Chapter 52

During the time Lou Yixuan and the others soaked in the hot springs, Lin Huayan had fetched her laptop from the car and brought it into the room.

There was still one last meeting for the semester tomorrow morning.

As the organizer and host, Lin Huayan couldn’t afford to neglect or slack off on it.

Afraid the hairdryer’s noise would disturb Lin Huayan, Lou Yixuan only blow-dried for three minutes before stopping.

After her shower, she changed back into her sweater. With all that residual heat, she didn’t bother with a jacket. Seeing Lin Huayan still at the desk facing her computer, Lou Yixuan grabbed her earphones, put them on, and dragged a chair out to the balcony.

For one thing, she wanted to take in the garden and distant mountain views. For another, she was letting her hair air-dry naturally.

Lin Huayan had no heart for work. Just a few minutes later, she shut down the laptop.

She rose, fetched Lou Yixuan’s down jacket from the entryway, and stepped onto the balcony to drape it over her shoulders. “It’s cold out here. You just got over a cold—don’t catch another chill.”

“Thanks.” Lou Yixuan held her phone in her left hand and adjusted the jacket with her right to keep it from slipping.

Seeing the music app open on Lou Yixuan’s screen, Lin Huayan felt a flicker of mischief. “What are you listening to?”

She hoped Lou Yixuan might offer her one earbud, sharing the music between them. But Lou Yixuan didn’t.

Instead, she disconnected the Bluetooth and switched on the phone’s speaker.

“I’m listening to the greatest hits compilation from Tomorrow’s Echo. Back in September, when we watched the sunrise at the Military Training Base, we talked about that show. Does Teacher Lin remember?”

“Yeah, I do.”

The host was Ming You, a Haifan alumna from the same school but different department as Lou Yixuan—a brave lesbian, married to a university professor.

Lin Huayan remembered every key detail from that conversation.

She thought Lou Yixuan might say more.

Maybe share her thoughts on a particular song, ask if she liked the current track and switch if not, or drop another meaningful mention of Ming You.

None of that happened.

Lou Yixuan simply gazed quietly into the distance, watching the far-off mountains gradually lose their color.

Lin Huayan had no choice but to stand silently behind her, keeping her company.

Dusk spread like a drop of ink from beyond the mountains. At first, it was just a smudge of shadow on the horizon, but soon the entire range was veiled in a thin gauze.

The garden’s path lights and landscape lamps flickered on all at once, like strings of scattered stars and moons, twinkling in the thickening night.

A night breeze swept across the balcony, carrying the distinctive grassy, woody scent of the hills.

It smelled a bit like…

A bit like that autumn on Xiaoniu Peak, the scent they’d caught back then.

Only when the distant mountains blurred into a single winding silhouette, fully separating day from night, did Lin Huayan rest her hand on Lou Yixuan’s shoulder. “It’s getting late. Time to go.”

“Lin Huayan.” Lou Yixuan’s response was to call her full name once more.

She pointed into the distance. “Look at those lights. Don’t they look like sparks from the gods, scattered across the mortal world?”

Be it night or day, there would always be light. Always hope.

At that moment, the song on the phone sang out—

How have you been lately? Is your health okay?

Unless we never loved each other from the start…

…

The farm area was a good distance from the hot spring hotel—over half an hour on foot, but just ten minutes by sightseeing cart.

Lin Huayan and the others didn’t head downstairs too early. In the lobby, she checked her watch; walking would be too rushed. “I’ll drive.”

Just then, a sightseeing cart pulled up returning. Du Heming dashed out and spotted it. “Teacher Lin, no need—you won’t have to drive. The cart’s back. There are several other teachers waiting outside too. Rough count, we can all fit.”

Four to a row, they took the last seats, backs to the driver.

Huai’an City’s winters didn’t bring snow, but at the coldest, the wind stung like knives on the face.

Lin Huayan had packed the scarf Lou Yixuan had “returned” for this trip. Now it was wrapped around her neck, warding off the chill.

“Put your down jacket hood up. Don’t let it blow on your head.”

“Okay.”

Lou Yixuan obediently pulled up her hood. As her hand dropped, Lin Huayan caught it, tucking it away between their coats.

That warmth, that touch—it was softer and warmer than the afternoon hot springs.

Lou Yixuan was so blissfully happy she nearly teared up.

Sure, she still had the hand warmer Lin Huayan had given her tucked in her pocket, but how could it compare to the real thing?

To her right sat He Huan. As the cart started, He Huan’s loose hair whipped wildly in the wind.

Du Heming, next to He Huan on the right, got hair flicked in her face—it stung more than it tickled.

Gently.

He Huan pressed down her hair, but the howling wind chilled her face and hands. The next second, a cozy fleece hat settled over her head.

