Chapter 82

“It’s ready to eat—no need for much, but if you save it for the afternoon, just heat it up in the microwave.”

Am I dreaming? Right?

Lin Huayan’s mouth, sealed tighter than a wax seal, had she made a trip to “Kaifeng” during the May Day holiday to finally unseal it?

How was she suddenly spilling everything?

Lou Yixuan stared blankly, her left thumb digging into her palm, pinching hard—only for Lin Huayan to grab her hand.

She called softly to her, “Yixuan, it’s me. It’s real. I’m right here.”

But the Lou Yixuan Lin Huayan had roused refused her kindness—or rather, she feared that accepting it would only lead to another heartbreak, another shattering reminder that “liking, being suitable, getting together, and going the distance” were four separate things.

Her mind cleared in an instant. She pulled free from Lin Huayan’s grasp. “Teacher Lin, thanks for the kind gesture—I’ve got the thought. But given our current relationship, this could lead to misunderstandings.”

Her rejection this time was firmer than before, not even giving Lin Huayan time to react as she turned and flung open the car door.

If she didn’t move fast, Lin Huayan’s gentleness would capture her again, rooting her feet in place.

Lin Huayan’s right hand was occupied with the items and couldn’t grab her in time.

Before stepping out, Lou Yixuan added, “I won’t drag things out with someone I can’t be with. No matter how much I like her.”

Her expression and tone were both grim. She could silently cherish her love for Lin Huayan for a lifetime, but she couldn’t handle this “ambiguous entanglement.”

That would break her body and soul.

Love wasn’t a game.

She could afford to lose, but she couldn’t afford to play.

“See you next week, Teacher Lin.” With that, Lou Yixuan stepped out empty-handed.

The woman in the car watched that receding figure, her expression helpless, though a faint smile lingered in her eyes.

It was just like making your girlfriend mad, then trying to coax her back—only to make her even angrier.

She glanced at the items in her hand, set them back down, and sent Qin Fengru a voice message: “Qin Zong, you at home or the office right now? Free? Let me treat you to coffee.”

The message had just gone through when someone knocked on her window.

A familiar face.

Lin Huayan rolled down the window, and the person bent over, grinning like a sly fox. “My dear Teacher Lin, need some undercover services? On the house.”

She held up her phone. “Ta-da, my token of loyalty. Great shot, right?”

The photo was a candid of Lin Huayan opening the car door for Lou Yixuan, her hand shielding the frame.

“Chen Qingli, should I take this as a threat?”

“No no no, Teacher Lin, don’t think so badly of me!” Chen Qingli pouted. “Teacher Lou is just kinder than you—that’s why so many people like her.”

“I’m not as kind as her, true.”

“You’re so… refreshingly honest.” Chen Qingli rolled her eyes and straightened up. “Want the photo? If not, I’ll delete it—it’s eating up my storage.”

“Add me on the class group chat—I’ll approve. No need for anything else.”

Chen Qingli gritted her teeth. “You two are alike in that way—cross the river, demolish the bridge! Unload the mill, kill the donkey!”

Lin Huayan questioned that but said nothing more.

These were her and Lou Yixuan’s private matters—she didn’t want students meddling too much.

Chen Qingli grumbled as she added Lin Huayan via the WeChat group. “I’m just shipping a CP here—total thankless task.”

“Your one and only job right now is to study hard. Stir up less trouble, mind less business.”

“Got it, got it—you’re so annoying. Should’ve known better than to come to you. At least Xuan-jie chats with me.”

Chen Qingli turned toward the Teaching Building lobby. “If I’d sent this pic to Xuan-jie, it’d at least score me a coffee. Wasted effort! Friend request sent—approve if you want. Bye!”

Lin Huayan called after her endless griping. “Chen Qingli.”

The girl whipped around impatiently. “What?”

Lin Huayan lifted the bag with the coffee and dessert meant for Lou Yixuan. “Coffee. Want some?”

Chen Qingli’s eyes lit up, though something felt off.

“Sure.”

She restrained her suspicions, took the bag, and grinned. “Teacher Lou turned down your afternoon tea, huh? Deserved. But I don’t mind—this one’s on you and Teacher Lou together. Thanks, Teacher Lin!”

Once Chen Qingli was gone, Lin Huayan approved her friend request and immediately got the candid photo.

[Chen Qingli: Keep it up! Tell our homeroom teacher to let us eat the wedding candy soon! 😍]

Lin Huayan didn’t reply. She just downloaded the original and favorited it.

Then she saw Qin Fengru’s response: [Whoa, rare sight. Come on—meet at the café downstairs from my office.]

[Lin Huayan: No coffee left. Dumplings?]

Qin Fengru called right away. “Lin Huayan, you messing with me? Cut the crap—half an hour to my office, or else.”

“Got it, Qin Zong.”

…

Lou Yixuan’s fieldwork spot wasn’t far from Huai’an—it was in a southwestern ethnic autonomous prefecture, at altitudes of 3,000 to 6,000 meters.

