Chapter 74

Xu Yaning viewed the tangled love-hate between Lou Yixuan and Lin Huayan more from a spectator’s perspective.

For one, her bond with Lou Yixuan wasn’t as deep and confiding as the one between Ling Xuan and Lou Yixuan. For another, strictly speaking, she and Lin Huayan were both the older parties in their respective relationships, so their viewpoints tended to align more closely.

“First off, it’s definitely two people who get along comfortably that attract each other and grow to like one another. Once that liking builds up to a certain point, the impulse and desire to be together naturally sprouts.”

“Then it enters the next stage—from harmony to friction, and from friction to true harmony.”

“Yixuan, your liking, your love—it’s too intense, so overwhelming it might crush her impulses and desires toward you. You know, I rejected Ling Xuan more than once.”

“That year we were apart, I closed the shop and traveled to many places, met many people, but no one could nag at me like she did without making me annoyed.”

“For those months she chased me, she’d shout ‘Ya Ning-jie’ in my ear a hundred times a day, no matter if I acknowledged her or gave her the cold shoulder. Every time she called me, she was smiling. Once, I snapped at her, ‘Are you heartless or what?'”

“She grinned back: ‘I do have a heart. Ever since I met you, my heart races every day, and my adrenaline surges too. I told her to get it checked by a doctor…”

“But she didn’t snap back or get mad. Instead, she smugly declared she was perfectly healthy because she was drawing strength and joy from liking me, not draining her joy and energy to like me.”

“She’d just graduated university then, so at first I didn’t take her trash-talk seriously—thought it was just youthful infatuation, her head all heated up with love at first sight. But from that moment, I finally faced her feelings, her pursuit head-on.”

“Emotions are contagious. Gradually, I started getting emotional fulfillment from her liking me, some inexpressible joy.”

“Later…”

Xu Yaning paused for a few seconds, then rubbed her wedding ring and continued: “I didn’t want her to stagnate because of me. I told her to go live her life clearly first—and I said some things to her pretty much like what Teacher Lin said to you.”

Memories of their past joys and sorrows, tears and laughter, flooded back. The image of Lu Lingxuan that day, crying so hard her fake lashes fell off, appeared vividly before her eyes.

“The day she quit the Small Tavern and left, she was just like you are now—crying on one side while eating the food I made for her.”

“…” Lou Yixuan’s eyes, nose, and cheeks were already red from crying.

Xu Yaning’s words made them even redder.

But imagining Lu Lingxuan in a similar plight, she couldn’t help breaking into a tearful smile.

Lu Lingxuan had never mentioned that detail of crying while eating.

“If I’d known you could cry this much, I wouldn’t have added a single grain of salt.”

Xu Yaning opened the glass container with the watermelon and pushed it toward Lou Yixuan. “That’s what I said to Ling Xuan that day. Today, standing in for Teacher Lin, I’ll say it to you.”

Lou Yixuan pouted: “She wouldn’t say something like that.”

She’d just take away the food mixed with tears and stir-fry a fresh plate.

A dwarf in words.

A giant in actions.

Both foolish and clever.

Lou Yixuan picked up a fruit fork, speared a piece of watermelon, and ate it: “She doesn’t even like watermelon that much herself…”

As she spoke, tears welled up again.

Xu Yaning’s bag had no tissues left, so she got up and grabbed the pack from the bedside table.

“I didn’t come to Huai’an entirely for Ling Xuan. I boldly told her to live her life clearly, but I was past thirty before I figured out my own a little.”

“Luckily, Ling Xuan’s stronger than me—she got it way earlier. Before ‘Youjian Little Tavern,’ we both focused on living well ourselves first, understanding ourselves, and that’s how we waited for a fresh start that belonged to us both.”

After hearing Xu Yaning’s version of their past, Lou Yixuan pieced their love story together from both perspectives in her mind.

Envious?

Of course she was.

“Yixuan, once the seed of love is planted, its growth is out of your hands.”

“But if you’ve decided to just guard that one seed, what you need to do is live your own life well while waiting patiently—not rushing, waiting for the wind to rise, the rain to fall, the skies to clear, waiting for flowers to bloom.”

“Maybe that flower won’t bloom in the end, but the wind, rain, and sun? They’ll definitely come.”

In that moment, Lou Yixuan truly understood the profound meaning behind the private room names at “Youjian Little Tavern.”

It wasn’t just about sounding nice or pretty.

“Ya Ning-jie.”

“Yeah?”

“Why didn’t you compare me to that flower?”

“Are you?” Xu Yaning smiled.

“I want to know too… am I?” Lou Yixuan had zero confidence.

