Lou Yixuan’s “That smells so good” referred to the tomato hotpot bubbling with steam on the table.
And that bouquet of white roses, she had casually placed it on the bench beside her.
After sitting down, she tore open a wet wipe from the restaurant, cleaned her hands, and gazed at Lin Huayan with eager hunger: “Teacher Lin, I’m starving.”
Lin Huayan: “……”
The little cat she raised, she spoiled herself.
“These are all thinly sliced beef—blanch them for ten or twenty seconds and they’re ready to eat.”
Lou Yixuan nodded vigorously like a pestle in garlic: “Let’s dig in.”
Three plates of beef, two of vegetables, one of snacks—a balanced mix of meat and veg—and both ate until they were eighty percent full.
After the meal, Lin Huayan scanned a code to pay, stood up, and Lou Yixuan followed like an obedient child. It wasn’t until they exited the store that she tentatively reached out to link arms with Lin Huayan.
Lin Huayan sighed inwardly, gently pulled away the hand on her arm, and clasped it instead: “You don’t have to be so cautious.”
“Oh.” Lou Yixuan’s eyes curved into smiles as she snuggled closer playfully. “I was afraid you’d get shy.”
“Me, shy?”
“Yeah, weren’t you shy this morning?”
“……Shut up. Don’t talk.”
“……Okay, Teacher Lin.” Lou Yixuan obediently closed her mouth.
She stayed nervous all the way to the garage, half-afraid Lin Huayan would angrily shake her off—but thankfully, she didn’t.
Once in the car, Lou Yixuan’s first move was to hand the roses to Lin Huayan, declaring her affection: “Lin Huayan, I want to be with you forever.”
Lin Huayan didn’t nitpick why she’d waited until the floral scent mingled with meat fumes to give them. She simply took the flowers and replied with a soft “Mm.”
“Sorry, was I too overly cautious?”
This mall was just a few hundred meters from Haifan Art School—lunch and dinner rushes always brought teachers and students here to eat. She feared being seen too close to Lin Huayan, worried that while Lin was prepared to be with her, going public would need long-term planning.
They’d only just gotten together, and with her working these past couple days, they barely had time to discuss those seemingly minor, invisible “trivial issues” that were actually numerous and critical.
The little time they did have, she’d spent only begging Lin Huayan for “compensation,” lost in shameless, clingy intimacy.
She was no longer that teenage girl from years ago, infatuated and focused solely on expressing and receiving love.
Love’s beginning could be just the two of them consenting—but love’s longevity was never just their affair.
Every hurdle needed advance preparation; every step had to be taken steady and solid. Only then would they have a future.
Lin Huayan sniffed the snow-white roses—no strange smells clung to them, thankfully.
She placed the bouquet in the back seat and caressed Lou Yixuan’s cheek: “When I said I wanted to be with you, I didn’t mean sneaking around. I like you, I like women—it’s nothing to hide.”
She understood Lou Yixuan’s caution and wariness from past rejections and pushes away; she wouldn’t blame her for it.
What she needed to do was gradually erase that triggered carefulness, bit by bit.
“From now on, whether in a deserted alley or a bustling square, you can link arms with me without hesitation.”
In Lou Yixuan’s view, Lin Huayan’s eyes shone like the first ray of morning sun piercing thick clouds—warm and resolute.
She leaned forward, gazing up in reverence like worshiping faith: “Teacher Lin, kiss me quick.”
Lin Huayan said nothing. Her hand slid from cheek to chin, and with a smile, she leaned in to kiss her.
A light, chaste kiss without desire.
As their lips parted, Lou Yixuan licked hers, still craving more: “I won’t call you mute anymore. Talk more—I love hearing you.”
“Not grabbing your stuff?”
Lin Huayan released her, leaned back into her seat, and buckled her seatbelt. “I need to be at school by five.”
Lou Yixuan checked the time—it was nearly two.
She hurriedly buckled up and drove Lin Huayan back to the apartment.
