Chapter 79

Responsible?

Lin Huayan actually wanted her to take responsibility for her?

Lou Yixuan stared back at Lin Huayan in disbelief. She feared she’d misheard—no, she must have misheard. She desperately wanted Lin Huayan to repeat it.

But unfortunately, someone new arrived at the door, looking for Lou Yixuan.

“Teacher Lou!” Chen Qingli came running up the stairs and froze at the doorway. “T-Teacher Lin, you’re here too?”

Nearly a semester in, with constant punishments of copying or doing worksheets, she now kept her distance from Lin Huayan out of respect and fear. No more using her “diligent student” act to cozy up and grab attention.

The boundless energy she’d brought to Class 9 had been whittled down to five or six points by Lin Huayan—barely enough to keep her bouncing around.

Lin Huayan casually crumpled the bloodstained tissue into a ball and tossed it into the trash bin by the desk. Then she turned to Chen Qingli. “Teacher Lou just recovered from illness and needs quiet rest for lunch. Whatever it is, ask during afternoon class.”

“…” Lou Yixuan just smiled without a word, nodding at Chen Qingli.

Listen to your homeroom teacher.

I am too.

Chen Qingli stood rigidly by the doorframe, playing it safe and minding her own business. But she hadn’t come for nothing—she didn’t want to leave empty-handed.

“Um, I won’t take up much of Teacher Lou’s time. I just want you to give me my midterms privately, not have Zhang Xiao hand them out in class. They’ve all been studying longer; their drawings are way better than mine. I know my limits—mine look like kindergarten scribbles. I’ve got pride too, you know.”

Lou Yixuan was well-liked, with students in the class siding with her. Hardly anyone aired her dirty laundry behind her back.

Over time, through exposure and interaction, Chen Qingli had warmed up to Lou Yixuan too.

Plus, Class 9 was far more relaxed than others—three art classes a week, each basically her free period.

She had no stunning talent for art; she’d muddle through these three years, then head abroad for university.

Easy street beat crashing and burning.

Lou Yixuan agreed to Chen Qingli’s request. “Sure, come in. I’ll grab it for you.”

With Chen Qingli entering, surely Lin Huayan—this great Buddha—wouldn’t stick around playing rogue, right?

In their past back-and-forths, Lin Huayan had been almost entirely passive. She took the lead, so it always felt like advance or retreat was in her control, her choice.

That’s why Lin Huayan’s sudden “initiative” today truly startled her.

Gentle would’ve been one thing, but this fierce, unreasonable aggression left her a bit rattled. Not that she feared what Lin Huayan might do to her, but that she’d surrender without principles again.

Wouldn’t that mean stumbling blindly down the old path, getting hurt and “dying” all over?

Seeing Chen Qingli approach, Lin Huayan left with a casual “See you in afternoon class” and headed for the door, brushing past her.

“…”

Lou Yixuan’s heart raced in panic.

She truly didn’t dare imagine how Lin Huayan planned to teach with that “busted lip.”

How was she supposed to lecture while staring at the lip she’d bitten open?

Scheming Lin Huayan, deliberately messing with her.

Annoying.

“Teacher Lou? Teacher Lou? What’re you thinking about?” Chen Qingli waved a hand in front of her face. “Did Old Lin give you trouble?”

Snapping back, Lou Yixuan said, “…Old Lin?”

She’d only heard Qin Fengru call her that. Now students too?

“Yeah! Can’t call her the utterly disrespectful ‘Lin Menopause,’ but plain old ‘Old Lin’ should be fine, right? She’s… so high and mighty. Call her ‘Little Lin’ instead?”

“Chen Qingli, you can be friendly with teachers, but basic respect…” Lou Yixuan said sternly, though inwardly she wanted to laugh.

“Aw, don’t lecture me—I don’t wanna hear it.” Chen Qingli waved her off and leaned against the desk.

“I heard you and Old Lin were super close last semester. You even had a ship name, ‘Yihui’—that subtle, unspeakable vibe. What happened? Relationship soured this term?”

Lou Yixuan didn’t get mad; she just smiled. “Gossiping about a teacher to her face? You’re the first I’ve met.”

Chen Qingli had this wild streak, like an untamable mustang.