“Borrowing this to block the wind.”

Du Heming thoughtfully smoothed He Huan’s hair, then grabbed her hand and stuffed it into her own down jacket pocket.

With that done, Du Heming smiled at her, rubbing her own hands and breathing on them. She flipped up the collar of her lamb’s wool jacket, tucking hair inside. “My collar blocks wind too.”

This time, He Huan didn’t say “thanks.”

Not that she’d forgotten.

It was just that, as she went to speak, her nose tingled.

Lou Yixuan and Lin Huayan’s hands parted when the cart stopped. He Huan returned the hat the moment they got off.

With a supplementary “thanks.”

Tonight’s roast whole lamb dinner was in an open plaza, a bonfire blazing at its center.

Six tables ringed the fire, each with a whole roasted sheep on a rack in the middle, charcoal glowing beneath.

There were also lamb soup pots, roast chicken, kebabs, and all sorts of barbecue fare.

Cases of beer, baijiu, soft drinks—none in short supply.

“Lou Lou, believe it or not, I’d say Teacher Lin’s using her position for personal gain because of you?”

Du Heming sidled up to Lou Yixuan, whispering as softly as she could. “A couple years back in winter break, someone suggested this spot for a gathering. Teacher Lin shot it down flat.”

Lou Yixuan had suspected as much when she saw the two-day, one-night itinerary in the group chat—especially the roast lamb on night one.

Du Heming’s whisper confirmed Lin Huayan’s “selfish motive,” one sparked by her.

She felt a quiet smugness but played it cool.

Totally off-topic, she replied, “Teacher Du’s hat isn’t just super cute—it’s super useful too. You’re so good at this, Teacher Du.”

“…”

Lin Huayan had shared lunch with Sun He and the others; there was less need to sit together for dinner.

Besides, with the new year approaching, chances to eat with Lou Yixuan were down to just these two or three meals.

“Teacher Lin, sitting with us?” Du Heming asked, though she knew.

“Yeah.”

“This table then? Plenty of space.”

“Sure.”

The seating matched that Teachers’ Day night.

Haifan’s other art teacher was male, so he’d been operating separately from Lou Yixuan.

But for dinner, he ended up at their table—dragged over deliberately by the “bigmouth” Du Heming thoroughly despised.

Du Heming hunched down and whispered in Lou Yixuan’s ear: “What’s that bigmouth’s deal? Why won’t his ulterior motives die?”

“Walls have ears. Don’t badmouth him.”

“They do have ears.”

Du Heming snorted. “Teacher Lin talked to him once about conduct issues. Guess how I know? Teacher Lin’s lips are sealed tighter than a wax jar—she’d never spill. Bigmouth blabbed it everywhere himself. ‘If you’re upright, no fear of shadows oblique. Honest folks don’t speak in riddles or do shady deeds.’ Makes it sound like Teacher Lin’s targeting him, giving him a hard time, putting shoes on him. Who does he think he is? Rotten character, and he bites back at Teacher Lin? Total mad dog.”

“…” Now Lou Yixuan was pissed too.

How many things tied to her—things she didn’t know about—had Lin Huayan kept hidden?

Seeing her face darken, Du Heming smacked her own mouth. “My big mouth again. But Lou Lou, I don’t want you kept in the dark, giving that guy polite smiles. He doesn’t deserve it. Ignore him. No point stooping to a small-time loser’s level.”

“Thanks, Teacher Du. You didn’t overstep.” Lou Yixuan gave her a faint smile. “I know what to do.”

By seven, everyone was gathered. Lin Huayan and Sun He, representing teaching and admin sides, offered a few words—”Relax, eat and drink up”—and the roast lamb feast officially kicked off.

Lou Yixuan was handy with steak, but a whole sheep on the rack? No clue where to start.

She just snapped a photo.

Lin Huayan unwound her scarf and draped it over the chair back, then picked up knife and fork. She reached across to slice meat from the ribs—tenderer than the leg.

The first long strip went to Lou Yixuan’s plate.

The second too.

The third finally to her own.

Du Heming carved from the front leg near the shoulder—decent chewing.

Her first cuts all went to He Huan’s plate.

With someone already “fawning” over Lou Yixuan, she focused on her side—no need to meddle.

“Smells amazing.”

Lou Yixuan leaned in to sniff, then knife in one hand, fork in the other, joyfully sliced and ate.

Up and down, nonstop.

“That good?” Lin Huayan turned her head, smiling at Lou Yixuan’s bulging cheeks.

“Delicious.” Lou Yixuan turned too, meeting her eyes, sheep meat still in her mouth. “Especially when Teacher Lin cuts it.”

