Chapter 99

Lin Huayan hadn’t drunk much, yet her eyelids felt unbearably heavy, refusing to stay open—though her mind remained crystal clear, especially her awareness of every sensation rippling through her body.

The sensation of Lou Yixuan’s touch.

Amid an indescribable wet sound, Lou Yixuan’s tongue leisurely explored her mouth, leaving their lips slick and glistening with strands of saliva.

Peaceful. Serene.

Everything around them seemed blocked out; the entire world narrowed to just her and Lou Yixuan.

Lin Huayan’s throat grew parched from the kiss—Lou Yixuan had sucked away every drop of the wine-scented liquid from her mouth.

She tried to reclaim some, but Lou Yixuan sensed her intent. Her tongue tip hooked upward, evading, then slipped out swiftly.

Her chin was pinched and lifted. Lin Huayan’s breathing grew unsteady as she gazed at Lou Yixuan through misty eyes, blinking laboriously. Lou Yixuan’s features sharpened from blur to clarity.

The straight bridge of her nose, her pale red thin lips—so beautifully shaped.

Her girlfriend, her little kitten—how could she be so stunningly beautiful?

“Yixuan, I think… I’m really drunk.”

Or maybe not.

She wouldn’t tell Lou Yixuan that in her thirty-eight years, she’d drunk countless times but only gotten truly drunk twice.

The first time, Lou Yixuan had picked her up and brought her home.

The second time, Lou Yixuan had done the same.

The difference? The first was pure accident. The second was deliberate.

A flush of drunken softness and vibrancy colored Lin Huayan’s face, her usual aloof detachment gone, replaced by an alluring charm—seductive yet pure, neither gaudy nor vulgar.

Lou Yixuan couldn’t tear her eyes away, her heart itching unbearably.

She leaned down, aiming for those red lips, her tongue darting in clever licks and probes without rushing deeper.

“Teacher Lin, why weren’t you surprised when I said Ya Ning-jie and Ling Xuan are legally partners?” Her left hand hooked around Lin Huayan’s shoulder, her right teasing and fiddling. “Tell me, why?”

Suddenly pinched, her lower lip nipped by her little kitten’s teeth, Lin Huayan let out a muffled hum. Her shoulders hunched forward, arms drawing in tight.

Crimson clouds lingered on her cheeks, spreading across her face, making her even more delicately captivating. Heat waves crashed between them, evaporating the pent-up alcohol warmth in Lin Huayan’s body even faster.

“I… I already knew.”

She knew Xu Yaning was Lu Lingxuan’s wife, that they were deeply in love, and that Lou Yixuan’s “happy harvest” referred to their union being accepted by their loved ones.

If their families could accept them, they could accept Lou Yixuan and her too.

—You’re afraid they’ll stop us from being together?

—Would they?

—They would have before. Not anymore.

Really not anymore?

Lady Zhao, who had once used surveillance footage to threaten her future and career, demanding she leave and never contact Lou Yixuan again—could she truly accept her daughter being gay after all these years? Truly accept her daughter with a woman over a decade older? Truly accept her?

If their relationship were as easy as Lou Yixuan claimed, why did Lou Yixuan always dodge talks of her parents?

She knew Lou Yixuan still hid unspeakable troubles, still bore parental pressures alone. She knew Lou Yixuan said and did these things to reassure her.

Lou Yixuan’s love never stopped. Her efforts never ceased. Time and distance couldn’t separate them. External pressures couldn’t either.

So this time, she wouldn’t let go, no matter what.

Even if storms loomed, even if mountains crumbled, she’d advance and retreat with Lou Yixuan.

She’d make Lou Yixuan feel secure too.

Lin Huayan’s lips parted and closed, the blood-flushed petals quivering as she spoke—exquisitely beautiful, irresistibly tempting.

Lou Yixuan paused in surprise, then licked and kissed her, her voice hot and damp: “Specifically? How long ago?”

Saliva threads trickled between their lips. Lin Huayan gasped involuntarily, admitting, “When you were hospitalized, I went to see you. I meant to go back and ask Boss Xu for a business card or contact, but I overheard your conversation with her by accident.”

