Lin Huayan looked at Lou Yixuan’s hand, white as jade, clutching her own, then at her glassy eyes gazing up at her. She couldn’t resist.
She leaned down accordingly and heard her say, “Happy New Year, Teacher Lin.”
How close did she have to be to clearly hear the sick girl’s “Happy New Year” amid the blaring music from the speakers?
Very close.
So close that Lin Huayan could feel Lou Yixuan’s breath on her ear through her mask.
Zhang Xiao was about to take the stage, but Lin Jianlu noticed the girl beside her glancing back repeatedly, then tapping away furiously on her phone keyboard. She asked her, “What are you writing?”
The girl didn’t look up, busy capturing inspiration. “Look at the left rear of our class’s lineup—such great material. Perfect for fanfiction.”
“…” Fanfiction? Teacher Lou and Teacher Lin’s fanfiction??
“Hmm? You don’t know?” The girl looked up.
“Know what?”
“Zhang Xiao’s secretly written several pieces of ‘Yi Yan CP’ fanfiction already. You two are such good friends—surely you haven’t missed a single one? You don’t ship…” The girl pointed subtly toward the two of them and whispered to Lin Jianlu, “this pair?”
“…” She, who had just been “rejected” by Teacher Lou not long ago—what should she say, “ship” or “not ship”?
Besides, Teacher Lou said she had someone she liked. Was it appropriate to ship her with Teacher Lin?
“Hey, to each their own. No ship, no ship—nothing to be shy about.” The girl spoke bluntly. “Don’t some people in class ship you and Zhang Xiao?”
“…!!” Lin Jianlu’s mind buzzed instantly. Her and Zhang Xiao?!
“Not surprised you’re out of the loop. You only ever goof around with Zhang Xiao and barely talk to the rest of us.”
Just then, the host announced Zhang Xiao from Grade 1 Class 9. The girl quickly closed her notes app, opened her camera. “No time to chat—Zhang Xiao’s up. Aren’t you filming her?”
Lin Jianlu gritted her teeth, hesitated a moment, and only when the music started did she raise her phone like the other girl, switching to video mode.
Plenty of people would take photos, so she’d record the whole performance.
Though Zhang Xiao had told her before the contest: Lin Jianlu, your photography sucks. Better not capture any ugly shots of me.
Ugly where?
She never thought her photos were ugly.
Because she rarely took them anyway.
In her phone gallery—yes, her phone gallery—the most frequent subject was Zhang Xiao.
Silly faces, messy hair, eating, drawing, sleeping…
Every single one was “ammo” she held in her hands.
When Zhang Xiao finished sixth and stepped off stage, Lou Yixuan also moved her stool back beside Lin Huayan.
“Teacher Lou, how was it? I didn’t embarrass you, right?”
“You sang beautifully—really great. Class 9’s treasures are all the best.”
Lou Yixuan was greatly shocked upon hearing it. Zhang Xiao had a wide vocal range, and her Cantonese was remarkably standard.
After hugging Zhang Xiao and letting go, she stepped aside and continued, “As you can see, I’m not feeling well today, so I’ll head home first. Have fun, everyone.”
“Mm-hmm, Xuan-jie, go rest up quick.”
Zhang Xiao followed and hugged her again. “Thanks for coming just to hear me sing. I didn’t know you were sick—if I had, I wouldn’t have let you come.”
“It’s fine. Winter colds happen all the time.”
Lou Yixuan ruffled Zhang Xiao’s hair, then turned to the whole class. “News says the flu’s rampant, so everyone stay safe. Drink some preventive sachets, wear masks in crowds.
“Also, enjoy the three-day New Year’s holiday with food and fun, but don’t slack on homework. Finals are coming—get your heads back in the game.
“Alright, that’s it for today. Happy New Year, treasures. See you next year.”
Every word was advice for her students, never once mentioning Lin Huayan—yet every word was meant for Lin Huayan.
The weather was cold, but her voice and the smile that pierced even her mask were warm.
“Happy New Year, Teacher Lou! See you next year!” “Take care of yourself, Teacher Lou! We’re waiting to spectate the drama!”
“Spectate? What drama?” Zhang Xiao asked Lin Jianlu, puzzled.
“I’ll tell you later.”
Lin Huayan watched and listened silently from the side.
When a person exuded charm, they carried light with them. Lou Yixuan was just like that.
No matter if she said something serious or playful, her audience never felt repelled.
If someone had told her eight years ago that Lou Yixuan would one day become a wildly popular and beloved “kids’ king”…
She never would have believed it.
In the three years of middle school she’d witnessed, Lou Yixuan never showed a sociable side—not even chatting with friends in the hallways after class.
Back then, Lou Yixuan was like a solitary, pristine ghost flower.
Back then, Lou Yixuan only had endless words for her when they were alone.
But now…
But now, Lou Yixuan would still whisper a “Happy New Year” just to her—only to her.
…
In the end, at the finals that day, Zhang Xiao scored third, just as Lou Yixuan had predicted.