High mountains and canyons, glacial lakes, snow-capped pure lands.

Once there, she realized three days weren’t tight—they were woefully short.

So she didn’t rush through like a tourist. She even skipped part of the itinerary for next time.

Monday through Wednesday, she posted a Moments update with photos each afternoon.

Lin Huayan liked every one.

Qin Fengru did too.

And commented once: [Little Teacher Lou, don’t always go alone. Bring someone close next time—24/7 full service.]

Before Lou Yixuan could reply, another came: [Especially during winter and summer breaks.]

She finally responded briefly: [Thanks for the concern, Sister Qin.]

Wednesday night at 10:30, Lou Yixuan sat in Lu Lingxuan’s car, eyes closed in rest, as her phone buzzed. Exhausted, she ignored it.

It buzzed again soon after.

Not a message—a call.

She groggily opened her eyes, checked the screen, and snapped awake.

“Who is it? Why not pick up?” Lu Lingxuan glanced over. “Oho, Teacher Lin…”

Her teasing cut off as Lou Yixuan shushed her and answered. “Hello, Teacher Lin.”

Lin Huayan’s voice came through, full of concern. “You back today? Home safe?”

No Bluetooth earbuds—Lou Yixuan pressed the phone to her left ear, leaning toward the door. “Yeah, back. On the way home.”

“Driving yourself?”

“Friend picked me up.”

“Everything go smoothly?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“…” Lou Yixuan let silence stretch the call.

Lu Lingxuan snuck several glances.

After about half a minute of quiet, thinking she’d dozed off mid-call, Lu Lingxuan heard: “We’ll see tomorrow.”

Then: “Yeah, goodbye.”

Lu Lingxuan gaped. “Damn, Xuan—you’re ice-cold with her now? What’s next, world domination?”

Yeah, Lou Yixuan thought. Ice-cold with Lin Huayan—what can’t I do now?

“Big baby, quit bugging me. I’m beat.”

“Okay okay, no bugging. Sleep. Twenty minutes to go.”

Lu Lingxuan didn’t always pick up Lou Yixuan, but the last hospitalization had scared the whole family.

She’d insisted on airport pickup tonight.

Lou Yixuan couldn’t argue against their barrage and sent her flight details.

At the airport, Lu Lingxuan checked her head to toe—no external or internal injuries—before reporting back safe.

Lou Yixuan’s fieldwork was “work,” their shared pride. No one would stop her.

All they could do was logistics.

Home late and wiped out, Lou Yixuan showered and crashed. Only Thursday morning did she see Lin Huayan’s later WeChats.

[Lin Huayan: Sending pics first. Check when free.]

[Lin Huayan: Never done formal gifts before. Yours and Teacher Du’s tastes align more—help pick?]

Tomorrow was Du Heming’s birthday dinner. Lin Huayan wanted gift ideas.

No way to refuse.

It’s for Teacher Du. Not Lin Huayan.

Lin Huayan’s pics: massage gadgets, eye heat masks, wireless charging night lights, scented Bluetooth speakers, Polaroids—AI e-com suggestions, mostly gimmicky junk.

[Lou Yixuan: Practical small appliances like hair dryers or mini steam irons. Or useful gadgets: Bluetooth mouse, smart projector.]

Gifting was an art; she wasn’t expert.

After her suggestions, Lou Yixuan ordered a birthday cake online and messaged Teacher He.

Avoided duplicate cakes, subtly reminded her to get Du Heming something.

Physical gifts outlast cake.

Longer shelf life.

[Lin Huayan: Got it. Thanks.]

…

Friday evening, Lou Yixuan drove to Tianmu Middle School to pick up Du Heming and the others.

Last night at the cafeteria with Du Heming, she’d said: Lou Lou, tomorrow I want Teacher He and Teacher Lin for drinks. Can you drive us?

—Of course. Can’t drink with you? I’ll chauffeur. You and Teacher He go wild—I’ve got you after.

—You rascal. Don’t think I don’t know what’s in that head of yours? Naughty stuff?

—Yep.

—Lou Yixuan! Morals in decline! World going to hell!

The cake went in the trunk. He Huan and Du Heming took the back, Lin Huayan shotgun.

Du Heming glowed these two weeks, pink love-bubbles everywhere Lou Yixuan saw her.

No wonder her smug spring-in-step.

Last weekend, He Huan went home Friday night but returned Saturday, hitting Du Heming’s dorm to watch Jingping TV’s culture variety show.

Du Heming sensed her worries, so she sat quietly, properly.

He Huan napped leaning on her.

When she woke…

She kissed Du Heming first.

Du Heming spilled it all in an excited post-midnight call to Lou Yixuan.

Since learning Teacher Lin’s lip was bitten by Lou Yixuan, Du Heming held nothing back—shared every joy.

What secrets among the four?

Dinner spot was pre-sent to Lou Yixuan.

Setting nav, she said, “Teacher Du, per your orders—no gift from me.”

Du Heming leaned over the front seat, poking her shoulder. “One more time—eat more tonight, talk less.”