That time, she’d feared Lou Yixuan might vanish back to Australia without a word, leaving her to hear scraps of news only through Xu Yaning.

But the hospital room door had been ajar, filled with Lou Yixuan’s sobs.

For those ten-plus minutes, she’d eavesdropped as a third party, witnessing Lou Yixuan’s unwavering devotion to her. It convinced her that even if Lou Yixuan returned to Australia, even if they parted for years again, Lou Yixuan could never love another, never find happiness elsewhere.

She’d only ever love her. Lou Yixuan had said so at the hot spring hotel.

It wasn’t disbelief in Lou Yixuan’s solemn vows—it was unwillingness. Unwillingness for Lou Yixuan to pin her heart on her forever.

Lou Yixuan’s talk with Xu Yaning shattered her ostrich mentality of unwillingness, letting her face Lou Yixuan’s sincere heart head-on. It was never just words.

If Xu Yaning and Lu Lingxuan could find their happy ending, why couldn’t she and Lou Yixuan?

She didn’t want Lou Yixuan crying over her anymore.

Didn’t want her guarding an unblooming flower in lifelong regret.

She wanted the right to embrace Lou Yixuan in her tears, to inspect her wounds when hurt, to hold her hand with her loved ones present.

She wanted to see Lou Yixuan smile and act spoiled for her again, hear her say—Lin Huayan, kiss me.

She wanted too much.

All the truths and half-truths about Lou Yixuan—she wanted them all.

That’s what truly steeled her resolve to keep Lou Yixuan, to go forward together.

“Yixuan…”

Lin Huayan’s body went soft, beyond her control, but her thoughts and words held firm. “You’re not cheap at all. You’re the most beautiful elf, the most precious flower—so precious, so precious.”

She still remembered the heart-wrenching pain when Lou Yixuan had sobbed, “But sometimes I feel so cheap.”

Her elf was a priceless treasure, one-of-a-kind. How could she be cheap?

“Your love makes me so happy. It hasn’t crushed me.”

“On the contrary, it gives me strength—to bravely face my feelings and desires, to yearn for happiness, to want to live, to live long and healthy.”

After her kidney transplant, she’d held little hope for longevity. Living alone so long—what was the point?

As long as she didn’t outlive her parents, this life was enough.

But now, she wanted longevity, the longest life possible, to be with Lou Yixuan as long as she could.

“Am I very greedy?”

She nipped Lou Yixuan’s upper lip in return, sucking lightly, tasting a hint of salty tears.

“Little crybaby, why are you crying again?” Lin Huayan swept away the tears from her lips, gently coaxing the girlfriend she’d made cry. “Don’t you like hearing these words? Aren’t you happy?”

“Very happy. I love it.”

Lou Yixuan withdrew her right hand from the shirt, cupping Lin Huayan’s face with both. “Teacher Lin, I’m the same—very greedy.”

Amid the lush scent of spring cherry blossoms, she plucked a petal, her fingertip brushing Lin Huayan’s eyes, turning blazing desire and longing into tenderness, imprinting it in her gaze.

Lin Huayan’s eyes covered, the warm slickness on her lips amplified endlessly, stirring boundless fantasies.

A life once detached as drifting clouds ended as Zhuangzi dreaming of the butterfly—now with landscapes of longing and a soulmate who haunted her dreams.

Past moments settled into daily sunrises and sunsets. They drowned in intoxication and awoke, guarding their peaceful nook, living full lives together, names etched side by side.

The satin-white shirt barely clung to her elbows, unable to hide the flush from within. Lou Yixuan embodied her greed, her love—spring’s peach blossoms or cherries, she’d pluck them one by one.

Lou Yixuan’s back pressed against the desk for support; even without Lin Huayan holding her, she wouldn’t fall.

She leaned into the softness. The earbuds in her ears were gently removed and set on the desk. Then, her right ear and the scar behind it were traversed repeatedly by electric tingles.

Lin Huayan was easing her pain.

Yet she was making Lin Huayan “ache” for her.