Entering Lou Yixuan’s rented studio for the second time, Lou Yixuan didn’t make her change shoes: “Grab your things and go—I’m not living here anymore anyway. Step wherever.”
Lin Huayan nodded and stepped inside, pausing before the easel by the floor-to-ceiling window.
The unfinished sketch had now been given facial features—it was indeed her mother, Zhao Qin.
“Last time you were here, did you stare at this painting for a while?”
“Yeah.”
“What were you thinking then?” Lou Yixuan wrapped one arm around Lin Huayan’s waist, twirling her unbound hair with the other. “Wondering who I drew? Kinla?”
“No.” Lin Huayan shook her head. “I was thinking about your mom. Why you hadn’t drawn her features.”
“So, what do you think the reason was?”
“I don’t know.”
“Want to know?”
“Do you want to tell me?”
“Teacher Lin.” Lou Yixuan’s fingers slipped to her collarbone, circling the dip teasingly. “But I want to hear you say—you want to know.”
“Mm, I want to.” Lin Huayan cooperated fully, even capturing the wandering fingers on her collarbone.
Lou Yixuan hooked Lin Huayan’s hand with hers, drawing her closer to the painting: “Because as I was drawing, I suddenly thought of you—and I couldn’t continue. I was afraid I’d end up painting Mom like you. That would’ve been utterly irreverent.”
“Me? I rarely do updos. And I don’t look like your mother.” Though they’d only met a few times, she remembered Zhao Qin’s appearance vividly.
Especially those hawk-sharp eyes and the piercing, judgmental gaze she’d fixed on her.
What she was deeply grateful for: Lou Yixuan’s features were nothing like Zhao Qin’s—far softer.
“It’s the expression. Especially the arch of the brows, the line of the lips.” Lou Yixuan guided Lin Huayan’s fingers to touch those spots. “Mom’s even sharper than you. But deep down, her heart is soft too.”
“Because she loves you so much.” Not every mother’s heart was soft, nor did every mother love all her children.
But any woman who truly cherished a child—whether she’d borne them or not—had a heart glowing with maternal softness.
Like her own mother, Zhou Chunping. Like Lou Yixuan’s mother, Zhao Qin.
“Yeah, she loves me, so she’s soft on me—forgave and accepted my whims and decisions coming back home.” Lou Yixuan hugged her face-to-face. “Teacher Lin, you love me too.”
“Yes, I love you too. Yixuan, will my love make things difficult between you and your parents?”
She didn’t want Lou Yixuan trading “loss” for “gain,” didn’t want her paying with her parents’ love for hers.
“Silly Lin Huayan, if it were difficult, I wouldn’t have come back to you last year.” Lou Yixuan tiptoed to meet her gaze levelly. “You think they’ll try to stop us?”
“……Will they?”
“They would’ve before. Not now.”
With that, Lou Yixuan saw Lin Huayan’s eyes fill with surprise and hope—a light she’d never seen in them before.
She held back some details that might sour the mood for now, planting a dragonfly kiss on Lin Huayan’s lips.
“We’ll stop here for today—the rest slowly. Anyway, don’t worry about my family. They love me; they won’t disown me just for us being together.”
“Okay.” Lin Huayan returned a quick kiss. “We’ll talk more later—we have all the time in the world.”
“Come on, upstairs—I’ve got something for you.”
Lou Yixuan led Lin Huayan to the second floor, sat on the bed’s edge, and pulled a jewelry box from the nightstand drawer. Inside lay two rings.
One was the one she sometimes wore on her middle finger; the other, she slipped straight onto Lin Huayan’s middle finger.
Without even asking if she wanted it.
“I’ve got someone I like. I came back for my girlfriend—this is proof.” Lou Yixuan slipped on hers too, then interlaced their fingers. “Teacher Lin, congrats—you have a girlfriend now. Congratulate me too.”
The silver-white band fit perfectly at the base of her finger. The metal’s chill quickly warmed in their palms, along with Lou Yixuan’s watermelon-scented breath rippling straight into Lin Huayan’s heart.