Classmates joked that Teacher Lou’s words had “come true like magic.”
Lin Huayan smiled at the saying too, in a great mood as she forwarded the message to Lou Yixuan. But the Art Group Chat had already exploded.
That afternoon, many students had whipped out their phones for photos and videos—no school controls, so they went wild.
Lin Jianlu had already explained the “spectating drama” joke to Zhang Xiao, who promised: if she made top three and snagged six hundred in prize money, she’d treat the whole class to Snow King.
Top Ten Singers: ten winners.
First place: one thousand. Second: eight hundred. Third: six hundred. Fourth to tenth: three hundred each.
Milk tea secured, Class 9’s cheers rang louder than the first-place class.
The Art Class, praised by school leaders and grade teachers for its “team spirit,” owed much of its values guidance to Lou Yixuan, who only showed up once a week.
A swell of pride filled Lin Huayan’s heart.
Proud of every Class 9 student, proud of the girl she liked, proud of herself.
The Lou Yixuan of before—she loved.
Today’s Lou Yixuan—she loved too.
Work, life—everything improving.
Then her life would get better with it, right?
Zhang Xiao placing well made Lou Yixuan happy, but Lin Huayan’s fun message made her even happier.
Lou Yixuan: Teacher Lin, my words came true. What about you—forgot something you owed me?
Forgot something?
Forgot what?
Lin Huayan stood on the track, overseeing students from each class carrying chairs back to classrooms from afar.
She mentally replayed every moment with Lou Yixuan that day.
Once she pieced it together, she stared at a string of red lanterns on a tree, smiled to herself, and typed back: Happy New Year—not just next year.
Every year going forward.
…
New Year’s travel was packed with people and cars.
Luckily, they got out early that day. Lin Huayan kept it simple, driving home to pick up her parents for their flight and parking at the airport.
Travel wasn’t her passion, but she didn’t hate it.
After turning adult, a full twenty years—this was her first time taking her parents on a trip.
The simplest, most hassle-free coastal city strategy? Spend big on a pricey sea-view hotel for top-value beach, pool, dining, shuttles, and more.
That’s what Qin Fengru had advised when she consulted her about bookings.
In the end, aside from the round-trip tickets Lin Huayan bought herself, everything else was booked via Qin Fengru’s video call “consultation” with her mom.
Mom was thrilled, so Lin Huayan let Qin Fengru ramble vividly about local customs.
Once all set, she tallied the bill and transferred the money to Qin Fengru.
—That’s it? Just pay me off? After all my help, no sweet talk? You and that Lou La—
Lin Huayan had hung up on Qin Fengru’s “debt collection” call that night, replying on WeChat: Don’t go after her. When the time’s right, I’ll tell you.
But she had no idea where to even start.
Past or present—how to define her relationship with Lou Yixuan?
She was supposed to be having fun, but Lin Huayan hadn’t smiled once.
On New Year’s Day, Lou Yixuan sent her no message.
She knew there wouldn’t be one.
But she hoped—wanted the back-and-forth, wanted to ask if Lou’s cold was better.
Not see her Moments post with Du Heming: two movie tickets, a popcorn bucket, two milk teas.
And their selfie together.
Both masked, side-by-side in the theater. The empty back wall showed seats far back and to the side.
She knew they were just ordinary colleagues, nothing beyond friendship between them. But subconsciously, she minded.
From their reunion day one, she’d minded Du Heming getting close to Lou Yixuan.
Even after learning Du Heming truly fancied He Huan, she still minded their physical contact. Deep down, she minded Lou Yixuan being “closer” to any “other” than to her.
And it bothered her more and more.
Utterly unreasonable.
New Year’s Day two, after dinner, Zhou Chunping called Lin Huayan to stroll the beach with her.
Their paired footprints left deep and shallow imprints in the soft sand, soon smoothed by incoming waves.
Night fell, churning waves crashed the shore, a salty breeze ruffled their hair.
“Time flies—two days gone already. Wake up tomorrow, and we’re heading back.”
Zhou Chunping usually snapped every tourist photo on group trips with her old friends, hitting every spot.
This time, though, she barely touched her phone, always arm-in-arm with her daughter, even repeating Qin Fengru’s stories to her.
“Mom, isn’t it boring out with me?”
Tonight, it was Lin Huayan holding her mother’s arm. Her low voice blended into the roaring waves, sounding all the more desolate.
Zhou Chunping tightened her arm, placing her right hand over Lin Huayan’s.
“Someone who likes you will like you no matter what. No need to care if those who don’t, do.”
“Mom, you’re saying…”
“I’m talking about those who like you—and the one you like.” Zhou Chunping patted her daughter’s hand like a scolding. “What, can’t Mom say it?”
“…”
Zhou Chunping fell silent a moment, then sighed softly. “Anyone you like, anyone good to you—Mom’s happy. Got troubles? Tell me. Need me to step in? I will.”
Feeling her mother’s care and comfort, Lin Huayan tried to steady her emotions.
“Did Qin Fengru say something to you?”
“What could she say?”