But lately, she’d concluded: Lin Huayan liked this pain, savored it.

Practice proved true. She gasped around it: “Teacher Lin.”

“Hm?”

Lin Huayan’s left hand pinched her earlobe, right stroked her hair—breath ragged, heartbeat chaotic.

Lou Yixuan tilted her head back slightly, brazen and erotic, rubbing her chin: “When you first saw Ya Ning-jie getting close to me, were you a little jealous?”

First sight…

Teachers’ Day last year.

Lou Yixuan had rejected her hair tie, misunderstood her care, then turned to hug and hold Xu Yaning.

“Yes. More than a little.” Her jealousy of Xu Yaning outstripped even Du Heming’s.

Though before today, she’d only met Xu Yaning three times.

After seeing Xu Yaning the second time at the Small Tavern, riding in Lou Yixuan’s passenger seat, she hadn’t thought Lou Yixuan’s fixation on “older women” was twisted or gross. She’d thought: If Lou Yixuan would ultimately love a woman far older and more experienced, if her parents could only compromise on her choice, why couldn’t that woman be her?

Times had changed. Women’s love could enter marriage halls, weddings could fill with guests, marriage stamps no longer a heterosexual privilege.

She loved this world without gender bounds on love, this world with Lou Yixuan by her side—more and more.

“So you were jealous that time in the hospital too? More than a little, right?”

“Yes.”

Lin Huayan was honest. Dishonesty meant punishment.

The room’s temperature held steady, but their body heat soared. Sweaty skin and sticky bodies made Lin Huayan uncomfortable, yet she couldn’t bear to stop.

Lou Yixuan’s head shifted up, kissing along her jawbone, adjusting her seat to let her hand slide lower: “What about Kinla?”

Her gaze locked on Lin Huayan’s pearl-powder earlobe, watching it redden with interest.

After a pause, she stirred tonight’s fresh Peach Blossom Brew, its thick texture swirling: “Teacher Lin, did you eat Kinla’s vinegar too?”

“…Mm.”

“So my Teacher Lin is a real jealous one.”

Her little crybaby and Lin Huayan the jealous one—who could say they didn’t match?

Peach Blossom Brew mixed with vinegar—what would it taste like? Lou Yixuan was dying to try: “Then why, after so long, haven’t you asked about Kinla? Afraid there’s something between us?”

“No.” Lin Huayan hugged Lou Yixuan’s waist tighter, arching her neck back. “No… I was waiting for you to tell me yourself.”

An artist who made her living painting would have calluses on her fingers. Thick or thin varied.

Lou Yixuan had painted little last year, her fingers softening.

But this year, especially the last three months, she’d created almost daily.

The callus on her right fingers was evident.

Thin, yet amplifying friction—grinding, rotating on paper, like her painting: each stroke measured, deeply considered.

What color here, where that line fell—upstroke or down, angle, pressure—all precise.

And today was her first right-handed piece this week: “What if I never said?”

“…Would you? Would you never say?”

“No.”

She just liked—habitually—taking it slow with Lin Huayan, in words and deeds.

Her fingertip invaded; her lips yielded, pecking her chin submissively: “Sorry, I admit—I had bad intentions in the meeting room. I acted extra close with Kinla on purpose, just to see if you’d get jealous.”

“…”

Lin Huayan felt like a wayward fish, toyed with in the water by Lou Yixuan—forward or back, leap or dive, all at her whim.

Truth be told, she wanted to take the helm too, but every time Lou Yixuan embraced her and kissed her with those soft, coaxing words, her resolve melted away completely. On top of that, Lou Yixuan was a master at seizing the high ground and claiming the initiative, then plundering her utterly with expert finesse.

What could a body that had been thoroughly emptied do but lie there, eager yet spent?

She could only blame herself for getting on in years, her stamina no match for her little kitten’s boundless energy.

Lin Huayan tensed her body as a tingling, electric sensation spread through every vein and meridian, prickling inside and out.

Lou Yixuan suckled at her lips before finally pulling away, allowing her to breathe freely at last, gasping deeply—but then she shuddered involuntarily at the wet kiss brushing her ear.