A bit of seasoning dusted her lips. Lin Huayan nearly wiped it off by hand.

“Swallow first, then wipe your mouth.” She already had a napkin clutched; instead, she used it to clean her knife.

Then cut a few more pieces for Lou Yixuan.

Lou Yixuan ate happily, savoring every bite.

Spotting the bigmouth across the table glancing their way, Du Heming seethed.

The roast chicken legs were gone, so she tore off a wing for Lou Yixuan. “Crispy outside, tender inside—tastier than legs.”

Then softly: “What’s the deal with you and Teacher Lin?”

Acting like they were about to go public.

Has your progress bar rocketed into the stratosphere?

But Lou Yixuan stared at the wing that dropped from the sky, appetite vanished, hand frozen. Like she’d been hexed.

Lin Huayan noticed, set down her knife, switched to chopsticks, and wordlessly removed the wing.

Du Heming was stunned.

Lou Yixuan ate chicken legs with her in the cafeteria—no reason to skip wings. Who only ate legs and not wings?

Well played. Picky eating, upgraded.

But hey, someone was indulging her.

Too spoiled.

Teacher Lin’s spoiling her rotten.

Who knew the usually aloof Lin, cold to everything, could dote on Lou Lou like this.

I’m shipping it.

Want more.

But couldn’t you two coordinate first?

Was this unconscious flirtation or a deliberate push to announce the “relationship” on this wave?!

Du Heming shook her head, straightened up, and thought, Whatever, not my circus.

Lou Yixuan could manage a few bites of skinless chicken breast or thighs, but skin-on chicken or duck? Not a chance.

By the time she was seventy percent full, people started coming to their table to toast Lin Huayan. Each time, she took half a glass symbolically. The other half? She drank for the incidentally dragged-in Lou Yixuan.

“Alcohol allergy”—said over and over. But what good did it do?

Irrelevant excuses like that? Nobody cared to hear, believe, or mind. They’d just think you were naive, putting on airs.

Lou Yixuan wanted to pull Lin Huayan away, but then—what right did she have?

If she reached out now, how would Lin Huayan, as grade director, hold her ground later? How explain them?

“Teacher Du, you full?”

“…Yeah.” Stuffed, actually. She wasn’t getting drunk tonight—dodged booze where she could. “Burner by the bonfire. Let’s grab some skewers, cut the grease?”

“Sure.”

Lin Huayan was surrounded by admin colleagues; Lou Yixuan’s chair edged farther and farther.

Far enough no goodbye needed. Far enough Lin Huayan wouldn’t even notice them leave the table.

A glance to the right revealed Teacher He, who had somehow been cornered by Teacher Wang Li and another female teacher, while Du Heming wore a pained expression.

Hand in hand, they headed toward the barbecue grill. Lou Yixuan asked, “Teacher Wang and the other one don’t teach the same subjects as Teacher He—what are they chatting her up about?”

Du Heming sighed again and again.

“They’re recommending ‘talents’ to Teacher He—what we commonly call matchmaking prospects.”

“…” Lou Yixuan glanced back at where Lin Huayan sat. Surely no one in that crowd was trying to play matchmaker for her too?

“Don’t worry, put a hundred minds at ease—at least at Tianmu Middle School, no one dares to set up Director Lin with matchmaking prospects.”

“…” It sounded an awful lot like Director Lin had a notorious reputation.

Lou Yixuan felt troubled herself and couldn’t think of any comforting words for Du Heming.

When they reached the barbecue grill, Du Heming scanned the basket of so-called farm-fresh organic veggies picked that very day. She picked out two skewers of pumpkin, two of winter melon, and two of cucumber.

Then, holding up a big handful of melons with a grin, she asked, “Lou Lou, don’t you think we look just like a certain kind of melon right now?”

“A melon?”

“Two little bitter melons.”

“…”

Lou Yixuan grabbed two skewers each of her favorites—shiitake mushrooms and little button mushrooms. Du Heming laughed even harder. “Blue-thin mushrooms, huh?”

“Teacher Du, isn’t that homophone pun a bit outdated?”

“Uh,” Du Heming rolled her eyes, racking her brain but unable to recall just how ancient the meme was—though it was pretty old. “Yeah, it’s from way back, huh. Come on, Lou Lou, can’t I revive an old gag and make a bit of fun in our misery?”

“Fine, fine. Here, I want to eat mushrooms.”

“…” Look at her—spoiled rotten by Director Lin Bigshot.

Du Heming’s melons and mushrooms hadn’t even hit the grill yet when an uninvited guest appeared.

“Teacher Du, Teacher Lou—how could we let two beautiful teachers get their hands greasy with smoke? Tell me what you want to eat, and I’ll serve you.”