Lou Yixuan grinned. “Talk less? Tough. Eat more? Doable.”

Seeing the back seat pair made her happy.

Not teasing—just a tiny wicked itch to see Du Heming blush.

“Lou Lou, what’ll make you behave?” Du Heming negotiated.

“Hush money.” Lou Yixuan held out her palm. “My mouth’s picky—a cool million minimum.”

“A million! Highway robbery!” Du Heming smacked her. “A slap’s more like it.”

The slap landed firm—palm to palm, a sharp smack in the closed car.

She pulled back, unaware if it’d hurt—hadn’t stung her own hand.

But…

“Let me see.”

Lin Huayan, bold as brass in front of her and He Huan, lifted Lou Yixuan’s smacked right hand to check her palm for redness.

Overkill?

Du Heming eyed her own right hand—no red.

It was Lou Lou—how could she hit hard? What was Lin Huayan on about?

Framing her!

The nerve!

He Huan saw this and clasped Du Heming’s hand as well. “Teacher Du, let me see your one million.”

She wasn’t worried about how hard Du Heming’s slap had been. She just wanted to pull Du Heming’s attention back a bit. Whenever Lou Yixuan was around, Du Heming always loved to horse around with her.

In the past, she hadn’t understood her own feelings, so that was that. But now that she did, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of jealousy over how much attention Du Heming lavished on Lou Yixuan.

Who doesn’t want to be the only one in the eyes of the person they love?

Held by the hand, Du Heming froze for a second before catching on. She hooked her fingers back and scooted her butt closer, shrinking the distance between her and He Huan.

Lou Yixuan’s reaction up ahead was the polar opposite.

She yanked her hand away without a care, said nothing, gripped the steering wheel, and hit the road.

Lin Huayan had never seen Lou Yixuan this cold and detached—especially not to her.

A wordless bitterness spread from her chest, like a pair of hands brutally ripping open her skin, plunging inside to snap her ribs, and tearing her heart right out.

But then she remembered how Lou Yixuan had endured even more of this pain than her, time and again. So she drank poison to quench her thirst and swallowed it all down.

The restaurant Du Heming had booked was on the city’s largest cultural and creative street.

It was a newly opened creative spot with three floors, each lobby decked out in a different style.

There were thirty private rooms in total, and every single one had a unique theme.

Classic movies from home and abroad, exotic locales, trendy anime, blockbuster mobile games—you name it.

Du Heming had reserved a campus-themed room.

The walls featured a blackboard and chalk. Beneath it sat a small podium and teacher’s desk, with a custom four-seater table mimicking student desks just beyond.

To the right as they entered, a storage shelf held brand-new workbooks, pencil cases, watercolor pens, drawing paper, and the like.

All four of them were teachers now. At school, they had to uphold the image of educators at all times, bound by ethics and morals until they’d lost themselves entirely.

She’d picked this theme on purpose—to let them shed their burdens in this familiar setting, to teach tirelessly while finally cutting themselves some slack.

Lin Huayan carried the birthday cake alongside He Huan as they trailed behind, while Lou Yixuan and Du Heming led the way.

“Lou Lou, I’ve got an assignment for you.”

Once inside, Du Heming dragged Lou Yixuan up to the podium. She pointed at the box of colored chalk, then switched gears. “Actually, no—it’s a birthday wish I need your help with.”

Lou Yixuan ventured a guess. “Blackboard art?”

“That’d take forever. No need for anything fancy—just draw some little stick figures with me.”

Du Heming grabbed a yellow piece of chalk and tilted her head toward the other two. “Teacher He, Teacher Lin, have a seat and order first. Lou Lou and I are gonna play for a bit.”

He Huan glanced at Lin Huayan with a smile and a sigh. “What big kids they are.”

To her surprise, Lin Huayan chimed in this time. “As long as they’re happy, what’s wrong with staying kids forever?”

“Yeah.”

The pair at the podium focused on their drawing, while the two at the table focused on the menu.

Du Heming sneaked a glance back amid her doodling. “Teacher He, get whatever you want—I’m not picky. Teacher Lin, you know what Lou Lou likes to eat, right? Just order for her.”

No sooner had the words left her mouth than she yelped, “Ow!”

Someone had poked her in the small of her back.

Lou Yixuan pulled back and shot her a glare.

Du Heming glared right back.

She even bit her lower lip for emphasis.

Lou Yixuan felt like the sky was crashing down. She never should’ve let her mouth run and told Du Heming about biting Lin Huayan’s lip.

All Lin Huayan’s fault.

She took a deep breath and squinted into a smile.

Today was Teacher Du’s birthday. Endure.

About fifteen minutes later, the two finished their chalk masterpiece—though Lou Yixuan had done nearly all the actual drawing, with Du Heming mostly calling the shots.

At the end, Du Heming scribbled the first letter of each of their surname pinyins at the little figures’ feet. She tossed the chalk aside, dusted off her hands, and declared, “OK, mission accomplished.”