Even if she was, she’d bloomed long ago—where would Lin Huayan need to guard or wait for her?

It had always been her guarding, her waiting.

Always.

Lou Yixuan drooped her head, dejected: “You say my love is too heavy, but sometimes I feel so cheap. Compared to Ling Xuan, I’m a textbook bad example. I’m using up my own joy and strength to love her, exhausting myself and crushing her.”

But she’d already held back so much, so much.

“If it’s that tiring…”

Xu Yaning’s second half was still in her throat when Lou Yixuan looked up with a smile: “I only want her. I’ll guard as long as I can.”

She tilted her head, gazing at the distant Ferris wheel: “Wind, rain, sun—they have their beauty. I’m great at framing shots; I can paint a lifetime without flowers.”

As long as the seed was still there, as long as it had never bloomed for anyone else, it was still her seed.

Xu Yaning hummed in acknowledgment: “Life’s like an answer sheet, but unlike those in a college entrance exam, it has no standard answers. Same with love. So whether life or love, the process matters more than the outcome.”

The warm breeze grew stronger, rustling the Venetian blinds.

Lou Yixuan pulled the cord, rolling up all the slats.

Outside the door, faint footsteps blended into the wind, fading away. Yet each step felt like it stamped on the listener’s heart, each more painful than the last.

Waves surged in her eyes and heart alike. At the elevator, she lightly touched the corner of her eye, a smear of wetness blooming under her finger.

…

At six in the afternoon, Lou Yixuan messaged Lin Huayan to thank her again: [Teacher Lin’s food is as delicious as ever. The mushroom and pork dumplings were especially good—I finished them all. Thanks!]

[Lin Huayan: The dumplings were made by me and my mom together. Seasoning the filling is her specialty.]

Staring at this casual, homey reply, Lou Yixuan’s mind blanked.

Her family rarely ate dumplings.

She hadn’t eaten any Lin Huayan made in three years of high school either. Afraid she couldn’t tell handmade from machine-made, she’d even asked Xu Yaning to try one.

Xu Yaning took a bite and said—You can’t even tell? Teacher Lin hand-wrapped those dumplings for you. Sigh, and I ate one.

So Lou Yixuan assumed Lin Huayan had made them. Who knew they involved Lin Mama too!

She knew Lin Mama’s cooking had to be delicious—after all, Lin Huayan’s skills came mostly from her mother—but she’d never tasted Lin Mama’s food.

Now she had.

[Lou Yixuan: In that case, thanks to Auntie too.]

It was the most ordinary polite phrase, the kind that ends conversations in some chats. But as if possessed, Lin Huayan replied!

[Lin Huayan: Received. I’ll pass it on.]

Pass it on?

Pass what?

Lou Yixuan rubbed her eyes, checked the chat several times to confirm she wasn’t seeing things.

Lin Huayan was going to relay her “thanks” to Lin Mama?!

How would Lin Huayan even bring her up to Lin Mama? As a hospitalized colleague? A hospitalized friend?

Would she mention her name, her job, everything about her?

Lou Yixuan spaced out for a good while, then sighed at her overthinking.

She had no reply for Lin Huayan’s message.

She didn’t want to trap herself in a self-drawn prison anymore. She wanted to fly free into nature, into some deserted corner to clean the wounds gouged by storm and rubble, to converse solely with herself and reclaim her original intent.

Whether she decided to leave or stay after this semester, she couldn’t let the pain and unwillingness of unrequited love bind her anymore.

Liking Lin Huayan was her own business—she shouldn’t drag Lin Huayan into struggling in chains too.

Because the consequence of struggling was inevitable full-body wounds.

But Lin Huayan defied norms again, messaging: [I’ll come see you again tomorrow. No food.]

Hadn’t they agreed on next Thursday?

Why suddenly change to tomorrow, visiting the hospital again?

And with such a take-it-or-leave-it tone, no room for discussion.

Who needed her visit.

[Lou Yixuan: Is Director Lin that free? I might discharge tomorrow—don’t waste a trip.]

[Lin Huayan: Not free, but I have time for you. See you tomorrow, Teacher Lou.]

Lou Yixuan felt irritated at heart, yet couldn’t deny that amid ten thousand parts annoyance hid a faint one part sneaky joy. A bit masochistic.

Fine, let fate decide.

If they met tomorrow, fine. If not, it was Lin Huayan’s own wasted time and gas—not her problem.

At six-thirty, Du Heming called with voice chat: “Lou Lou, you didn’t come to class today?”

“Yeah, got a minor injury, need a few days to recover. Nothing serious—Teacher Lin visited at noon, she knows the situation.”