Lou Yixuan had no interest in breaking horses—she preferred letting them run free in the wild, living as true horses.

“Teachers are human too, with emotions, desires, meals, bathroom breaks, and gossip. Haven’t I been gossiped about by teachers? Am I wrong?”

“…You’re right.” Lou Yixuan was patient with Chen Qingli; she’d realized the girl wasn’t bad deep down.

People came in all varieties—how could everyone have the same personality?

That incident with injuring the dorm auntie? Multiple witnesses confirmed it was an accident, not intentional. Chen Qingli’s real issue was refusing to admit fault, not shirking responsibility for harm.

A kid beaten violently by her father since childhood would get hit regardless of admitting wrong or not.

Maybe, in Chen Qingli’s worldview, denying fault was her last shred of pride and dignity.

“So, whisper to me: did you two get a bad ending?”

“…” Was Chen Qingli blind? Hadn’t she seen Lin Huayan’s bleeding lip or the thermos in her hand?

If she’d noticed either, Lou Yixuan doubted she’d ask such a pointless question.

If it were Zhang Xiao who’d walked in on that scene, she’d be hyped, staying up all night to churn out fanfic.

Lou Yixuan didn’t answer, just pulled out her drawing and pointed to the door. “I suggest you hustle after her. If you catch up, ask the other party yourself—see what she says.”

“Teacher Lou, you underestimate me. I dare to ask.”

“Mm, I know you dare. You fear nothing. So after you ask, fill me in.”

“I get why they call you…” Chen Qingli caught herself, grabbed the drawing. “No wonder they call you ‘Black-Hearted Lou.’ You’re so sly, Teacher Lou.”

“Flattery.”

Chen Qingli laughed at her deadpan “Black-Hearted Lou” act—the contrast was adorable.

She stood at attention with the drawing, bowed slightly with a grin. “Fine, I’ll follow Teacher Lou’s advice and go ask. You can stop me now if you want.”

“I’m not stopping you. In fact, I’ll give you three words—”

Chen Qingli’s curiosity peaked.

But Lou Yixuan went quiet. She urged, “Teacher Lou, say it! What three words?”

“Just do it.“

Lou Yixuan played coy, tracing three lowercase English letters on the desk with her fingertip: g, k, d.

Chen Qingli mouthed them once, then stared at Lou Yixuan in disbelief. “You’re not joking?”

“Not joking.”

Lin Huayan had dared to force a kiss on her—in school, in the office. Returning the favor once wasn’t overkill, right?

“Scared?”

“…Scared of what?” Chen Qingli steeled herself. “I’m going!”

Once she left, Lou Yixuan leisurely settled into the window-side chair, touching her lips. Lost in thought, she chuckled to herself.

The midday sun blazed; even without direct exposure, sitting by the window grew warm.

Lou Yixuan dragged her chair back to her desk, feeling a bit drowsy.

She was about to nap when her phone buzzed and rang—a video call.

From Lin Huayan.

She stared at the screen for ages until it auto-hung from no answer. Only then did she relax, slumping over the desk.

【Lin Huayan: Why didn’t you pick up?】

【Lou Yixuan: Sleepy. Napping. Don’t wanna.】

【Lin Huayan: Chen Qingli came running to ask if I’m as harsh on you as on them, if I scared you off and you don’t want to be friends anymore.】

【Lou Yixuan: What’d you say?】

【Lin Huayan: Dinner tonight, I’ll tell you then.】

【Lou Yixuan: Pass.】

Lin Huayan didn’t reply. Lou Yixuan figured the repeated rejections would make her drop it, like before.

Always mindful of Lin Huayan’s feelings, retreating beyond the line when unreciprocated.

But Lin Huayan acted like a changed woman. That afternoon, she showed up smiling for the first class, then blocked Lou Yixuan at the art classroom after the last one.

In the hallway, Lou Yixuan feigned composure. “What’s the meaning of this, Teacher Lin?”

“Waiting for you to eat.” She’d checked with Du Heming and He Huan earlier—Lou Yixuan hadn’t planned dinner with them.

“…”

Chen Qingli emerged from the classroom lugging a paint bucket for show, inserting herself between them. “Teacher Lou, forgot to tell you—Teacher Lin said at lunch she’d reflect on it.”

