Chapter 46

A clear, ethereal voice, like a murmured dream, brushed past her ear. Lin Huayan’s hand clenched abruptly, her fingertips trembling, her pupils contracting.

Her heart hammered in her chest like thunderclaps shattering the heavens, transforming into a thousand butterflies fluttering desperate to take flight, only to be frozen solid by the pattering frost and snow.

Ever since she woke, the rational part of her had been locked in fierce internal strife.

But the emotional part had seized temporary victory, puppeteering her limbs and scripting her words, desperate to keep her beloved by her side.

Yet at this critical moment, rationality ended the // war with a timely command, reclaiming control of her body, shackling her freedom and leaving her rooted in place.

She wanted to kiss Lou Yixuan. She wanted it so badly.

She had wanted it before bed.

But she couldn’t. Rationality’s intimidation was too overpowering; emotion’s odds of winning were minuscule.

Lou Yixuan usually gave Lin Huayan two minutes to respond.

Considering today’s stolen watermelon-flavored kiss, considering Lin Huayan’s exceptional breaking of her own rules today, she extended it by an extra minute.

But it was a pity.

That extra minute was superfluous.

Three minutes passed, and all she got was Lin Huayan’s continued silence.

Nothing else could hurt her anymore. The only thing that could was her own caring.

Her caring for Lin Huayan.

It was her own fault for being too hasty. Spring hadn’t even arrived—how could her fledgling little flame melt Lin Huayan’s icy heart in this untimely winter?

“I’m sorry, Teacher Lin. I was out of line.”

Lou Yixuan was disappointed—in herself, and in Lin Huayan.

With that, she took a big step back, retreating to a polite social distance, though she still smiled at Lin Huayan.

“Alcohol boosts dopamine levels in the brain, making people feel euphoric and excited. So the drunken nonsense and reckless behavior? It all stems from impulse. I get it. Teacher Lin, don’t take it to heart. I won’t push.”

She even comforted herself: Lin Huayan’s silence had its merits—at least it was better than a string of hurtful, self-destructive lies.

She’d rather go completely deaf.

“As for Teacher Lin’s question just now, let me give a clear answer. My original plan was to fly back Friday night, but plans change. I stayed an extra night in Jingping to keep Kinla company, so I changed my flight and only got back at noon today.”

“I came straight here from the airport. As for this afternoon’s class, I coordinated with the other teachers yesterday and swapped it to tomorrow. The schedule change wasn’t because of you—don’t apologize.”

While she explained, Lin Huayan kept her eyes downcast, avoiding her gaze, offering no reaction.

Unless you counted the “pinch” on her own hand.

“Teacher Lin, don’t be nervous. Don’t feel any pressure or burden. I…”

“I don’t mean to force you into anything, and I’m not demanding repayment. It was just a little mishap. I hope it doesn’t mess with your mindset or your work. Otherwise, I’d feel terribly guilty—sleepless with regret.”

Then came the usual caring words: “Teacher Lin, you went out with your friend late last night, right? And you must’ve gotten up early today too. After such a late night and early morning, don’t bother cooking. I’ll order you some porridge later—something light to sober you up and cut the greasiness.”

She unlocked her phone, pulled up a private chef’s ordering mini-app, and showed it to Lin Huayan.

“This place brews their porridge fresh daily. I’ve tried several kinds—they’re all great. It just takes a bit longer to arrive. Okay?”

Lou Yixuan bent down a little, tilting her head to look at her, winking playfully: “Teacher Lin, just nod, okay?”

Lin Huayan nodded hastily.

Only after the order was placed did her face suddenly flush red again: “Thank you.”

“No big deal. Don’t mention it.”

Once the order was in, Lou Yixuan formally bid Lin Huayan goodbye. Lin Huayan didn’t ask her to stay.

At the door, she shrugged on her coat but left the scarf hanging on the rack.

“This scarf should go back to its rightful owner. I’m worried if Tianmu Middle School colleagues spot it someday, it’ll spark unnecessary rumors and trouble for you.”

Lou Yixuan zipped her coat all the way up, opened the door, and said farewell: “See you next week, Teacher Lin.”

“…See you next week, Teacher Lou.”

It wasn’t until the door clicked shut behind the departing figure that Lin Huayan finally released the finger she’d pinched until it drew blood.

Lou Yixuan was gone.

She wouldn’t take the gifts she’d given.

Standing dazed for a long while, Lin Huayan plucked the “iris flower” from her coat collar, caressing it tenderly again and again.

She walked back to the bedroom, tucked it carefully into its original brocade box, and returned it to the drawer.

She sat before the vanity mirror, staring fixedly at her reflection. Without her contacts in, her face was a blur.

Yet moments ago in the living room, she’d seen Lou Yixuan’s face with crystal clarity—even the two little dimples at the corners of her mouth stood out vividly.