She did—but can’t admit it now. “I just told her to drag you to more gatherings, keep an eye out for girls you’d click with.”
A few days after the wedding, Qin Fengru had called Zhou Chunping.
On the phone: Auntie, your wishes come true—whatever you hope for, arrives. We’ll wait for good news. No rush.
“…” Girls?
So Qin Fengru’s first-meeting stunt of blurting Lou Yixuan’s room code wasn’t a fluke?
Mom and best friend had swapped intel, both angling to play matchmaker.
“Mom, don’t let Qin Fengru fill your head with wild guesses.”
“Is that what we call ‘wild guesses’?” As soon as she said it, Zhou Chunping realized she’d slipped.
She huffed in self-frustration, gripped Lin Huayan’s hand harder. “You’re the one overthinking. Huayan, that time at home when you asked if we could love her as selflessly as we love you—Mom’s answer now is yes.”
Zhou Chunping stopped, turning to face her daughter.
She grasped both her hands firmly and said calmly, “Mom promises you—your dad and I won’t nitpick her. And not a word to Lin the Second’s family.”
“You’ve chosen her yourself, and Mom and Dad both trust your judgment. Whenever you’re ready, bring her over—no, no, let’s meet outside somewhere. Just her, or invite her family too. We’ll have a meal together, get to know each other’s faces. After that, you two live your lives…”
“Mom.” Lin Huayan’s voice trembled as she hugged her mother. “Thank you. It’s just…”
She towered over her mother, and as her arms encircled the frail woman, she could feel every ridge of bone beneath her skin—afraid that even a little too much pressure might hurt her.
Her mother was nearing seventy, a little old lady with white streaks at her temples, yet she was the person in this world who gave Lin Huayan the greatest sense of security.
The two slender figures embraced in the night, cool seawater lapping over their feet, washing away the stifling heat from the equator—but leaving grains of sand in their flip-flops that no wave could dislodge.
There was no such thing as something for nothing, good or bad.
What you gained, you had to lose in equal measure.
It was a delicate balance, more like an eternal law of conservation.
Lin Huayan hesitated, that trailing “just…” hanging in the air, and Zhou Chunping seemed to both know and not know: “Just what? Tell me. Whatever it is, Mom will help you figure it out.”
Lin Huayan had woven a vast net around herself—for protection, but it had trapped her too.
This net was unbreakable. To tear it free, destroy it, rebuild it… it would take immense energy and courage.
“I’m scared. I don’t dare.”
From childhood to now, Lin Huayan had only ever feared two things.
And today was the second time Zhou Chunping heard her daughter say she was “afraid.”
She couldn’t recall exactly how many years ago the first time was, but she remembered that year—Lin Huayan had just started her second year of high school.
And right before that, in the final exams of her first-year spring semester, among the five or six hundred students in her grade at the powerhouse Huai’an No. 8 Middle School, she’d scored second overall.
But that “glory” came only once. In the years after that summer, Lin Huayan lived in a spiral of self-doubt and anxiety.
She never smiled again.
“Don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid. If you want to love, then love. No one can control you, and no one has the right to. Just follow your heart.”
Zhou Chunping patted her daughter gently, over and over, like soothing a fussy baby. “I’m sorry, Huayan. It’s been so long since Mom held you like this. My good girl, no matter who you love, no matter what you do—you’re always Mom’s pride. Always.”
…
Lou Yixuan’s illness had tormented her for over a week, and the worst days had her hooked up to an IV in the hospital.
On this Wednesday after the holiday, she showed up at Tianmu Middle School for lunch, her hand bruised from needle marks.
She ripped off her mask with glee—the air tasted fresher, the food more flavorful.
After the meal, Lin Huayan mentioned the souvenir she’d brought for her back at the dorm and invited her to head to the Dormitory Building to pick it up.
Teacher Du and Teacher He, who’d received their souvenirs on the first day back at work, exchanged a glance. One said she had to have a heart-to-heart with a student at noon; the other said she needed to run out and buy something.
In short: We’re staying away from the dorm for now.
Lin Huayan’s trip with her parents and the souvenirs she’d brought for them—they’d only learned about it when work resumed.
She’d first handed two portions to Du Heming next door, asking her to pass one to Teacher He.
Then she’d posted in the Meal Buddies Group explaining where the souvenirs came from, and specifically @’d Lou Yixuan to say hers would be ready on Wednesday.
Lou Yixuan had said thanks, figuring Lin Huayan would just bring it during lunch.
But instead…
Lin Huayan was inviting her to the dorm!
Now, what kind of fool invites a friend over to give them a gift, only to hand it over at the door and send them packing?
Lin Huayan might be emotionally guarded, but she wasn’t foolish.
So this “invitation” she’d extended wasn’t just about going upstairs and waiting at the door for a handover.
For some reason, even back in the cafeteria, Lou Yixuan’s mind was racing. By the time they walked from there to the dorm, her nerves were frayed with anticipation.
But before their feet even reached the elevator, Lin Huayan’s phone buzzed.
