyeing beauties.”
“Who’s eyeing beauties?” Lu Lingxuan jumped up, spoon jabbing. “Don’t you slander me!”
“Then let’s tell Ya Ning-jie the whole story and let her judge?”
“Lou Yixuan, you big jerk!”
…
The day before departing for Jingping was Wednesday.
Lou Yixuan ate lunch with Du Heming and the others as usual—total harmony, no sign of any “ill will” or “sulking” between them.
Midway through afternoon class, after finishing her demo, Lin Huayan appeared at the Art Classroom door.
“Teacher Lou, step out a moment.”
“Hold on.”
Lou Yixuan nodded to her, pulled up the multimedia image, and told the students, “This week’s homework: still life composition. Create a color painting based on this black-and-white photo on screen. Horizontal format, warm tones.”
Since the newbies were still beginners, the photo was simple: a draped cloth, a porcelain vase, two apples, one banana.
“Zhang Xiao will send the photo to the group. Babies, behave—no loud chatter.”
After assigning homework, Lou Yixuan stepped out.
She couldn’t guess what would make Lin Huayan interrupt her class.
“Go ahead, Teacher Lin.”
As long as it’s not making me write a ‘teacher ethics’ report—Du Heming’s isn’t even done. No less than 3,000 words—that ordeal I can’t handle.
“The principal’s assistant just called. Wants me to grab you and head to the VIP reception room in Gewu Building for an important meeting. Tianmu Group and Haifan Group big shots are there—probably about Art Class teaching.”
Lin Huayan had gotten the task last-minute too. The assistant had name-dropped both groups’ CEOs—clearly way more important than one class.
Convenient timing: “Anything else to arrange here?”
“Nope, they can handle it.” Lou Yixuan checked her phone. “Three-thirty—surely it won’t drag on till evening?”
“We’ll see when we get there.”
Lin Huayan’s expression was stern, her tone oddly sharp.
After repeated setbacks, Lou Yixuan hated talking much to Lin Huayan at school.
Whether she said little or much, smiled wide or not, it was all pointless with Lin Huayan.
“Then lead the way, Teacher Lin. After you.”
Lou Yixuan had never been to that VIP room—better let her lead. Plus, outside the classroom, who knew how many ears were listening.
Hearing that deferential “you,” Lin Huayan’s heart sank sharply.
Back to our first day at this school—like when Lou Yixuan used one “you” after another to underline our distance. Not even ‘distant’—just strangers.
“Let’s go.” Lin Huayan led the way, trying to soften her footsteps.
She didn’t walk fast; Lou Yixuan didn’t follow too closely.
Their bodies were within arm’s reach, but the gulf in Lin Huayan’s heart grew ever wider with the wind.
At the meeting room, the principal’s assistant waiting outside opened the door.
Inside, Lou Yixuan lit up with surprise.
Not only were the Tianmu and Haifan CEOs there, but the guest they were receiving was her old acquaintance—the director of Bona Art Museum.
Shouldn’t she be in Jingping?
Principal’s assistant: “Director Lin, Teacher Lou, seats this way.”
Before Lou Yixuan could move, the esteemed guest stood. “Xuan, long time no see.”
Seeing the woman rise and approach gracefully, Lou Yixuan beamed and strode forward. “Kinla!”
Meanwhile, Lin Huayan—who’d been ahead of Lou Yixuan the whole way—was ruthlessly left behind.
She watched Lou Yixuan excitedly embrace another woman, right there in front of everyone, hearing her thrilled words: “What are you doing here? I thought we wouldn’t meet till tomorrow.”