Her phone buzzed.

【Lou Yixuan: Teacher Lin, food delivery in 30 minutes.】

【Lin Huayan: Got it.】

【Lou Yixuan: Have a great weekend. Don’t stay up late.】

【Lin Huayan: Don’t text while driving. Stay safe.】

【Lou Yixuan: Mm, heading home now.】

Heading home now?

Lin Huayan nearly hit the voice call button, but what would she even say if she dialed?

The dark phone screen buzzed again.

But this time, it wasn’t Lou Yixuan—it was a message from her mother: 【Call me back when you’re free today.】

That familiar wave of intense discomfort lashed at her nerves. She pressed her throbbing temples, smoothed her furrowed brow, and called her mother.

“Mom, what’s up?”

“You’re done with work already? Not going to play cards or hang out with Feng Ru and them?”

“No. Tell me what’s going on—I’m listening.”

“Oh, right. Yeah, it’s about this: at noon today, Lin Chuanyao called your dad.”

“…” As expected, that family stirring up trouble again.

“He called to say they’ve come up with a new idea as a family. Before the second baby, didn’t Liu Yunfen promise to put down the down payment on a house in town for the young couple, so they could live separately with the kid?”

“I always figured it was just empty talk—how could that actually happen? Forget the fact that after Lin the Second’s big illness, the old couple’s savings are nearly tapped out. With Lin Chuanyao’s two tiny kids, don’t they need constant adult supervision?”

“The young couple both work—inevitably relying on the grandparents for childcare. Even if Liu Yunfen wants to throw her weight around and humble her daughter-in-law by washing her hands of the kids, would she really tolerate her daughter-in-law’s family moving into the new house she shelled out her life’s savings for?”

“…They haven’t bought the house yet?”

“At first, they said they’d buy once the pregnancy stabilized—do some renovations, let it air out for half a year, then move in after the second baby. Later, it became ‘pregnant women shouldn’t overexert,’ ‘son has to provide and can’t handle it,’ ‘wait till after the daughter-in-law’s confinement.’ Endless excuses to drag it out. Now here’s a fresh new trick.”

“…They want a big house for all six of them, but money’s short, right?”

“Sigh, my daughter’s so smart,” Zhou Chunping praised, before switching back to irritation. “But you only got half of it.”

“…”

“That bunch from Lin the Second’s family—none of them are pushovers. Every one scheming with a thousand tricks up their sleeves, never doing honest work, just rattling their abacuses all day.”

“Guess what ploy they’re pulling this time?”

“They say they want to buy in Huai’an City, to ‘keep an eye on us’ or whatever. In town, 200k gets you a full 80-90 sqm place outright. In Huai’an? Barely the down payment on a three-bed two-bath. What do they want? Our family’s money, plain and simple. Shamelessly calling it ‘better to pay big interest to family than the bank—keep the water in our own field.’ Lord, the gall—it’s enough to explode my lungs.”

“What did Dad say?”

“What could he say? ‘I got no money.’ I was right there beside him—if he’d agreed, I’d divorce him on the spot.”

“…Mom, divorce is just anger talking. Don’t keep saying it. Dad would be hurt.”

“Hurt? He deserves it. Has he ever cared if us mother and daughter were hurting? Huayan, it’s all your fault too—insisting on upgrading our house, insisting on buying your own. You should’ve listened to me back then: let me and your dad buy it for you, so all the money would’ve gone to you.”

“You don’t know how on edge I am every day, terrified your dad’ll get brainwashed by that family one day, sneak our savings to them behind my back. That’d kill me outright.”

“Mom, calm down—don’t ruin your health over it. I’ll head home later and call Lin Chuanyao to talk.”

Lin Huayan’s contact info was unknown to Liu Yunfen’s whole family.

They’d had it once, but after college, following her mother’s advice, she’d changed numbers and deleted contacts, cutting them off clean.

Zhou Chunping and Lin Jiazhong unconditionally backed her, keeping it airtight.

Take this house: they’d never asked where Lin Huayan bought it, never suggested visiting.

Her workplaces—past Huai’an No. 1 Middle School or current Tianmu Middle School—remained unspoken, never leaked to Liu Yunfen’s clan.

But that family was like persistent ghosts.

They never confronted her directly, but every few days, they staged sob stories for her parents.

Never ripping faces off—just clinging like dog-skin plasters.

Over decades, Lin Huayan had countless times wanted to sever ties completely. But they were her father’s blood brothers, after all… her own kin.

Until utterly unbearable, until no other choice—how could she unilaterally cut them off?

After finishing the porridge Lou Yixuan had ordered, Lin Huayan took a cab home. On WeChat, she gave an honest review: 【Delicious.】

She was grateful this tasty porridge filled her stomach, gave her strength, eased her mood.

