Chapter 66 Part 2

Lin Huayan handed the clothes into the bathroom. “Pants and top are new—bought them before last year’s sports meet, never worn. The white T-shirt’s been worn twice or thrice. There’s slippers in the bathroom. Run a hot shower, or at least your feet. Don’t wear the wet shoes—change and come out; I’ll get you socks and shoes that fit.”

If she’d heard those words last year, Lou Yixuan would have burst with uncontainable joy, begging Lin Huayan for a hug, even a kiss.

But today, not a shred of happiness.

Her rain-soaked heart felt terrifyingly numb.

“Got it, thanks, Teacher Lin.” She took off her crossbody bag to set it on the laundry platform too.

Lin Huayan emerged from the bathroom and intercepted the bag halfway, not letting it touch the platform. “I’ll put it in the room for you. Go change first.”

“Mm, thanks.”

The laundry platform held clean laundry supplies; Lin Huayan kept it spotless, the pure white tiles showing no stains.

She doesn’t mind, so what was Lin Huayan fussing over?

In the bathroom, Lou Yixuan stripped off her wet clothes and wanted to wash her face first, but there was no sink inside—only outside.

Makes sense; school dorm bathrooms were uniform, no space for extra vanities.

Her feet were pruned from soaking in the boots.

She tossed the sodden socks straight in the trash, took down the showerhead, and ran hot water for two minutes until sensation returned, her feet gradually regaining color.

The M-size tracksuit fit her perfectly.

On Lin Huayan? Maybe a tad small, but the size and color suited her far better, more reasonably and fittingly.

The bathroom door opened. Lin Huayan, waiting outside, looked her over, her gaze settling on Lou Yixuan’s right hand.

“Your hand—did you bump it?”

From a distance, Lin Huayan asked softly. Rain still pattered on the balcony; Lou Yixuan couldn’t hear clearly.

She stepped closer to Lin Huayan. “The clothes fit great. Thanks.”

Up close, the bruise on the back of Lou Yixuan’s hand stood out more. Lin Huayan couldn’t help reaching out, but Lou Yixuan flinched back as if startled.

One step closer, one step farther.

The chasm between them had never truly closed.

Lin Huayan’s raised hand fell again. She asked once more, “The injury on the back of your right hand—does it hurt? Is it bad?”

Hand back?

Lou Yixuan caught the key words this time. She lifted her hand to eye the bruise shifting from red to purple, dismissing it lightly. “Hasn’t Teacher Lin ever bumped hers? Does it hurt? Do I need to answer?”

She lowered her hand, lifted her gaze to the woman opposite. “Do you want to hear ‘It hurts,’ or ‘It doesn’t’? Hurt or not makes no difference, but I can tell you clearly—it’s not serious. It can still hold a paintbrush, still grip an umbrella.”

I can hold an umbrella for myself, make a living for myself. Lin Huayan, you don’t need to worry about me at all.

“Good as long as it’s nothing. Wait on the balcony; I’ll get the hairdryer.”

The hairdryer was in a drawer of the bookcase.

Lin Huayan had wanted to help blow-dry Lou Yixuan’s hair, but seeing her guarded posture, she let it go. Instead, she plugged in the hairdryer by the vanity mirror on the balcony and handed it over. “Don’t worry about the hair on the floor. I’ll take care of it.”

“Okay, thanks.”

Lou Yixuan took the hairdryer and started drying her hair. As she bowed her head, she noticed the umbrella was gone from the bathroom sink.

Lin Huayan sure has a lot of these little gestures.

But she had neither the energy nor the mood to torment herself with overthinking anymore. No matter how much I think, isn’t the outcome the same?

Since Lin Huayan wanted to play the role of devoted friend and colleague, she’d go along with the act.

After drying her hair, Lou Yixuan went back into the room and saw that Lin Huayan had already placed the sneakers by the chair, with a pair of white socks neatly laid out on top.

So thoughtful it’s like having a… personal butler.

“Does Teacher Lin want to say these shoes are from last year too, never worn?”

“…” Lin Huayan paused, then shook her head. “I’ve had them for two years, worn them once. Half a size bigger than yours, so they shouldn’t be too loose on you.”

Her own shoes were usually just one size larger than Lou Yixuan’s.

A half-size difference in sneakers—hers fit perfectly, so they should be comfortable enough for Lou Yixuan.

“The socks are new. Wear them without worry.”

The direction things were heading made Lou Yixuan want to laugh. A bitter laugh—so bitter, so damn funny.

Turns out, only when I’m miserable or in pain does Lin Huayan offer this boundless, shameless care.

Am I really that miserable?

Compared to the truly wretched people in the world, she had more than enough. She wasn’t miserable at all.

“Teacher Lin.”

Lou Yixuan called out suddenly. Under Lin Huayan’s questioning gaze, she walked over, pulled out her phone from her bag on the desk. “Let’s settle the bill. Otherwise, I can’t wear these clothes and shoes with a clear conscience. I understand and accept your concern and kindness, but please understand and respect my feelings too, okay?”

“…” Lou Yixuan’s dilemmas were always impossible to answer.