Lou Yixuan shot her a questioning look: Reflect on what?

Chen Qingli played coy too, refusing to spill. “Ask Teacher Lin yourself. Oh? So Teacher Lou’s that scared of her? Sigh, guess Teacher Lin really does need to reflect. You two chat—I’m off to wash brushes.”

She even winked through the window at the eavesdropping shippers inside. Even Zhang Xiao gave her a thumbs-up in admiration.

Arrogance had its perks—at least this round, they were Team Chen Qingli. Why? She’d brought back earth-shattering, ultra-ultra-ultra explosive news at lunch.

Teacher Lin went to the office to find Teacher Lou!

Teacher Lin left the office carrying a thermos!

Teacher Lin’s lower lip was busted!

Zhang Xiao was ecstatic, skipping her nap to hole up behind her curtain and type furiously. Just add details tonight, polish it up, and upload to Lofter.

Lou Yixuan glanced back at the window; Zhang Xiao failed to hide, flashing her a goofy smile.

“School’s almost out. Early dinner or later?” Lin Huayan checked the time.

“Early.” Wait—no. Why am I the one cornered? The embarrassed one?

Shouldn’t it be Lin Huayan?

When had Lin Huayan’s skin gotten this thick?

Lou Yixuan strode ahead without regard for Lin Huayan’s pace. After a dozen meters with no click of heels, she stopped and looked back.

There was Lin Huayan, umbrella in hand from who-knows-where, approaching her.

“Sun’s still harsh. Use this to block it.”

The umbrella was from Zhang Xiao—Teacher Lin, Teacher Lin, give it to Xuan—er, take an umbrella. South Gate’s right in the sun.

Lin Huayan had smiled and taken it, thanking Zhang Xiao.

Lou Yixuan waited for her to catch up, then huffed. Wasn’t it her class rep’s umbrella?

“Your class rep’s thoughtful,” Lin Huayan said sincerely.

“Teacher Lin wants it? It’s yours.”

Sensing the pettiness, Lin Huayan didn’t bite.

Lou Yixuan ignored her rhythm, walking at her own whim—but the umbrella overhead stayed steady, mostly shading her.

At the school gate, Old Man Zhang waved from under the awning.

“Teacher Lin, Teacher Lou—you two finally have time to grab a meal together again?”

Finally.

Again.

Lou Yixuan smiled faintly.

Lin Huayan replied, “Teacher Lou’s been busy this term. Hard to pin down.”

“…” Lou Yixuan’s smile vanished. Had Lin Huayan ever tried to schedule her before today? Now she was lying?

May’s sky was clear and blue, washing the world in purity.

Even amid the noisy traffic, Lou Yixuan felt no irritation.

Maybe the sky was too azure, the clouds too cute—or maybe, just because the person beside her was Lin Huayan.

At that familiar crosswalk, they stood side by side, waiting for the light.

Lin Huayan shielded her from most of the sun with the umbrella and her body.

In the flow of cars, a breeze brought coolness—and a faint scent from Lin Huayan.

Not perfume, but a cool fragrance named “Lin Huayan”—like mountain spring water, like morning dew on petals, refreshing the soul.

Lou Yixuan inhaled, swallowed, and turned to her. “Teacher Lin.”

“Mm?”

“…” The words caught in Lou Yixuan’s throat.

She suddenly remembered: that time delivering the painting, Lin Huayan had invited her to dinner too. Various reasons, it fell through.

Or not entirely—she’d eaten Lin Huayan’s meal, just not with her.

So she couldn’t blame Lin Huayan for “talking nonsense.”

“The light’s green.”

As the red light switched to green, Lou Yixuan’s thoughts were still adrift, and Lin Huayan shifted the umbrella to her other hand. Her right hand reached out directly, clasping Lou Yixuan’s, and led her across the street.

It wasn’t until her feet touched down on the road, moving as if of their own accord, and she heard Lin Huayan say again, “It’s fine. When I’m with you, you can daydream right through crossing the street.”

Only then did Lou Yixuan truly believe it—her hand was gripped tightly in Lin Huayan’s.

On this sunny day.

On the roadside, just dozens of steps from school.

On that very zebra crossing where Lin Huayan had “scolded” her.