Without this porridge—without Lou Yixuan’s porridge—how could she eat anything tonight?

Lou Yixuan must have foreseen it.

That’s why, even in her own bad mood before leaving, she’d insisted on ordering it, ensuring Lin Huayan wouldn’t go to bed hungry.

Such a good girl. Such a good Lou Yixuan. There was no second like her in the world.

Much later, the reply came: 【Glad Teacher Lin likes it.】

How could she not?

…

Pingxin Town was a small town in a third- or fourth-tier city—modest in size and population.

Most locals had rural hukou, and Lin Chuanyao’s couple lived with his parents in a three-story old self-built village house.

Before Lin Chuanyao’s wedding, Liu Yunfen’s old couple had repainted the exterior walls, refurnished his rooms brand new, even splurged on top-tier banquet seating—all to give their youngest son face.

But an old house was an old house; no amount of paint could make it new.

Unfortunately, Lin Chuanyao wasn’t cut out for studies—low education, dull wits. He could only do grunt work, scraping by on hard-earned cash.

His wife Xie Xiang fared no better: a housekeeper at the town guesthouse, from even remoter hills.

Buying a place in town wasn’t impossible for them, but draining savings for a mortgage, plus two kids’ expenses and daily living—they’d be stretched thin.

But who doesn’t aim higher? Who doesn’t crave better days?

Last Spring Festival, Lin Chuanyao had vented to Lin Huayan: he wanted to strive harder, hustle more for his wife and kids’ better life, but he lacked skills, capital—truly powerless.

Wife pressuring for a house, parents for a son—he was going mad.

Lin Huayan had comforted him then: life was for him, his wife, his kids—not his parents. Contentment is key.

A year later.

People change. Situations shift endlessly.

To think she’d once considered—if he didn’t hit them up for the house, she’d quietly fund renovations and appliances.

No chance now. Let them wail all they want—she wouldn’t give a dime.

No matter the pressure, Lin Chuanyao’s compromise sealed it: he’d become just like his mother.

No sympathy left.

In her call with Lin Chuanyao, Lin Huayan’s stance was ironclad.

—My parents’ money has nothing to do with your family. It’s their retirement fund, in my hands, invested—no loans.

—My money has nothing to do with your whole family. That’s my retirement savings, and how I use it is my business.

—Lin Chuanyao, let me make this crystal clear today. Whether I get married or have kids or not, I won’t be sending anyone from your family to look after me in my old age. That’s your child. Since you had him, you raise him properly yourself. Don’t count on anyone else—not even your own parents.

—There’s no sibling bond between us, and I feel no family affection toward you at all. Stop trying to leech off me and my parents without lifting a finger. That’s utterly shameless.

—You’re the pillar of your family, the son your parents toiled endlessly for and longed for with every fiber of their being. Show some responsibility and backbone for once. Don’t make me look down on you.

—I’m aboveboard in word and deed, so I have no fear of whatever exaggerated rumors you spread. Go ahead and make a scene if you want—make it as big as possible. Let everyone know, let us cut ties forever, never to speak again. That way, I might even say “thank you.”

After finishing the call on her father’s phone, Lin Huayan felt a huge weight lift off her shoulders. But her guilt toward her parents only grew stronger.

“Dad, Mom, maybe from now on…”

Maybe from now on, just let them come straight to me if there’s any trouble.

She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. She knew her parents wouldn’t agree, and she knew full well that adding that family’s contact info herself would mean zero peace.

But she craved peace now more than ever.

Zhou Chunping saw the conflict and deep unease in her daughter’s eyes. Heart aching, she pulled her away from the balcony and sat her down on the sofa, quickly changing the subject.

“You said you wanted to take me and your dad to the beach for New Year’s, right? Perfect timing—we’ll have the three of us together. Come on, open up those booking apps. Tickets, hotels, attractions—we’ll look at them together and pick as a family.”

“Okay.”

After booking a three-day, three-night trip from home, Lin Huayan didn’t stay the night. She returned to Room 1107.

Only at school could she once feel the meaning of her life, fill the emptiness inside a little, and push aside those nauseating, filthy thoughts.

But that was before. Before Lou Yixuan came back.

Now, even in the dorm, she could no longer settle her mind.

On the contrary, her thoughts multiplied. She wanted more and more. Sometimes, she even jolted awake in the dead of night, drenched in sweat.

Because she dreamed again of being wheeled into the operating room, dying on the table.

And what was even more terrifying than before… she dreamed of Lou Yixuan too.

She dreamed of Lou Yixuan in the hospital room, cradling her cold, stiff body and sobbing heartbrokenly. She dreamed of Lou Yixuan, after crying, leaning close to her ear with a smile and whispering—Lin Huayan, don’t be afraid. I’ll stay with you forever.