Lou Yixuan rested her chin in Lin Huayan’s shoulder hollow, gently shaking their clasped left hands, her nose brushing her cheek with a fine itch: “Teacher Lin, aren’t you going to say it?”
She deliberately softened every word, watching the famously cold-hearted Director Lin—eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings in nervous shyness, throat bobbing.
“……Congratulations.”
“Congrats to who? On what?” Lou Yixuan pressed relentlessly for the full phrase. “Lin Huayan, say it properly, or I’ll get mad.”
Lin Huayan suddenly turned her head, kissing her left ear: “Congratulations, Teacher Lou—you have a girl…”
The final “friend” dissolved into Lou Yixuan’s oncoming lips.
“My girlfriend,” she murmured, pressing Lin Huayan back onto the bed, tumbling into the soft covers together, stroking her face. “You still haven’t answered about the Lego castle.”
“……What?”
“I asked about that Disney Castle in the display case. When did you buy it? How long did it take to build?”
“October the year you graduated. But I didn’t assemble it until much later.”
“How much later?”
“After the house was furnished—only then did I have space. Took about a winter break.”
“A month? Didn’t that hurt your eyes?”
“……It was fine.”
Lou Yixuan kissed her eyelids, feeling the faint tremble beneath: “So, can this dream of my youth last forever, never waking?”
“Yes.”
Delighted, Lou Yixuan kissed elsewhere: “Teacher Lin, your mouth is so sweet.”
The mouth she’d called sweet parted and closed under her kisses, breaths unsteady as it whispered sweeter words: “Because I want you to know—these years you’ve loved me, protected me, waited for me… they were worth it.”
“Lin Huayan, no one deserves it more than you.”
……
It took Lou Yixuan over half an hour to pack—nearly all her daily essentials and clothes stuffed into luggage.
The stuffed trunk and back seat made Lin Huayan realize some of her worries were unnecessary.
“I don’t know how it piled up like this. But I didn’t splurge—most of it, like a lot, was bought by godmother and them. Can’t toss it.”
Her “that” and “a lot” were mostly exorbitantly priced bedding and skincare; clothes and shoes weren’t few either.
“Not telling you to toss it. Plenty of space at home.”
Good thing she’d listened to Qin Fengru back then and bought a spacious large unit—nearly 120 square meters inside. Perfect for two.
They stood outside the car. Lou Yixuan closed the trunk, then the back door.
Grinning, she took Lin Huayan’s hand and blew on the red marks from the weight: “My girlfriend, thanks for the hard work. What would I do without you?”
Lin Huayan pulled her hand back, shooting her a glare: “Glib tongue.”
With that, she climbed into the passenger seat.
Lou Yixuan chuckled inwardly, slid in after, and pulled wet wipes from her bag for Lin Huayan: “Clean your hands.”
The platinum ring she’d slipped on still gleamed on Lin Huayan’s finger. After wiping, she lifted that hand and kissed it.
“You don’t have to wear it to work. I’m not the unreasonable type demanding you flaunt my ring to declare you’re taken. Wear it when you want, not when you don’t. The ring’s just a symbol of love—your person and heart are mine; the symbol’s icing. Same for me.”
“Okay.” Lin Huayan was touched by her understanding, and honest in return: “Exams are coming up. For our relationship, I want to go public within appropriate circles next semester.”
“No problem—follow your plan. I won’t be a wildcard. Just know you’re all I care about. Tianmu Middle School is your turf; protect yourself first, then you can protect me.”
Lin Huayan’s heart warmed, like spring breeze and rain nourishing everywhere with vibrant life.
As if reborn under the world’s anticipation.
Sprouting anew.
She hooked Lou Yixuan’s hand back and kissed her finger: “How do I have such a wonderful… girlfriend.”
Time seemed to halt or race without meaning—only the person before her frozen yet vividly alive.
Every second was her.
……
Finally able to spend every dawn and dusk with her beloved, Lou Yixuan only wanted to see Lin Huayan every day and night. She put the search for those “traces of passion” from the past week on hold for now.