“At home or hospital? I’ll come see you after school tomorrow afternoon. Lou Lou, you can’t play favorites—Teacher Lin can visit, so can I, right?”

“Of course, absolutely.”

Lou Yixuan knew how to set up assists for good friends. “Not sure if I’ll be discharged tomorrow. I’ll message you in the afternoon. Bring Teacher He too— she’ll worry if she hears.”

Who knew how many more times she could help Teacher Du. One at a time.

“Oh, okay. Should we invite Teacher Lin too? Last time you sent the painting, she picked it up from me and looked so pitiful.”

“…” Lin Huayan, pitiful??

“Lou Lou, really—you didn’t see it. She was about to cry.”

“…” Cry—she had seen that.

“Lou Lou…”

“Stop! Teacher Du, do you owe her money or something?”

“…Uh, no.”

“Then you…”

“She’s reluctant to see you go, wants you to stay. And I can’t keep you either.”

“…Alright, I get it—you don’t want me to go, and I don’t want to leave you either.”

See, friendship was great. You could so easily say “I don’t want you to go,” “I want you to stay,” even coquettishly whine, all aboveboard.

Last autumn, she’d coquetted plenty with Lin Huayan too.

Back then, as colleagues, they’d had some happiness too.

…

On Friday, as usual, Lu Ma brought breakfast in the morning. Company matters were handled by Lu Ba and Lu Lingxuan, father and daughter.

“Xuan Xuan, I told your mom about your hospitalization—you’re not mad at godma, right?”

“Nope.” Lou Yixuan held a spoon in her right hand, made a heart with her left. “Godma, I love you—not fast enough.”

“Godma loves you too.” Lu Ma returned the heart.

Lou Yixuan smiled down, scooped a spoonful of porridge and drank: “If only my mom could be like godma one day… Nah, forget it. I like her just as she is now.”

Lu Ma tsked twice: “Aiyo, what’s with you mother-daughter duo? Took 26 years to figure it out? That’s some late enlightenment.”

“Not late. Godma, not late at all.”

Lou Yixuan had just spooned more pumpkin millet porridge when she switched to chopsticks for a glutinous osmanthus rice cake. The half-open door was knocked and pushed open from outside.

Both women looked over. Lu Ma’s gaze held question; Lou Yixuan’s rice cake dropped back into the bowl.

This person—really?

Did she have to come this early?

If she guessed right, it was just past eight-thirty.

Plus, Du Heming had replied last night: Teacher Lin was joining them too, and they’d visit after work—exact spot depending on Lou Yixuan’s afternoon message.

So she thought—truly believed—that Lin Huayan wouldn’t show up at the hospital to try her luck again.

“Yixuan, is that person at the door someone you know?”

“Ah, yes, she is.” Lou Yixuan set down her chopsticks and rose from her chair. “Godmother, that’s… You know how I’m teaching the Art Class at Tianmu Middle School? She’s the homeroom teacher for the Art Class, Teacher Lin.”

With that, she took a few steps toward the door to greet Lin Huayan, who had just walked in. “Teacher Lin, you’re here early.”

Lin Huayan: “Morning.”

“Oh, right—this is my godmother.” Lou Yixuan turned back toward Lu Ma as she spoke. “She’s as close to me as my own mom.”

“Hello, Auntie.” Lin Huayan gave Lu Ma a respectful bow.

“Hello, hello.” Lu Ma stood up too, beaming from ear to ear as she extended her hand. “I’ve heard Yixuan mention you before. She said her colleagues at both Haifan and Tianmu have been great to her, but that her Art Class homeroom teacher, Teacher Lin, has been the best of all.”

Lou Yixuan: “…”

Where did that come from? That was all Lu Lingxuan’s big mouth exaggerating wildly!

But she couldn’t deny it outright right then.

Denying it would undermine Lu Ma’s goodwill, embarrass Lin Huayan, and drag Lu Lingxuan into the mess.

“Really?” Lin Huayan said, shooting Lou Yixuan a meaningful glance. “Looks like Teacher Lou thinks pretty highly of me.”

Lou Yixuan: “…”

She had no comeback for that one. Sure, she hadn’t sung Lin Huayan’s praises to her face, but those words rang truer than pearls.

After shaking hands, Lu Ma looped an arm around her goddaughter. “Yixuan doesn’t praise people much in front of us. With all those colleagues at both schools, you’re the one she mentions the most.”

Lou Yixuan: “…”

Godmother’s small talk comes so naturally—how am I supposed to smooth this over later?

Right now, Lou Yixuan felt a fishbone stuck in her throat. She didn’t feel like any “Teacher Lou” at all—she was just a “naughty student” caught off-guard by her homeroom teacher’s surprise home visit.