Those lips burned like tiny flames licking along Lin Huayan’s neck, fanning fires everywhere they went, with the unstoppable momentum of a prairie blaze.

“Mm, Yixuan… Yixuan…”

Lin Huayan twisted her waist twice, trying to evade the hand Lou Yixuan pressed firmly against her.

Lou Yixuan mischievously slid her index finger over it, rubbing up and down. “That ring you saw in the Art Office that night? I borrowed it from Kinla on purpose and wore it on my index finger. But I gave it back to her the next day when we met in Jingping.”

“Teacher Lin, aren’t I just awful… so over the top?”

Awful?

Over the top?

Lin Huayan finally caught her breath. Her right hand slid from Lou Yixuan’s waist around to the front, grasping her wrist to pin it in place and prevent any more mischief.

Her left hand softly cupped Lou Yixuan’s jaw, her slender middle finger teasing the shell of her right ear as she demanded coolly, “So, what exactly is your relationship?”

The sly little kitten who had successfully stolen her cream narrowed her eyes with a smile and explained, “She’s the younger sister of my mentor’s close friend—practically my cousin. Back in university, to gain financial independence sooner, I hustled for part-time gigs everywhere. As the director of the Bona Art Museum, she had tons of connections and resources in the art world, so my mentor introduced me to her.”

“I worked at the museum as a volunteer and a docent. Once we got close, thanks to her appreciation, her guidance, and all her introductions, I rose as a young artist in Australia, building my reputation and savings bit by bit.”

“That year at 22, Bona signed me to a five-year agency contract and printed business cards for me—up until I’m 27, so just five months left.”

“During that Spring Festival trip back to Australia, Kinla brought up renewing the contract. I told her I’d think about it. But I promised her that no matter if I end up developing here in the country or returning to Australia, Bona will have exclusive sales rights for my works there. That phone call you overheard at the hospital? It was about the Color Traces Series pieces I shipped over.”

Kinla had even urged her on the call to hurry back to Australia, saying she’d personally pick her up the day she returned.

She felt profound gratitude and admiration toward Kinla.

Without Kinla’s staunch support in her career, she never could have become a painter and artist so young and so quickly, nor earned enough to stand on her own two feet.

“The art world is even murkier than entertainment. Kinla warned me that a naive young woman like me is prime bait for tycoons, who might treat me like a marked-up wager or commodity. With real cases out there, I had to believe it—and guard against it.”

“To protect me, she’d been taking me to banquets, cocktail parties, and auctions early on, just to let the elite crowd know she had my back. They’d respect her if not me, so they wouldn’t dare try anything shady. As for what our actual relationship was? In the face of money, fame, and favors, it didn’t amount to much.”

“Letting people assume Kinla was my financial backer and willingly showing face with her at events—it was all to establish myself, make money, survive. I have ambition and pride, but I’m not above it all, and I didn’t have the luxury of being arrogant from talent.”

Her parents could have supported her just fine, but she didn’t want to be a caged bird under their wings. She had her own path to forge, her own dreams to chase.

She nuzzled into Lin Huayan’s palm. “Do you think I’m vulgar, too money-grubbing?”

Lin Huayan released her wrist and shook her head.

She cradled Lou Yixuan’s face in both hands, gazing at her with utmost tenderness. “I’m just as hopelessly worldly myself. I wished a thousand good things for you in my heart, yet grew cowardly when you became too good, nearly missing out on you all over again.”

“Money comes easy; true love is rare.” Lou Yixuan didn’t ask what she was cowardly about. She leaned in to claim her lips and tongue instead.

At the same time, she withdrew her hand and, with a roguish flair, surged forward over hill and dale to claim the top spot, stealing her fragrance once more. “Teacher Lin, you’ve made me beg so hard. Shouldn’t you reward me a little?”

“…” Lin Huayan closed her eyes without answering. Hadn’t she just rewarded her?

“Tonight,” Lou Yixuan pressed on insatiably, pinching harder, kissing deeper, then resting her forehead against hers when their lips parted, “I want to shower with you. Okay?”