On Thursday noon, she cooked two dishes at home by herself and brought them to school in an insulated lunchbox.
She arrived just before the end of classes and had Du Heming take her up to the 11th floor.
“I thought you were asking me to lunch, but it turns out you just wanted me to play doorman.”
In the elevator, Du Heming eyed the insulated lunchbox in her hand. “Speaking of which, don’t you have a keycard? You didn’t call me specifically just to watch you deliver food and flaunt your relationship, did you?”
When Lou Yixuan had called, Du Heming had been eating alone in the cafeteria. After the call, she shoveled down a few bites and ended her meal.
She hadn’t had much appetite anyway.
Eating was just to stay alive.
“Teacher Du, don’t make stuff up. Didn’t we agree it was for dinner? That card you mentioned—I canceled it at the start of the semester.”
Lou Yixuan couldn’t understand why she felt so guilty.
Her voice grew smaller and smaller.
“…” Du Heming paused for a moment, then burst out cackling with a demonic laugh that sounded just like Donald Duck. “I knew it! Teacher Lin looked so miserable back then. You two were tormenting each other—one abusing, one being abused. Done with that now? Still at it?”
“Don’t just tease me and laugh at my expense. You’re so at peace with yourself, so things must be going really well with Teacher He, right?”
“Uh.”
Du Heming tactically rubbed her nose.
Last Saturday, she had waited very late for He Huan to return to campus. After taking He Huan’s call, she went upstairs to find her.
That same night, in He Huan’s dorm, she saw the painting Lou Yixuan had given her.
Two swans nestled neck-to-neck in a lake under the moonlight—one black, one white.
And both female.
He Huan had opened up to her about her past with Ming You, including the parts she still hadn’t let go of, laying it all out honestly.
—Du Heming, I don’t know how to let go of the regrets and obsessions from back then, or how to forget, how to move on. If you mind, if you’re tired of it, then let’s stop.
He Huan had put the choice to stop or continue in her hands. That showed reluctance, showed she wanted to go on.
So how could she mind?
She had endured hardships to reach the dock and board He Huan’s ship. There was no way she’d abandon He Huan to weep alone on that battered little boat.
She was afraid that if she got off, the ship would sink.
Everyone had their emotional purity quirks. But in love, purity meant not questioning the past—only talking about the future.
So she told He Huan—He Huan, when you ran off that car to hug me, when you opened up and told me about her, you were already trying to let go.
—I know that’s hard, because you’ve been living in regret, living in imaginings of how happy they are, living in self-punishment where you think you don’t deserve love anymore. You’ve completely lost yourself in the past.
—You told me not to belittle myself. Today, I’m saying the same to you. He Huan, don’t belittle yourself. You’re wonderful, and you deserve to be loved.
—To put it bluntly, if you were willing, all the top-tier women lining up to date you would form a dragon-long queue. In terms of qualifications, I’d probably be the least impressive one.
—Maybe it’s because my bitter little melon life was too bitter that heaven arranged for you, the divine healer He, to meet me. Really, I’m dying of bitterness here—hurry and sprinkle some sugar on me to make me sweet. I know you’re the best, save me, He Huan.
He Huan had saved her, sprinkled sugar on her with lips and tongue, and let her stay the night—just stay the night.
But from that whole night until she walked out of He Huan’s dorm the next day, He Huan never clearly stated what kind of relationship they would have going forward.
He Huan hadn’t figured it out yet.
She knew.
Seeing Du Heming hesitate as if she wanted to say something but held back, Lou Yixuan asked again, “Not going well?”
“It’s not not going well. Just a tiny bit behind you and Teacher Lin.”
“A tiny bit?”
A sudden surge of competitive spirit pricked Du Heming.
She glared at Lou Yixuan. “What’s with that tone? No way, Lou Lou—you and Lin, you two, you didn’t get back together less than a week ago and already snag a marriage certificate, did you??!”