“Is that okay, Teacher Lin?”

“…Fine.”

She couldn’t tell Lou Yixuan to wash them and return them later, or bring them back next week for her to clean herself.

Lou Yixuan’s mood and state were already fragile; she couldn’t push her further.

“Transfer me a thousand yuan.” The thousand you originally wanted to pay back—do it now.

“Sorry, let me confirm,” Lou Yixuan stepped closer to Lin Huayan, WeChat chat open. “Teacher Lin, you said a thousand, right?”

“Yes.”

“OK, sent.” With the transfer done swiftly, Lou Yixuan seemed a bit more at ease. She even made a request. “I remember you have disinfectant wipes. Can I have two?”

“Yes.”

The once-dripping sun umbrella now lay dry on the desk beside the small crossbody bag, washed and wiped clean by Lin Huayan while Lou Yixuan had been changing.

Lin Huayan brought the wipes. Lou Yixuan had already put on the shoes and socks.

She sat obediently in the chair and took the entire pack of alcohol-free portable disinfectant wipes. “Thanks.”

From the Security Room to the dorm, Lin Huayan had lost count of the “thanks” she’d heard. She let Lou Yixuan be, bending down to take the flip-flops back to the bathroom.

When she returned, she saw Lou Yixuan meticulously wiping her earbuds and case.

“Did the earbuds get wet too?”

“A little, but it’s fine.” What matters is the grime they picked up in the car, and the rage and resentment I have nowhere to vent.

Lou Yixuan’s focus was entirely on the earbuds.

She wiped every port, every crevice with care, muttering to herself, “These are the birthday gift Kinla gave me last year. Just like the last pair—unique in the whole world. They’re very important to me.”

Very important.

Something money can’t buy.

Something I said I didn’t care about, didn’t mind—but Kinla’s sincere, solemn response of “you can care, it can matter” had salvaged my pride.

Lou Yixuan wiped for a long time, using up the whole pack.

Noticing something off in her behavior, Lin Huayan finally stepped closer.

“Yixuan…”

The one called by name flinched, her hands freezing mid-wipe. The next moment, she buried her face in her palms as tears surged back out uncontrollably.

The feeling of a cherished possession being trampled, of her pride crushed underfoot—it was too humiliating, too infuriating, trapping her in it.

The moment she’d picked up the umbrella from the sewage-soaked ground and shoe edge, rescuing the earbuds—she’d already reached her limit.

The tears were just fashionably late.

Lin Huayan’s outstretched hand halted at Lou Yixuan’s shoulder as she cried and rejected the comfort.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Please, don’t touch me.”

I’m not miserable. I don’t need your merciful pity.

Lin Huayan, if you can’t love me, then stop being good to me. Stop giving me hope. Stop making me think I can be the one special person to you.

Amid Lou Yixuan’s helpless, heartbroken sobs, Lin Huayan bit the inside of her lip, painfully withdrawing her hand.

The girl who once said she wanted to kiss, hug, and caress her every time they met now preferred hiding in someone else’s arms for solace—and wouldn’t even let her touch her.

She’d deeply felt the pain of missing her during those days apart.

But she hadn’t expected the pain of being together to hurt even more.

After her second cry of the day, Lou Yixuan laughed at herself.

Laughing at how stupid I am.

So dumb, so foolish.

She wiped her tears messily with the back of her hand, stood facing Lin Huayan, and forced a tearful smile. “The walk here was too frustrating—everything went wrong, messed up my mindset. Sorry you had to see that. Everything has a first time; practice makes perfect. Next time something like this happens, I’ll have experience and won’t make a fool of myself again…”

But before she finished, Lin Huayan cut in: “It’s not a joke.”

How could it be a joke?

Lou Yixuan’s forced smile faltered. She couldn’t keep up the act anymore—not as a good friend, not as a colleague.

Her clumsy performance couldn’t sustain this play of deep affection. To avoid turning it into a trashy drama, she should stop while she was ahead—call it a wrap.

Why force it and end up with everything in ruins—chicken flying, eggs smashed, both sides wrecked?

“Tha—”

But her “thanks” was cut off by Lin Huayan, who glanced at her watch. “It’s not even one yet. The cafeteria should still have food. Go grab something to eat.”

She pointed to the door. “There’s a transparent auto-open umbrella by the entrance, a bit bigger than your sun umbrella. Take it—no need to return it. And your wet clothes can stay here for now. I can just…”

“No need.”

Lou Yixuan refused softly, retreating hurriedly to the desk. She put on her earbuds, slung her bag over her shoulder. “Teacher Lin, give me a bag. I’ll take the clothes and shoes.”

“I have no afternoon classes. Plenty of time for a nap and laundry. Your skirt, I’ll hand-wash…”

“Lin Huayan, I said no! Is my voice too quiet for you to hear?”

Lou Yixuan, head down, snapped irritably. Then she looked up, glaring at Lin Huayan. “I told you, I have hands and feet…”

“I heard.”

Lin Huayan spun around swiftly, her steps heavy as she moved. “I’ll get you a bag.”